#only watching season 19 now

[achelewasmyobsession]

Grey's Anatomy season 19 is very heavily about Abortion Rights and the difficulty that the turn of Roe v Wade created. There have been a lot of storylines around this topic. You'd think that would mean Carina would get a lot of screentime giving she is the main OBGYN doctor in the show but no. They brought back Addison for a few episodes so she can have the emotional moments about the frustrations of fighting the system. I love Kate Walsh but why snub Stefania when she has been there underutilized for years. We know she can do a dramatic performance we saw it when her brother died but no let's have her have barely 30 minutes of screentime in a season about her medical field.

[kira-light0]

Honk(mimimi)eye

[beansschool]

Yes! Buck's sexuality is so much more than a means to an end, and I'm so genuinely excited to see where they take it from here, Buddie or no Buddie. Especially when Tim, Oliver and ABC all seem genuinely excited to tell this story in a refreshing way and giving us new, positive representation.

No im not “grieving” Buddie, do you know how amazing it is to have queer/bisexual men representation in today’s media? Do you know how important it is for all of the community and the younger people watching this? This is a huge milestone and Buck’s sexuality is valid outside of any type of ship. Today we celebrate.

[smilesstardust]

The desperate urge when you finish binging a show to go back and watch it again because you still have residual brain rot that won’t go away any other way

[jezebelblues]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 | 𝐇.𝐒 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐧’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐬. [nov’18–may’19]

requested!! thank u anon, i hope u enjoy :)

𝐂𝐖: unexpected pregnancy, labor + labor pains, fem!reader. i think that’s it!!

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: approx 12.3k

❏ hope yall don’t mind that i included louis in this. i miss him fr. also, thank u again anon <3 hope this wasn’t too long

not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.

Life had slowed, but only just—somehow still breezy with that undercurrent of momentum that carried him from One Direction fevered heights, to the steady rhythm of his own solo journey. Fame was no stranger, but this? These moments were the ones he cherished most. He glanced at his wife, her eyes twinkling as she sat with their son. The simple joy of this evening reminded him of how far they had come. The quiet, intimate wedding in Holmes Chapel five years ago, the shockwaves it sent through the internet because they had managed to keep it so private, and then, only a year later, the unexpected news that YN was pregnant with Atlas.

He could still remember the exact moment he found out about their little surprise, how the world had seemed to tilt on its axis when she told him. It had been unplanned, a complete shock, but one that had filled him with a profound sense of love and responsibility.

Five years ago felt like a lifetime ago, yet it also felt like yesterday.

Five Years Earlier – November first, Holmes Chapel

The cold was sharp outside, but the small cottage Harry and YN had rented for the holiday season felt warm, cozy even. A fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and YN sat curled up on the couch, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Outside, a gentle snow, the first of the season, had started to fall, covering the village in a blanket of white.

Harry had been out all day, helping his mother with some last-minute holiday preparations. The quiet of the house felt calming to YN, but there was something on her mind, something that had been gnawing at her for the past month. Her period was late—later than it had ever been.

She had noticed other small things too. A slight queasiness in the mornings that she initially brushed off as stress from the hectic, upcoming holiday season. But now, as she sat there, the weight of realization started to sink in. She might be pregnant.

Her heart pounded as she thought about it. They hadn’t planned for this. They had only been married for about a year, and though they had talked about children, it had always been a vague, distant future sort of conversation. But now, the possibility was staring her in the face, and she wasn’t sure how Harry would react.

Would he be excited? Nervous? Overwhelmed?

She glanced at her phone, considering whether to text him and ask him to pick up a pregnancy test on his way home. No, that felt too impersonal.

She had paced the empty hallways of the cottage, occasionally texting her husband back or scrolling through instagram. She knew Harry like the back of her hand, he wouldn’t be upset—perhaps a bit overwhelmed, but upset? No, from the years they’ve known each other, he loved children. She couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of dance sessions, hide and go seeks, and cartoon watching she’d walk in on when he was with the children of his family or friends. And from the discussions they’ve shared of their own future children, she knew he’d be ecstatic—she just didn’t think it’d be so soon.

A few hours later, the front door creaked open, and Harry’s voice echoed through the small cottage. “Lovey, y’here? S’cold as hell out there.”

She stood, wrapping Harry’s sweater tighter around her frame, trying to keep her nerves in check as she walked towards him. He looked so carefree, a light dusting of snow in his hair, his cheeks rosy from the cold, a grin already stretching across his face when he saw her.

“Got y’favorite mince pies from the bakery,” he announced, holding up a small paper bag as he walked towards her. “Mum says we need to fatten you up f’the winter.”

YN laughed softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, but she didn’t know how to say them. Instead, she took the bag from him and set it on the counter.

He began to shuffle around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a few glasses. He absentmindedly hummed a tune his wife didn’t quite recognize as he floated toward the freezer, pulling out a frosted glass bottle of rum with a smile. “Mum said she would’ve made it herself but–” He laughed, shaking his head as he set the bottle down on the counter with a heavy clank. “She’s decorating the house. Looks like autumn threw up in there.”

YN only responded in a gentle chuckle, one that made him look up with his eyebrows furrowed. Harry frowned, immediately noticing the shift in her demeanor. He paused, his eyes scanning her face with concern. “Everything alright, sweet girl?”

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. Her eyes burrowed into his, shifting gaze from one eye to the other. Her lips parted, unsure of how to form the words that sat heavily in her throat. She exhaled, managing a smile as she shook her head. “Just a bit tired, thats all.”

She couldn’t tell him until she was sure. If he were to be overjoyed, she didn’t want to get his hopes up on the off-chance she wasn’t pregnant.

Harry paused for a moment, not fully convinced, but he didn’t want to push. If something was wrong, she’d tell him when she felt ready. So, he only smiled back as he unscrewed the rum and poured into the square glasses. He looked at her expectantly as he raised his eyebrows, bringing her a glass.

She stared at it as if it would jump out at her, her reflection waning in the amber liquid. She pulled her lips between her teeth, shaking her head as her cheeks flushed. “Not feeling it tonight.”

At that point, Harry knew something was wrong. He furrowed his eyebrows, setting her—well, what was supposed to be hers—drink on the counter before he took a sip of his. “You sure y’alright?”

She brushed it off with a laugh, stepping toward him as he remained leaning against the counter. YN pressed a gentle kiss on his rum-slicked lips, cold to the touch. “You worry too much.”

He wrapped his arm around her head, pulling her into his chest with a sigh. “Rightfully so, m’love. Stubborn as a mule, you are.”

She scoffed, though only humor was laced in her tone. She pushed back from him, folding her arms over her chest with a feigned frown.

“What?” He smiled, taking another sip. “Should be titled an archeologist the way I dig for your heart.”

“Oh shut it, Styles. You’ve done no such thing.”

He laughed, placing his glass on the counter behind him and gently holding onto the edges. “You’re only proving my point, lovey.”

She rolled her eyes, flicking his chest before she began to step off toward the bedroom. YN looked over her shoulder expectantly with a sly smile. “You’re not gonna join me?”

She didn’t need to ask him twice.

He tugged his shirt off, tossing it aside as his wife’s laughter echoed down the hallway. She darted toward their bedroom, her giggles trailing behind her like music. Grabbing his glass from the counter and kicking off his shoes, he chased after her, a wide, mischievous grin lighting up his face.

There was a gloomy, gray sky the next morning, the kind where the clouds stretched thick across the sky, holding back any hint of sun. YN had woken up before dawn with a gnawing queasiness—a feeling that had been creeping up more often lately. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to calm the discomfort.

She reached into the plastic bag, pulling out the small pregnancy test she ordered from doordash before the sun rose. She had tipped the dasher generously before staring at it in the restroom for what felt like hours. Her mind buzzed, unsteady with thoughts she couldn’t quite wrangle. The idea of being pregnant had only crossed her mind like a shooting star. She was nervous. They were still basking in the simplicity of their life, the unexpected quiet of their year-old marriage. This hadn’t been in the plan.

But here she was, two minutes ticking by like hours as she stared at the test resting on the edge of the sink.

And then, there it was.

Two blue lines.

Her heart raced, a mix of emotions she could barely process flooded her chest. She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel—excitement, worry, fear? It was all tangled together in a knot she didn’t have the strength to untangle. She felt a hint of guilt wash over her; how could she feel uncertain about something so beautiful? But it was real, and she knew it. This was so real.

She sank to the edge of the clawfoot tub in the small bathroom, hugging her arms around herself. She let herself sit there for a while, just breathing in and out, letting the realization wash over her like waves on a shore, eroding her hesitation bit by bit. Eventually, she felt a warmth begin to spread, a tentative but growing love, a sense that maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be.

Oh, god—but Harry.

Mere discussions about a hazy future never felt so prophetic.

Footsteps on the old wooden floor outside the bathroom brought her back to reality. Harry’s voice called from the kitchen, warm and sleepy, a mug clinking on the counter. “Love, you up?”

Her stomach twisted again, this time more with nerves than nausea. She took a deep breath, tucking the test in her hand and opening the door. As she stepped out, she found her husband leaning against the counter, his hair tousled from sleep, a soft smile on his face as he sipped from his mug.

“Couldn’t fall back asleep,” she murmured, her voice just above a whisper.

Harry raised an eyebrow, setting down his mug as he studied her face, his expression shifting to one of gentle concern. ”You’ve been off since yesterday, please, just tell me what’s wrong?”

YN took a breath, feeling the weight of the words she was about to speak. She crossed the small space between them, the floorboards creaking softly under her bare feet. Her hands trembled as she reached for his, and he immediately stilled, sensing her unease.

“Don’t freak out, okay?“ She said, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

Harry’s gaze softened, his fingers curling around hers. “Alright,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “Swear it.”

She swallowed, her eyes dropping to where their hands joined, and finally, she managed to say it. “I’m–” she sighed, “I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air between them, and she felt his hand go still, his thumb pausing mid-stroke. She dared a glance up at his face, and in his eyes, she saw the shock she’d been expecting. His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

It was the longest silence she’d ever felt.

And then, slowly, a smile began to break across his face, soft at first, hesitant, but growing. His eyes sparkled with something she hadn’t expected—something gentle and pure, and so, so warm. “You’re… serious?”

She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips, a mix of nerves and relief. “Yeah. I know it’s not what we planned, and I—”

Harry pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tightly as if he never wanted to let go. She felt his heartbeat racing against her cheek, felt the slight tremor in his breath as he held her.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes glassy with emotion. “This is… I mean, I wasn’t expecting this, but…” He paused, his voice catching. “But, YN, this—this is everything.”

A smile broke across her face, the warmth in her chest growing, all her fears melting as she looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

Harry laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “I’m sure.” His eyes held hers, full of something she could only describe as love beyond anything she’d known before. “I mean, look at us. We’ve done everything backwards and upside down, haven’t we?” He chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Why not this too?”

They laughed together, and in that moment, all her worries felt so small, so distant. Harry pressed his forehead against hers, his hands holding her gently. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “We’re going to be parents?”

YN nodded, her own laughter mingling with tears she hadn’t realized were there. “I guess we are.”

Harry wrapped her up again, his arms strong and sure around her. “Our little family.” He looked around, a spark of excitement lighting his gaze. “The start of everything, right here.”

They stood there, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet of the small cottage, a peacefulness settling over them. The morning light had started to creep in through the windows, casting a soft glow over them, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly still.

But as the initial excitement settled, the reality of the situation hit her hard. Morning sickness, which was more like all day sickness for YN, kicked in with a vengeance. She wondered what crime she may have committed in a past life to deserve such a karma.

She spent most of her mornings hunched over the toilet, her stomach in knots, while Harry hovered nearby, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words. “It’ll pass, baby.” He would say, though there was a flicker of worry in his eyes every time she retched.

The first trimester was rough. YN felt exhausted all the time, her body aching and her emotions all over the place. There were days when she could barely keep food down, and the nausea was so overwhelming that she couldn’t even stand the smell of Harry’s cologne.

But through it all, he was a constant source of support. He made her ginger tea in the mornings, rubbed her feet when they swelled, and stayed up late with her on the nights when she couldn’t sleep. He even held her hair back during the worst bouts of sickness, never once complaining or losing his patience.

Still, telling their friends and family was daunting. Anne had been thrilled, of course, immediately launching into grandma mode, talking about knitting booties and baby blankets. But YN worried about telling the public. Harry had always been fiercely protective of their privacy, and the idea of sharing something so intimate with the world felt overwhelming.

“I don’t want people to think anything bad of me.” She admitted to him one night as they lay in bed. She had spent the entire day feeling nauseous, and her nerves were frayed.

Harry propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her with a gentle smile. “No one’s going to think like that, baby.. And if they do, then screw ‘em. This is our family. No one else’s.”

His words, simple as they were, helped ease some of the anxiety gnawing at her. They would announce it when they were ready, and in the meantime, they would enjoy these private, intimate moments together.

A few weeks later, when YN was finally starting to feel a little better, they gathered their closest friends and family to tell them the news. Harry’s friend’s were among the first to know. They had gathered at their place in London, a casual get-together that didn’t feel too obvious or formal.

Jeff had been the first to catch on, his brow furrowing as he noticed YN sipping ginger ale instead of her usual glass of wine on occasions like these. “Wait a minute…” he began, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he glanced between them. Oh God, you’re pregnant aren’t you?”

The room fell silent for a moment as Harry and YN exchanged a glance, a grin tugging at Harry’s lips. “Surprise!”

The room erupted into chaos. Mitch nearly fell out of his chair, laughing and shouting congratulations at the same time. Pauli looked like he might cry, and Sarah immediately started teasing Harry about how he’d better get used to sleepless nights.

“You two are gonna be knackered for the next eighteen years,” she quipped, though there was a deep affection in her eyes as she clapped Harry on the back. “But you’ll be great parents. I know it.”

As the weeks continued to pass and YN’s belly began to show, Harry’s excitement seemed to grow right along with it. He took over more and more of the household chores, practically hovering over her with a devotion that was both endearing and—just occasionally—a little over the top. But that was Harry; he never did anything halfway, and preparing to become a dad was no exception.

One evening, after a long day, they lay in bed, YN nestled against Harry’s chest as he rested a hand on her belly. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles over her small bump, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.

“Have y’thought about names?” he asked quietly, voice almost a murmur. There was a trace of wonder in his eyes, as if he were asking the question for the first time.

She smiled, shrugging lightly. The idea of names had been floating around in her mind for a while, but nothing had quite felt right yet. “Mm, I’ve got a few in mind,” she said with a teasing glint in her eye. “Think I’m just gonna call ’em Fetus for now.”

Harry let out a laugh, his face lighting up as he shook his head. “Poor kid,” he said, voice full of warmth. He shifted lower, pressing a soft kiss to her belly. “Fetus Styles,” he whispered against her skin, his lips brushing her gently, sending a spark of laughter through her.

Her smile never faltered, fingers combing through his curls as he settled his head on her bump, gazing up at her through his lashes. He held her gaze for a moment, then suddenly broke into a grin, blowing raspberries onto her belly with glint in his eye.

She laughed, Harry faltering into her growing tummy as his phone began to ting with a mess of texts. He grabbed his phone that lay upon his wife’s thighs, sitting up beside her against the headboard with a wide smile as the phone illuminated his face.

She knit her eyebrows together, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Who has you smiling?”

He unlocked his phone, “Lou. I told him I had to talk to him tonight.”

She laughed as Harry clicked on the contact, pressing the facetime icon as the ringing filled the air. “It’s what..?” She trailed off, flickering her eyes in thought. “Noon in LA? Surprised he’s even up.”

After a beat, the screen flashed to life, and there he was—Louis, bleary-eyed, half-sprawled across his couch, nursing a mug of tea. He squinted at the screen, a smirk forming as he took them both in.

“Bloody ‘ell, look at you two all cozy!” He drawled, taking a sip. “Thought I was interrupting somethin’.” He chuckled, giving them a teasing wink.

Harry rolled his eyes, holding the phone between them. “Shut up. We’re just havin’ a quiet night in.” He glanced over at YN, then back at the screen, his grin a little wider. “‘Nd I needed to talk t’you, yeah?”

Louis’s smirk softened, curiosity lighting up his expression. “Right. What’s this then?”

He took a quick breath, almost unable to keep the smile off his face as he turned the phone back to YN, who gave Louis a warm smile before glancing at Harry. He squeezed her shoulder, then looked back to the screen, letting the words tumble out. “We’re havin’ a baby!”

For a moment, Louis just stared, the mug paused halfway to his lips as he absorbed the words. His mouth broke into a grin, and he let out a laugh. “Oi, you’re pullin’ my leg!” He leaned closer, shaking his head. “Wait, wait, you’re serious, aren’t ya?”

“Dead serious,” YN said, her voice gentle as she leaned in closer to Harry. “We’ve known for a few weeks now, but wanted to tell you ourselves.”

He sat up straighter, rubbing a hand over his face as he took it in, his grin somehow widening. “Jesus, Haz. A dad,” he mused, a playful sparkle in his eye. “I mean, didn’t see this comin’ back when you were too busy worryin’ about a pair of blue suede shoes to think about nappies.”

Harry let out a laugh, playfully nudging YN. “See, I’m just followin’ y’example, mate.”

Louis snorted, giving a mock scowl. “Better be—Freddie’s halfway to graduating high school it feels like. You’ve got some catchin’ up to do.” He settled back into the couch, softening as he looked at them both. “But seriously, this is brilliant, you two. Gonna make one hell of a mum and dad, aren’t ya?”

Harry glanced over at YN, his gaze lingering, soft and full of a quiet pride. “Hope so,” he said, smiling down at her before turning back to Louis. “Just been… sittin’ with it. So many things I wanna teach ’em, y’know?”

“Best get started on that lullaby playlist, then,” Lou teased, though there was warmth in his tone. “Bet you’re already plannin’ that first guitar lesson.”

YN laughed, rubbing a hand over her belly. “It’s just been a whirlwind, honestly. We haven’t even found out the gender yet.”

Louis grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Surprise ’n all? Makes it even better. Though if y’need tips on anythin’, I’ve got all the dad tricks—like what not to say when they’re askin’ questions in front of their mum.”

“Great,” Harry chuckled. “Start a whole book for me, will ya?”

Lou winked, lifting his mug. “Already makin’ notes. First chapter’s on nappies and the art of avoidin’ baby food on your shirt.” Then, his expression softened as he leaned closer. “Nah, for real. Couldn’t be happier for you two. And for that kid, too. Already got the best start with you both.”

Harry swallowed, his hand finding YN’s, giving it a gentle squeeze as he held his friend’s gaze through the screen. “Means a lot, you’ll be his grumpy, old uncle, yeah?”

Louis grinned, nodding with a playful glint in his eye. “Best be—I’ll have ’em singin’ the chorus to No Control by the time I’m done. YN, darling, don’t you worry—I’ll keep him in line.”

YN chuckled, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that, Lou.”

“Damn right you will,” Louis shot back, settling back against his couch, eyes full of pride and a mischievous excitement. “And when I’m back over, s’gonna be you two doin’ the nappies, while I teach that kid how to annoy his dad.”

Harry feigned a groan, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Cheers, mate.” Louis raised his mug, a glimmer of something genuine in his gaze. “Can’t wait. Love you both, yeah?”

Harry grinned, feeling the weight of Louis’s words. “Love you, too, Lou. Cheers.”

And as they hung up, YN nestled closer, both of them feeling the joy of sharing their secret with someone who’d been there for it all.

A few months had passed, and YN was officially eighteen weeks pregnant. The kitchen was quiet, filled with the warm scent of vanilla as Harry carefully set a single white cupcake on the counter. He’d insisted on something private, just the two of them. No big reveal party or confetti—just a simple cupcake with the surprise hidden inside. YN stood beside him, hands resting on her bump, a grin tugging at her lips as she watched him fuss over it.

“You’re really gonna make me cry over a cupcake, aren’t you?” she teased, nudging him lightly.

Harry’s eyes sparkled as he looked over at her, dimples deepening. “Just y’wait.” He handed her the small knife, his fingers brushing hers, and his voice softened. “Ready?”

She nodded, her heartbeat picking up as she sliced through the cupcake. Slowly, she pulled the two halves apart, then stared down at the filling inside.

Bright green.

For a moment, they both froze, staring down in complete confusion. Harry tilted his head, mouth slightly open, brow furrowed as he looked at her, then back at the cupcake. “Uh… m’pretty sure green wasn’t one of the options.”

YN snorted, a laugh bubbling out as she lifted the cupcake up to inspect it. “Maybe they’re tellin’ us we’re having a little Niall?”

Harry’s eyes crinkled as he burst into laughter, clutching his chest. “God help us if there’s a little Irish guitar player in there.”

She grinned, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “You think they’ll come out singin’ ‘Mull of Kintyre’?”

Harry laughed, covering his face with his hand. “First words’ll be potato, just y’watch.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “This is what we get for trustin’ a bloody cupcake.”

She rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag on the counter. “Should’ve gone with the doctor’s letter instead of dessert.” After a moment of rummaging, she triumphantly held up the small, folded envelope, smiling. “Alright, now you ready?”

Harry nodded, moving closer, his hand resting gently over hers as she slowly unfolded the paper. They both took a breath, glancing at each other before reading the bold, printed words inside.

Right underneath a blurry ultrasound picture printed onto the visit summary, there it was written.

Fetal sex: Male

For a heartbeat, they both just stared at the words, the realization washing over them like a warm tide.

“A little boy,” Harry murmured, his voice filled with awe as he shook his head in disbelief. “We’re gonna have a son.”

YN’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him, a wide smile breaking across her face. “A son,” she repeated softly, her hand covering his on her belly. Already, she could see him—a little boy with Harry’s eyes, his laughter, his kindness.

Harry swallowed, his own eyes misty as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, then resting his against hers. “Think we’re ready for him?”

She let out a soft laugh, brushing away a tear. “Not even close,” she whispered, her fingers lacing with his over her belly. “But I think we’ll do just fine.”

It was mid February by this point, a few weeks after celebrating Harry’s twenty-fifth birthday. The air had a sharp chill, and YN readjusted Harry’s oversized hoodie that hung off her growing frame, something that hid her bump well. They were dressed comfy and warm, Harry in a pair of sunnies with his hoodie pulled over his head. She nestled closer into her husband as they walked through the quiet side streets of London. They’d just finished lunch at their favorite café, savoring the rare chance to slip out together unnoticed. She pulled the hoodie over her head as a gust of wind brushed by.

“Wish we had days like this more often,” Harry murmured, his fingers lacing through hers as they made their way back to the car. “Just us, y’know?”

She smiled, leaning into him. “You mean just the two of us and fetus?”

Harry squeaked out a laugh that sounded like the ones from his early days in the x-factor, squeezing her hand. “Right, fetus. Can’t forget our little tagalong now.”

But as they turned onto the next street, something shifted—a distant hum of voices, then a sharp click of a camera. Before they could react, the quiet street filled with flashes, and a group of paparazzi materialized around them, spilling onto the sidewalk.

It wasn’t a swarm, just about five or so that were tipped off about Harry walking about the city in a pair of sunnies, as if that could keep him hidden.

“Harry! Harry! Just one photo!” A bald man shouted, pushing forward. The camera flashes came in rapid succession, blinding in the midday light.

He immediately shifted, drawing YN closer to his side, his hand protectively resting into her waist as he tried to steer her forward. “Alright, mate, that’s close enough,” he called out, his voice tense but calm.

“Harry, are the rumors true?” another voice shouted, barely inches from them, more cameras held up like a barrier.

“Just please let us through, yeah?” Harry’s voice was firmer now, his hand moving to shield YN’s face, pressing her into his chest as the crowd closed in tighter.

A jostle from the side sent her stumbling, and Harry’s arm tightened around her, his jaw clenched. “Hey, enough!” he barked, his voice sharper than she’d ever heard it. He guided her forward, his body acting as a buffer as he tried to clear a path.

“Just one shot, Harry!” a paparazzo persisted, his lens pointed squarely at YN, his hand cupping her cheek as he pressed her face further into his chest, her heart pounding as she held onto Harry.

He shot a glare of his shoulder, jaw clenched as he remained silent, maneuvering his wife past the cameras, his hand never leaving her. He kept his eyes trained ahead as he led her through the last stretch to his car.

Finally reaching the door, he opened it for her, a quick but steady gesture, ushering her in and following right after. The cameras pressed in one last time as he shut the door firmly, finally sealing them off from the swarm outside.

Inside, the car was quiet, insulated from the chaos that still buzzed outside, windows tinted as legally possible. YN let out a shaky breath, her hands in her hoodie pocket as she glanced over at Harry. His face was flushed, a mix of worry and lingering frustration in his eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice gentler now, his hand pulling hers out of the pocket, thumb brushing over her knuckles as he studied her face.

She nodded with a faint smile, trying to steady herself. “Not our first rodeo, H.” She tried to joke. And it was true, it surely wasn’t the first time they’ve been bombarded by paps. YN wasn’t famous prior to meeting Harry, a smart girl as beautiful as she, he simply couldn’t ignore.

She was a friend of Anne’s best friend’s daughter, bumping into each other at a family gathering in 2014, immediately becoming close friends. He offered her a ride home that night, and when she thanked him profusely and offered to give him gas money, he knew then and there he was going to fall in love with this woman.

Fans and paps galore started delving into her life in late 2015, when a grainy picture of them kissing at a bar after a London show exploded on twitter. Since then, she always known about the lack of privacy in Harry’s life. And honestly, she’s still trying to adjust to it.

He exhaled, his fingers tightening around hers. “Hate that they got that close to you. Wish they’d just..” He trailed off, clenching his jaw as he glanced out the window, his gaze hardening when he saw the cameras still lingering in the distance.

She squeezed his hand, her voice soft. “It’s alright, baby. I’m alright.” She could see the tension in his shoulders slowly easing, though he still held her hand as if anchoring himself. “They don’t know, and that’s okay for now. It’s just us, remember?”

Harry nodded as he pulled from the curb, driving down the narrow street toward the red light. He turned back to her, his green eyes softening, and he nodded slowly. “Just us. Right.” His shoulders relaxed a little more, a trace of a smile returning to his face as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead while the light was still red.

But before he could pull away, she let out a small gasp, eyes widening as she felt a firm, insistent little nudge low on her belly. She looked up at him, her own hand moving instinctively to her bump.

Green illuminated over them, a honking echoing from behind as he froze in concern. “What?” He breathed, turning a corner to head to the grocery store in the distance, seeking a temporary refuge in the parking lot. He glanced between YN and the road, heart beating in his ears. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He raised his voice, though it wasn’t out of anger, just an anxiety that threatened to boil over.

She shook her head, her face breaking into a soft smile. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry. He just kicked.”

Harry’s eyes lit up instantly, his frustration melting away as he stared at her, a grin forming slowly. “He did?”

She nodded, pulling his hand to her belly as he parked. “Right here. Just now.”

He held his breath, his palm pressed against her bump, waiting. And there it was again—a tiny but unmistakable kick, nudging firmly against his hand.

Harry’s face broke into a radiant smile, his whole expression softening with awe. “Oi, there’s my little striker,” he mused, his voice thick with affection as he looked down at her belly. “We’ll have you in a Man United kit before you’re out of nappies, won’t we?”

She laughed, his words melting away the last traces of tension from the encounter outside. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Picking his team and all?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with pure excitement. “No chance he’ll be an Arsenal player.. First kicks mean we’ve got a future midfielder on our hands, yeah?” He grinned, “Dads gonna make sure y’got the right colors on you, bub.”

YN couldn’t help but laugh, her heart swelling as she watched the joy take over his face. She reached up, tucking a curl behind his ear, her fingers lingering against his cheek. “He’s already got you wrapped around his tiny little foot.”

Harry chuckled, leaning in to kiss her, his hand still resting against her belly, feeling another small nudge. “S’pose I’ll let him get away with it. Just this once.”

*

March arrived in a blink.

It was early, the kind of early that still belonged to the night, when Harry’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. The world outside was still draped in darkness, the streets silent, as if London itself hadn’t quite woken up. Harry stirred, slowly pulled from the depths of sleep by the vibration of his phone. He squinted in the dim light, his vision blurry, barely able to make out the name on the screen. Jeff.

With a quiet sigh, Harry picked up the phone, pressing it to his ear and trying to shake off the last bits of sleep that clung to him. He glanced over to YN, who lay nestled beside him, her breathing soft and even, lost in a peaceful slumber. Gently, he reached out and brushed his fingers along her cheek, a tired but adoring smile tugging at his lips. She stirred slightly, her head nuzzling into his hand, and he felt a warmth rise in his chest. Moments like this felt sacred, untouched by the outside world.

But then Jeff’s voice broke through the stillness, sharp and apologetic.

“Harry,” Jeff said, his tone low and serious, as if he wished he were calling for any other reason. “Listen, I hate to do this to you, but we’ve got a situation.”

Harry straightened, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. “What is it, mate?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, unwilling to wake YN just yet. He kept his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing gently along her skin, grounding himself as he listened.

“There’s a magazine,” Jeff continued with a hesitant sigh. “They got photos of you and YN leaving the clinic yesterday after the ultrasound. They’re planning to release them tomorrow—noon sharp.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Harry’s jaw tightened after he took a shaky breath, his eyes falling back on YN, still blissfully asleep. They’d planned everything so carefully, wanting to share the news of their son on their own terms. They’d waited for the perfect moment, wanting to protect this piece of their life from the relentless intrusion of the outside world. And now, it was slipping out of their hands.

“Tomorrow?” he murmured, his heart pounding. He felt a surge of anger rising, and he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. Jeff waited in silence on the other end of the line, letting him process the news.

“Yeah,” Jeff said softly. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. Figured you’d want to tell people yourselves, do it in a way that feels right.”

Harry nodded, even though Jeff couldn’t see him, his fingers still resting on YN’s cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her skin. “Thanks, Jeff,” he finally whispered, his voice tight. “I’ll–erm–we’ll figure it out.”

He ended the call and placed the phone back on the table, his shoulders slumping as he tried to process what to do next. He looked down at YN, her face peaceful in the darkness, and he felt a pang of guilt at the thought of waking her. She deserved this moment of rest, free from worry and the weight of the world pressing in on them. But he knew he couldn’t keep this from her. Not when it was about their son.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his hand moving to cradle her cheek as he murmured softly, “Baby, wake up.”

She stirred, her brows knitting together as she blinked up at him, still half-asleep, a faint smile gracing her lips as she registered his face. “H?” she whispered, her voice groggy and warm. “What time is it?”

“Too early,” he murmured, his own voice weighed down by the news he had to deliver. “Sorry t’wake you, but there’s something we need t‘talk about.”

Her eyes focused, a flicker of concern replacing the drowsiness as she sat up a bit, her hand resting on his. “What’s wrong?”

Harry took a deep breath, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “It’s the pictures,” he paused with a sigh, “from yesterday, after our appointment. Paparazzi took photos, and they’re planning to release them by noon tomorrow.”

The weight of his words settled over her, and she let out a quiet sigh, her gaze dropping to the bed. They’d known this was a possibility—their lives were never entirely private—but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. She leaned into his touch, her fingers lacing through his as they both sat there in the stillness of the early morning, grappling with the realization that their hand was being forced.

“What do we do?” she asked softly, looking up at him with a mixture of worry and sadness.

Harry’s hand moved to hold hers, his grip gentle but steady. “We tell everyone ourselves. Today. We’ll release it before they can, on our own terms.” He paused, his voice softening. “It’s not what we planned, but, at least we can still share him with the world our way.”

YN gave him a small nod, her eyes meeting his with a quiet resilience. They both knew they didn’t have any other choice. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they took a moment to steady themselves, finding strength in each other.

“Okay,” she murmured after a beat. “I trust you.”

They spent the next hour in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom, talking about how to share the news. Eventually, Harry decided on something simple, something that would feel personal without giving too much away. He reached for his phone and opened the photo gallery, scrolling until he found the ultrasound image from their last appointment. It was a grainy black-and-white shot, but to him, it was beautiful—a glimpse of their son, small and precious, already loved beyond measure.

He glanced at YN, who gave him a reassuring nod, and then he took a deep breath, opening Instagram. With his fingers hovering over the screen, he crafted the caption, choosing each word carefully, his heart pounding in his chest.

I’ve been waiting to share this part of our journey with you all for a while now. YN and I are expecting a son, and we couldn’t be happier to welcome him into the world soon. Thank you for your love and support—can’t wait for you to meet him.

Love, H

He read it over, then looked at YN, who leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She gave him a small smile, her fingers brushing his arm. “It’s perfect, baby”

With a final deep breath, he hit post, setting the phone down and letting out a long, steadying exhale. They sat there in the quiet of their room, wrapped up in each other as the reality of what they’d just done settled over them. This was the first time they were sharing their son with the world, and it felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

Within moments, notifications began to flood in, messages of excitement, love, and support from fans around the world who had been waiting eagerly for news like this. Harry glanced at YN, his hand finding hers once more as he gave her a small, relieved smile.

”Cats out’v the bag.” He laughed softly.

She leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “They love you, H. They’ll love him, too.” She reassured.

As the sun finally began to rise outside their window, casting a gentle warmth over the room, Harry held her close, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t expected. Despite the forced timing, despite the circumstances, they had done this together. And from this moment on, they would continue this journ, hand in hand, as a family.

Weeks passed by, and it another chilly March evening, and soft candlelight flickered in the bathroom, casting a warm glow over the walls as steam rose lazily from the tub. The couple sat tucked into the water, surrounded by a mountain of bubbles that floated between them. The bathroom was cozy as Harry’s arms wrapped around her from behind, she leaned back against his chest, her bump nestled between them.

He’d insisted on running the bath for her, adding just the right amount of lavender oil to soothe her muscles, and now they were enveloped in that warm, calming scent, the soft sounds of water lapping around them. Harry’s hands rested gently on her belly, his fingers tracing light circles over the stretched skin as he hummed contentedly, clearly lost in thought.

After a few minutes of quiet, he dipped his head to press a kiss to her shoulder, murmuring, “You know, we haven’t really settled on a name yet.”

YN grinned, biting back a laugh. "Sure we have. Fetus Styles—don’t you remember?”

Harry groaned dramatically, his head falling back against the tub. "God help this boy."

She chuckled, turning her head to look at him. "Fine, fine. So, what do you have in mind, love?"

Harry hummed thoughtfully, his fingers still tracing light circles over her bump. "I dunno. Something that isn’t Fetus or something basic, like David.”

"Otis?" she suggested with a playful smirk. She knew he hated the name.

He snorted, his chest vibrating against her back, shaking his head. "Baby, Otis is the name of that big slobbery dog at the park. Our son deserves better than being named after a drool machine."

She playfully splashed a few bubbles toward him, her laughter filling the room.. "Alright, alright. So, we're vetoing Otis and Fetus, oh wise one.”

“Good,” he said, lowering his head ever so slightly and nibbling her shoulders gently. “So, what else is on your list, then?”

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to recall some of the names she’d been turning over in her mind. “I do like Ezra.”

“Ezra,” he repeated, as if tasting the sound of it. “It’s alright. But it sounds like he’d be in a jazz band or something.”

“Maybe he’ll be in a jazz band,” she countered, grinning as she nudged his arm. “A little musician just like his dad.”

Harry hummed, his fingers lightly drumming a rhythm against her belly. “Alright, fair point. Ezra can be a maybe. What else?”

She let out a thoughtful hum, swirling her hand through the bubbles. “What about August?”

“August’s alright I guess,” he said slowly, tilting his head as he considered it. “But I don’t know. August Styles..feels like he’d be a mischievous little troublemaker.”

“Like his dad, you mean?” she teased, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.

He grinned, shrugging. “If he takes after me, he’ll definitely be one,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But I dunno. Still doesn’t feel quite right. But I do like the idea of an A name.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each of them lost in their thoughts as the water lapped softly around them. Harry’s hands moved back to her belly, his touch gentle and reverent, as if he were trying to connect with their son through the warm water and the growing curve of her bump. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of the bath and the feeling of his arms around her.

After a while, Harry spoke again, his voice soft and thoughtful. “What about Atlas?”

YN opened her eyes, blinking up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “Atlas?”

“Yeah.” He shifted slightly, his hand still resting on her belly as he looked at her, his eyes warm. “It’s strong, y’know? Unique. I like the idea of him having a name that feels like he could carry the world if he wanted to.”

YN let the name settle, repeating it to herself, and feeling it take root, becoming more than just a word. “Atlas Styles,” she said softly, letting the sound roll off her tongue. “It fits him, I think. Strong like his kicks.” She giggled.

Harry’s face lit up as he grinned down at her, his dimples deepening, a twinkle of something unspoken sparking in his eyes. “Exactly,” he murmured, trailing a hand gently over her bump. “Atlas Styles. Got the name of a proper legend already. Manchester United should be countin’ themselves lucky.”

YN laughed again, rolling her eyes as she turned to face him. “Oh, really? Our boy is still going to save Manchester United, is he?”

“Obviously,” Harry said, his grin widening. “Just imagine it—Atlas Styles, midfield maestro, dominating the pitch. The crowd chanting his name.” He mimics the sound of a roaring crowd in a hush, “‘Atlas! Atlas!” He chanted in a whisper, “United will have never seen anything like him. They’d be winning the league every season with a name like that.”

She shook her head, fighting a laugh as she slipped a few bubbles onto his nose. “Right, because he won’t be busy enough carrying the world. He’ll just take Manchester United on his back too?”

Harry shrugged, brushing the bubbles away with a look of mock seriousness. “Our little Atlas can handle it all. With a name like that, he’ll be unstoppable.” He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “But, if he’s not into football, I s’pose that’s alright too.”

YN smiled, squeezing his hand, warmth spreading through her as she thought of their little Atlas and all the dreams they had for him—footballer or not, world-bearer or not, he would be loved beyond measure.

*

The rain pattered softly against the window as April rolled in, casting a gentle gray light over the nursery. YN stood by the door, watching Harry wrestle with the crib pieces scattered across the floor. She cradled her belly, which had grown significantly in the last month. Her due date was set for mid-May, only a few weeks away, and she could feel the weight of their son settling lower, as if he, too, was getting ready for the journey ahead.

Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, brow furrowed in intense concentration as he squinted at the instruction manual. The crib, which he had eagerly declared would be a breeze to assemble, now looked more like puzzle pieces that lay scattered around him, screws and wooden slats in disarray, as he muttered under his breath.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” YN asked with a soft grin, leaning against the doorway as she watched him struggle.

He looked up, shooting her a playful glare. “I’ve got it, thanks,” he insisted, though he seemed far from convinced himself. He twisted a screwdriver, only for the wood to creak ominously in protest. Harry’s cheeks flushed, and YN bit her lip, stifling a laugh.

“Sure you do,” she teased, crossing her arms over her bump. “Maybe our son will be crawling by the time you figure that out.”

Harry chuckled, dropping the screwdriver with a resigned sigh. “Alright, alright,” he said, running a hand through his curls as he gave her a dramatic pout. “Go on, laugh at the man trying his best to be a good dad. Just what I need, huh?”

She laughed, stepping into the room to get a closer look at his progress—or lack thereof. “You’re doing great, honey,” she said, her tone light. “Maybe just… not great at building cribs?”

He rolled his eyes, but the hint of a grin played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue,” he mumbled. Then, before she could respond, he reached out, gently tugging her down to sit beside him.

“Hey!” she gasped, though she let him guide her down, leaning into his arms. Her back rested against his chest, and Harry wrapped his arms around her middle, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

He maneuvered her gently onto the carpet, hovering over as his hands resting on either side of her, leaning close, his face only inches from hers, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I should distract you so y’can’t mock me,” he murmured, his voice teasing.

Before she could respond, he started peppering her face with kisses—one on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin. She squealed, laughing as he continued, his lips brushing against her skin, his stubble tickling her and sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Harry!” she gasped between breaths, her hands on his shoulders as she tried to squirm away. “You’re ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?” he repeated, grinning as he planted a kiss just above her lips. “Maybe. But it’s working, isn’t it?”

She gave him a playful shove, but he only laughed, pulling her closer as he trailed his kisses down to her neck, the weight of him comforting as he hovered over her, his hands gentle on her sides. Finally, when her laughter had softened, he leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze warm and full of affection.

God, how he loved her.

After a moment, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “Alright,” he said with a sigh, glancing over at the mess of crib parts. “Maybe I could use those hands of yours.”

YN smiled, brushing her hand down his chest. “Hm,” she hummed, “where?”

“Oi!” The brunette giggled, swatting her wandering hand away as he sat up, shifting to be beside her. “Wicked woman, you are. Get to work.”

She huffed, although there was no anger residing in her. Maybe an ache between her thighs, but that’s something she could sort out with her husband later. She sat up, sitting cross legged beside Harry as he reached for the instruction manual.

The two of them sat side by side on the nursery floor, her hand resting over his as they sorted through the crib parts. Harry studied the instructions once more, pointing out the next few steps with a renewed confidence that was helped by her steady presence beside him. YN held the pieces steady while Harry carefully tightened each screw, the two of them working together, their laughter filling the room whenever something went slightly wrong.

Finally, after some teamwork, a bit of trial and error, and more than a few shared smiles, they placed the last piece into place, and the crib stood finished in front of them. They both sat back, admiring their handiwork, their hands intertwined as they took in the sight of the nursery coming together, piece by piece.

Harry looked over at YN, his gaze soft as he took in her face, still flushed from laughter. “Not bad for a couple of first-timers, huh?”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, holding her hands out in front of them and wiggling her fingers. “Thanks to these.”

He snorted, gently taking her chin in his grasp to force her to look at him. “Shut up and kiss me.”

As time passed by quicker than ever, spring took the city by full force, it was finally May. Flowers bloomed in their garden, trees shook with the delicate breeze of a looming summer. The sun fell behind the hills later and later, still offering a golden glow as they ate dinner.

A gentle rain drummed against the windows as YN and Harry shared a cozy dinner on the sofa, the warm light of a movie and fading sunlight flickering across their faces. They were nestled together, plates balanced on laps (and bump) as they laughed at an old comedy. Outside, the world felt comfortably distant. Everything about this moment felt ordinary, like the calm before a long-anticipated storm.

But YN hadn’t been entirely honest with Harry tonight. She had felt a dull ache creeping into her lower back and belly since late afternoon, a sensation she had brushed off as yet another round of Braxton Hicks contractions. Her OB had warned her that false alarms would be common in these final weeks, and she’d already had a few where they’d rushed to the hospital only to be sent back home. So tonight, she’d told herself that it was nothing—just her body practicing, nothing more. But as they watched the movie, she found herself shifting uncomfortably, her breaths deepening whenever another wave rolled through her.

The contractions had grown stronger as they ate, each one hitting her lower back with a dull, throbbing ache before tightening sharply across her belly. She bit her lip, forcing a smile whenever Harry glanced her way, trying to play it off. But she couldn’t ignore the way her body tensed or the cold bead of sweat she felt on her brow as she worked to stay composed.

As they finished their dinner, Harry stretched and stood, gathering their plates with a grin. “Think I’ll wash these up. You just sit there and relax, yeah?”

She smiled, nodding as he carried their dishes into the kitchen. He hummed softly to himself as he washed the plates, oblivious to the intensity of the pain building within her. She took a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sofa as a new wave hit, this one sharper than before, radiating from her lower back and spreading between her hips, each pulse making her muscles contract and tighten. She fought to keep her breathing steady, her mind racing as she tried to convince herself it was nothing.

But then, as she watched Harry rinse a glass, her vision blurred with another wave of pain—deeper, sharper, as if her body was tightening from the inside out. Her breath hitched, and this time she couldn’t hide the small gasp that escaped her. She braced herself against the sofa, her fingers digging into the fabric as she fought to breathe through it.

Harry looked over, his brow furrowing as he noticed the tension on her face. He set the glass down in the sink, wiping his hands on a towel as he stepped back into the living room. “Love?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. “You alright?”

She forced a smile, trying to play it off, but her voice came out strained. “I’m fine. Just–“ She grunted, “Braxton Hicks, I think.” But even as she spoke, it was like an aftershock of an earthquake, stealing her breath, the pain sharper than before. Her hand flew to her belly, fingers pressing down instinctively, and she had to close her eyes, focusing all her energy on breathing through it.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he knelt beside her, his hand moving to rest on her knee. “That doesn’t look like Braxton Hicks,” he said gently, his voice laced with concern. “How long’s this been going on?”

She hesitated, looking down as she tried to keep her breathing composed. “Since– since earlier this afternoon,” she admitted, wincing as the pain reached its peak, leaving her feeling helpless and raw. “I thought it was nothing, really. But it’s–I dunno– it’s getting worse.”

Harry’s face shifted from concern to something closer to alarm. He was quiet for a moment, clearly trying to process her words, before his gaze softened, and he slid his hand to hers, squeezing it gently. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice steadying. “We’re not going to take any chances.”

YN nodded, relief flooding her at the calm resolve in his voice, but as she tried to stand, another contraction gripped her—this time harder than any before. It started as a dull ache that quickly sharpened into an almost searing pressure, as though her whole belly was clenching in waves she couldn’t control. She gasped, her knees buckling slightly as she clutched Harry’s arm.

Harry’s eyes widened as he caught her, his face shifting into a worried frown. “It’s happening, isn’t it?” he whispered, almost to himself, before shaking off the shock and focusing on her. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back down to the sofa with a gentle firmness. “We’re going t’breathe through this one, yeah? Just like we practiced.”

She clung to his hand, squeezing hard as she fought to steady her breathing, but the pain was relentless, each wave feeling sharper than the last. Her body felt like it was working against her, every muscle tightening until she was gasping, unable to fully catch her breath. She buried her face against his shoulder, her voice a shaky whisper. “H, this hurts more than I thought it would.”

He brushed a hand through her hair, his voice soft but unwavering as he held her close. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well. Just focus on breathing, alright? I’ve got you.”

As the contraction faded, she managed to catch her breath, slumping slightly against him, feeling a mix of exhaustion and dread for what was coming next. She felt his hand at the small of her back, steadying her, and she was grateful for the warmth of his touch, the calm he radiated even as she could see the worry flickering in his eyes.

“We’re calling the OB,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “This doesn’t feel like false labor, does it?”

She shook her head, unable to deny the reality that had settled in. “No..I think this is real.”

Harry’s face softened, a mix of pride and worry as he watched her breathe through everything. When the pain passed, he took her face in his hands, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice steady. “We’re going to get you through this, love. One breath at a time.”

With that, he stood, reaching for his phone and dialing their OB, staying right by her side as the call connected. He answered each of the doctor’s questions carefully, glancing at YN between each answer, his hand never leaving hers. After a few minutes, he hung up and turned back to her, a mixture of excitement and resolve in his gaze.

“She says it sounds like early labor,” he told her softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re going t’the hospital. Just you and me, hm?”

YN nodded, taking a steadying breath as she leaned into him, his strength anchoring her. With Harry’s arms wrapped around her, she knew that she had everything she needed to get through this.

The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle as Harry helped YN into the car, settling her carefully into the passenger seat, his hands gentle but steady. Her breaths were deep and focused, each one an effort to keep herself calm as the contractions continued, not close enough to urge a rush but strong enough to leave her nerves buzzing with anticipation. Harry buckled her in, his gaze warm and reassuring as he brushed his hand over her shoulder.

“You’re doing great, sweet girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Next stop, hospital. Just you, me, and our little Atlas.”

YN managed a faint smile, squeezing his hand as he lingered beside her for a moment before closing the door and sliding into the driver’s seat. The car pulled away from their quiet street, its headlights cutting through the misty drizzle, as they made their way into the city. She leaned her head back against the seat, focusing on the rhythm of the rain tapping against the windows, letting the steady sound settle her mind.

As they drove, Harry glanced over at her frequently, his hand occasionally drifting from the wheel to hold hers. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Or if I need to pull over. Anything at all.”

He rambled when he was nervous.

YN nodded, keeping her eyes closed, breathing slowly. Another contraction started, gripping her with that same deep ache that radiated from her back to her belly. She clenched his hand, squeezing as she focused on her breathing, her fingers white-knuckling against his. It was painful, but she willed herself to relax, to breathe through the intensity, letting her breath match the gentle rhythm of the rain.

Harry squeezed her hand back, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. “Out of all women in the world who gave birth, you’re the most beautiful.” He smiled warily. His stupid compliment even made him want to smack himself upside the head. But he looked at his wife expectantly.

When the contraction passed, she released a shaky breath. Part of her wanted to shoot daggers into him with a glare, but looking at that goofy smile she fell in love with, the way his cheeks flushed pink and eyes looked unsure, she couldn’t. She mustered out a weak, breathy laugh.”Shut up.” She whispered.

They reached the hospital, and Harry pulled up to the lot, parking the car before rushing around to help her out. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her through the automatic doors, his gaze steady and protective as he led her to the reception desk. The lobby was quiet, lit by soft fluorescent lights that made the polished floors gleam. Harry gently rubbed her back as they reached the counter, where a man with glasses and a walkie looked up with a polite smile.

“Hi,” Harry said, his voice calm but firm, “we’re here for an admission. Our OB requested it.” He grinned lightly, seeking to be polite despite his nerves. He gave his wife’s name through his smile.

The receptionist nodded, typing something into the computer before glancing back at YN, who was gripping Harry’s hand, her face pale and tense. After a moment, the man looked up. “Alright, we have you here. Just a moment.”

He picked up the phone, speaking briefly with someone before hanging up and nodding toward them. “Patient transport is on the way. We’ll get you into a wheelchair and up to the maternity ward to get settled.”

Harry thanked him, his hand resting on the small of her back, he murmured, “y’doing so well, my sweet girl.”

She leaned into him, exhaling a shaky breath as another mild contraction started to creep in, but before she could fully brace herself, a transport worker arrived with a wheelchair.

Harry helped her ease down into it, kneeling beside her and brushing his thumb over her hand. She looked down at him, her expression a mix of pain and determination. “I’m alright,” she whispered, her words braver than she felt.

He met her gaze, his eyes full of pride and unwavering support. “I know you are,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before he stood and walked beside her as they made their way to the elevator. The ride up was quiet, each floor lighting up in sequence as they ascended to the maternity ward, and she found herself counting each breath, each second, each floor, until they finally reached the unit.

Once inside the labor and delivery ward, they were greeted by a nurse who led them into a dimly lit room that felt strangely peaceful, its walls painted a soft pink, the lights warm and low. The nurse introduced herself, her voice calm and soothing as she helped YN settle onto the bed, helping her into a hospital gown before taking her vital signs and asking a series of questions, jotting down notes while Harry sat by her side, holding her hand.

“Let’s get you as comfortable as we can,” the nurse said gently, adjusting the bed’s settings. “Now, you’re still in early labor, so we’re going to monitor you closely, but it could be a while yet.”

YN nodded, feeling both grateful and anxious at the prospect of waiting. The contractions continued, rolling in like waves, growing in intensity but not yet regular enough to signal active labor. Each one required her full focus; she found herself closing her eyes, breathing deeply as she squeezed Harry’s hand, centering herself with each wave of pain.

Hours passed, the pain deepening with each contraction as her body adjusted, stretching and preparing for the arrival of their son. The nurse checked in periodically, taking notes, adjusting her position, and checking her dilation with gentle reassurance, but progress was slow. The contractions were more frequent now, each one a sharp, relentless pressure that seemed to radiate from deep within her, pulling her to the very edge of her endurance.

Harry never left her side, his hand a steady anchor as he held hers, his voice low and soothing, guiding her through each breath. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as they breathed together. “Just a bit longer, yeah? You got it.”

At one point, the pain became so overwhelming that she couldn’t bear to sit still. Harry helped her stand, wrapping his arms around her as she leaned into him, her face pressed against his chest. Her arms draped over his shoulders, clinging to him as she rocked back and forth, swaying through each contraction, finding relief in the gentle rhythm. He whispered words of encouragement, his hands rubbing her back as she trembled against him, each wave of pain stealing her breath and leaving her gasping.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice a steady hum that she latched onto, focusing on the warmth of his words as the pain pulsed through her. “Just lean on me. I’ve got you.”

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the pain reached a peak, her knees weakening under the weight of it. But Harry held her up, his arms strong and steady, supporting her fully as she swayed, letting the movement carry her through each contraction. She pressed her forehead into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, grounding her, keeping her anchored in the storm of pain.

When the nurse checked again, the news was disheartening—only a few more centimeters dilated. YN felt exhaustion beginning to creep in, the hours of labor sapping her strength, but Harry was there, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, whispering soft reassurances as she closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder.

As the hours ticked by, the contractions grew sharper, more intense, each one like a wave crashing against her, forcing her to draw deeper into herself just to withstand the pain. Harry eased her back onto the bed, pulling a mask toward her face, releasing a gas that would help the pain. Her mind blurred under the relentless rhythm of labor. Yet, every time she opened her eyes, he was there—his gaze steady, his hand in hers, his words like an anchor.

She held the mask to her face with her other hand, breathing it in deeply. As backward as it sounded, even laboring and pushing out a baby, the thought of a seven inch needle being put into her spine scared her even more. The thought of an epidural was tempting, being numbed from the waist down—but it made her stomach churn with anxiety, too. She had enough of that already, so she stuck to the gas.

YN lifted the gas from her nose, staring at Harry through half lidded eyes. “Can’t wait to have sex with you in six weeks.” She mumbled, her voice hazy.

Harry eased the mask back onto her, his cheeks growing red from her clouded words. He let out a breathy laugh, “Okay, one step at a time, hm?”

At last, as dawn began to break outside, the sunlight bleak, barely there. The nurse’s expression shifted as she checked YN’s progress. She smiled, looking up with gentle relief. “We’re almost there,” she said softly. “Just a little bit longer.”

Harry’s face lit up, his eyes shining as he looked down at YN, his voice soft and full of pride. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead, brushing strands of her hair back. “Hear that? Final stretch, baby.”

YN nodded, too exhausted to respond, but the warmth in his eyes gave her the strength to keep going. With every ounce of willpower she had left, she faced the final contractions, the pain almost blinding but her determination carrying her through, and Harry’s voice guiding her every step of the way.

Once she was ten centimeters, a team rushed in. Two nurses and the OB. Her legs were placed into stirrups, her gown bunched up over her tummy.

It was the longest, most intense thirteen hours of her life, but as she felt the final waves of pain, the medical staff guided her through the last moments, she clung to Harry, his hand a lifeline, his presence a comfort that wrapped around her like a shield. And with one last surge, a cry filled the room, and she knew it was all worth it.

“Oh.” She whimpered, her own cry emitting from her as her son was placed onto her bare chest for the first time. A nurse wiped him down as he wriggled against YN, Harry leaning down by her shoulder, staring in awe.

That was his boy, his son. A piece of him and the love of his life brought forth into the world. He wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling he felt as he flickered his gaze between his wife’s and Atlas’s.

Sparse stands of brown locks sat atop his head, a color matching his fathers. He gently placed his hand atop it, his thumb rubbing against his forehead as the little boy continued to cry.

His eyes resembled his mothers, as did his nose. But everything else? That was all Harry. He cooed at him, whispering soft nothings to to his baby boy before the nurse approached him with medical scissors. “Would you like to cut the cord, dad?”

Dad.

Butterflies surged through his tummy.

He drew a deep breath, looking at YN for silent encouragement, to which she only smiled at him. Her husband, the father of her son.

He gently grabbed the scissors from the nurse, hesitantly approaching where he was told to cut. He looked at his Atlas who seemed to calm down a bit, slowly coming to terms with being brought out into the world. He steadied himself, and then with a delicate snip, he cut the cord.

As he handed them back to the nurse, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the enormity of the moment settling over him. He looked down at the two he loved most in the world, lightly grasping onto his little feet and silently counting his tiny toes.

“Sit.” YN softly ordered, holding the boy against her chest with one hand and patting the small spot beside her with the other.

He nodded slowly, easing himself down into the spot after lowering the right side bar so he’d fit. He leaned against YN, his feet still upon the floor.

The baby was swaddled into a pale blue blanket before she handed him over to Harry, his heart melting instantly. He cradled him against his chest, tucking his head down to place delicate kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. “I love you so much.” He whispered, hesitantly ripping his gaze away from his son onto his wife.

His lip quivered as he placed a kiss against her sweaty hair, “Thank you so much.” His voice was delicate, a murmur. “I owe you everything.”

This was all he needed. His heart swelled with a love so profound, it felt almost overwhelming, as if the sheer depth of it might consume him. It was a love that stretched beyond anything he’d known, powerful enough to break him apart and put him back together all at once. But he embraced it, letting it fill every part of him, savoring each precious drop. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt exactly where he was meant to be.

This was home.

[univemma]

I acknowledge that the season was cut almost in half so I should really cut them some slack but I WON'T, SO:

Plot holes/Forgotten Stuff in TUA:

(some of these are mostly just unanswered questions)

-Sloane?? Where tf did she go?

-Why was Jennifer (in the original timeline) in a cage? In Moldova?? Like, was she discovered to have something ( the dimaldo stuff whatever) inside of her, so they wanted to test on her? if she never came into contact with marigold before ben then why would they? WHAT

-also wait how the fuck did she get that stuff in her anyway? How did the dimaldo get to earth after it caused the end of Reginald's home planet? Like,,,shouldnt we know that?

-Her,,,in a squid??? she was Inside a giant squid? W h a t

-the S3 post credits of ben in the train. sure, whatever, that means nothing LMAOO

-I also can't get over - Five explaining "oh yeah when we do this EVERY ALTERNATE TIMELINE is gonna be destroyed, leaving only what should've been - the original," and lila fighitng to put her family in the train station,,,All the other timelines will be destroyed??They're dying and being reborn/reincarnated in the new one anyway GIRL WHAT ARE YOU DOING

(unless ive highly misunderstood that which is likely)

-this isnt a plot hole just - five "trying desperately over and over again to save his unhelpful family who he loves very very much" being literally turned into,,,that. did someone say character assassination?

-lila and five. thats a plot hole in and of itself I DONT CARE if he's aged 12 years from season 3, (6 yr timeskip at beginning of season, then 6 technically 7 in teh train), I DONT CARE IF HES 25 NOW, I DONT CARE IF HES MENTALLY 60 SOMETHING. Lila met and spent time with him when he looked like THIS

THATS A CHILD. and clearly, the family had SOME contact in the 6 yr skip, so she WATCHED HIM GROW UP from 13 - 19, like thats just so WEIRD WHAT

this was supposed to be plot holes and just turned into me being pissed im sorry but HOW DO YOU FUCK UP AN ENDING THIS BAD??

[socialkid]

Imagine…

You’re a well known actress, and your name is pretty big. Like Zendaya big. And your fiancé Katsuki Bakugou is your pro hero boyfriend. Perfect couple right? No literally you are. He goes with you to all your interviews, tapes all of your auditions, and manages to get on your set AT LEAST one time.

Well recently you got casted in a show about an zombie outbreak. You play a main yet supporting character named Halle, a 19 year old girl who is apparently the only survivor left of her family.

Lucky for you the producer highly respects your boyfriend, and he’s allowed to watch you on set whenever. He sits in a chair the directors provide for him every time you film.

He usually supports you and he’ll peak at you from his phone a couple times, but it’s nothing he’s never not seen before.

Now when Bakugou’s passing by his staff’s cubicles and work area in his angency, and he keeps hearing them discuss about ‘Dead of Night’ (your new show) he’s genuinely intrigued.

Apparently the show’s gon viral. And everyone is talking about it. “Yeah, you haven’t seen it yet? I swear you live under a rock.” pro hero Charge Bolt told him. I mean technically he has watched it, he watched you film it! But now that he realizes, he can’t even spell out the plot.

So one day when Bakugou finds the time, he plops down on your sofa and clicks on your series.

Safe to say he might be intrigued…

Now when he watches he’s locked in. Snacks and all, and if he blinks he’s rewinding. It’s all he watches, he’s so interested in the show and can be considered a piece of the show’s fandom.

Now when you’re filming the show, Katsuki shows up a whole lot less. When the directors yell cut and your eyes pan to his empty chair. Katsuki gives you every excuse under the sun as to why he didn’t show up a certain day. You figured maybe he just got bored watching you film and didn’t know how to tell you, so you shrugged it off. You had no clue he was heavily avoiding spoilers. You didn’t even know he watched your show.

So a couple years pass and your show gets renewed for it’s third season. Unfortunately this season, Halle meets her fate. You recorded your last scene for the show, episode 10. Not a dry eye from the media.

The day your character’s death airs is a tragic day for your fans. Especially Bakugou. Mid way through the show as he slurps his spicy ramen his jaw is floored when your character passes. Noodles immediately discarded back into the cup.

So when you get back home and your boyfriend is quietly laying down on the sofa, watching a corny kids cartoon, you’re lost. “Hey Kats.” You say hanging your coat on the rack as you entered. He only replied with a mumble, something along the lines of “hey how was filmineejdirk”. The room was dim, the shades were drawn, and your boyfriend showed no signs of getting up. Was he depressed or something?

You quietly sat down next to him, glancing at the colorful show in front of him. “Katssss…what’s wrong?” You finally asked. No response. Then he slowly shifted upwards, now sitting up to face you. “Halle died.” He responded. He actually looked fustrated.

You were actually shook, you weren’t even aware that your boyfriend was one of the shows viewers. It sort of made up for him not being at your interviews and filming days.

“I’m sorry baby, but I mean I’m still here.” You said, now opening your arms out to embrace him. He took the opportunity, and pulled you into his arms, leaning back onto the sofa once again.

“I know,” he muttered into your neck, tickling your skin, “Yer not Halle though.”

[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING! an outer banks fic

takes place on social media & irl! | rafe cameron x reader

synopsis: a love that never faded, even after years apart. y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she’s moved on—though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she’s forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

rafe, now a famous singer, has spent years pouring his heart into music, each song a reflection of his lingering love for her. his rise to fame has only deepened his longing, but he’s never been able to reach out. he watches from afar, quietly stalking her social media, but never daring to make the first move.

when they meet again, the connection between them is undeniable. but y/n is in a new relationship—safe, steady, everything rafe isn’t. yet as their paths collide, it becomes clear that the love they shared never really faded, even if life moved on without them.

warnings: yearning, slow burn, angst, jealousy, insecurity, mostly sfw, themes of fame and public life, emotional infidelity (?), emotional healing.

meet the characters | y/n | rafe |

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |

a/n : i’ll try to update quickly, but honestly i’m starting this during finals season so idk 💔. excited for you guys to read!!

[fictionalmenxyn]

ꨄ𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭ꨄ

Pairing: Drew Starkey x actress!reader (established relationship) (prompt, see post below for context/what prompt is)

(Also ik Drew has sister/s. Idk how old they actually are so imma make it up to fit the story line) (reqs are open!!!)

Warnings: language, SMUT, p in v, no mentions of protection (wrap before you tap), detailed-ish smut. (First smut post so sos if it’s bad!)

𐬺ꨄ𐬺

Being back in your hometown felt great. After finishing the latest season of Outer Banks, you both wanted a small break. So that’s exactly what you did.

It was currently 11:38pm, all the younger siblings were in the basement. You were the eldest out of your siblings. You had two brothers and one sister. Your sister was 17 as your brothers were 15 and 13. Drew’s sisters were both 18 and 19.

You and Drew were in the kitchen. While all the siblings were in the movie room (your parents converted basement). You wore one of Drew’s grey sweatshirts and a pair of (has favourite) navy cycling shorts. Drew wore some grey sweats, his Calvin waistband poking out of the waistband of his sweats.

You sat on the island counter, a bowl of grapes in your lap. Drew leaned against the counter opposite you. You were watching something on your phone, he just watched you. God he could eat you up, right here, right now.

He stepped forward, standing between your legs. He placed the bowl down onto the counter next to you. He placed his hands either side of you, on the counter. “Hey, baby?” You look up to him. “Yeah?”

He grinned a little “you know… we haven’t had, ‘us’ time in a while… with all the filming and stuff… and you here, in my sweatshirt and those little navy shorts you know I love dearly… makes me think things…”

You smiled, putting your phone down “oh yeah? What things?” He chuckled lowly, moving his face closer to yours “well, all our siblings are in the basement… our parents are all over my parents place… we could head up to your room?” You smirked. Pecking his lips “sure, ba-”

Next thing you know you’re over his shoulder as he carried you to your room.

He opened the door with his spare hand. Then closing it with his foot. He walked over to your bed and placing you down.

Climbing, so he’s hovering over you. He moves his lips against yours. Kissing you as if he hasn’t in years. Drew was one for physical touch, he was heavy on hand holding and kisses. You kiss back, matching his energy. He groaned against your lips. He pulled away, only a centimetre. He whispered “god missed this, so much… gonna take you, right here.. right now, okay baby?” You nodded “yeah…”

His hands go to your thighs, pulling them apart. Letting himself kneel between them. He starts to kiss you again as his hands rub your thighs gently. His hands soon get to the waistband of your cycling shorts. He mumbled against your lips “love these shorts… but they gotta go… getting in the way of my sweet girl…” he tugs down your cycling shorts in one swift movement. Discarding your shorts to the floor.

His hips pressed against your pantie covered entrance. You hummed “fuck, Drew…miss you…” he knew what you were referring to. “Yeah? Missed my cock, babe?” You nodded. He grinned. He rolled his hips against you. Causing a soft gasp. God you could never get over how big he was. Being lovers for three and a half years, still you couldn’t fathom how huge he was. Still took all of him though, which he loved.

He rolled his hips again, he groaned “fuck baby…” he grabbed both waistbands of his sweats and boxers. Taking them off together, at the same time. Making him completely naked. He climbed back between you. You softly moaned as you felt him rub against you. He grinned “shall we get rid of this, sweetheart?” He tugs on your panties. You nod, not wanting to waste anytime.

You were completely bare, besides the oversized sweatshirt of his still on you. Just how he liked you, bare, but in his clothes.

He rubbed against you again. He groaned at how excited you could get, every time. Seeing you drenched for him, made him feral. He slowly pushed in, making small rolls as he adds more of himself to you. Causing soft moans each thrust.

Once he was completely in, you leaned down onto you. His face close to yours “gonna make you feel so good, sweet girl… I love you… so much.” You press a kiss to his forehead “I love you too, Drew.”

His fingertips rub up your forearms. Then interlocking and holding your hands into the mattress.

He started to slowly thrust, causing you to gasp. The noises becoming music to his ears. He slowly started to lick up the pace. His one hand lets go of yours, moving under the sweatshirt and needing your breast softly and lovingly.

Meanwhile, downstairs, both girls from each side were wanting you both for help. The coffee machine wasn’t working, only you and Drew knew how it works. Since both parents were over Drew’s family’s house; you two were their only help.

Drew moved his hand down from your chest to your thigh. Pushing it into the mattress more. His thrusts started to get sloppy and quick, every other would be hard thrusts.

You were a moaning mess, Drew smiles, knowing he does this to you. And only you.

Drew spoke “fuck, you look so good..taking all of me, like a good girl… always one f’me aren’t ya? Love when I fill you, don’t you?” You nodded. Your head tilting back into the pillows. He smiled.

Drew picked up the pace, moving the fastest he could go. You could feel the edge staring to come. You were almost there, about to finish. He could feel it, he was almost there too. Loving how you feel against him “feelin’ so good f’me baby… ssshhiitt…” he moaned. You rolled you eyes as his thrust became harder than before.

Both sisters headed upstairs, to the second floor. They walked down the hallway. As they got closer to your room, they walked over to the door.

You mumble to Drew “Drew, fuck… hmm shit.. gonna- ohhh…” Drew grinned “gonna finish with me, baby?” You nodded. Your free hand coming up to his bicep as you dig your nails into his muscle. He moaned at how much that turned him on.

Your sister knocked the door and opened it. Drew’s eyes widen, quickly pulling the covers over your lower bodies. He leaned down into you.

Both sister’s eyes widened. Your sister, Kayla spoke “what?! Ew you guys! Couldn’t you wait till we were all in bed?!?” You chuckled. Drew on the other hand… he hid his face in the crook of your neck. His intwined hand squeezing yours. He felt embarrassed, not cause of being caught making love to you. But the fact it was his sister, you’ve been walked in on a few times. Austin has walked in on you guys a few times on set; that being the reason you don’t do it on set anymore. But when it’s family, that’s different.

Drew spoke against your shoulder “what do you two want?!” Kayla giggled “uh the coffee machine isn’t working, we wanted to see if you two could fix it.. but clearly you’re busy.” You chucked “oh shut up Kay!” She playfully gasped “what?! I can’t help it if you two are getting frisky while we’re all awake still!” You playfully roll your eyes “you done now??” Kayla chuckles and nods “well let you get back to your… entertainment…” you flip off your sister “close the door in the way out!”

As she shuts the door, she calls out “make sure to lock it next time, dad didn’t put one on there for no reason…”

Once they left, Drew removed his head from the crook of your neck. He looked down at you “um…” you chuckles softly. Carding your fingers through his hair. “Turned off, huh?” He nodded. Not wanting to admit it, but he couldn’t lie to you. You knew exactly what to do. You grabbed both his wrists and gently tug him closer to you.

You whispered “want me to ride you? I’ll let you kiss my chest when I do it?? How’d that sound?” He moaned softly. “I’ll take that as a yes?” He nodded and gently pulled out before flipping you both over.

Letting you straddle him as he leaned back against the headboard. He placed his hands in your hips, just wanting to touch you. You slowly started to rock your hips. You leaned forward, letting his mouth attach to your chest. Moving from the left side to the right. He worked away as you rocked your hips. Slowly picking up the pace. You moaned his name. He groaned and started to rock up into you.

When you felt that similar feeling in your lower stomach, once again. You felt his hands move under your thighs. Holding you up so he could fastly rock up into you. Both of you moaning together. You gasp “Drew! Gonna!” He replied “right there with ya…. Fuck baby, cum on me, sweetheart… so fuckin good” You held onto his shoulders. Finishing down his cock, he groaned as his pace slowed down. He soon came a second or two after you. His hips stutter as he finished too. He moans your name as he does.

He then puts you back down on his lap. He tucked some hair behind your ear. He placed his hand in the back of your neck. Pulling you in for a few soft kisses. Then pulling away and resting your forehead to his. He mumbles “forgot about the lock, haven’t done it in here for a while, huh?” You chuckle. Agreeing with him. Last time was when you were both seventeen. Both of you wanted to be each other’s firsts, thinking it was better to be close to someone when you both do it for the first time. Which can come off as cute. Even if you didn’t date till a few years ago. He presses a few more kisses to your lips and forehead before starting up a bath for you both. Which was then followed by some movies and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

𐬺ꨄ𐬺

[planetary]

25 SHOCKING TRUTHS ABOUT YOUR FAVORITE CHILDHOOD TV SHOWS😱

1. POKEMON - ash is in a coma and the show is he's dreaming

2. RUGRATS - the babies are on drugs

3. edd edd eddy - they died in 1962 (tuberculosis)

4. scoopy doo - theyre on drugs too and the dog cant really talk :(

5. rugrats - angela is in a coma and the show is her dream

6. spongbob - songebob is in a coma and the show is his dream

7. spongebob - spongebob and his friends are the christian hell sins

8. spoinegbob - squidward is heroin?

9. COURAGE THE COWARDLY DOG - it was real it was all real none of that was a dream or a nightmare everything you remember is real

10. rugarts - angela is on drugs and all the other ones are dead

11. jimmy neutraon - jimmy is weird because he is gay

12. fairly oddparsnts - timmy is in a coma and the show is his dream

13. spongebob - sandy is taxidermy

14. higgly town heroes - higgly town is all cannibals and they eat other people and thats why they do that . how could they do that..? my heroes..

15. max & ruby - they are bunny rabbits and thast because thrre was. an apocalypse and max is a real human little boy but there was an apocalypse and his parents died and he's with ruby but he got hit on the head with a steel pipe because of the apocalypse so now he's in a coma and the show is his dream

16. disney aladdin movie - the tiger head cave is really really scary

17. danny phantom died - this one really happened they tell you in the theme song and you can see it happen in blood and gorey detail if you watch that one scary episode that only comes on at 3am. does anyone else remember that episode

18. dora the explorer - dora is on crack

19. faaiely odd parents - the fairies are drugs and timmy takes drugs and maybe goes into a coma for this reason and maybe has a dream that they're his magic fairies

20. caillou - hes bald. this theoru explains that cailiu has no hair because he is bald. and perhaps his parents are nice to him because he is bald. this could also explain why he has no hair (because hes bald)

21. courage the cowarsly dog - courage is a dog and he's in a coma and

22. the magic schoolbus - its magic because the bus was on drugs and then it blew up (becasue it was high) and they all went to purgatory and clones took their place

23. tom and jerry - tom should have been allowed to cook and eat that baby chick. and its fucked up that the show didnt allow him to. me and my friends watched it and we were all clapping and cheering for him to cook and eat it and we were so excited but of course the writers pussied out and didnt let him do it

24. finding nemo - that thing in the beginning didnt even happen but the dad made that story up so people would feel bad for him

25. sponegbob - in the latest season patrick says "Ok boomer!" to mermaid man and barancle boy

CHILDHOOD = RUINED 😫

[willowsnook]

Expensive fight (18+)

Can i please request a lil bit of a salami and pulled pork? (Totally all good if it's just the salami one tho) and can i get that with tomato on white bread, pretty please? But also, could we make it mikes way?

lando norris x gf!reader

She isn’t you

I’d be insane not to love you

“She isn’t you,” Lando said exasperated. “I don’t understand why you’re being so insecure about this.”

“It’s fucking insulting for you even to think I am being insecure,” you snapped back at him. You two had been going at it for the past 15 minutes in your shared Monaco apartment. Lando had just gotten back from London and you were pissed about something he had said on one of Max’s streams. 

“Then what’s the issue?” He said firmly and you threw up your hands. 

“The issue is what you said on the fucking stream!” You yelled. “Now I’m being tagged in all this shit about you cheating on me.”

All season long, the internet has been speculating about Lando cheating on you with a well-known influencer. It was comical to you at first, but it got annoying fast, and Lando’s refusal to address it was starting to wear you down. Someone in the chat had asked about it, and Lando's response, “I’m not going to comment on that,” just sent the internet into a flurry. 

“I’ve told you a million times to stop looking at what the internet says,” he said, irritated. 

“You first,” you shot back, and he glared at you. Shoving past him, you stalked into your bedroom, pulling out your small carry-on suitcase. 

“What are you doing?” Lando asked, watching you pull clothes from your drawers and closet and putting them in the case. 

“Leaving. Clearly, I’m not a priority for you right now and that’s fine. So i’m going to get out of you hair for a little bit. Wouldn’t want me bitching at you to be a distraction,” you said sarcastically, and he rolled his eyes. 

“You are overreacting,” he said tightly, not moving to stop you. 

“You don’t even want to know what me overreacting would look like,” you seethed, getting into his face. 

“Fine,” he said, pulling out his wallet and handing you his credit card. “I’ll let my pilot know you’re heading to the airport.”

You snatched the card out of his hand and left without another word. 

Lando was not happy about the situation but felt somewhat okay with you leaving, knowing that you had his card and that he would have eyes on you through other people he knew. It had been a rough season for your relationship. You’d been together for 5 years, but you were in the trenches this year. Lando’s stress about the WDC, the online hate, and your inability to go to as many races due to work was taking a toll. You both knew you would get through it, but it was tough right now. 

Honestly, he figured that you’d only be gone for a couple of days. He loved you for your fiery attitude but knew you were a softy at heart and was counting on you breaking first. But the weekend came and went, and you still haven’t returned. He knew you were in NYC, wincing as he saw the list of charges to his card, but he hadn’t heard a peep from you. He’d paid the hotel staff a big sum to alert him every time they saw you coming or going so that he’d at least know you were alive. 

What was kind of amusing about the situation was that fans had spotted you out and about, so now the rumors had even more fuel to them, which was exactly what you didn’t want. You wouldn’t admit that to him, though. 

Lando hopped on to stream with Max, and his friend could immediately tell he was miserable. 

“She’s not back then?” He asked cautiously, and he heard Lando sigh over the mic. 

“Nope,” Lando replied. 

“Have you talked to her?”

“Nope.”

“Yikes, man,” Max said, and Lando hummed in agreement. The chat was going crazy, with questions pouring in about y/n being in NYC, and fans now confirming that you two were beefing. 

“Let me just clear the air for everyone,” Lando said into the mic. “Y/n is the love of my life. We have been together since we were 19 and we will be together until we are 90. I have never cheated on her, and I would literally rather cut my dick off than do that.”

“Well said mate,” Max said chuckling. 

“Now everyone, please blow up her social media and beg her to talk to me again,” Lando pleaded, and Max laughed loudly. “especially because I haven’t had a real meal in days.” 

Meanwhile, you had watched the stream replay over lunch and almost gave in and bought a flight back home, especially when your phone actually started blowing up with fans begging for your forgiveness. But you had already told one of your coworkers based in NYC that you’d meet him out for dinner, so the flight would have to wait until tomorrow. 

You spent the day shopping to fill out more of your winter closet. You picked up some clothes for Lando, too, along with a new watch and cologne. You were sure that some people would probably throw a fit knowing that you were charging this all to Lando’s card, but you knew he would prefer it. He made so much money that he would have preferred you quit your job to just hang out with him 24/7, but you loved what you did. 

Putting on a new dress you had bought, you headed out to meet your coworker for dinner. He’d picked a cute little pizza place close to your hotel, and you were excited to see him. He had started around the same time as you and you’d become fast friends despite never seeing each other in person. 

The two of you talked for hours, and you posted a selfie to your Instagram story to capture the moment and slightly hoping it would piss Lando off because you were still feeling crazy. Hugging your coworker goodbye, you hailed a taxi back to your hotel. Walking through the lobby, you did a double take at a man sitting on a sofa near the elevators. 

Lando’s gaze burned into yours, taking in your new dress and how it fit on your body. He had a black duffle bag next to him that he grabbed when he saw you stop. He said nothing as his hand found your lower back, guiding you into the elevator. It stopped on the next floor up, and a lot of people piled in causing him to pull you into him aggressively. His fingers were digging into your hips and you knew he was pissed. So the picture definitely worked. 

You led him to the room and he set his bag down while you sat down on the bed, waiting for him. 

“That’s a nice dress,” he said darkly. “Is it new?”

“Yep,” you said, not backing down from his stare. 

“New earrings?”

“Yep.” 

“I’m sure that guy on your story loved them,” he said and you smirked. You had him right where you wanted him. 

“Jealous baby?” you mocked and he was in front of you in an instant, gripping your jaw hard as he forced you to look at him. 

“I should fuck this brattiness out of you,” he growled. 

“What’s stopping you?” You purred and he snapped. 

“Knees,” he demanded, pulling you off the bed. His pants and boxers were already down by the time you were ready and you smirked up at him. 

“Needy for me?” He responded by shoving himself into your mouth, groaning as he hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. His hands found the side of your head to get a better grip and he thrust in and out of your mouth with no care for how you were doing as he aimed to punish you. Tears were leaking down your face as he shoved all the way in, holding himself there until you coughed out. Gasping for air, he smirked down at you while wiping the spit that was drooling off of your chin. 

“Not so talkative now,” he cooed, and you found the energy to glare at him. He reached down to scoop you up before putting you on the bed, facing the mirror on the opposite wall. He pulled you up to your hands and knees and wrapped his hand in your hair, yanking your head back to look ahead. 

“Now you’re going to watch me fuck the attitude out of you, okay baby?”

You nodded, looking at your tear-stained face looking back at you. Normally, you would complain about him not going down on you, but the way he was acting right now had you soaking wet. 

“I need you Lando,” you whined, and he grinned at you in the mirror. 

“As you wish,” he replied before pushing all the way in and moving quickly in and out, not allowing you to adjust. His hand was still wrapped around your hair and you were having a hard time staying upright as he pounded into you. 

Lando let go of your hair and you collapsed forward, breathing heavily into the comforter on the bed. His hand found your clit and you whimpered at the sensation of that plus him moving inside of you. 

“Feel good baby?” He rasped and you whimpered in response. “My little whore, thinking she could run away from me.”

You moaned out at his words, your first orgasm quickly washing over you without warning. Lando cursed as you clenched around him and let you ride it out before pulling out. He dragged you to the other side of the bed, laying you on your back so that you could look at him. 

His dick found its way inside of you again, and you cried out, still sensitive after your climax.

“I know baby,” he whispered. “Just a little more okay?” 

You nodded lazily as he pushed all the way in, taking a much slower pace than he previously had. He started to pick it up, and you reached out to grab the back of his head and pull him down to you. His lips met yours eagerly and you moaned into his mouth, climbing closer to the edge once again. Moving your lips down to his neck, you sucked harshly, causing him to let out a soft whine. 

“I’m close,” he groaned as he drove into your hips over and over. You felt your body getting hot and knew you were about to go over the edge. 

“Cum in me, please Lan,” you begged as your back arched off the bed during your climax; he grunted into your ear, spilling into you before he collapsed on top. 

He took a few minutes to catch his breath before moving off the bed, and scooping you up in his arms, moving towards the bathroom. He gently set you down before turning on the faucet to fill the bath. 

“Are you okay?” He murmured, finally looking over at you. 

“Mmmhmm,” you replied and he smiled softly at you. 

“Come on, princess,” he urged as he got into the bath. You stepped in, sitting in front of him, your back leaning against his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you and he sighed contently as he rested his chin on your head. 

“Do you still love me?” You asked vulnerably and Lando had to hold back his laugh. 

“Of course, baby. I’d be insane not to love you,” he replied, and you turned your head to smile at him. I’m sorry about this year. It’s been hard, and I could have been doing a lot more to show you how much I love you.” 

“I forgive you Lan,” you said softly. “You’re under a lot of stress and I could be more sensitive to that.” 

He buried his head in your neck, wondering how he got so lucky to have you. Before joining you in bed, he drained the bath and put on a pair of boxers. You laid your head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, tracing your skin lightly. 

“I was planning on returning tomorrow,” you admitted, and he chuckled.

“Damn, so I only had to hold out for one more day,” he said.

“You probably would have given yourself food poisoning,” you muttered, and he smiled cheekily at you. 

“I knew you watched the stream,” he boasted, and you rolled your eyes. 

“I had to after I woke up to a million Twitter mentions. You being a simp so publicly made me forgive you instantly. It's embarrassing behavior.” 

He tickled your sides, making you giggle and shift onto him. He guided your head up to his and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, moving slowly. 

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he whispered and you nodded before laying back down on him. 

“Me either,” you mumbled. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied and you felt yourself starting to drift off. “But you have to call the bank in the morning and explain that my card wasn’t stolen.” 

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼: 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸

Stepdad!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1979 and it's the summer after graduation. You want to make the most of the vacation, but going to shady dance bars is a lot harder now that your new stepfather works for the DEA.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, cops and raids, stepdad trope and all that comes with, minor DUBCON, big juicy age gap [reader is 18/19 when she meets Javi, Javi is in his mid 40s], reader wears a dress, petnames, mommy issues ™ , alcohol consumption, mean!brat tamer!dom!Javi then soft!Javi, brat!reader, rough sex, “virginity” loss & minor mention of blood, sex in the woods on the hood of Javi’s car, mentions of F masturbation, some reader x oc, Javi gives reader her first orgasm, major size kink [Javi is bigger than the reader, can rough house with her], degradation, dumbification, reader is insanely horny, satanic levels of dirty talk, finger sucking, choking, spanking [with a belt and hand] , a few slaps [as always], fingering, unprotected P in V [be better!!], creampie. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I am impossibly excited for this stepdad trilogy. This is part 1/3 so it’s only 1/3 the fun and debauchery. Few Easter eggs thrown in.. see if you can spot em 🤭.This is set up after the events of season 2 and before the events of season 3, in a year where Javi is taking a break before Cali, but feel free to imagine otherwise. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

​​Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

Once I had a love and it was divine

Soon found out I was losing my mind

It seemed like the real thing, but I was so blind

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

You stood at the entrance, one foot tapping restlessly on the wooden floorboards. In an effort to keep your head down you fiddled aimlessly with the clasp on your watch, knowing full well you weren’t going to be paying attention to anything but the time that flashed on its face. An older, blonde woman came stomping onto the patio, swinging the wooden door behind you so hard on her way the rattle it produced when it slammed shut knocked the flimsy “BAR” sign right off. You jumped, then took another step away from the establishment.  

You could almost feel the bass of the engine thrumming in your chest as it got closer. The tires crunched against the gravel as it neared. You still couldn’t see it. You hoped it was her. 

It wasn’t long before a red convertible was nearing, the number plate sending a shaky, relieved sigh hurtling past your lips. Agitated, drunk and anxiety ridden, you ran towards and then jumped into Lorrain’s car– hoping and praying the ride would give you a beat to sober up. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to sneak back into your room well past midnight. It was so much of a habit you could sell a course on how to accomplish it with the utmost skill and precision. What was rare, however, was having to perform the task while shaken up so severely. The side of your small, once welcoming home seemed more alien than ever, your bedroom looking far higher off the ground than you remembered. 

Nevertheless, a few missteps and about 10 minutes later you stumbled through your open window, quickly stripping to your underwear and shoving your dirty, alcohol laced clothes under your bed. You cursed your “parents” at the fact that you still needed to do this shit like a fucking highschooler. 

The sound of feet padding towards your bedroom door startled you, and you jumped to pull on your sleep shorts before what you knew was your stepdad coming up the stairs. 

You hoped and prayed he hadn't caught wind of the way you screamed when your foot missed the ledge below your window, or worse, that his partner hadn’t given him a call to inform him of the familiar face he saw at the shack that night. 

No matter how many times you liked to imagine he would bend you over his knee and discipline you, how many times you imagined it was him with his hand under your skirt or head between your legs as some clumsy 20 year old rutted against your thigh, you knew full well if Javier actually ever caught your antics, the consequences were going to be a whole lot less ideal than that. 

As you jumped under the covers you recalled the way Agent Steve Murphy had cocked his head at you back at the bar. The way your stepfather’s partner had squinted his eyes at you in confusion, doing a double take at your skimpy outfit, short dress and boots, the way the men at the bar had their hands all over you. 

You prayed it wasn’t too late before you turned your head away, that it wasn’t too late before you swiftly moved out of that bar, before he could be sure it was you he was seeing. 

Because if he was, there would be absolute hell to pay. 

—

One summer, when you were maybe eight or nine, you developed an absurd obsession with riding your bike up the slope that led away from your small town. Eventually, the uphill roads veered away, twisting and turning into a thousand different rocky paths that converged at one point only a few hundred metres from the large sign that welcomed people into the town. The singular, welcoming road led straight into the woods. Back then, it seemed endless, providing a warm, hospitable buffer for the hills that loomed over the town with a somewhat protective intimidation. Like the woods were watching over your every move. 

Everyday, for three months, you’d bust out your front door at 18:00 on the dot and make the journey uphill. Exhaustively pushing your bike past that sign and into what was nature's much welcome respite from your mothers neglectful cruelty. You collected rocks by the stream that ran through those woods, leaves and flowers to keep in your room. It was like they were magic. Like they wanted to get to know you, be your friend. The trees formed a canopy over you, like they wanted to shield you from the winds and the setting sun, and most importantly from the town below. 

One day you remember hearing some rustling coming from up the stream. You didn't think much of it, must have been a deer or something of the sort. You continued foraging for little flowers and rocks, that was until you came across something that didn't really belong. A piece of white lace. It looked new, but dirty, there was cotton under half of it. It seemed like it was part of a dress. Someone must have lost it up there. You didn't investigate. Things were calm and quiet again as usual, but it wasn't long before the rustling from upstream got louder, just slightly, and you heard the clatter of a metal rod to the ground, followed by a heavier, louder thud. 

You turned on your heel and away from the stream, it took you four minutes to find the welcome sign to your town again. By 19:00 you were home. 

You never went back to the woods again. That August your mother informed you you were going to school in the city. 

— 

To say you were unhappy to come home from boarding school to the news your mother was marrying a cop would be an understatement, and while you tried not to be too judgy and give him a chance, to say you were surprised when he turned out to be a complete authoritarian would be an even bigger understatement. 

You knew of Agent Peña, he was somewhat of a local celebrity. You’d seen him on your summers home since you were sixteen- picking up beers at the convenience store, smoking cigarettes outside the petrol station. You and your friends would often drool over him, wait for him to show up at a neighbourhood barbeque, or catch him taking a walk around the block. 

Eventually, you grew up, and outgrew your little hallway crush on the, now, mostly tiresome Agent Peña. Because soon you weren't sixteen. And his holier than thou, saviour complex, and affinity for order only made you roll your eyes. In fact he was quite annoying. He made little effort to contribute to the community, still riding his high from his days in Colombia. 

You wondered why those people revered him like he was taking bullets for your town. 

You were absolutely flabbergasted when you found out your mother was marrying him. At first, a little bit jealous for the teenager who once fawned over him, but quickly more concerned for the fact that he was actually someone who you’d have to interact with, and not just a piece of eye candy you could appreciate out and about. 

Hell, he was becoming family, and your stepfather no less. It was torturous. You did not need another person to worry about in your home. 

“So.. What’re you studying?” He crossed his left leg over the right, and asked you. His hand reached out to receive the glass of whiskey your mother poured him. He hadn’t been in your house for ten minutes and you already couldn’t stand his guts. Besides the fact that he was a cop, he had this air about him… what exactly, you weren’t quite sure. A superficial, macho exterior that felt like a bigger slap in the face than the fact that he was sitting on the nice, upholstered, expensive, armchair your father had paid for. 

Unsurprisingly, Agent Peña often indulged you in riveting conversation about the dangers of indulging in alcohol and drugs at a young age as he puffed on his cigarette, and lectured you, in what you knew as truly your mothers fashion, about how young people these days didn't know a thing, and that they must always respect and follow the lead of their elders. 

Much like mother dear, he paid little attention to you other than to reprimand you for whatever it was you weren’t doing correctly; for when you didn’t do the dishes on time, or were staying out too late, as if it was any of his business to even begin with. He seemed to really enjoy the protective dad role. It fit in well with the rest of his pathetic persona. 

No wonder they got along.

You remember almost gagging when he boasted about the college you were set to attend, one arm slung across your shoulder, at the party your aunt threw for your graduation. Like he had absolutely anything to do with it. You excused yourself partly to avoid the embarrassment and partly to roll your eyes. A small part of you enjoyed his proud boasting, but you were not ready to unpack that yet. 

In the time the couple weren’t circle jerking about their views, you were lucky enough to be the recipient of snide comments that were so obviously meant for your late father. To his credit Javier Peña didn’t involve himself in the conversation. You couldn’t say the same for a lot of your mother’s previous lovers. 

Since you were ten years old you had been making your own decisions, doing what you wanted and living on your terms. To return to your home for the summer after graduation, now 18, and have to abide by someone else’s meaningless regulations, was a rather harsh slap in the face. Not to mention this someone had been in your life all of two months, and really enjoyed acting like he knew anything about you, or your family. 

Sometimes, when you’d climb down the stairs of that quaint suburban home, the home that once belonged to your family, in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water or a snack, you’d see him sitting out on the porch, hunched over a whole bunch of shit you couldn’t bother caring about, with his ashtray dangerously close to all that flammable paper. 

His shirt stretched deliciously over his back, his hand reaching out to ash his cigarette every once in a while. You were glad he was infuriating, had he not been such a prick it might have revived the little bit of a crush you had on him. 

Sometimes you felt a little bit bad for rolling your eyes at him, or shutting down his attempts to initiate group plans. If you were being honest you were surprised when he didn’t blow up at you for talking back or being rude– that was when your mother wasn’t around. When she was, he didn’t have to. She would jump at any chance to start a fight. You were even more surprised when Javier tried to diffuse the situation. 

You figured soon enough that perhaps the Javier Peña you met a few months prior was putting quite the show on for his overbearing, obnoxious lover. Of course, you were sure he hardly saw her that way. He was perhaps a lot smarter than you gave him credit for. 

Javier often chided your mother when you spoke back to her, rather unexpectedly calling out her bad parenting and the behaviour she “modelled” for you when you were a child. You overheard them argue after a big blowout, from your room. It upset you that he was even getting involved. He tried to talk to you about it later, but that was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Obviously, you knew your hatred of them both had something to do with your psychologically deprived childhood, but it baffled you how neither of them, especially wannabe father of the year Javier Peña, didn’t realised your isolated anger would perhaps be diminished if they stopped trying to meddle in your life, the one neither of them seemed to care about unless something about it upset them. 

If he really cared about your wellbeing he’d take his wife and get the fuck out of your life. You were an adult, one that wasn’t going to listen to anyone, especially not the mother who packed you away all those years ago, and her hypocritical, infuriating husband. 

Thats why, despite having almost gotten caught and having your ass handed to you less than forty eight hours prior, you were back at the shack, drink in hand, stupidly forgetting exactly what had you scrambling to get out there in the first place. 

Who could have even blamed you? Your mother had been especially annoying that particular morning, and Javier and his buddies had colonised the house for a barbeque in the afternoon. In what even you recognised as somewhat juvenile rebelion, you decided the universe owed you some fun after having to endure their patronising, senseless chit chat all day. 

It wasn’t even that late, but you were already feeling it, the effects of the countless drinks you had downed over the course of the few hours you had been dancing at the bar. Nothing unusual in that, men often offered to buy you drinks, handsome ones at that, and you didn’t have the money to live extravagantly. Besides, if you weren’t going to use your charm what was it even there for? 

Was it Timmy? Tommy? You couldn't even recall his name by the time he was tossing you onto the counter in the bar’s bathroom. To be honest you couldn’t really figure out much of your surroundings, letting yourself get lost in the delicate, dizzy, tipsy haze as his hands slipped under your skirt to squeeze at your thighs. Your regular drunk hookup, or rather someone you disappointingly rolled around with till he finished and left you to roll your hips against your pillow wishing your hands were your Stepfather’s. 

His lips brushed your neck, sloppily planting kisses up and down your skin, nipping at your collar bones as he pushed himself between your legs. You closed your eyes and imagined he was Javier. The thought made you moan and you reached for his collar to pull him closer. He didn't smell like Javi, wasn't as big, his chest wasn’t as firm, his arms didn't envelop you like Javi’s did. 

You felt him swell against you, and you pushed against him, mind once again drifting to Javier standing at the grill in your backyard. His white linen shirt unbuttoned far too low, rolled up sleeves drawing your eyes to his forearms. He’d had a hand on his hip, a sliver of skin right above the band of his shorts just barely visible. 

He smiled at you, and you had worried he’d caught you staring. You revelled in the image. You recalled how he leaned against the edge of the pool with the afternoon sun beating down on his golden skin. You imagined his hands moving under your bra to squeeze your breast. 

You were rather embarrassingly enjoying the little montage of your stepdad that was playing in your head. You had almost forgotten it was tommy, or timmy rolling his hips against yours. If a loud, wall rattling thud hadn’t interrupted you, you would've enjoyed your little delusion even longer. 

To say you were startled was an understatement, you practically leaped right off the counter. Unable to really gather your bearings in time, you barely registered timmy, or tommy, scrambling to fix his shirt, you yourself rushing to cover up and fix the top of your dress. 

From the corner of your eye you caught a hand grab him by the shoulder and shove him towards the door, dragging him out of the bathroom and towards a building commotion outside. You heard people yelling, but couldn’t really make out what was going on. 

When you looked up and found Javier looking dead at you, instead of your little fling, you damn near collapsed. He looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack. In a second he was shutting the door behind him, and flicking the lock. You would’ve ran, but its not like you could go anywhere, besides, hed gotten a good look at your face gawking at him, like a fucking moron. 

It was over. 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” you hopped off the counter and tumbled into his chest.  He took you by the arm and dragged you right to the back of the bathroom, you struggled to remain on your feet but he didn’t really care. Much of your dizziness was thanks to your new found anxiety and had little to do with the vodka you’d been downing all night. This was definitely not an ideal situation. His grip on your arm tightened, and made you wince. You liked the sting, not so much the rest of the whole ordeal. “This where you’ve been fuckin’ going?” he seethed, coming close enough that your noses almost touched, he shook you lightly by the arm as he spoke. 

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he pulled you closer. “None of your fucking business.” Sure, you weren’t on your best behaviour, but did he really think he could boss you around? 

“Sure as hell’s my fucking business.” he took a look behind him, then turned back to you and leaned closer. “‘DEA agent’s step daughter dancing at illegal drug club’ sure gonna make a sweet headline.” His fingers dug into your flesh. Only then did it hit you why exactly he was in your dingy shack to begin with. You heard Timmy arguing with someone outside. You felt your palms become impossibly clammier. 

“Just fucking turn me in then, asshole.” you got closer, and you were sure he could smell the vodka off your breath. You wished that sounded as courageous and bold out loud as it did in your head. His eyes jumped to your lips, and he rolled them, huffing in frustration. You felt your own eyes burn, and your vision became blurry. You didn't want to cry in front of that bastard. You looked away. 

“To whom? Myself” his thumb smoothed over your skin, and his grip lightened. “Not gonna arrest you, fuckin’ idiot.” he rolled his eyes, then dropped your arm to put his hands on his hips. He looked down and sighed, massaging his temple and then glancing behind him again. 

“Riskin it all for that fuckin’ looser?” He let out a half hearted laugh, looking somehow both disappointed and smug. You wanted to punch him in the face. You would have, if he didnt happen to be the only thing between you and one dozen other narcs outside. 

He glanced at the ground for a second, then back at you and fixed the strap of your top that had slipped down your shoulder. “Get in the car.” he pointed behind you, and you looked in the direction to see a small, open window. 

“Know you're good at climbing outta windows.” you felt your cheeks heat so much they burned. Your heart hadn’t really recovered from his big, surprise entry yet. You couldn't stand to look at his frustrated, let down face. 

Javi cocked his head and raised his brows, whispering a strained “go”. You had no choice, you turned away from him and towards the window. 

—

“Where are we going?”

He didn't look away from the road ahead. Hand gripping the steering wheel with a renewed annoyance. “Better stop asking questions before s’ too late brat.” You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly shut it right back up again. You decided it was probably a lot smarter to just shut up and not bother him any longer– regardless of the thousand questions and worries you had swimming in your head. 

If you were lucky, he was going to drive the both of you right off a cliff, because if your mother caught any wind of what you had been doing, your plans for going to college, and living out of your house would fly right out the window. Not to mention the torture that would insue when she demanded to know your whereabouts all day everyday for the rest of the foreseeable future. 

“Don't want ya hangin’ round the countryside, in these barns, nothing good happens in there.” he looked over you momentarily, 

“Oh what? Are the cows joining in on the drug trade?” 

“Newspaper boys, going missin’. Found him in the lake, about two miles from here.” you pressed your lips together. 

The car ride thus passed in a painful, tense silence. Javier was clearly unhappy with the whole situation, but had decided not to immediately blow up in your face? Everything about that unsettled you. He was so shocked he seemed to be in denial. You'd much prefer if he just yelled at you and got it over with. 

What else was there to do? Surely he wasn’t going to turn you over to the cops, he had his chance to do that already. However Javier never missed a chance to reprimand you, maybe he wanted to get a few words in before ruining your future. 

You wouldn’t put it past him anyway. 

The empty streets gave way to a narrow, winding road that cut through the woods. The familiar landscape of your small town faded away, replaced by shadowy silhouettes of trees that loomed closer and closer to the edge of the road. The headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the dense foliage– closing in around you. The road twisted and turned, each bend bringing you deeper into the night, and further away from any civilisation. 

Beginning to zone out, you kept your eyes ahead, now unable to recognise left from right, and importantly, exactly how far out from town you had come.  It wasn’t long before the “farwell, drive safe” sign that stood at the edge of the woods was swiftly moving past your right shoulder. A pit was quick to form in your stomach, the lowered window by Javi’s side let the cool breeze in. It wrapped around you and made you shiver. The smell of the woods soon overcame you. 

Eventually,the car came to a stop in a small clearing. You watched Javi, but he paid no attention to you. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of branches swaying in the wind. In the distance, an owl hooted, its call echoed through the trees. You felt like a child about to be reprimanded after getting in trouble at school. You could hear the ticking of the cooling engine, each sound amplified in the stillness of the night. The dark woods pressed in on you. 

After what felt like an eternity, he opened his door, stepping out and gesturing for you to do the same with his head. Still absolutely clueless about what exactly he was doing, you decided just to follow along. He wasn’t going to actually kill you or anything. Probably just wanted to scare you. He had always thought he was a lot more scary than he actually was. At least that's what your brain was telling you. Your heart had other plans. 

You watched from inside as Javi began to cross in front of you, for a good three seconds he stood directly ahead of you, facing you in the beams of the headlights. The sight made you shiver. He took a step out of the light. Taking a long deep breath to psych yourself up, after a short moment you opened your door. Javi placed his arm on the top of said door, leaning against it to watch you get out. 

You almost tripped, but Javi caught you by the arm and manhandled you to the front of his truck. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, and when he turned you to face the hood it blinded you. 

The scrape of your shoes against the damp soil, the crunch of the leaves�� it was pretty much all you could really register. The moon shone bright, shining through the trees, but your eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness. “These woods are fucking haunted.” A bug landed on the side of your face and you jumped, shaking your head and swatting it away. Javier laughed behind you and you rolled your eyes. “Ghosts the least of your worries right now, bunny .” 

“Fuckin gross.” He shook you by the arm, his voice now a tad bit more annoyed than it was a little earlier. “Oh really?” He pushed you against the hood of his car, your back now facing it. You couldn’t see his eyes, any part of his face at all, you could barely see anything. You wondered how he moved so confidently in the dark. He must have practice. 

“I ain’t sneakin’ out to be a slut every night.” His hands moved to grab your waist and your heart jumped. You swallowed, feeling more defiant yet sceptical by the second. “Sorry you’re not getting any, but it's not my fault, dirty old man.” Before you could even gauge his reaction your head was snapping to the side, a sharp burn spreading across your cheek as Javier’s hand made contact with your skin. 

“I'm not getting any?” he laughed, then took your face between his fingers and squeezed your cheeks together. You winced, and your vision got blurry. You felt your panties dampen embarrassingly. “I ain't the one lettin’ stupid boys rub up on me, bunny.” He shook your face gently, voice so seething and cruel you whimpered, somehow more desperate for him than you were before. 

“Desperate little slut.” He grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, and promptly told you to “shut that whore mouth” when you screamed that he could fuck right off. His fingers left tender spots all over your arms and waist, and you winced when he manhandled you into bending over the hood of his car. 

He placed a hand on your back to press you down, the other held your waist in a death grip and you felt him press up against your ass. Your dress had ridden up, and surely left little to the imagination. The denim of his jeans rubbed against your upper thighs, and the tips of your shoes barely scraped the ground with how far up the hood of the car he had thrown you. You whimpered and he shushed you with a hand squeezing around your throat from behind. 

You knew you had to be unjustifiably wet by this point. You felt yourself throb when Javi put his hands under your dress and grabbed the waistband of your panties. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt his bulge through the fabric. 

The jingle of his belt sent a shiver down your spine, every hair on the back of your neck standing up at attention. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, still undecided about how exactly you felt about this entirely new development. 

Your heart jumped when he ran the leather across your skin, slowly, perhaps to catch you off guard when he finally struck you with it. You lurched forward, the pain so sharp a tear was quick to roll down your cheek. He struck you again, holding you down with his other hand. The sound of each slash, and your whines that followed echoed in the distance. 

“Think you’re fuckin cute, don’t you.” It was horribly embarrassing to be bent over the hood of his car, both palms on holding you up as best they could whilst he landed spank after spank on your bare ass. “Like bein a wild child?” Your scream echoed in the woods when his belt made sharp contact with your flesh. Your knees buckled but Javier's hand on your waist held you up before it was retreating to land another slap on your ass. Tears were dampening the neckline of your dress already, rolling down your neck and rendering you a bigger mess with every sharp spank of his belt. 

“Yeah? You get off on all those men touchin’ ya? Like being passed around like a cheap whore?” He gripped your hips so tight you didn’t even bother trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Should take ya to the office sometime, hand ya off to Steve, let him have some fun with you.”

You shook your head at that, there was only one man in the DEA offices you wanted, and unfortunately it wasn’t anybody that could actually be with. You clenched your thighs. 

“Knew you were a fuckin’ nasty little girl.” He wedged his hand between them, pushing them apart and slightly spreading your thighs. His fingers rubbed over your clothed cunt, your panties now damp from all that had ensued. You shivered, then pushed back against his digits. 

His fingers found your clit and you moaned. “Did ya cum?” he asked, referring to your little escapade at the bar. Suddenly, you were a whole lot less bold than you were a few moments ago, it wasn’t ideal to admit what you were going to, and it seemed almost impossible without sounding rather pathetic. 

He stopped moving his fingers and pinched the inside of your thigh. “Answer me.” You whispered a “no” bracing yourself for whatever embarrassing comment Javier was going to throw back at you in response. “Huh.. No one fucked this tight little snatch before? Savin’ yourself for me?” he ruminated on the thought, sounding far more pleased than you would have desired. He wasn’t exactly right, but he definitely wasn’t wrong either. 

When you remained quiet he leant beside your ear, lips ghosting the skin on your neck. “Hmm, that right? “Wish it was me instead of that stupid boy?” You groaned at his smug voice, then when his fingers slid under your panties and between your dripping folds. “Wished his finger’s were mine tonight, didnt you?” He cursed under his breath at how wet you were. “How many times d’you cum dreamin’ bout your stepdaddy fuckin your tight lil pussy…” 

“Haven’t” You pressed your face against the metal of his car, cheeks on fire at your admission. He remained silent behind you for a beat, then gently lifted you to press your back to his chest with a hand around your throat. He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss against your neck, and the hand that was between your legs slid under your dress to plam your tit through your bra. “Ever?” 

You gasped as he pulled it down, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You shook your head and pressed back against his hard cock. The buckle of his belt dug into your skin and you could almost feel the sting against your ass once again. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, hand returning between your legs. 

He rubbed your clit in slow circles and then pushed two fingers into your entrance. “Full of surprises, aren't ya?” you gasped at the stretch, his fingers were surely far bigger than your own, or any others that had been anywhere near your pussy.  “don't blame ya’ bunny , nothing like the real thing, huh?” 

You bit your lip harder to keep from moaning, already far closer to finishing than you had ever been before, especially when he stroked your walls, mercifully scissoring you open in an uncharacteristic show of thoughtfulness. 

“So fuckin’ wet, bunny .” he curled his digits, reaching that sweet spot inside you as he thumbed your clit. You pushed back against him, feeling yourself continue to gush around his hand. “Gonna slide right in at this rate.” 

He yanked your panties down with so much force you heard a few stitches rip in the silence. Javier groaned, and you leaned back against him when his hand moved away from your pussy to slide his hard cock between your thighs, his hips flush against yours. He squeezed your tit in his palm as he pulled back a little, sliding against your swollen cunt again. 

You felt your arousal smear against your thighs. He muttered a strained “Can’t wait much longer, bunny” . You, yourself thought you might have gone crazy if he waited longer. He pulled his hips back again, notching the head at your entrance and pushing in in a single, slow thrust. 

You winced and then moaned, body unable to adjust to the sheer size of him so quickly, yet still hungry for more. You hadn’t felt quite so full ever before, you could feel his cock deep inside you. Your hand covered his on your chest and you mewled and whimpered when he moved his hips, replicating the sharp thrust again, and then again. 

It wasn’t long before he was pushing you back down against the hood of his car to get a better grip on your hips. He twisted your wrist as you reached out for him, holding both in one large palm as he found a steady rhythm. The almost unbearable stretch slowly melted away into a delicious, burning need, and in only a few moments you were pressing back against him, pleading for him to pick up his pace. 

“You rub your pretty little cunt thinking ‘bout my cock splitting you open?” You moaned a “yes” every part of your body now hot with need as he kept fucking into your warm, wet, heat. 

“How?” When you didn't answer he landed a spank to your ass, this time with his hand, and right over the spot his belt had left its sting on not so long ago. You yelped and surged forward. His hand on your hip pulled you back. You pulled yourself up, craving the heat of his chest against your back. 

“On my- oooh” your palm landed over his, fingers wrapping around one of his larger ones as you cut yourself off with a moan “On my pillow.” The memory made you throb harder, and the hand that was holding Javiers guided it away from your hip and closer to the cut of your thigh, craving the feel of his fingers on your clit. 

He squeezed the flesh of your thigh and chuckled, hot breath fanning against your now sweaty skin. “Thought as much. My little slut. Knew I heard ya..” he took your earlobe between his teeth for a moment, nipped and then licked a stripe up your neck “tryna make yourself cum. Couldn't figure it out yourself huh?” 

You shook your head. “horny little girl, need me to do everything for ya.” You had indeed, countless times rather ashamedly. The thought that he’d possibly heard you long enough for it to be a problem, had likely fucked your mother at the thought, wishing it was you under him in her stead was a thought that would live in your head for all eternity. 

He kissed your cheek, then pushed you back down. “S’why ya keep spreading your legs for the whole world huh?” He put a palm on the middle of your back, holding you down as he continued to thrust inside you. “Chasin’ cock all day long.”

“Can’t help this whore cunt huh? So desperate to cum.” holding yourself up on your forarms you raised your head, turning back to get a look at him fucking into your desperate pussy. 

“Knew it the moment I fuckin’ saw you. Dumb slut got nothing to her name besides this sweet pussy. No one taught ya any manners, how to be a good little girl.” His thumb brushed over the cut of your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks. His index and middle fingers swiped your lips, and they instinctively parted to let him push them in. You sucked and drooled around his digits, doing little to contain your moans as he continued to fuck you from behind. The taste of your arousal sat heady on your tongue. “Always knew ya wanted it, stupid little slut.”

“Runnin that whore mouth all day like you're payin’ for the house.” his hips snapped towards yours, his cock buried deep inside you. “But it aint your house, bunny .” With the way your tits were pressing against the smooth metallic finish of his stupid pickup truck you were sure they were going to leave a mark. 

You released his fingers with a pop, and he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around, hurriedly tossing you onto the hood of his car till your feet were also planted firmly above the bumper. Before you could even register the movement he was slipping back inside you, you felt yourself pulse around his cock. You hoped and prayed no one was remotely near, your wailes and whines loud enough to travel far into the distance. 

“Get that in your fuckin’ head” He tapped his index gently against your temple and you nodded, frantically pleading yes after yes. You felt him throb inside you, each drag of his cock building the tension in your belly. You felt your pussy squeeze around him, and you wiggled your hips closer to chase the feeling. 

Your head turned side to side, your whole body buzzing at the heat between your legs. You don't think you’d ever felt anything like it. Sure, it felt good to touch yourself, but this, the feeling of his cock inside you, against your wet walls, it was entirely different. 

The tension only built in your hips, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you hurtled closer and closer to the edge. Your palms squeezed your breasts, seeking purchase on any part of your body. 

You lay your back down completely, watching the light hit him right in the face, falling against his features to create sharp lines of contrast. You’d take a good long look at him on top of you to save for later, but he was quickly pressing his lips to yours and your eyes fluttered shut. 

The weight of his body on top of yours was enough to make you cum on your own, but the feeling of his lips was what really did it. For how rough and quick he was splitting you open, his mouth moved gently against yours, his warm tongue parting your lips and gliding into your mouth. You moaned against him and he bit your lip, sensing how close you were. 

“Wanna see that face when you cum for me.”  his palm tilted your face upwards, and while the rest of his fingers continued to squeeze around your neck his thumb slipped between your parted lips. Instinctively, you closed your mouth around him, drooling and moaning around his thumb when he hit the sweet spot inside you over and over. Your pussy clenched around his cock and you tried to whimper his name. You felt another word bubble in your throat but you closed your lips around his digit to push it away. Your eyes fluttered shut at the intensity. 

“Cum for me, lil bunny” his words made you tumble over the edge, your cunt squeezing and gushing around his cock, your back arching off the hood of his car. His fingers squeezed around your neck, holding your face in place so he could get a good look at your eyes rolling back into your head. 

It was like a blackout, your ears rang so loud and your lips loosened around his thumb, going slack as you rode out your high. You felt him throb inside you at the sight. You felt the ache deep inside you, all the pleasure bursting in a single climactic second. Your lips fell slack around his fingers, whole body twitching at the sensation. 

Your climax set him off, and it wasn't long before he was burying himself inside your hot heat. His cock pulsed against your wet walls, painting your insides with his spend. He groaned and squeezed around your neck just a little harder. You sucked his thumb gently and heard him curse under his breath. You tried to keep your fluttering eyes on his face, watching intently as the aftershocks subsided and Javier's brows knit closer with his final few thrusts. 

After a few moments he stilled inside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled his thumb from your warm mouth to brush your bottom lip, then let his own lips take their place. You felt him pull out and you winced at the burn. He put both your legs up on his shoulders and leaned between your legs. 

You watched as his head disappeared between your legs to place a kiss to your inner thigh, and pull your panties back up your hips. You reached for him and he pulled you up to his chest. “Gotta clean up a lil bit, bunny..” he fixed your dress and lifted you off the hood and into his arms. “Ain’t nothing to worry about.” You already knew your painties were ruined for good with a red stain by that point. 

You rested your forearms on his shoulders, quite liking being held in his arms. “Knew you were always to much of a fucking perv to be a good cop.” He smacked your ass again for good measure and placed you on the ground. “You aint’ too much of a slut to fuck your stepdaddy aint it?” 

He stepped aside and you watched him do up his belt again, walking towards the driver's side of the car. You looked behind you and towards the expanse of the woods. The trees rustled, and you heard, presumably, the same owl hoot from the distance. A small crackle in the foliage had you swiftly walking to the passenger side and yanking open the door. You hopped inside and slammed it behind you. 

Javier was reaching in the glove box to stash away his gun. “Please” You swallowed, looking towards him. “Please just don’t tell her. She's going to have a freak out.”

Javi glanced at you momentarily, then murmured a dismissive “yeah yeah” as he started up the engine. That wasn't good enough for you. “Please, she’ll give me hell, I can’t deal with it.” You shook your head, then shifted in your seat. He muttered another “yeah”, checking his pockets for the keys to your front door. God forbid they slipped out while he was fucking your brains out. 

You turned towards him in your seat, both hands on the centre console. “Please.” Javier grabbed the keys, hooked them to his belt loop and dropped his head in a sigh. He turned towards you, taking a moment to reach over and buckle you into your seat. 

“‘Ain’t gonna tell, so stop askin’ before I change my mind.” He knew he didn’t need to ask you to keep your mouth shut– perhaps the most humiliating part of this all. 

“Okay.. yeah..”  The headlights flashed as you began your journey back home, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. You sank back, twisting in Javi’s direction, now curled up in the seat. His eyes remained on the road ahead. “Don’t do this shit again.” 

“Just wanted some adventure.” your voice grew thick, and you yawned. “Next time ya want adventure watch a fuckin’ hitchcock film or something.” He reached out a hand to cup your cheek, engulfed it and patted it gently. 

”Ain't always gonna be there to save your ass, bunny.” 

— 

PART II

In between

What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine

Love is so confusing there's no peace of mind

If I fear I'm losing you. it's just no good

You teasing like you do

Eeek! Hope you enjoyed!! I’m very excited for this series, and I hope you are too! Please let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who interacts with my work! Your comments and reblogs keep me writing 💗🐝

[nats--sw]

Orange Juice | Leah Williamson

Leah Williamson x reader Where Leah finds you again after a while and decides to help you out This is based on this request Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol addiction my masterlist

Football was incredible. Ever since you were a kid, kicking the ball around always made you happy. Your parents thought it was just a phase, that by the time you hit your teens, you'd move on to something else. But that never happened.You earned a scholarship in the US and you only returned to England after establishing yourself as a future star in the NWSL. You had a bright future there, but when Arsenal showed interest, you couldn’t say no to the club that made you fall in love with the game. 

By then, you’d already faced your first injury, you ruptured your ACL at 19. 

But that was already in the past, now you were in your new club. 

Leah was the same age as you when you joined the team, so you two clicked right away as the youngest on the team. Then, at 21, you both made your senior debuts for England, Leah as a defender and you as a forward. But shortly after that camp, you tore your hamstring, leaving you out again. 

And the thing with Leah… It wasn’t until you were 23 that, after months of innocent flirting and endless scenes of jealousy, you both finally admitted there was something more between you. It was one of the best moments of your life, you were playing great, Leah was playing great too, you’d just confessed how in love you were, and Arsenal was in the race for the league title. But then your body betrayed you again. 

It happened during a game against Aston Villa in 2021. You were subbed in after 63 minutes, and by the 70th minute, you had to be stretchered off after a bad fall from a collision with one of the players. 

“Y/n!” Leah rushed to see you after the game, her heart racing when she saw you crying in your cubby. “What happened?” she asked, a bit calmer when she noticed the ice bandage was on your ankle and not on your knee. 

“Just a sprain, but a bad one” you said, trying to hold back your tears. With the adrenaline now wearing off, the pain was really hitting you. “I’ll be out for at least six weeks”

“You’ll miss the rest of the season,” Leah blurted out. When she saw you hide your face with your shirt and start crying, she realized her mistake. “Love, I’m sorry” she said, kneeling beside you, trying to comfort you. “You’ll get through this, I promise,” she whispered, taking your hand and kissing it. 

You did get through it, but the following season brought another setback, a meniscus injury this time. 

“England striker, Y/n L/n, will undergo surgery and will miss the next  European Women's Championship.”

The reporter’s voice echoed in Leah’s head, she still remembered it clearly. It has crushed her, but it hurt even more seeing you on the hospital bed, turning your back on her.

Leah was set to captain the Lionesses while you were stuck on the sidelines, unable to play. It wasn’t her fault, but you couldn’t help feeling that pang of envy.

You thought you’d seen the worst of it, but when you watched Leah and the rest of your old teammates lift a trophy in a packed Wembley, it broke you. 

“Y/n! Where’d you go darling?!” Leah’s voice was ecstatic over the phone, with the sound of the girls celebrating in the background. “I tried to find you. You’ve got to come and celebrate with us!”

Leah had no idea you were already back at the house you two shared, the England shirt you wore during the match now lying on the bathroom floor. 

“I wasn’t feeling well” you replied, your voice tired.

“Huh? Is it your knee? Want me to bring something for the pain?”

You felt like a selfish jerk for resenting the person you were supposed to love, but you wouldn’t take away Leah’s moment. You knew she wouldn’t do that to you either. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry” you lied. “Just go enjoy yourself with the girls, you all deserve it.” you said, fighting back tears. But as soon as Leah said goodbye, you lost it. You cried all night and the next morning, watching them celebrate on tv. You were supposed to be there. You cried so much that your eyes were swollen, making it impossible to hide from Leah that you’d been crying. But, lucky for you (if that’s what you call it), Leah didn’t call you for two days, still celebrating. 

Her face was everywhere, on tv morning, noon and night. 

Then, Leah’s sudden fame messed with your relationship. It felt like you were drifting further apart. Interviews, radio shows, tv appearances, her Insta blowing up, it was all too much too fast. She didn’t have time to be with you during your recovery, and you weren’t up for a holiday in Ibiza with her and the rest of your teammates. 

The breaking point came during that time, while she was partying in Ibiza. You two had a huge argument when Leah found out you’d skipped your recovery session. Leah could argue for hours when she was convinced she was right, but with a hangover the size of Europe, your upset voice was the last thing she wanted to hear. 

“Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?!” Leah was yelling into the phone, while Keira sat nearby, clearly uncomfortable listening to the argument. 

“I just needed to stay home, away from everything and get some rest” you explained, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. 

“If you were going to skip the sessions, you could’ve at least come with me” Leah snapped, pacing back and forth. 

That really got under your skin. Leah wasn’t just upset about you missing the sessions, she was more annoyed that you turned her down. 

“I miss you,” Leah said, but even Keira could hear how empty that sounded.

Things had been off between you two since before the Euro camp even started.

“You miss partying with me, which isn’t the same,” you shot back. Leah had days off before the trip and could’ve spent time with you, but instead, she kept finding excuses to hang out with the girls.

“Are you seriously saying that?” Leah almost shouted. Keira’s eyes widened, thinking Leah must still be a bit drunk to be going off like this.

“You could be here if you missed me. You could’ve come to my sessions, which you know are a nightmare, but instead, you’re partying in Ibiza.”

“Fuck, Y/n. I just won the Euros! Of course I want to celebrate. If you knew how great it felt, you wouldn’t be saying this shit. It’s not my fault your stupid knee decided to mess up.”

That was the last straw for Keira, who quickly grabbed the phone from Leah’s hand.

“Y/n, Leah’s drunk. She doesn’t mean what she’s saying,” Keira said, giving Leah a stern look.

“Tell Leah to go fuck herself,” you snapped.

Leah took that to heart. Twitter was quick to pick up on the videos from that night, showing Leah getting pretty drunk. But what no one knew was that in one of the group chats with the girls, someone had shared a video where Alessia and Ella were laughing, it was silly, and in the background, Leah was dancing way too close with another girl. At first glance, it might not have been obvious, but you knew Leah well enough to recognize her, even in the dark.

When Leah came home from Ibiza, your stuff was gone.

The next season was awkward. Everyone on the team knew there’d been some drama, but they didn’t know the details. It was clear that you and Leah had been together for ages, then suddenly broken up after Ibiza. And some of them knew you had renewed your contract for just one more year.

One day, Lia joined you for lunch, ignoring Leah. “You know she didn’t cheat on me, right?” you said, trying to set the record straight.

There’d been rumors flying around that Leah had cheated, but that wasn’t true. After seeing that video, you confronted Leah when she called asking why you weren’t home. She’d sworn on her mother’s life that even though she’d been with that woman all night, nothing more than a few dances had happened. Leah wasn’t a good liar, so you believed her.

“Yeah,” Lia said, “but Keira spilled some stuff, so I know Leah was kind of an idiot with you.”

“I feel like I messed up everyone’s holiday,” you said with a sigh. You hadn’t talked much to the other girls either, and they’d picked up on your indifference to their Euro win.

“It’s not always easy to celebrate someone else’s big moment,” Lia said, taking another bite.

The next season didn’t get any better for you. Your performance was tanking because of how you were feeling, both physically and mentally, so Leah wasn’t shocked to see your name missing from the England squad list again. 

Leah had already missed the World Cup due to her ACL injury, and while she was in Australia, watching from the stands as her teammates made it to the final, she finally got a taste of how tough it was for you during the Euros. And it hit her, she realized it was probably even harder for you. She was a defender, but you were a striker, the star everyone was watching, the one who scored all the goals. When you got sidelined, replaced by the season’s top scorer and other younger players, it was like you’d been forgotten overnight. That hit hard.

You both messed up, that was clear. Leah knew she could have handled things better, and she was determined to make it right as soon as she got back to England. But fixing things wasn’t going to be easy.

Leah was hanging out with the team, getting ready for the pre-season meeting, when she noticed something odd. You weren’t there, and Jonas had this sad look on his face. Just as she was about to ask where you were, you walked in with crutches and wearing a knee brace. 

“Morning,” you said as you made your way to the center of the room, with Jonas helping you along.

Leah did a double take. You were in sportswear, but not in the Arsenal kit.

“I don’t know if you all heard, but a few weeks ago I blew up my knee,” you said, glancing at Leah with a sad smile. 

Leah’s heart dropped. That meant you’d torn your ACL and meniscus again, plus your MCL.

“And I’d made it clear that I’d only renewed for one more season... last season. So...” you said, taking a deep breath and avoiding eye contact with Leah. “I’m retiring, I mean, professionally… from football. I won’t be renewing.” You fought back tears, quickly wiping your cheeks with your jersey sleeve. “I just came to say goodbye.”

Leah stayed in her chair while the other girls got up to give you hugs and say their goodbyes. Kim and Jonas noticed what was going on and told everyone to give you and Leah some space.

“How bad is it?” Leah asked, still sitting, arms crossed, eyes locked on your knee brace. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard about this sooner. She was clearly shocked.

“Well, it’s the second time I’ve messed up this knee,” you said, sinking into a chair a little away from Leah. “The doctor says I’ll never get back to even 60% of my old self. I don’t want to play if I can’t give it my all.”

“You can still do it,” Leah said, her voice firm.

“No, I can’t. My record’s already bad. What club’s gonna want a player who’s always at risk of injury?” you said, rolling your eyes.

“We’ll pay,” Leah insisted.

“You’re not the club,” you replied with a sarcastic smile. “They offered me one more season, but they’ll cut my salary. And I don’t want to be a burden, not anymore.”

“Y/n, an injury doesn’t mean your career’s over,” Leah said, raising her voice a bit. “You just need to get through this and move on. Just like last time.”

“It’s not that simple,” you snapped, annoyed that Leah wasn’t getting it. “Do you really think I can compete with Alessia or Stina? I can barely score more than one goal a month, I can't even run like before, Leah. And that’s my job!”

“But-”

“No!” you cut her off, dropping your crutches in anger. “Just leave me alone. If I want to retire now, that’s my choice. I’m not you!” You cried harder. “Nobody misses me on the team! I’m not you!” 

Leah bit her lip, struggling to hold back her tears.

“I do miss you,” she admitted, wishing she could find the guts to stand up, walk over, and kiss you to show how she felt. But ironically, the fear of losing you forever left her feeling paralyzed.

“I can’t do this,” you said, struggling to stand up. “If you start talking about us, I’ll take back my decision, and I don’t want that. Good luck,” you said, wiping away your tears as you left the room.

That was the last Leah saw of you. Your retirement was lowkey, just an announcement and a few social media posts. Leah found out later that you’d gone back to the States as if you’d never been there at all.

You ended up in the US on a whim, just wanting to forget Leah, Arsenal, England, and football. That had been two years ago. No one knew where you were or cared that you were spending everyday drunk in some bar. 

You were okay with that. 

If it weren’t for a family matter, you’d still be hiding out there.

Your plan was simple: wrap up your stuff, grab some cash to continue your drinking habits of shitty american beer, and then return. But as soon as you landed, you hit the first bar you saw and pretty much stayed there.

It wasn't uncommon for former (failed) footballers to turn into addicts, and you were no different. Although you had attempted to quit drinking a year ago, when your money was running out, but without any support system in the US you couldn’t stay sober for more than a month before heading back to that familiar bar.

You were so drunk you didn’t even worry about running into anyone you knew now back in London. The only detail you vaguely recalled, though you were unsure of its significance, was avoiding blonde women. But you didn’t think twice about the men.

“Jacob,” Leah said, still in shock. She’d been sleeping when her brother called, saying he was sure he’d seen you drinking heavily in a bar he’d just arrived at with his friends.

“Glad you’re here,” Jacob said, guiding her to where you were. “She didn’t see me, I wasn’t sure how she’d react, so I wanted to wait until you got here.” He glanced at you as he spoke.

Leah’s heart sank when she saw you. It was definitely you, but you looked totally different, completely out of it and about to pass out on the bar.

“I’ll take her home,” Leah said quietly, making her way towards you. “Y/n,” she called softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. When you didn’t respond, Leah shook you gently and called your name again. “Y/n.”

You barely opened your eyes, but you recognized her immediately. “Lee,” you mumbled, and tears started rolling down your cheeks, though you didn’t really know why.

It wasn’t the first time you’d cried while being drunk, and it wasn’t the first time you’d cried for Leah while being drunk either.

“Hey,” Leah said, gently wiping the tears from your face with her thumbs. She didn’t remove her hands, as you were barely able to hold your head up. “Let me help you.”

Leah signaled to Jacob with a nod to help lift you from the other side. As they carried you to the car, Leah couldn’t wrap her head around what was going on. She’d never seen you this drunk before, not even when you used to drink occasionally during your time together.

With Jacob’s help, Leah got you into the back seat of the car and drove quickly to her home, which had also been yours a few years back.

Leah was totally stuck on what to do now. If it were up to her, she’d have tossed you in a hot bath to get rid of the alcohol smell, but she didn’t want to risk you passing out in the tub.

So, she just put you in the guest room. She placed a towel on your pillow, took off your jacket and shoes, and got you settled in bed. She also left a glass of water and some painkillers for when you woke up.

Next morning, when Leah woke up, the first thing she did was check on you, but she was surprised to find the room empty. The water and pills were still there, She freaked out a little, she couldn’t let you slip away again, not this time. She rushed downstairs and, while searching for her car keys, she noticed the kitchen was a mess. All the cupboard doors were open, and there was broken glass on the floor. Then she saw that the door to the backyard was wide open.

Trying to be quiet, she headed outside and found you sitting on the small terrace you’d set up years ago, holding a bottle of wine with your eyes shut.

“I’m awake,” you mumbled without bothering to open your eyes when you heard the door.

“It’s… 9 am” Leah said, pulling out her phone, her voice tinged with worry. “Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?”

“It’s for the hangover,” you replied, taking a swig straight from the bottle. Leah looked around, noticing there was no glass or cup in sight. “Sorry, the glass broke when I grabbed it”

Leah stood there with her hands on her hips, looking worried. She had no idea where to start.

“Do you even remember how you ended up here?” Leah asked, stepping closer. She noticed you were shivering, probably from the morning chill. Without hesitation, she took off her hoodie and draped it over your shoulders, relieved when you didn’t push her away.

“Ah… I don’t really remember,” you said, trying to force a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” Leah asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

You shrugged and took another swig from the bottle. Leah was taken aback by how sober you looked despite the drinking. It seemed your tolerance was crazy high.

“Why did you leave?” Leah asked, gently placing her hand on your knee. At the touch, you jumped up, but the dizziness hit you hard, almost making you fall over. Leah quickly helped you back into your seat. “I won’t touch you again,” she said, holding up both hands as if to show she meant no harm. “I’m just asking you not to run away.”

You stared at Leah for a few seconds, noticing her glazed eyes and the slight tremble in her lower lip. You wanted to get out of there and avoid the whole sad scene, but you knew you wouldn’t get far and you didn’t even have any money left.

“I don’t want to answer any questions,” you muttered, staring at the ground.

“I need to ask a few things,” Leah said, almost reaching out to take your hand but stopping herself just in time. “I haven’t seen you in two years. Haven’t heard a thing from you.”

“That was the point. You had enough going on with your stuff. I didn’t want to add to it,” you said, trying to avoid her eyes.

“Damn it, Y/n, I never stopped caring about you. Not when we broke up, and not when you disappeared,” Leah said, quickly wiping away a tear. “Yeah, we messed up, but we could have fixed things back then, and we still can-”

“No, Leah.”

“Yes, we can-”

“Don’t say that. I’m not sober enough to deal with this,” you said, feeling frustration creeping in.

“Then go take a shower, and we’ll talk,” Leah said, her frustration matching yours. Why did you have to be so stubborn all the time?

“I’m not sober,” you repeated, stressing each word and holding her gaze, hoping she’d get it.

Leah swallowed hard, taking in the mess you were. Your hands were still shaking, and even though she thought your pale skin might just be from the morning, your flushed cheeks and the redness on your nose told a different story. The dark circles under your eyes were deep, making you look worse than she’d imagined.

Leah always thought she was the heavy drinker between the two of you. Her cabinet was stocked with all kinds of alcohol, and she’d always found it odd how you’d cringe whenever she brought home a new bottle. She remembered you mentioning a relative with addiction problems back when you weren’t even together, but she never thought it would hit you too.

“Have you… have you tried to quit?” Leah asked, her voice cracking as she grasped the seriousness of the situation. You nodded slowly, looking down, clearly embarrassed. “Could you try again?” she asked.

This time, you shook your head. “I can’t.”

“I can help you,” Leah said, determined.

“I don’t want your help,” you said frustrated, trying to get up again but failing.

“Y/n, look at yourself,” Leah said, exasperated. “You can’t even stand. Please, let me help you.”

You reluctantly agreed to let her help, mostly to get her to stop pushing. You figured that if you said yes and she saw how messed up you were, she’d leave you alone. What you didn’t remember was how stubborn Leah could be when she was set on something.

Leah couldn’t believe she actually managed to get you to go to rehab, but it seemed like it was working after a while. According to the doctor, you were doing great, really putting in the effort in your sessions and activities. So, it didn’t take long for you to get the green light for a day out, and of course, Leah was the one you’d spend it with.

“Good morning,” Leah said softly when she saw you. It was wild how you were starting to look more like yourself again.

“Morning,” you replied. It was weird to think that just a few months ago you were alone in the States, drinking day and night. And now Leah was here, smiling at you again. It was something you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Leah said when you two were in her car. “I checked with the doctor because it might be a... sensitive topic for you.” Instantly, your heart raced in panic. Leah noticed your breathing quicken and gently placed her hand on your knee while steering with the other. You placed your hand over hers, and she didn’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers. “Just relax,” she said. “I think you’ll like it. And if I’m wrong, just let me know, and we’ll forget about it. No big deal.” She stopped at a red light, bringing your hand to her lips and giving it a gentle kiss.

It was something that had always helped you chill out. Even though you weren’t together anymore (not physically, at least. Both of you knew those feelings were still there, just waiting for the right time), it still felt good.

When Leah parked the car and you looked out the window, your heart raced again. You were right in front of a football pitch. Leah knew how much your struggles with the end of your career were a trigger for your addiction, so being here wasn’t exactly ideal.

“Leah, I don’t think-”

“Shh,” she said, gently taking your hand to help you out of the car. “Just give it a few minutes, okay? If it’s too much, we’ll head back.” She cupped your face, locking eyes with you.

You nodded, holding her hand tightly. Leah didn’t say anything, but she could feel the tension in your grip.

You walked together to the middle of the field. It wasn’t as big as the one you used to play on, but seeing it made you smile a bit, remembering the good times you had there with Leah.

“I should’ve been more supportive, you know,” Leah said as you both settled on the grass, still damp from the morning dew. “After my injury and the World Cup, I finally realized how lonely you must’ve felt. Part of it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you replied. “You didn’t owe me anything.”

“You were my girlfriend. I should’ve been there for you, giving you the support you needed,” Leah said, her tears starting to fall. You hated seeing her cry; it always made you feel awful.

“I was tough to deal with too. I didn’t make it easy for you,” you admitted, resting your head on Leah’s shoulder.  She turned and kissed your forehead without hesitation.

“Do you think we can get through this?” She whispered.

“I think we’re on the right track.”

Leah nodded and after a few minutes of silence, she stood up. “Don’t move,” she said, running back to the car. She came back with a mini football, the kind you can hold in one hand. “Wanna play?” she asked with a small, hopeful smile.

You laughed, shaking your head, but took her hand to stand up. The feel of the ball in your hands was weird but you couldn’t say no to Leah.

“Let’s warm up before my friends get here,” she said with a smirk. You didn’t get what she meant at first, but the excitement of kicking a ball again had you too pumped to question it.

Leah’s friends turned out to be a bunch of 12 year olds who had joined her every week to play football together. There were about seven girls, with the oldest being 13. She was the one who kept glancing at you the whole time.

“Excuse me,” the oldest girl said as they were about to leave after the game ended. “You’re Y/n L/n, right?” she asked, eyes locked on you.

“Jackie!” Leah hurried over and tried to cover the girl’s mouth. “What did I say about the questions?”

Leah kept talking to the girl, but you couldn’t catch what she was saying. Jackie was 13 now, but she was only 11 when you retired, and probably no older than 7 when you were at your peak. It touched you that she recognized you.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said, holding Leah’s hand for support. “What’s up?”

“Your hair is longer and darker now,” Jackie said, eyeing you closely. “And your face is a bit different, but I remember when you kicked that penalty into the goal. I saw it in person!”

“Jackie,” Leah said again, but you pulled on her arm.

“Do you really remember?” you asked.

“I do! I saw you play. My sister took me to that game. Even though Arsenal lost, your penalty was the best.” Jackie said, her eyes shining.

Leah watched silently, a big smile on her face as she saw you light up with that familiar spark you’d lost over the years. She let you have a moment with Jackie, impressed by how you were reconnecting with your past. It made her even more certain about the idea she’d been planning to share with you.

The next weekend, you both were back out on the field with the girls. You spent some time teaching Jackie a few tricks. Your stamina wasn’t what it used to be, so Leah gave you a break. 

“I wish I had the energy of a 12 year old,” Leah said, flopping down next to you on the grass and handing you a bottle of water, but you shook your head.

“I’m good,” you said, pulling out a bottle of orange juice from your bag. Leah looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“But you don’t like orange juice,” she said, wrinkling her nose as you popped the cap and the citrus scent hit the air.

“You don’t like it,” you said with a grin. “I never hated it.”

“You never bought it when we lived together,” Leah pointed out.

“That’s because you didn’t like kissing me with juice on my lips,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at her. “You were always so picky, even with that.”

Leah shook her head, remembering how she’d pull away in the middle of a kiss if she tasted something like orange juice on your lips.

“I’ve been drinking a lot of orange juice lately because plain water gets boring,” you said, putting the bottle away and sitting up straight. You glanced at Leah, who seemed like she wanted to say something.

"Your doctor mentioned you're about to be discharged," Leah said, glancing at you with a curious look.

"Yeah," you replied, a bit embarrassed. "I wanted to talk to you about that too." Leah raised an eyebrow, curious. "I don't have anywhere to stay, and my family's all moved away from London. And I need to keep up with the weekly therapy."

"You can stay with me," Leah said before you could even ask. 

"Thank you," you said with a relieved smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

"Can I confess something?" Leah asked, fiddling with the bottle in her hands.

"Sure."

"I'm afraid you'll leave again," she admitted, biting her lip. "You have no reason to stay, and I don’t want you to be alone again," she added, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers. "That’s why I've been thinking about something..."

You felt a bit panicked, knowing what Leah could be thinking.

"I’m not going to play again-" you started, but Leah cut you off.

"I know, honey," she said, stroking your hand with her thumb. "But I've been thinking...these girls need someone to teach them," she said, nodding toward the group of girls who were too busy fighting over the ball to rest.

"No, Leah-"

"Shh, let me finish," Leah said with a laugh. "It won’t be professional. It'll start as an amateur academy. We just need to build a dressing room, add a few more seats, and recruit some more girls."

"Leah, I'm not a coach," you said, shaking your head. "And running an academy, even an amateur one, costs money."

"I’ve got the money," she assured you. "I'm already talking to some local sponsors. And you’re great with the girls, you’ve got experience, and it’ll keep you busy doing something you still care about, even if you won’t admit it right now."

"I don’t know..."

"Just give it a shot," Leah said, bringing your hand to her lips and giving it a gentle kiss. "If you don’t like it, we’ll figure out something else."

You took a deep breath, feeling unsure but finally nodded. "Alright, I'll give it a try."

Leah was feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. After all the hard work, the tough times, and a few relapses along the way, today might be the day you could finally move back to her place. But she’d spent the night taking away every trace of alcohol from the house. Pouring out all those liquor bottles, which had cost her a fortune, felt a bit like a sacrifice, but knowing she was doing it for you made it almost satisfying. She’d also packed up all the wine glasses and stashed them in the attic, figuring they’d be better off out of sight for a while. 

She’d gone a bit overboard with the shopping too, piles of chocolate, different coffee flavors, and gallons of orange juice to cover any cravings you might have. And she’d moved her medals, trophies, and awards into her bedroom. She figured it would be better to ease you back into things slowly, rather than hitting you with the full weight of her football career all at once. 

“Good morning,” Leah said as soon as she saw you dragging your suitcase in.

You greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, and she offered to put your suitcase in the car while you settled into the passenger seat.

“I’m really nervous,” you admitted, shifting uncomfortably in the seat.

Leah didn’t say much, just reached out her hand. You took it without hesitation, intertwining your fingers with hers for comfort.

“I think it’s best if we skip the game with the girls today,” Leah suggested, seeing you nod in agreement. “Alright then, let’s go home.”

The drive to the house was quiet, neither of you saying a word. Leah held your hand the whole time, even after you two stepped inside.

"I got the guest room ready for you," Leah said, setting your suitcase on the floor.

"Will you come with me?" you asked. Leah nodded immediately, following you to the room. She smiled as you flopped onto the bed. "God, I missed sleeping in a good bed," you said, then looked at Leah, who was leaning against the door frame. "Come here," you said, patting the bed.

Leah kicked off her shoes and lay down next to you. She was a little surprised when you rested your head on her chest, but her hand instinctively went to your hair, stroking it gently. Throughout your rehab, you had been close, but Leah always worried about moving too fast, unsure about what the future held for both of you.

"You've changed a lot," you murmured, closing your eyes and smiling at the scent of Leah's shirt. "I like this side of you."

"What side?" Leah whispered.

"The side that takes care of me. I like you taking care of me."

Leah bit her lip, feeling it tremble a little. "I should have taken better care of you before. Maybe then you wouldn't have left."

"I didn't give you the chance. I didn't want to hear from you."

You both stayed silent for a few minutes, Leah holding you tighter.

"And now? Will you give me a chance to take care of you?"

"I’m doing that already," you said, lifting yourself up a little to look at her. "Thank you for not letting me leave again." You gave her a soft, short kiss on the lips.

Leah didn't ask for more, didn't move her hands or deepen the kiss. That small contact was enough for her. Trying again would be a slow process, and she didn't want to go back to what you had before. She wanted to start fresh, avoiding the mistakes of the past.

After almost two months, things were looking up. 

When you woke up, Leah wasn't in bed. You weren’t sharing a room yet, but she spent most nights with you, and last night had been one of those.

After showering, you headed to the kitchen and found Leah putting things away in the fridge. 

"Morning," you said, startling her. She quickly shut the fridge door and looked at you with wide eyes. "Everything okay?" you asked, walking towards her curiously.

"Uh, yeah, everything's fine," she said, taking a step back and letting out a curse as she bumped into the fridge.

"What are you hiding?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.

"N-nothing," she said, trying to squirm out of the situation, but you were quicker. You cornered her against the fridge. "Shouldn’t you be going? It's your first day of training with the girls," she reminded you.

"I can’t leave without my good morning kiss," you said, watching her features soften a little.

"I haven’t brushed my teeth," she lied, standing on her tiptoes to keep you from kissing her. She was definitely hiding something.

For a moment, you thought it might be something with alcohol. You'd noticed that all the alcohol in the house was gone, even the liquor filled candy Leah used to eat. But it was early in the morning, and Leah wouldn't be drinking anything with alcohol at that time. You trusted her, she was fully committed to your recovery. On the rare occasions she had a drink, she’d brush her teeth multiple times before kissing you. 

Leah thought she'd kept it a secret, but you'd caught her almost drinking the extra mint mouthwash.

So, it was highly unlikely that was the reason she didn’t want to kiss you.

"I'll be mad if you don't kiss me," you said, playing your last card.

Leah rolled her eyes but leaned in, brushing her nose against yours before giving you a short kiss. When she felt your tongue graze her lip, she knew she was caught.

"Leah!" you exclaimed, patting her shoulder. "You were drinking my orange juice!"

"I was thirsty," Leah laughed. "I'll grab some more juice for you, I promise," she said, wrapping her arms around your waist. She tried to kiss you again, but you turned your face away, causing her lips to land on your cheek. "Hey, there's no more juice left. Your only chance to have some is kissing me," she said, still holding your waist.

"I hate you," you said, shaking your head before finally kissing her. "You're not supposed to like that juice."

"I think I got so used to tasting it when I kiss you that I've started to like it," Leah said with a grin.

"Did you really drink all my juice?" you asked, almost sadly, resting your head on Leah's shoulder.

"Of course not, love," she said, stroking your back. "I think I bought all the orange juice in London. I can't have my girl without her daily glass of juice."

"Thank you," you murmured, kissing her again.

"I should say that," Leah whispered back.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 19: Four Seasons Landscaping

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: dubcon; noncon; tentacles; cumflation; plant-fucking; creampie;

A/N: Apologies if this one feels rushed. It is. Today's been remarkably busy for a Sunday so I bashed this one out quick. I left the CWs on for dubcon and noncon because fem!reader isn't into it at first, even if she gets into it pretty fast. Read at your own discretion, but this is much nicer than yesterday's

####################################

Another day, another job. You checked your docket, this sure was the address. You sighed heavily, was this another case of them giving the only woman at the firm the shitty job again, or did someone seriously see the half acre of bramble and overgrown hedges and call it "light weeding"

You may never know

First off was the perimeter hedge, where it overhung the street. Your trimmers made short work of the overhang, even if you did need the long ladder to get to the top of them. Whoever owned this plot really liked their privacy to have planted ten-foot hedges around the entire property line. You weren't sure how the neighbours felt about it, but you're only being paid for the street-side so you couldn't care less.

At least the pavement was clear now, and working inside such a private plot really limits how much randos from the street can catcall you. That's one plus, at least.

The docket specified no weedkillers, so you can't just put on a rubber suit and salt the earth with glyphosate and a cocktail of other chemicals adorned with fun-looking warning triangles. You pulled on your overalls and stocked your toolbelt with an array of trowels, secateurs, shears, forks, strimmer wire, a trusty multitool, and a pair of heavier gloves, just in case. Armed with the tools of your profession, girded in denim dungarees, safety specs, and ear defenders, you started your mechanised assault on the wilderness.

You cut your path into the tangle of weeds and vines. Foliage piled high upon itself on wither side of you as you hacked inwards. You wondered if a machete would be a better tool when you remembered: you actually have one in the van! You'd been given it as a joke when you started, but a quirk of the law let you keep it around so it lived in a cubby in the centre console. You turned to make your way back.

Your path had closed behind you. The piles of plant matter leaning on each other and blocking your way. You shrugged and revved your strimmer. Cutting out should be as easy as cutting in.

In theory.

As soon as the wire hit the brambles, it snarled up. You heard the engine struggle, then stall entirely. Damn. You couldn't pull the machine free. The secateurs came out, and you leant down to cut it out.

Big mistake.

You hadn't noticed the vines that had wrapped themselves around your ankles when you turned, and tripped, falling into a bank of thorny vines. You felt the brambles piercing your gloves and long sleeves. Your hands wouldn't pull free. Your legs were rooted to the ground. You struggled against your bonds, thorns biting deeper with every movement.

You start to panic.

Plants don't act like this.

Plants don't do this.

You felt the briars start to pull at your ankles. Plant's definitely don't do this. You called out as you watched the entrance recede from you as you were hauled over the cutting barbs, deeper into the tangle.

Nobody came.

The vines were pulling you on, you could tell you were going downhill, though the plot should be level. A sinkhole perhaps? It didn't matter, down you went. You craned your neck to look behind you. Trying to get a glimpse of where you were going. That's when you saw it.

A flower. Huge and angry pink. You were going straight towards it.

You felt the petals close around your waist. Your hands were free now, but you couldn't wriggle them between your flesh and the opening of the plant. Each ankle was being pulled a different direction, holding you spreadeagled within the plant. You felt something strange within the flower, like your clothes being moved around on you. Something was... rubbing your legs? For some reason your skin felt wet

Wait

Those overalls were waxed. Waterproof. Nothing should be getting on your skin unless... Oh shit.

Your clothes are being digested. The plant must be carnivorous, which made sense, why else would it have vines that drag you into it? It didn't hurt though, which was strange. Whatever the plant was using to so rapidly eat away at your clothing didn't seem to damage your skin, or even sting when it hit the scratches the vines were still leaving on you.

Something pushed up what was left of your trouser leg, tearing the weakened material away from you, leaving you almost completely bare inside the bell of the plant. Next came your underwear, the thin cotton didn't offer any resistance to the digestive juices daubed on it. Now those same tendrils were painting your bare crotch. You felt your cheeks flush with arousal, this plant felt pretty good. The tendrils kept going, lubricating you and running between the lips of your cunt, as though a lover tenderly licking you up and down.

Every stroke caught your clit, your hole, your ass, first one way, then the other. Your breathing was getting heavier as the rubbing edged you closer and closer. Your hands strayed to your tits, cupping and squeezing as you rolled your head back, delighting in the sensations until you reached your peak, crying out as your release simmered over you.

Another tendril was pressing against you now. This one was moving with more purpose, pressing against your pussy until it entered your well-lubricated hole. You whined as it filled you, anticipating another orgasm as it started to thrust in and out, worming around and stretching you out. The insistent thrusting and continued attentions on your clit drove you to another screaming finish before you felt a hot, thick liquid filling you up. More and more it pumped into you, your womb ached with the amount and you could feel your belly bloating, growing large and round with the sheer volume of the stuff.

As quickly as it began, it pulled away. The vines loosened from your ankles and the flower released you, leaving you to cut away the last tangled pieces of vine from you and start the slow climb out, leaking a thick golden sap from your cunt as you dragged yourself uphill.

It took you over an hour to get back up to your strimmer, which you cut out and dragged behind you as you wobbled back into the van. By some miracle, your toolbelt was still largely unharmed, and everything that was on it before was still there. Along with, tucked into one of the thick, heavy-duty gloves, the end of a vine.

You're no botanist, but you know how to propagate a plant.

[bvbygrl-writes]

Season of The Witch (1)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: I recently watched the Twilight Saga for the first time and fell in love with it but I noticed there's not a lot of recent fics so I decided to make them! This doesn't follow the twilight series exactly but the elements and settings are still the same. Everyone is aged up (I mean does Edward really need to be tbf). If this gets enough feedback in my inbox and comments I will continue but this is mainly a tester to see how it does!

Warnings: N/A but it will be 18+ at some point most likely. Minors and blanks dni.

Everyone always talks about how hard it is moving in the middle of the school year. But, what they never talk about is how hard it is to move once you’ve just graduated. Friend groups are already established and due to college, no one is looking to meet anyone new until they’re off to whichever university they’ve decided to attend.

You, however, weren’t off to university. You knew it wasn’t right from you. Your parents supported your decision. In fact, they were thrilled…but not for the reasons you originally thought. Your dad wanted to move back to his home town of Forks, Washington and your mom, being a lover of nature, thought it was the perfect change of scenery. According to the conversation they had with you, it wasn’t a spur of the moment decision either. Your dad had gotten a job as head surgeon and your mom had bought a space to turn into the bakery she had dreamed of owning for years. It was something they had been wanting to do for years but due to the fact you were doing so well in school, they hadn’t wanted to rip you away from that. 

Part of you, the part of you that didn’t want to admit it to yourself, wish that they had. Maybe then you’d have a better chance at your 20s not being so lonely in a town that so far on the drive from the airport, seemed to be desolate and void of any youth. But, it wasn’t all bad. With all the greenery and nature, you’d be able to focus on growing your powers more.

You came from a long lineage filled with powerful and strong witches, your mother being one of them. On your thirteenth birthday, your powers finally presented themselves and everything began to make sense for you. You had always felt different from your peers and having the confirmation that you were healed something in you. Your mom had been mentoring you and through her, you had learned so much over the years. As your eyes gazed out the rain littered car window, focusing on the ocean of trees that passed in a blur, one thing she had said stuck out to you the most. ‘A witch is at her strongest when surrounded by nature’. 

Every weekend, she used to drive 6 hours there and back to a small patch of woods outside of the city. But now, you had access to the forest in any direction you looked.

“I’m thinking of starting a garden in the yard, (Y/n/n), what do ya think?” your mom asked, causing your head to turn in her direction. Her body was turned back to face you, the small wrinkles near her mouth creasing as she grinned. She always had an air of vibrancy and brightness to her that made you question if you were even related sometimes. It was like you could practically feel her emotions buzzing off of her and piercing into your heart. You hummed mulling over your response, turning your attention back to your window, watching as the trees slowly began to turn into homes the further you drove into town.

“Sounds good.” you responded. Your limited word choice was something you had gotten from your father. He wasn’t as introverted as you were, but he only spoke when he found the conversation particularly interesting. And when it came to his wife, he found everything interesting.

“I think that’s a great idea, honey! There’s a lot of space at the house and I know if anyone can make it magical, it’s you.” You watched in the rear view mirror as his eyes flickered towards your mom, full of admiration. Your mom giggled at his small joke, shoving his shoulder in a playful manner. “Maybe in the spring, you could get some fruit growing, use it in your bakery.”

“Why wait till spring? I could do it now with the flick of a finger.” she mused, holding out her palm. Golden sparks hovered above it, swirling in a circular motion. Your dad smiled at her, shaking his head as he pulled into a driveway which you assumed was your new home. Sticking your head out the window, you looked up at it in awe.

In the city, your house was a lot smaller. Lots of identical homes sandwiched far too close together for your liking. But this house, it had character. Faded green framework, a bay window, and a semi wrap-around porch. You noticed a window on the second story, a small balcony attached to it. In your mind you had already claimed it. The slamming of the van door broke you out of your brewing daydream. Looking on the lawn, you internally groaned as you saw people. Just what you wanted to see after a 7 hour car ride. Before you could duck down and pretend you couldn’t exist, your dad turned his head, shaking it as if he could predict what you were about to do.

“(Y/n), come meet my friends!” he called to you. Sighing, you pulled your cardigan closer to your body before hopping out the back seat, stretching your arms as the snap, crackled, and popped. You were finally able to get a good look at the people on your lawn. An older white man with brunette hair, and a thick mustache. Another in a wheelchair, with long, thick black hair, a cowboy hat perched on his head. You recognized them from the pictures from your dad’s office. “These are my old buddies, Billy Black and Charlie Swan. We grew up together!” he explained. Putting on your best smile, you stuck your hand out, shaking each of their respective hands.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both after hearing dad talk my ears off about you for years.” You joked, causing both men to chuckle. 

“If it makes you feel any better, your dad’s always bragging about ya, kid.” Charlie said. You smile slightly at your dad as he tells you that. Your dad has never been a stranger of telling you how proud he is of you, so it doesn’t shock you that much but it’s still nice to hear it.

“Enough chatting, how’s bout I grab some beers from the cooler and we can start unpacking this uhaul? We’ve got some time but let me tell ya’, the Mrs. does not pack light.” Your dad speaks over his shoulder as he makes his way to the trunk. You hear the sound of ice shuffling as he grabs a few beers out, cracking them open on the side of the car.

“Everything has value, David! You’ll be thanking me when it saves you the money!” Your mom says from the open door, huffling as she grabs another box from the porch, carrying it further into the house. Shaking your head, you smile some. At least some things haven’t changed.

After a while, you finally got all of your boxes into your new room. The one with the balcony as you had hoped. All your heavier furniture was still on the lawn as Mr.Black had informed you his son would be coming soon to bring it up for you. In the meantime, you had time to put your other things up. Standing in the middle of the room, you close your eyes, focusing your mind for a bit as your body begins to levitate, just barely hitting the high ceilings. Waving your hand, your rolled up rug unfolds placing itself in the middle of your room. You squint your eyes until you’re able to locate the box labeled ‘books’, hovering your hand in their direction. You move it to the built-in bookshelves on the wall, all of your books organizing themselves perfectly. Magic has its perks. 

You decide to go for the books next until there’s a knock on your door startling you. You fall to the ground with a loud thud, groaning as the door swings open. Looking up, your body grows warm at the sight in front of you. There’s a taller boy around your age, shirtless with your mattress under one of his arms. Due to his lack of shirt, you’re able to take in every inch of his chiseled chest and the tattoo on his arm. You recognized the symbol from one of the spellbooks your mother showed you but couldn’t recall the meaning. As you pry your eyes away from his torso, you’re able to focus on his face which is somehow even better than what you were just looking at. Gorgeous brown eyes, thick brows, and pretty pink lips. He was somehow rugged and cute at the same time but you had no time to focus on that as he dropped your mattress on the ground, pulling you up with ease.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a concerned tone. You looked away in embarrassment, clearing your throat as you backed away from his hold.

“Fine. Just tripped over this stupid rug.” You mumbled. He looks you up and down, laughing as he returns to the mattress, lifting it with ease. Almost too much. He leans it against the wall furthest from you before returning to the doorway. He smiles at you, throwing you a subtle wink.

“Just in case. I’ll be back with the rest, try not to hurt yourself in the meantime.” He teases, gone just as quickly as he came. You stand frozen in place, listening as he makes his way down the stairs, the sounds of his steps fading. Once you were sure he was gone, you walk over to the balcony doors, stepping out into the chilly fall air. You let out a groan as you lean over it, playing with the idea of jumping off. At least you wouldn’t be able to embarrass yourself any further. 

2

[pitchsidestories]

under the mistletoe II Ellie Roebuck x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 2032

summary: With a little help of Ellie's and Reader's Barcelona teammates a near kiss on Ellie's return to the pitch turns into a real kiss at the team's Christmas party.

author's note: Dear readers, we hope you had a wonderful Christmas, whether you celebrated it or not. Enjoy reading ! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

19 months had passed since Ellie had suffered a stroke, there were days the English goalkeeper believed she wasn’t able to make her return in goal, but her will was stronger and tonight marked her emotional return.

Ever since the blonde joined Barcelona in the summer, you witnessed her achievements as well as her struggle first hand. Both of you were in recovery together for different reasons, yet it made you bond over the similar situation.

As the season changed from summer to autumn, you went from being regular teammates to friends. Now that winter had arrived in Spain, you wondered whether the two of you could be more for each other.

The football game against Real Betis turned out to be a solid win for Barca with Esme, Caroline and Ona scoring.

Much to your own dissatisfaction, Pere substituted you at the end of the game. He told you he didn’t want to risk anything after your recent comeback but was happy with your performance. 

The words of your coach calmed you down a bit while you sat down to watch the rest of the game including the only goal from a Sevillian player. The team celebrated it like their own little win, immediately your eyes went to look for Ellie’s reaction who was clearly frustrated by it.

Nonetheless, it was a win that meant so much more because the goalkeeper had returned to the beautiful game she loved so much.

After the game officially ended you immediately ran on the pitch to jump into Ellie’s open arms. “Congratulations, babe. We're all so proud of you,’ you whispered in her ear, ignoring the fact that your lips were almost touching her in a perfect kiss.

The English woman beamed at you: “Thanks.”  Her face literally lit up and competed with the beauty which were the glowing and colourful windows inside the Sagrada Família. For a moment both of you forgot you were still surrounded by people until Kika reminded you.

“Move over, we want to hug Ellie too!”, the Portuguese forward chuckled amused.

Slightly embarrassed, you release yourself from her embrace, feeling your cheeks turn fiery red at her comment.

Many team-mates followed the striker and hugged the goalkeeper, who responded with a warm smile and said thank you, girls.

” You’re welcome, we've been waiting for this moment, and it hasn't disappointed us”’ replied Kika in a friendly tone

Curious, Keira asked her friend, whom she had known for so long at this point: “How does it feel to be back?”

“Unbelievable. I'm glad I can share this with you in the team too”, Ellie replied gratefully, hugging her sideways, knowing that the older midfielder wasn't so keen on physical affection.

Nevertheless, Keira was incredibly touched by the significance of the moment they were able to experience together: “You deserve to be here on the pitch again after all you’ve been through.”

“Stop it, Keira, or I'll cry”, the younger English woman warned the older one, tears of joy already forming in her blue eyes.

“Oh, sorry, don’t cry, please.”, the midfielder begged.

To save this situation, you suggested: “What about a group hug and no more tears for tonight?”

“Promise.”, Ellie said as the team hugged each other tightly to celebrate her return once more.

“Good.”, you nodded satisfied.

The wholesome moment was only interrupted by Mapis voice: “Girls? Don’t forget about the Christmas team dinner!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”, you promised as you all finally started to let go of Ellie again.

The blonde goalkeeper smiled: “Yes, I will convince Keira to join us.”

Her lionesses teammate cringed at that: “I hate Christmas parties.”

“But you love me, so…”, Ellie blinked at her innocently.

Keira knew she couldn’t disagree so she just groaned: “Ugh.”

“Count us all in.”, you laughed before you all started heading towards the dressing room to change. One by one, they all started to leave the stadium until only Mapi and Ingrid were left.

“Ingrid, you noticed that earlier too, right?”, Mapi asked impatiently, once the door fell shut behind Irene.

The Norwegian nodded: “Of course, amor.”

A smile spread on the Spanish defenders face: “I have a plan.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes.”

“Tell me.”

Mapi just shook her head with a conspiratorial smile: “You will see. Let’s go buy some mistletoes for the Christmas dinner.”

“Mistletoes? I think I know what you have planned now.”

“It’s the season of love after all.”, Mapi winked.

“And we saw that they almost kissed on the pitch.”, Ingrid added.

“Exactly. Now let’s go, we have to prepare everything.”

When you arrived at Mapis and Ingrids apartment, the Christmas party had already started. Most of your teammates were already there, standing in the middle of the room with drinks in hand. It looked like Mapi and Ingrid had to move some of their furniture to accommodate the number of football players they hosted.

You immediately spotted Ellie standing to the side, talking to Kika.

“Hi.”, you greeted your teammates.

The goalkeeper quickly pulled you into a hug: “Hey. You look pretty.”

“Thank you. I love your outfit.”, you replied politely but truthfully.

“Thank you.”, Ellie smiled back. “Who hung up all those mistletoes?”

You followed Ellie's gaze to the ceiling, where sprigs of mistletoe hung at regular intervals.

“Mapi? Ingrid?”, you suggested with a shrug but you also couldn’t hide how impressed you were with their decorations. They really went all out for the Christmas dinner.

As if she had been waiting for it, Mapi appeared on your side with a smirk: “Oh, don’t you two know what tradition wants from you?”

“We do but we’re not standing under one.“, Ellie replied laughing.

You nodded in agreement: “Exactly.“

Mapi raised one eyebrow at both of you: “At least you know, in case you find yourselves under one.“

Keira stood with her back to the wall, studying the parasitic plants above her with wide eyes: “I’ll make sure I won’t move for the entire evening to avoid standing underneath them then!”

“And how are you going to get your food?”, Ellie asked, her warm laughter filling the air.

The English midfielder replied with an embarrassed smile: “Well.”

“I can bring you some.”, the goalkeeper offered then gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Thank you,’ Keira muttered, incredibly grateful for their friendship, which has lasted since their time together at Manchester City. 

Still smiling the blonde answered: “You’re welcome.”

“When’s the dinner ready? I’m getting hungry?”, Kika changed the topic swiftly.

“It should be done by now.”, Mapi and her girlfriend quickly left their seats and went into the kitchen to fetch the festive meal that everyone was waiting for. Inside there was a buffet there every guest could get what the heart desired.

Just outside the door, the Spaniard stopped and looked up at the ceiling with a dreamy expression on her face. With a mischievous grin on her lips the defender added: “Oh, look, Ingrid. A mistletoe right above us.”

Ingrid’s green eyes lit up with amusement: “You’re such a dork, Maria.”, the Norwegian mumbled into the older woman’s ear before kissing her despite the teasing comment.

 “You love it.”, Mapi observed confidently.

Her younger girlfriend admitted: “Maybe a little bit.”

“Want to get some food too?”, Ellie turned her face towards you beaming.

You nervously push a loose strand of hair behind your ear before answering: “I do, but the mistletoe.”

“We can avoid them.”, the blonde offered conspiratorially with a wink.

“How boring!”, Mapi threw in.

 Ignoring her teammate's words, Ellie stood up and took your hand as you followed her: “Come on.”

“You can go first and then I’ll follow you. Oh, uhm sorry.”, you apologized with heated cheeks while you stumbled into the goalkeeper who caught you without a problem, but now the mistletoe was hanging right above you, waiting for the next act to unfold.

You both didn't see that Keira was the one who was inconspicuously pushing you. Later in the evening the midfielder would explain her reasoning behind it to bring you figural speaking closer together.

In the present moment Keira waved it off nonchalantly: “Don’t worry about it.”

“‘Well, you know the tradition, I guess we...”, began Ellie, her cheeks colouring slightly pink as she felt all her teammates’ eyes on the two of you.

A gentle reminder came from your lips: “I mean no one’s forcing us to.”

“I’m aware of that, but what if I want to do it.” Much to your own surprise, she made this quiet confession, which rekindled the sparks between them.

“Maybe, I want it too.”, you agreed flustered.

A shy smile spread on Ellies face: “Close your eyes.”

Without hesitation you did as you were told, waiting patiently for what would happen next. You almost flinched when Ellies lips lowered down on yours with the softest touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes, in case she might stop.

Only when Ellie finally pulled back after what felt like minutes, you finally blinked and found yourself too close to her face. She studied you in anticipation but you had no words except for: “Oh wow.”

“That was…”, Ellie started, clearly unsure how to put her own feelings into words.

“Absolutely delicious. Can I have another taste?”, you asked with an innocent smile.

The goalkeeper nodded happily: “Yes, maybe in the kitchen without all those eyes staring at us?”

You couldn't help but notice the slight blush on her cheeks.

“Okay.”, you agreed and followed her into the kitchen, ignoring all the other mistletoes on your way.

“Ellie, don’t forget my plate!”, Keira called after the two of you.

The goalkeeper shrugged and continued her way: “Sorry, I have to go.”

Keira pouted from the other side of the room: “Rude.”

“Young love, what are you going to do about it, right?”, Mapi grinned as she joined the midfielder leaning against the wall.

Ingrid appeared on Keiras other side, handing her a drink: “Thanks for your help, Keira. They really needed that push in the right direction.”

“You’re welcome.”

Kika held a plate out to her: “Here, Keira.You can have a bit of my food so you don’t have to starve because of those two lovebirds.”

“Thanks, Kika.”, Keira smiled, gratefully accepting the offered food.

“No worries.“

While your teammates stood outside gossiping, you and Ellie were alone in the kitchen. Every surface was covered with food or bottles but you didn’t mind. It was just you and her and no one else.

“So when did you first-…”, you started but stopped immediately when you realized that Ellie said the same thing at the same time.

“No, you go first.”, she insisted.

You cleared your throat before replying: “I’m not sure when it was. But I like your vibe and how positive you are even with everything going on.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I just have so much… love and respect for you.”

“And I loved that you didn’t pity me. You just welcomed me with open arms. And I like that you don’t hate it when I take photos of everything and that you’re able to just enjoy the moment as it is.”, Ellie answered, surprisingly passionately.

“You’re so sweet, Ellie.”

You watched her face suddenly light up with a smug smile: “And you know what they say about me. I’m a keeper.”

The joke came so unexpected that you started to giggle: “Then I’d like to keep you in my life.”

It was Mapi who softly knocked against the kitchen doorframe to receive both of your attention. “Hey, just letting you two amantes know that we’ll start playing games soon.”, she informed you with a wide grin on her lips.

Ellie quickly promised: “We’ll be there soon.”

“Perfect.”, the Spaniard nodded in satisfaction.

Innocently, you placed a finger under the taller woman’s chin so that she had to look into your eyes when you said: “You know, Ellie, I think there’s another mistletoe right above us.”

“Looks like I’ve to kiss you again.”, the goalkeeper replied happily.

Her lips felt incredibly soft against yours as they met in a tender kiss.  Warming both of your hearts on a cold December evening.  

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

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