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yeeterthek33per · 7 months

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Kissin' and Kickin' Charm (Glódís Perla Viggósdóttir x reader)

A/n not requested, but this woman does not get the love she deserves, so I'm making it happen.

Munich is a hell of a lot different than home.

Of course, you expected that, you aren't stupid...

Not entirely anyway.

There's a charm to the city. A much different one than the small Texan town you're used to, but it's a homely charm, if any.

A much broader, explorative city with ins and outs, beautiful buildings, and on the outskirts, something you've come to realise you feel more at home in than the city, areas with wide open flatlands and albeit manmade, forested areas.

It's definitely a big city, with many towns and a lot of diverse structuring.

It's a lot.

But it's your new home.

At least for the next three years, anyway.

You imagine yourself at home in the ranch right now.

Kicking up dirt, green grass and if you're really lucky, mud and puddles. All of that on your horse, Sweets, that you got for your tenth birthday.

In fact, you'd be there right now, at home on the ranch, if it wasn't for one teeny tiny detail.

Soccer.

For whatever reason, that was the sport your child brain picked to become your newest obsession. Except, it never stopped being that way. You lived and breathed it.

It surprised the hell out of your parents.

They'd never imagined their little, quiet, leather boots, horseback riding, ranch loving daughter kicking around a soccer ball.

But that's what you wanted.

And that's what you did in your spare time.

At first, they were adamant you didn't play it. They refused, insisting that if you wanted to get into any sport, it had to be either American football or horse riding.

But after sneaking home a ball to boot around for the umpteenth time, they relented, letting you take it on.

And take it on, you did.

It got to the point where you were severely outclassing the only all boys teams in your tiny town.

Enough so that someone visiting, who happened to have the right associations, scouted you for the youth academy in Houston.

You went up through the academy, which survived despite the rise and fall of the women's league in the US several times.

Eventually, you were contracted for the first time at eighteen.

It was a big deal.

Small town girl makes her first appearance for the big leagues and despite your parents earlier disappointment in your choice of career, they were now prouder than ever watching you take on the world.

Of course, with that growth, came your first call up to the national team at age nineteen.

That little tidbit had your Mama crying harder than the day you were born. She couldn't have been prouder to see you represent your country.

Playing amongst the likes of legends like Tobin Heath, Heather O'Reilly and even Abby Wambach for a short period, you thrived.

The immense pressure was nothing like you'd ever felt, and you loved it.

Even as reserved as you are, you love a good challenge.

With the call-up, the demand to have you increased, and eventually, at the age of twenty-four, you, rather tearfully, said goodbye to the Dash and moved to Portland to join your national teammates, Sonnett and Horan.

You've spent the past four years there, although you aren't the biggest fan of the city life. You loved the soccer fanbase.

The thorns are well loved by the people in the city and some of the greatest players you've known, to date, play for them.

Of course, playing with the greatest players of all time means you yourself catch the attention of overseas scouters.

It's not the first time it's happened.

Every year, you get calls from your manager letting you know about the offers from clubs in countries you'd never dreamed of seeing before.

That being said, you'd always turned them down, not wanting to leave your home country just yet.

Until now, that is.

When the offer from FC Bayern came through, you just knew.

You knew you had to do it, had to take that chance.

"So what do we say, Y/n?"

"... Tell I'm in if they've got a heated pitch and air-conditioning."

Had your manager chuckling at that.

Taking the time to dig into the team a bit, you end having a look at the team list.

You know the names of a few of the players there, but you'd not formally met them yet, only meeting them once or twice on the pitch.'

One name stuck out in particular though.

Of course it did, she's the captain.

Your new captain.

But there's something you admire about the Icelandic woman that immediately grabs at your soul and you end up taking the time to look up her highlights.

The perseverance, the constant drive to do better and to lift up her teammates around her.

The perfect defence with constant push and pull, defensive manoeuvres and just an overall brick wall of a woman.

The perfect captain.

So when you meet her for the first time, you're a little starstruck.

Sure, you'd done your research in advance, but actually meeting the sweetly voiced Nordic woman has you anxious in your boots beyond measure.

----

When Glódís meets the new signing, she's a little thrown off.

She knew you were American, that you were from Texas and that you most likely had a very different upbringing to the lifestyle you lived now, but the immediate southern charm that flows through your natural southern drawl has her a little flustered.

She doesn't expect the charming smile or the way you call her ma'am and warmly shake her hand, expressing, rather sheepishly, your excitement to meet her.

"It's lovely meetin' you, Ma'am. I've heard a lot about everything you've done for this club and your country. It's incredible, actually, not to sound too much like I'm kissin' up here, but really."

Your head ducks a little, cheeks reddening at your own rambling.

It's adorable, she decides.

"You talk me up a lot for someone of her own incredible skill."

Her smile widens at the way your cheeks darken further under her teasing compliment.

"Oh, I mean, that's... it's not everything I want to achieve. It feels like I've had it a little easier than a lot of the ladies I've seen and played with and known personally. I'm just excited to be here and to get to be a part of something this big. With y'all, at that."

"We're glad to have you on board with us, then. I think you'll fit right in here. The girls have been begging me to let them in the door for the past thirty minutes while you were doing the contract signing."

She gestures to the windowed door to the room, which, with a quick glance, you spot the eagerly waiting players, grinning and waving like kids at you.

It makes you feel a little more anxious now.

Such big names in German and international football and here they are, giddily waiting for you to finish your media duties and finally get to meet little old you.

It feels surreal.

When you turn back to the captain, she's already smiling warmly back at you, and after the okay from you and the management in the room, they let them in.

It's almost too much, the way they all excitedly introduce themselves despite in many cases not having to, with the way you get flustered as you know them well already, having maybe, quite possibly also looked the rest of them up in a bit more detail, purely out of nervousness.

Also, the friendliness of it all.

Normally, with new signings at Portland, it always felt super cold and competitive, definitely a lot colder in the introductions, done during training rather than in a room on the campus.

Of course, after a couple of months, the players did warm up to you, but there's always the cold air about the veterans on the team, all of them wary of you and your abilities.

Always the stress of having your position on the team ousted by the new and shiny youngins for so much as running the wrong way.

Here, in Munich, Germany, in the clubs training facility, in a meeting room, your new clubs teammates welcome you with warm open arms, an air of bubbly enthusiasm and many, many hugs rather than the cold and firm handshakes you're used to.

You recognise a few of them, particularly Magdalena, a regular opponent from Sweden and her national teammate Linda, as well as of course, the German players, the English player, Georgia and Jill Baijings, a member of the Dutch National Team you'd faced just months before at the World Cup.

Regardless of the rivalry held at the international level, they're surprisingly warm, quickly dragging you into hugs themselves.

At least, it's surprising for you.

It feels different here.

It is different here.

You find yourself leaning into it more and more, the more you chat with the team.

It goes on for an hour or so before you're dragged away for more media duties.

The girls are rather reluctant to let their new friend go, waving you goodbye with warm smiles, but small pouts as their chuckling captain ushers them from the room, leaving you with one last grin and a wink that sends heat to your cheeks and shivers down your spine.

Well.

You'll be damned.

That just happened.

----

"She's so cute! I love her accent. She's so sweet with the way she talks too."

The gushing from Giulia is quickly resounded by the other's around her.

"Right? The way she kept calling us Ma'am and Miss. It's too sweet. And her accent, it's so smooth."

"Oh my god, I know Americans aren't the most well known for being nice to listen to, but I listen to her talk all day."

"She's really good too, I've seen her highlights."

There's a few small gasps and protests from around the room.

"Oi! Syd! Why haven't you shown us yet?"

"Hold on, let me just -"

"Guys! Seriously, what the hell are you doing? I've been looking for you for ages. Put the phone away, you all have training to do."

The resounding voice in the changeroom comes from a stern looking Glódís. She's normally quite gentle toned with them, but they were taking far too long to get out on the pitch, leaving their captain wondering where the hell half her team was.

"But we want to see how good Y/n is, Syd's got the highlights here."

"No, you can see how good she is when she joins us for training after her medical assessment. Now come on, or you'll be running laps for making the rest of the team wait on you all."

There's groans of disappointment, but to their rather swift credit, they do promptly exit the changeroom and make their way to the pitch where an also stern looking Alexander Straus is waiting for them, the team's manager, followed closely by Glódís, who's small smile contradicts her rolling eyes and annoyed head shaking.

----

When you do join them, you're quickly grabbed by Glódís, the captain having unofficially ruled that any new signings get paired with her first to properly welcome them to the team, and to also get them settled into her captaincy style and to adapt them to the dynamic of the team.

It's a way to get you properly integrated into the very familial like nature of it all.

Glódís seems very much like the mother of the team. All of them best friends but very much like siblings and but a few of the other older women taking the younger one's under their wings as parental figures on their own.

You figure it as a way to keep some semblance of structure amongst the chaos of the team.

The captain, it seems, is at the head of this, ensuring all of them work well together, the team is lifted for their triumphs, and picked back up with every miscalculated cross and shot, and dragged back onto their feet after every tackle or mistimed step.

Training with Glódís is intense, a good kind of intense. You find yourself enjoying the calculated, focused nature of her defensive manoeuvring.

But it's also warm, the occasional chatter between you leaving you both laughing at the other person's jokes and small mishaps as you settle in.

Her giggles are nothing if not contagious, and you can't help the grin that grows more and more the more you spend time with her.

It doesn't go unnoticed by the others, them taking note of the way their normally much more drill oriented captain has relaxed a bit.

Of course, she's friendly, smart, smiley and very much welcoming, but she's never been this laid back during drills, especially not when she's always expecting to set precedents with the new signings.

But this was definitely different to that.

The lingering touches, hip bumps and tone of laughter are different from the ones she's always held with the rest of the team. It's a little lighter, more giggly and full of a tone they themselves hadn't heard from her.

It was startling to see, nearly.

Glódís was... flirting?

Intentional or not, they didn't know, but it was definitely a flirty tone.

Not that you could tell, bless your oblivious self. You had no idea.

You matched the tone of lightness, of course. But you weren't picking up on everything else, thinking she's just naturally like that.

A very friendly captain.

The other girls know otherwise though, and the knowing looks they share later when your cute celebration after managing to meg the brick wall of a captain has her smirking slightly at your adorableness.

One thing she notices is that the more excited you get, the more your accent comes out.

It's adorable, she realises.

----

The second training isn't much different to the first.

You don't pay it much attention outside of friendliness, but Glódís takes a quick liking to you, now having claimed you for all paired warmups and drills.

Occasionally, you get stolen away every once in a while, leaving you feeling very much like the cool kid on the block.

There's something else, though.

It's in the way the Icelander smiles at you. It's in the way she hugs you every time you score in a mini game.

You brush it off, thinking, once again, she's just being friendly.

But it's a thought that sits in the back of your mind anyway.

You feel like it's a glimmer of hope. You're not sure what for or why but it's there.

Maybe it's a sign of a great friendship blooming.

Yeah.

That's what it is.

Ever since that, it's been amazing training with the team.

Your first match is just weeks after signing.

Your first minutes come as a sub for Klara in the sixtieth minute.

And it's not too long after that that you score your first goal for the club against Leipzig.

It's a beauty too.

A long range effort after a foward pass to Pernille is rebounded back to you.

It was an accident really.

You were aiming for the head of Lea but instead it curls a little more than you intend it to and it bends into the upper right corner of the netting, far past the outstretched gloves of the Swiss keeper, Elvira Herzog.

It feels a little silly, but you can't help the blush when you feel your captain hug you super tightly and lift you up in celebration.

"Let's go, that's our girl!"

----

It's been two months with the team and two and a half living in Germany. You've got a small cottage in the outer district of Munich, with enough yard to set up small drills and other various exercises.

There's been plenty of outings for you, finding yourself socialising far more than you used to back in Portland.

You don't hate it, though.

The whole team has been nothing but sweet to you, and it seems they're already attached, each player having dragged you on outings themselves, whether it be individually or with groups of them.

You're not sure why they've taken quite such a liking, but you think it might have something to do with the fact they keep asking questions for you and you alone to answer, or just anything to get you to talk, really.

You don't mind it. Bless 'em.

They're already like family to you.

Tonight is no different when it comes to being dragged to outings and team bonding nights.

Only this time, it's to a club in central Munich, having been allowed a little freedom given they dont a match this weekend. You yourself don't drink much, but some of the other girls do, so they've let loose, of course, under the watch of their captain and a few of the older girls acting as designated drivers.

There's a small nudge to your shoulder where you're leaning against a standing table.

"Hey you."

You'd recognise that sweet voice anywhere, humming as you turn to the suddenly appeared Glódís at your side.

"Well, hello, having fun there, Sweetheart?"

Glódís' lips perk up at your words.

"Always."

She takes a glance at the cup in your hand.

"Not drinking much? You can let loose a bit tonight, I'm letting you guys off the hook for tomorrow's training. Once in a lifetime opportunity L/n."

She winks at you, and you smile at her, amused.

You shake your head when she nods towards your still half full glass of vodka and soda.

"Nah, I want to be able to get up tomorrow, training or not."

She chuckles, nodding in agreement.

"Oh, to be young and dumb enough to drink like that once upon a time."

"Don't say it like that. You're only twenty-eight."

You huff playfully.

"Please, you and I both know neither of us would make it out alive if we-"

She cuts herself off, gesturing to the very rowdy girls taking another round of shots.

"Well... you're not wrong. To being old and susceptible to hangovers."

She giggles, and you hold out your glass towards hers, meeting her in the middle with a small clink and you both take a sip, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Woah there grandma. Not too hard now."

As you go to take another sip.

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you nudge her.

Turning back towards the group, you groan watching them take another round of shots.

"Oh sweet baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph. How the hell are we gettin' them home."

She pats your head with a small chuckle.

"With a lot of herding and the good old divide and conquer, cowgirl."

Then she moves off to go find Pernille and Magda on the other side of the room.

"You know, you and Glódís would be a super adorable couple."

A pair of arms wrap around your neck as a very drunk Sarah hangs onto you for stability, hear head leaning on your shoulder, and your arm moves to hold onto her so she doesn't hit the floor.

"Sarah, little miss, it's really cute that you wanna include me, but you know I don't speak German."

"One, I'm older than you, Two, sucks to be you."

A poke to the cheek following that, as she sticks out her tongue.

"Aren't you taking German classes anyway?"

"Yeah, but doesn't mean I understand the dialect of drunken soccer player yet."

She pouts at you before grumbling and resting her head back on it's spot on your shoulder.

"What I said was, you and Glódís would make a good couple."

Your cheeks immediately flame up, and your whole body tenses, wondering if you even heard the Austrian right.

"What-"

You clear your throat softly.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're already attached at the hip like no other. I've never seen her like this with anyone else. Even her old friend, Karólína."

"She's probably just missin' her then, Sar"

"If you say so."

It's just about mumbled into your shirt and you're beginning to realise that despite the pumping music, she's starting to exhaust pretty quickly with the way she's leaning further and further into you until you have to sit her down in one of the teams half occupied booths where she settles into another teammates arms.

With a small chuckle, you leave her to it, them saying they'd be heading out soon anyways and would take her home.

As you return to your spot at the table, you can't help but think back on what she said.

Despite her inebriation, what she said held weight in your mind.

And it ends with you eyeing up the woman through the small crowd over the lip of your drink.

You catch her looking back several times, each time sheet meets your eye, you think you imagine it, but her eyes crinkle a bit, and her smile gets a little brighter.

----

"You know, if you keep looking at her like that, she might catch onto you there, Glódí."

She knows she's not being subtle, but she can't help the way her eyes drift over to you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Schülli."

"I think you do."

Glódís bites her lower lip as she watches you set the very drunk Sarah down by Sam and Linda (The Swedish one) before moving back to where you were, carefully watching over the girls on the dance floor.

It seems, with even just a few months with the team, you're already looking out for them like your own.

When you make eye contact with her for the fourth time in ten minutes, she smiles just that little bit more, which you quickly match.

Though, it seems, she doesn't expect the wink you send with it.

She raises a brow at you, ducking under the cover of her glass, hoping the purple hue of the lighting masks her slightly flushed cheeks.

"Wow, she has got you already, hasn't she?"

"Shut up."

The defender quickly turns away from your direction so the striker doesn't have get given any more fuel and gives her an annoyed but small shove to the shoulder, a slight frown marring her features.

"I think you should go for it, Glódí, she clearly has something for you."

"And what if she says no? Then what? Another friendship here ruined?"

Lea pauses for a minute, watching her, as her head ducks and her cheeks flare up at the admission.

"You mean... Ka"

Glódís swiftly nods, shushing the forward.

"Is that why she hasn't-"

She nods again.

The tips of her ears burn in shame under the taller German's gaze.

She hadn't meant to bring it up, but it just slipped out.

Karólína hadn't exactly reacted badly as such, but things between them haven't been the same since then, and with her being on loan now, they really spoken, if at all.

It still hurt, the look in her eyes as she tried her best to let her best friend down gently. Even then, months later, after the international break together, it still hurt.

After that, she'd sworn off dating teammates.

Hence, she hesitates to even think about pursuing anything with you.

She can't help the pang of hope she gets when you smile so brightly at her, though.

The sweet, charming, smooth tone you hold with her.

The way you hold her just a little bit longer and tighter than you do with the others.

But that's what she thought with Karólína, too.

And she was oh so wrong there.

So what's stopping her from being wrong now, right?

"That's why it can't happen, Lea. I'm not going through that again. I can't risk losing her or risk the team possibly being affected by it."

Lea smiles sympathetically at her captain, hand resting on her shoulder with a small squeeze.

It's silent between them for a few moments before the blonde speaks up again.

"Then don't worry about it. Now come on, I think it's time we get this rowdy lot home, it's nearing midnight."

Glódís sighs in appreciation and nods, looking over to the singing and dancing group of players followed by her gaze ultimately drifting over to you once more, returning the familiar warm smile she receives.

----

"Alright, come on, time for you to go to bed, little miss."

There's a small giggle from the drunkenly slurring blonde as you walk her up to her front door, your hands rifling her pockets for her keys.

"You're so cute."

Giulia pokes your cheek with one finger, and you roll your eyes, ignoring the flush creeping up your neck when you hear Glódís' muffled laughter behind you.

You'd turn to give her a glare but you're a bit preoccupied.

"And you are very inebriated."

Finally acquiring the keys from her back pocket, which she giggles again and wiggles her eyebrows at you for, earning herself another eyeroll as you drag her inside finally.

"You sure you got her there?"

The amused chuckle from the doorway makes you groan as she watches your stubborn self herd the blonde woman, currently letting herself lean completely on you, into her bedroom to at least encourage her to bed for the night.

"I am perfectly capable, thank you."

You're sure she doesn't believe that, but you believe it enough yourself to give up and let the now giggling woman help you as she observes on your masterpiece of drunk person wrangling.

Said drunk person now dead weight in your arms whining about not wanting to go to bed yet, to which you just plop her on the mattress finally and despite her protests, she's asleep in seconds.

Turning to Glódís triumphantly, you catch her amused smirk.

"Yeah yeah, real funny. I'd like to see you do that."

She shrugs, shaking her head.

"You're the one that insisted on bringing her in yourself, without help."

Grumbling, you make sure Giulia is fully on the bed before dropping her keys by the door and exiting and locking it on the way out.

Now, the both of you are stood in the darkness outside, with the last of the girls dropped home already, a collaborative effort thanks to Pernille, Magda, both Lindas and Jovana.

It's just you and her, now.

It's a cool winter night, nearing the end of the season but still cold enough that you're half shivering in front of the older woman.

You're both silent, your eyes drifting over her features lit up under the faint glow of the street lamp.

You swear, she gets even prettier every day.

The subtle but sharp line of her jaw, the way her hair almost glows under the moonlight, and the soft pink tint to her cheeks from the cold all have your heart beating a little quicker.

The way her eyes sparkle as they scan yours from across the porch.

The way her lips quirk up slightly under your gaze, brow raising just a bit.

"You okay?"

Her words snap you out of your assessment, and you hum softly, quickly recovering.

"Just a little tired, let's get on home then, Darlin?"

She nods and turns to head towards her car.

It doesn't surprise her when you jog ahead of her to open the driver side door for her, having done it every single time now since leaving the club.

"Such a gentlewoman."

Apparently, she hadn't grown tired of it yet, so that's a start.

It's a soft teasing tone that you poke your tongue out at her at before jumping in the passenger side.

On the drive out to your place outside of the city, her arm rests on the centre console, lined up next to yours as you hum along to the song on the radio, gazing out the window but also occasionally glancing over at her, scanning her side profile.

If she can feel your gaze on her, she doesn't really react.

It remains quiet for most of the drive, with the occasional hum or murmur along with the music.

It's not an awkward silence, but one you both need after tonight's activities.

Every so often, your pinkies brush, and every time they do, there's a small jolt of electricity that shoots up you arm from where they meet.

The moment you're in your own driveway, you bid her a soft and sweet thanks with a gentle nudge and give her a small wink and wave as she pulls way again.

She's thankful you're not there to hear her most likely audible heart beating in her chest the rest of the way home again.

----

Her heart racing at everything you do doesn't stop that night.

In fact, it gets worse.

It feels like everything you do has it beating beyond her rib cage.

It frustrates her, actually.

Every time she gets placed on something she needs full focus and attention for, she's been perfect for, but if you're there next to her?

Forget it.

Media duties?

Sitting next to you, she can feel your leg occasionally brush hers, arms brushing on the table every time you set it down from making gestures and whatnot.

Coach speeches during half time?

It's like you're doing it on purpose knowing she can't focus when you're standing behind her, hands resting on her shoulders, warmth radiating against her back with how close you are.

At one point, she's convinced you are doing it on purpose when she looks back and up at you, head tilted to make eye contact with you with a brow kinked up as you look down at her with a small smirk and a wink.

The more it goes, the less she knows how to function around you.

Individual post game interviews?

Even with you just moving around her doing various interviews with different journalists. A small brush of shoulders here, a hand gliding across her lower back as you move past her there.

At this rate, she feels like she's drowning in you and she's not even trying to move away.

Paired up interviews?

It feels like she's at her wits end with this one.

You're brought in together for a two-on-one interview for some football media page she can't remember the name of. There, seated on a couch, you're not even really doing anything. Except for the arm you have over the back of the lounge, resting just behind her head.

You aren't seated so close that you're pressed together. But you are close enough she can smell your perfume and it's making her head spin a little.

Hell, she feels like she should be used to hearing you speak by now, but it still has her feeling like she can't think properly with you around.

How she plans on surviving this, she doesn't know, but all she knows if she doesn't do something, she's going to lose her mind.

----

You know you shouldn't do it.

Really.

There's not even a guarantee she likes you back right?

Still, you can't help teasing her a little.

She doesn't confront you about it, she doesn't tell you to stop and as far as you can tell, she's not uncomfortable.

Your captain has always been verbal about how she's feeling when she's talking to people...

Mostly.

But she never leans away from you, only ever receiving a flushed face or an eye brow in response at most.

You can tell it's flustering her though.

By the way she's so quick to hide her reddened cheeks.

It's in the most adorable way that she rolls her eyes at your teasing comments when she scores a pretty good goal.

Small touches here and there, innocent touches. Nothing more than brushes and occasional times of brushing away grass from her face after particularly rough tackles.

The soft smile and drawl flowing from you asking how she's holding up makes it worth it.

Even though you may not be able to kiss her, her smile? Totally worth it.

----

Glódís feels like she's at her breaking point right about now.

When she's getting distracted during a game, a champions league game at that, that's a major problem.

You're both lined up for offence on a free kick when you're pressed in between her and an opposition player while she pressures the player in front.

It takes one brush of your hands on her waist and she's distracted long enough to miss jumping for the header on time.

Instead, you make it to the header, the ball flying into the back of the net as you take off running in celebration, having broken the deadlock in the final minute of stoppage.

Which turns into celebrations of the win the moment the whistle blows for full time and you're piled on for saving the teams chances at a spot in the quarter final over PSG.

The screams of the home crowd are drowned out as she waits impatiently for the end of her on field media duties.

Being the captain sucked sometimes, but it had to be done.

The moment she's free, she's jogging straight over to you and you're being dragged away off the field before you can even realise what's happening.

You had your own media duties, ones that you were currently shirking right now not being out there.

The moment you realise it's Glódís, the protests you had ready die in your throat, left with minor confusion the further down the obscure hallways she drags you until you're both in a secluded area and you're shoved into a broom closet with the door slammed shut behind both of you.

"What's goin-"

It takes all of a moment for her to grab you by the collar and slam you against the door leaving you a little winded and confused.

"Whatever it is you're doing, needs to stop. You're driving me crazy."

"What are you-"

"Don't play dumb with me, every time you so much as come near me, you brush past me, you so much as stand near me, I can't think and it's like you damn well know it, too."

It suddenly clears up there. You definitely didn't weren't doing it entirely on purpose.

Well, maybe.

Okay, it may have been a little on purpose, but you had no idea she was this affected.

"Look, I can stop if it's making you uncomfortable but Glódís... I... I kind of really like you and..."

----

Oh.

Well that changes things.

You actually like her?

You weren't just teasing her?

----

Before you can say much else, her hands cup your face and her lips are on yours in one movement.

Anticipating the action, your arms are around her in an instant, pulling her as close to you as possible, her body hot against yours despite the almost raging cold out on the pitch.

Her hands are firm on your face not letting you go for even a second, her lips fervent and sure as they move with yours.

It's only when you pull away for air that she finally relaxes into your hold for the first time.

Your hands are pressed into her lower back, hers now pressed into your shoulders as she looks slightly down at you, being just shorter than her by an inch.

The two of you just breathe for a moment, taking the moment in.

"You know. If you wanted to kiss me, all you had to was ask, Sweetheart."

She huffs.

"You're infuriating, you know that?"

There's a small guffaw on your face after that.

"What did I do?"

She almost believes the innocent look on your face.

The small upturn of your lips let's her know otherwise though.

"What didn't you do?"

And she kisses you again, slower and more tender this time, slowly pressing you back into the wall, slotting herself easily between your legs.

With your chest pressed to hers, you can finally feel the way her heart races, and she can finally feel yours, too.

There's always been something about you.

Guess it's just part of your charm.

----

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #glódís viggósdóttir x reader #glódís viggósdóttir imagine #glódís viggósdóttir imagines #glódís perla viggósdóttir x reader #glódís perla viggósdóttir imagine #glódís perla viggósdóttir imagines #fc bayern frauen x reader #fc bayern imagine #fc bayern imagines #woso oneshot #woso oneshots

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ifancyharry · 2 years

Text

Shitty friend groups

Hello loversss (as Niall Horan would say 😋) happy Christmas!! I'm sorry i went MIA, i was feeling a little down but i'm back now :) just wanted to say thank you to everyone that likes and reblogs what i write, you really do make a difference and motivate me, so thank you! as always, let me know what you think, my ask is always open to talk

Word count: 5K

What is it: Harry gets bullied by YN's friend group; angst; fluff; mentions of blood and anxiety

“Hello, Anne. Is… is Harry home? We were supposed to study together but he… he’s not answering his phone” YN sighed heavily once Anne opened the door, relieved to know someone from the Styles family was home; she knew at least Anne wouldn’t ignore her.

YN and Harry had been dating for a couple of months now, but coming from two different types of friend group, they preferred to keep their newly formed relationship to themselves, Anne being the only once to know since YN was always hanging out at Harry’s house.

Harry wasn’t so convinced they should tell her, but Anne was always extremely welcoming and kind towards YN, so she felt as if she owed it to her to at least be honest with their feelings.

When Harry had asked her to keep their relationship private, YN didn’t really understand. She thought he could be somehow ashamed she was his girlfriend, but he promised that wasn’t the case. At first, it was easy to keep it private. YN was what you could call popular in school, whereas Harry was more kept to himself with a selective group of friends, so they rarely crossed paths at school.

They would usually meet in the janitor’s closet to share a kiss or two, but they both’d agreed to keep PDA to a minimum, and despite their shared decision to keep the relationship to themselves, she couldn’t help but wonder why. YN couldn’t possibly know her friends despised Harry and told him every chance they got.

Harry was smart, he did well in school and wasn’t afraid to show it, he was passionate and opinionated, and YN’s friends thought he was awkward for that. Harry never really understood how YN could hang out with them, but he’d started to notice they were never rude when she was around, so he guessed she didn’t know their very true nature.

When Harry got picked to be YN’s tutor, he had dreaded meeting with her in the library, convinced she was as rotten as her friends, but the very first time he saw her, out of breath because she was running late, hair messy and her cheeks rosy from the cold, muttering apologies over apologies for making him wait, he knew she wasn’t anything like he had imagined. She was soft, kind, and intelligent. And pretty damn cute, may he add (although that he knew already).

YN really didn’t know what she did. One minute they were fine, talking on the phone about how much fun their date at the fair had been, and the next Harry stopped answering her texts and all she was left with was wondering what happened.

“Oh! Hi dear” Anne smiled sweetly at her, “Harry still hasn’t come home”.

YN frowned at that, starting to think maybe he’d persuaded his mum to lie for him and asked her to find a way to get rid of her. She cringed at the mere thought. Was whatever she did that bad? And Anne was usually so nice to her! She couldn’t bear to think about that.

“I need to leave for work but… but you can wait for him in his room?” Anne questioned once she saw how upset the girl in front of her looked, “I’m sure he’ll be home any minute.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother” YN bit back an awkward smile, her mouth twisting at the corners. She was relieved Anne wasn’t in on Harry’s plan to avoid her. At least she had his mum on her side. Despite not knowing what she did, she hated when Harry was mad at her. Well, mad… he never really did get mad. He just got upset and avoided her until she had to reach out and confront him. She always thought that was why their relationship was so great, she compensated wherever Harry lacked.

Understanding Harry’s fear of confrontation, she was the one who opened up first about her feelings for him, all twitchy hands and anxious mind, scared he didn’t feel the same and she had completely misread the signs.

She hadn’t, because Harry had been crushing over her since the first moment he started tutoring her, and after he’d told her, YN made him repeat it ever chance she got (“tell me what you thought the first time we met!” “i though you were unhinged” Harry always said, but after kissing the pout on her lips away he’d add “and very cute”), never missing his reddened cheeks every time he told her that.

“You could never be a bother, love! Come inside,” Anne moved a little sideways so she could make room for her to come in, “you know the way”, she said, gesturing to the staircase on the right.

YN nodded and thanked Anne as she made her way inside, toeing her shoes off and placing them neatly at the front door.

“I would offer you tea but I’m in a hurry!” Anne said, and YN watched her grab her coat from the hanger near the front door along with her phone and what YN guessed were her car keys.

“Oh, no need, I understand” YN smiled politely and at that Anne nodded, giving her a warm smile and closing the distance between them to encapsulate YN in a hurried hug.

“Bye, love, I’ll be back tomorrow morning after my shift.” She winked and YN blushed at the thought of being alone with Harry for a whole night, muttering a soft bye under her breath when Anne made her way out of the door.

YN, now alone in the Styles’ household, looked around herself, walking further in. She spotted their cat sleeping on the couch and she said hello to him too, deciding against petting him, she knew damn well that cat hated being woken up and she understood him completely.

She decided to wait for Harry in his room as she originally intended to, so she made her way up the stairs, stopping every once in a while to smile at the family pictures framed on the hallway walls.

Once she reached Harry’s door, she opened it and closed it silently, despite being alone, behind her back, taking a big breath once she was inside, his woodsy scent mixed with the fabric softener of his sheets lingering in the air around her, comforting her.

“I’ll just wait here,” she whispered to herself as she sat down on the edge of his bed, crossing one leg over the other, her hands intertwined in her lap.

She waited anxiously for Harry to come home as the minutes began to pass, and with the minutes the hours, and with the passing of the hours, her eyes started to get heavy and her breathing slowed, the book she had found on Harry’s nightstand (after she got bored of her phone), managed to keep her occupied only so much, boring her to the point of sleepiness (Harry and his pretentious books), and she curled on top of his covers, hugging herself to protect her body from the cold of his room (which wasn’t that cold, the cold she was feeling mostly due to her anxiety), slipping into a dreamless sleep as she waited for Harry to return.

YN awoke suddenly at the sound of a door slamming, and it took her a while to get her surroundings in, confused as to where she was.

After realizing she was in Harry’s room on his bed, she also remembered why she was in his room, and that quiet, confused state she’d woken up in subdued, leaving room to the dread of a conversation whom she couldn’t wait to have (and whom she knew Harry would avoid whatever it took).

She got up from his bed and made her way towards the wooden door, twisting the knob and opening the door hurriedly, eager to see him. Her ears where graced with a loud yelp coming out of Harry’s mouth, who apparently had made his way up the stairs and was in front of the door too, not knowing YN was on the other side.

“Bloody hell!” He shouted, his eyes widened with fear as he brought his hand’s palm against his chest, heart level “you scared me” he breathed out after he’d calmed down, surprised.

“What are you doing here?” He added, looking at her with his deep green eyes.

YN, however, couldn’t get the words out of her mouth as she took in the look of Harry’s face, scratched and bloody.

“What happened?” She whispered, furrowing her eyebrows as she raised her hand to point at his face. His cheekbone had a deep cut on it, the skin under it purple colored and turgid. His nose was cleaned now but YN could make out the faint stain of blood that seemed to have dripped down onto his cupid bow, turning his lips a bright red color. She lowered her gaze to his blue hoodie, and she frowned because she knew it wasn’t the one he was wearing on their date that morning.

“It’s nothing.” Harry brushed it off, making his way inside his room and heading towards the bathroom.

“It’s not nothing, Harry!” She snapped, following him inside the bathroom, “did someone do this to you? Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“No” he chuckled a humorless laugh out of his nose, “I did this to myself.”

“Don’t go all smartass on me, Harry,” she said, lowering her tone, “what happened?”

She watched as he opened the shower’s faucet to warm the water. He then proceeded to remove his hoodie, tugging it off his head and tossing it in the laundry basket.

“I need to shower now, can you get out?” He spat out, turning his head to glance at her, his eyes, lowered in tiny slits, had turned a dark green and his mouth was closed in a firm line.

YN had never seen him like that. It was the first time he asked her to get out while he showered, he loved hearing her talk while he showered, often asking her to repeat what they previously studied to see if she was really paying attention.

She muttered out a soft ‘okay’ and nodded, lowering her eyes on the floor and making her way out of the bathroom. She’d seen him naked plenty of times by now, but she was extremely respectful of his boundaries and if he didn’t want her there while he showered, she wouldn’t force him.

As she waited for him on her bed, she tapped her phone behind her to look at the time; it was a little past seven thirty, and she wondered whether she should text her mum to let her know she would spend the night at Harry’s. But she couldn’t help but wonder if Harry wanted her to stay the night or if he expected her to be gone when he returned from his shower.

She decided to tell her mum to not wait for her, hoping to make up with Harry by the time it was time for bed.

She didn’t know what was wrong with him, and she was worried he’d gotten himself in trouble. Harry was smart, but school was getting hard, and she’d seen that episode of Pretty Little Liars in which Spencer got addicted to amphetamines to keep up with school, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was the case (maybe she needed to stop watching so much tv)

Maybe Harry needed some extra help to get through finals and things took a bad turn?

She possibly couldn’t know.

She jumped a little when she heard the bathroom door snap open, the sound interrupting her train of thoughts, and she raised her head to look at Harry, the vapor from the hot water carrying around the scent of his body wash, permeating the room.

He walked to his dresser only with a towel wrapped around his hips, and YN didn’t miss the big purple bruise on his left hip as he lowered to fish out a clean t-shirt and sweats out of the dresser.

“Can we talk?” She whispered, breaking the silence that lingered between them. She knew from the start the conversation wouldn’t have been an easy one, but she possibly couldn’t have known he would’ve turned up looking like that! All bruises and cuts!

Harry shrugged as he turned around, “nothing to talk about.”

“Nothing to… nothing to talk about!” She exclaimed, tossing her hands in the air in defeat.

“I just said that”

“Harry, you’re- you’re…” She chose to ignore his remark and sighed, “do you need to go to the hospital? Did you at least disinfect the wounds?”

“I’m fine, Niall helped me” he mumbled, tossing the towel to her, which she caught with two hands before it could land on her face.

“Harry!” She laughed, tossing it back at him. YN averted her gaze as he stood naked in front of her, not knowing if he wanted her to look.

He let the towel fall on the ground as he lowered the shirt he’d previously picked out on his head, then he slid on his grey sweats and let them hung low on his hips, not bothering to tie them.

“Are you hungry?” He said, closing the distance between them with two strides to get in front of her.

She nodded and rose her head to look up at him better, her lashes fluttered as she felt herself squirm under his dark gaze. Her heart clutched in her chest at the sight of his face. Did he really think she’d let it go that easily?

“C’mon, then,” he lowered his hand to take hers in his, giving it a squeeze between his fingers.

“Wait.” She breathed out, grabbing his wrist with her free hand. Harry furrowed his brows, scared that she might want to open the conversation once again, but YN throw him a sweet smile and his gaze softened, “what?”

“Can we kiss a bit? I missed you” she whined, tugging his wrist to signal him she wanted him to sit on the bed with her. Harry complied and plopped down on the bed next to her, circling her waist with his arm and bringing her down on top of him as he lowered himself down on the center of the bed.

YN placed her palms on his chest to balance herself, letting out a squeal when he pinched her bum jokingly.

Harry raised his head from the pillows to meet her lips, but when YN’s mouth got closer to his, he lowered once again, YN’s lips following his. She whined when he avoided her lips once again and took the matter in her own hands, pushing her lips against his mouth in a tender kiss.

She gave him small pecks at first, but after a while she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and Harry sighed in her mouth; this gave her access to push her tongue inside to brush against his, and she caressed his tongue with hers, intertwining it. His mouth was warm and wet, and he tasted like the mint gum he’s always chewing, but YN swore she could make out the faint ferrous taste of blood on his lips.

YN loves kissing Harry. And YN thinks she must be drunk because she feels like she loves Harry, and not just kissing him. And she knows she’s supposed to talk to him. She knows she shouldn’t let it slide, and believe her, her heart shatters at the thought of someone hurting him. But he said everything was okay, and he said he didn’t want to talk. And YN loves him. And sometimes when you love someone you’re not ready to face the things that are hurting them.

When Harry started to feel himself get dizzy from the lack of air, he pulled away from her lips with a pop, not missing the whine that she let out, and when he opened his eyes, he laughed at the pout on her plushy lips.

“So greedy!” He exclaimed, swiping a thumb delicately to smooth the frown on her lips, and he couldn’t help the smile that twitched his mouth when YN puckered her lips and placed a gentle kiss against his finger.

“Look! There’s Styles”

YN turned her head hastily when she heard her friend Mia mentioning her boyfriend. Mia nodded towards Harry once she gained the attention of the others.

She furrowed her brows as she watched Harry walk towards his table, holding a water bottle between his fingers. She wondered if he had already eaten or if he wasn’t hungry.

YN’s lips twitched as she bit back the smile that was spreading across her lips. She had to cross her legs under the table to keep herself from just standing up and walk towards him, this private relationship thing was starting to get to her, and she didn’t know how much longer she could pretend she wasn’t in love with him.

His face still hadn’t completely healed and she frowned at that, but the bruise on his cheekbone was starting to fade and she thanked god the frozen peas she had pushed against the bruise while they watched tv had worked, otherwise she never would have heard the end of it.

“You got him pretty good” Mia laughed, elbowing in the stomach Logan, who was sitting right next to her.

“We sure did!” He answered, rising his palm so Aiden, another one of her friends, who was sitting across from him and next to YN could high five him.

Everyone laughed at that, everyone but YN, who stared at Logan with furrowed brows. She felt as if she was being left out of a game she didn’t want to play.

“What are you talking about?” She said, interrupting the obnoxious laughter that had erupted at the table.

“You know Styles?” Aiden nodded his head in Harry’s direction and YN followed the nod with her eyes, muttering a ‘yes’ through gritted teeth when she laid her gaze on his table, “He pissed me off the other day in class, so really, he had it coming”.

“He… he pissed you off?” YN said, trying to control her tone to not attract too much attention on their table.

“Harry corrected him” Amelia, who had been silently studying for her upcoming test, clarified, which earned her a glare and a muttered ‘shut up’ from Logan.

Amelia just shrugged and said “it’s not his fault you didn't know who wrote the Odyssey”.

“So you picked a fight with him?” YN exclaimed, still amazed by that exchange. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of her friends being the reason Harry was hurt. And to think she thought he was doing drugs! How could she be so silly!

“He barely fought back. He’s such a pussy” Logan chuckled, picking up his can of coke and chugging it down in one gulp.

YN’s face screwed up in a grimace at his words. She wanted to shout and toss the food in her plate at them, but even the school’s cafeteria’s food would be wasted on them.

“You were four against one” Mia rattled, shrugging her shoulders and chewing absentmindedly on her fork’s teeth.

“What’s with you two?” Aiden rolled his eyes, motioning towards Mia and Amelia.

YN felt frozen in place and she knew in her heart she wasn’t being fair to Harry. Her friends had said more to defend him than she did, what the hell was her problem? She truly couldn’t believe her own friends would do something like that. They were always nice to her, but, now she knows, that didn’t mean anything. She refused to believe her friends were the type of guys that were nice only to girls or girls they liked and not nice in general, but she was beginning to think that was exactly the case.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” YN whispered, shyly.

She wasn’t one to shy away from confrontation, but if it meant confrontation with Harry, because Harry never screamed at her and always took his time to hear her and understand her feelings, Aiden and Logan, she wasn’t so sure. Suddenly she was afraid of their reaction, and she took a big gulp, regretting her outburst.

“What was that?” Logan snapped his head towards her, and she knew once she took in the angered look on his face that he had heard her completely fine the first time.

YN throw a glance in Harry’s direction to make sure he was still there, and felt relieved once she spotted him talking animatedly with one of his friends, a blond guy she knew was called Niall. Of course, the cafeteria was swarming with students, but somehow she felt safe only with him around.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” She repeated, with more confidence this time. She felt confident in her motives. She was defending her boyfriend, and despite their relationship being private, she could feel herself shiver at the thought of someone hurting Harry ever again.

“Watch your mouth, YN” Aiden chirped in, warning her.

“No!” She shouted, “If you think hurting people is okay, I’ll have to ask you again. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“YN, calm down” Mia whispered once she noticed a couple of heads snap in their direction, tugging on her arm to gain her attention, but her eyes were focused on the boy sitting next to her.

She was fuming.

“I’m not calming down,” she said, throwing a quick glance towards her friend. She averted her chair behind her and stood up, all attention shifted on their table with the screeching sound of the chair falling to the ground.

“Fucking assholes!” She exclaimed, “did he hurt your little fragile ego when he corrected you? He hurt you so much you had to hit him?”

YN could feel everyone’s eyes on her but she didn’t care. Everyone in their school deserved to know what kind of people they were. She truly couldn’t believe she even associated with them in the first place!

“You are calming down” Aiden rose to his feet and enclosed her wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly against the soft skin.

YN whined a little and tried to free her wrist from his grip, but he only squeezed harder, and YN could feel his tight hold interrupting the blood’s circulation to her hand.

“Stop, you’re hurting me!” She squealed, tugging at her wrist once again.

Harry, who had been eyeing their exchange attentively, stood up from his seat and stomped angrily towards them, his friend Zayn following close behind him.

“What the fuck is going on!” He shouted once he reached them, and at this point YN knew they were putting on a show for everyone to watch.

“Harry it’s okay, just go” she whispered, scared they would hurt him again like they had before. She knew Harry would’ve never left her in a situation where she could’ve been hurt, but she wanted to protect him too, the best she could.

“Let her go” Harry said through gritted teeth, pushing against Aiden’s chest to make him loosen his grip.

Harry was taller than him and towered over him, but Aiden was such an asshole he wasn’t scared to fight guys bigger than him (Of course, Harry would say, he did that with an advantage of four against one).

“Look at that! YN has a fling with the freak!” Aiden laughed, taking a step back and releasing YN’s wrist from his hold.

YN brought her other hand up to massage the reddened skin of her wrist, to soothe it a little, and both Harry and her got distracted as they inspected her damaged skin.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Aiden pushed YN toward Harry and she stumbled a bit, but he managed to catch her before she could fall face first on the ground.

YN grabbed the fabric of his shirt to balance herself, and Harry squeezed gently at her biceps to calm her. She looked frightened and angry still, but Harry knew she had nothing to do with this. It’s him they had a problem with, and he was determined to end this once and for all.

“Not only you don’t know basic greek mythology, you like hurting girls too, ah?” Harry pushed YN behind him and she walked backwards a little until she stumbled against a body behind her. She turned and saw Zayn standing right behind her, watching carefully Harry’s every move, ready to jump in if Aiden played unfairly.

YN never really talked to Harry’s friends, but she was glad he had good people around him that were willing to get hurt to defend him. Just like she would.

YN turned her head once again to watch Harry, but this time he had grabbed the neck of Aiden’s shirt between his fingers, raising his other hand to punch him right on the nose. Then, Harry freed his shirt from his grip and Aiden stumbled backwards, falling to the ground while he brought a hand to his bloody nose.

“Fuck” he muttered under his breath.

After that, things got bad. YN barely remembers Logan making his way past her and Zayn and kicking Harry in his leg, making him fall on his knees. At that, Zayn ran to help his friend, throwing Logan on the ground and punching him repeatedly on his face.

The crowd around them had deepened and YN could make out the words ‘fight’ as her school mates shouted them, inciting what YN considered a carnage. She hated violence, and she hated that it was her fault the fight had erupted in the first place.

She isn’t lying when she says she was glad to hear the school’s principal run in the cafeteria, shouting the guys’s last names and finally breaking the fight.

Yn hurried down the hallway when she heard the school’s bell ring, smiling and waving at some of the people that said hi to her along the way. She made her way towards Mr. Smith’s class, sighing a breath of relief when she reached it.

She opened the door and peeked her head inside, smiling once she saw a mop of brown curly hair.

She closed the door behind her once she entered, and Harry peeked his head sideways from under the desk, sitting cross legged on the floor, a metal bucket sitting next to him.

“Are you almost done?” YN said, walking towards him.

“Almost” he nodded, continuing scraping under the desk with the scoop the janitor had provided for him. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of gum I’ve scraped. I think I’m never chewing gum ever again!” He added, tossing the dried gum in the bucket. YN scrunched her nose at the sight.

“I still can’t believe he punished you too!” She exclaimed, lowering herself so she could sit on the floor next to him.

“Yeah… well- I did start the fight” Harry shrugged, smiling at her once she was in his line of sight.

“You were just defending me” she shook her head, closing her lips in a pout.

“I know, but still” Harry shrugged once again, leaning his face towards hers to press his lips briefly against hers in an affectionate peck.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were the ones who punched you?” She whispered against his lips, and at her words, Harry pulled back from her mouth and went back to his work quickly.

YN frowned at that, worried she might have interrupted a nice moment between them with her big mouth, but after what felt like hours but were only seconds in reality, Harry said: “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose between them and me.”

She felt her chest warm with his words. She was satisfied with his answer and decided to let it go, she knew Harry didn’t like confrontation and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. She had gotten her answers that day in the cafeteria, and she had never — not once — looked back. She had Harry, and he was worth more than all her friends put together.

She watched him scrape gums for almost an hour, letting him chatter about this new dystopian book he had started to read and that he thought she’d like (she wouldn’t, but it’s the thought that counts, YN figures).

After he’s done, they stop before his locker to gather some textbooks he needed to study and to gather his things all together.

He’s handing the books to her as he fishes them out of his locker, asking her if she could hold them for him.

YN peeks at the last book on top of the pile she’s holding in her arms, and lets out a chuckle when she reads the title: Odyssey by Homer.

“Harry” she says, and he mumbles a ‘mh’ while he’s busy closing his locker with the combination of numbers.

“Tell me again what you said to Aiden”

“Babyyy” he whined dragging the end of the pet name, rolling his eyes lovingly at her, “you already know what I said!”

“No” she giggled childishly, “i don’t remember…”

“Fine” Harry sighed, turning around and grabbing the books from her hold, he gestured for her to start walking towards the entrance, so they could finally go home and relax after the long day they’d had.

“I said, not only you don’t know basic greek mythology, you like hurting girls too” he repeated his words, but his tone was much more flat now and less serious than it had been in the cafeteria.

She throw an arm around his neck to lower his face close to hers, and Harry widened his eyes and scrunched his nose at the sudden movement, puckering his lips anyway to meet hers in a brief kiss.

“You are so hot!”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles love on tour #harry styles #harry styles one direction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #boyfriend!harry #nerd!harry

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canirove · 1 year

Text

The Princess & the Football Player | Chapter 1

Summary: "They say they want to make the monarchy more modern, to be closer to the people, but then your parents would prefer it if you married a guy whose Godfather is the freaking Prince of Monaco, instead of a guy from Kingston." Or the love story between Princess Eleanor, heir to the British throne, and Declan Rice, English football player.

Author’s note: This story has been sitting on my drafts for maybe two months because I never was completely happy with it, and tbh, I still feel the same. Though sometimes those are the ones people like the most 😂 I got inspired to write it during the World Cup when people here in Spain went crazy about the idea of Princess Leonor and Gavi dating and him becoming the future King because she, apparently, is her fan and has a crush on him 😅 That's why on this story, the British Royal family has the name of the Spanish one 😁 Hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter

Masterlist

"Ok, ask me one more."

"Dad..."

"Just one more, please."

"Fine" I say, rolling my eyes. "Who is that one?" I ask, pointing at the papers he has on his hands.

"That's easy. Aaron Ramsdale, goalkeeper, plays for Arsenal."

"See? You know them all. Relax."

"I just want to do this right. You are the one into sports, not me."

"You'll be fine, you already know them all from the Euros."

"Yeah" he says, letting out a big sigh. "What about you? Are you nervous?"

"Why would I be?"

"You may be meeting one of your crushers."

"I don't have a crush on anyone on the national team."

"Oh, c'mon Eleanor. You watch all their games, you must fancy at least one of them."

"I don't" I shrug.

"Not even Mason Mount? I've heard girls think he is fit."

"That he is what?" I laugh.

"Fit. That's what Sophie says about boys who are handsome and attractive."

"Yes, Sophie. But not you."

"Why? Because I'm old?"

"No, because you are the King of England."

"Whatever" he says. "You don't like anyone, then?"

"No one. So you better not try anything or do what you did when we met One Direction years ago."

"What did I do?"

"Tell Niall Horan that I had a crush on him? That I had photos of him in my room?"

"Oh, yes" he chuckles. "But don't worry, I won't do it again. I learnt my lesson."

"You better. Just imagine that someone hears something and runs to the press with it. I can already see the headlines: Princess Eleanor in love with a football player. And they'll probably pick the worst option."

"Like Grealish."

"You said it, I didn't" I laugh.

"We've arrived, sir" our driver says.

"Good, good. Are you ready?"

"Ready" I say, taking a deep breath before we step out of the car.

As part of all the media events the national football team is doing before they travel to Canada for the World Cup, we are meeting with them to say our farewells and also give them a little something to remember the occasion. And when I say we, I mean my dad, King Philip of England, and I, Princess Eleanor, heir to the throne.

"Welcome to St. George's Park, your Royal Highness" Gareth Southgate says when we walk in. "The boys are waiting over here."

"Wonderful" my dad says. "How are they feeling?"

"Ready. They can't wait to get on that plane."

After a few words from my dad and the gaffer, it's time to give the players that little something we had for them: a shirt with their number and the name of all the players who have previously worn it.

"We'll do one each, ok?" my dad tells me.

"Ok."

We start calling each player, congratulating them and posing for a photo, everything going smoothly... until it doesn't. Until I froze in place when I find myself looking at the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen.

"Your Royal Highness" he says with a smile as breathtaking as his eyes.

"Hi" I reply, my voice sounding all squeaky.

"I was looking forward to meeting you."

"Me? Really?"

"Yes, ma'am. My mum is a big fan of yours, she says you are the best royal."

"Oh, she's too kind" I giggle. I giggled. Why did I do that? What am I, 12?

"Should we pose for the photo?"

"Uh?" I ask, still looking at him. How is he real? How is it possible that I had never noticed that Declan Rice was this handsome?

"The photo, Eleanor" my dad says behind me.

"Oh, yes, sorry. The photo" I repeat, trying to compose myself a bit.

"Big smiles... Perfect" the photographer says.

"Thank you" Declan smiles, taking the box where the shirt is, our fingers touching slightly but making me feel electricity through my whole body. And call me crazy, but judging by the way he looked at me when it happened, he felt the same.

Once we are done giving all the shirts, Southgate gives my dad and I a tour of St. George's Park, but I can't stop thinking about Declan. About his eyes, his smile, about the way that small touch made me feel. I still don't know how I managed to keep going, to be honest.

When we walk outside, some players are practicing free kicks on the training pitch, Declan among them.

"Eleanor, why don't you show these boys how it is done?" my dad says.

"What?"

"We all saw you training with the lionesses, ma'am. That right foot of yours can do things" Mount chuckles.

"But I'm not wearing the right shoes."

"C'mon, ma'am" Southgate insists.

"Ok, then. But if I end up breaking a window, or worse, my ankle... it is your fault" I say, making them all laugh.

"Ready, Rambo?" Rashford asks before shooting.

"Give me your best!" Ramsdale shouts.

"That was so good" my dad says when Rashford scores. "Your turn now, darling."

"Ma'am" Declan says, giving me a ball.

"Thank you" I reply, trying to avoid looking at him, my cheeks already getting hot. "Don't go soft on me, Ramsdale."

"I won't, ma'am" he says with that big smile of his.

"See?" I sigh after shooting and sending the ball far far away. "Wrong shoes."

"Try again" Declan says, putting another ball in front of me. "I know you can do it."

"Will you pay for the window I'm going to break?"

"And I'll carry you to the infirmary myself if you break your ankle" he smirks, making me feel funny things on my stomach, and my father clear his throat behind us.

"Ok" I whisper, trying to forget the thought of his arms around me and taking a deep breath, focusing only on the ball.

"I knew it!" Declan says next to me when the ball goes in, Ramsdale not being able to stop it.

"You believed in me more than I did."

"I've seen you play before, I know what you can do."

"You have?"

"Yep. When you were like... 15? You played a charity game in my area and my mum took the whole family to watch you. I remember that you scored and amazing free kick."

"Oh, wow. I don't know if I remember that day" I chuckle. "I'll have to check the photos back home. I may even see you."

"I didn't look this good, tho. You may not recognize me" Declan says with a cheeky smile.

"But you still had the same eyes, didn't you? Those are hard to miss."

"Thank you, ma'am" he replies, his cheeks turning a dark shade of pink. Did I just make him blush? Me? Oh, wow. "I also remember that I didn't expect a princess to play football like that."

"What did you expect, then?" I ask, raising a brow.

"I don't know" he shrugs. "Maybe that you enjoyed other type of sports, like cricket or that thing with the horses."

"Equestrianism."

"That one, yes."

"Posh sports."

"Yeah..." he chuckles, scratching the back of his head and making the muscles on his arm pop. Why did he have to do that when I was finally acting normal around him, maybe even flirting? Now I'm stuck again just looking at him.

"We must go, Eleanor."

"What?"

"It's time for us to go, the boys have to train" my dad says.

"Oh, yes, of course."

"It was really nice meeting you, ma'am" Declan says.

"You too."

"See you in Canada?"

"See you in Canada" I repeat

"Great" he says with a big smile that makes whatever I'm feeling on my stomach be more intense. "Until then."

"Bye" I say, definitely smiling like an idiot.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"That was nice, wasn't it?" my dad says once we are back in the car.

"Really nice, yes."

"Fell in love with any of them?"

"What?" I say, feeling my cheeks getting hotter and hotter by the second.

"I was only joking, relax."

"Oh" I reply with a nervous laugh.

"You are a clever girl. You know that you can't fall in love with a football player."

"Why not? You married mum and she was a journalist."

"One with a degree and a PhD, a serious career. These boys have nothing beyond money and being good looking. At least some of them" he chuckles.

"These days more and more players are studying while playing, tho" I point out.

"Still, it isn't enough. You are meant to be the next Queen of England. You must marry accordingly."

"Dad, this isn't the 15th century."

"I know, I know. But there are certain things that must still be kept in mind. So when you travel to Canada to support the team, do not fall for any of them, ok?" he laughs.

"Ok" I say, rolling my eyes and looking out the window, thinking that it may be a bit late for that.

#declan rice #declan rice fanfic #declan rice imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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louisisalarrie · 7 months

Note

Ooh, please tell me more about how Shiall today might relate to Larry? I’ve been keeping an eye on Niall, and I have so many thoughts, but I’m mostly just confused!

heya anon, and welcome to the show!

now, I want to start this off by saying I haven’t had much to do with the Shiall stuff, so I’m not an expert on it. But, here are a couple of my thoughts as to why this is an interesting turn of events, and what this means for larry.

so, it’s been pretty interesting seeing all the Shiall stuff online since the show happened. And well… I’ve seen a lot of larries/ziams also now start shipping Shiall, which is interesting, and while Shiall has never been as big as Larry or even Ziam, it blew up the fandom and even got headlines in the press. So… let’s have a deeper dive.

Now… people have believed in Shiall or at least entertained the idea of them together since at least 2017. It’s not a new thing whatsoever. But since the show of them performing together, it has become pretty huge. And there are a lot of solos reaaaaallllyyyy hating that, and it’s becoming a bit beefy between the niall girls and the shiall believers (which is yikes because can everyone just be nice to each other for a god damn second Jesus Christ) so it’s now dividing nialls otherwise pretty chill fandom. Which is new for him, and will be interesting to see how it’s handled. But so far in the press? It’s going well for him.

He’s gotten a write up in a few outlets which all have a similar headline of “Niall Horan Surprises Fans by Bringing Out Shawn Mendes at London Concert” (US Weekly). But, Rolling Stone really went all out here:

Now, I dunno about you… but adding “fellow lover boy” and “that’s my boy” to a headline 100% grabs attention and maybe implies a bit more than just pals. In my marketing and journalism experience/study, this would absolutely fall under seeding and somewhat subconsciously sways the reader into further curiosity about Niall and Shawn’s relationship.

What’s funny about this, is 1 week prior to the show, Elle posted this article out of quite literally nowhere. Shawn and Camila haven’t been spotted together since (to my knowledge) April of 2023 when they were photographed kissing at Coachella. So… why was this dropped a week prior?

Anyway, Niall is still signed to Modest mgmt, who we’ve watched control narratives and PR ops for the last 13 years. So, it’s safe to say we can see a bit of a pattern here, but it feels different this time too… right?

Niall’s mgmt would 110% know about the Shiall rumours. They’ve been around for over 6 years, and have continued to grow in popularity over the past couple of years particularly. It’s very obviously a topic that the fandom talk about, and that a lot believe in. So, to allow niall to bring on stage someone who his fans believe he’s actually dating as opposed to his “gf” who was also in the crowd that night (not that literally anyone cared lol) feels very freeing. Do modest and Niall not care about the rumours? Is it actually true and he managed to convince his team to let him do it in exchange of staying with his gf for longer? Or is it something entirely different?

Well… it’s a tricky one.

Modest have been well known to closet artists for years. We’ve seen it with larry, and other young men too. So, why the change of heart? Essentially encouraging rumours by giving this the go ahead, and rolling stone weirdly quickly posting that article with those particular words in the headline, why now?

It’s good PR, sure. It’s beneficial for Shawn to get back into the headlines more after not performing for 12 months, and gives nialls tour a bit of a boost. But i would argue that it’s encouraging Shiall. And I would also argue that modest have actively tried to squash gay rumours for years with larry (we will talk about the Union J shit show another time and just stick with larry for this) so it’s interesting that they’re encouraging it. But it’s been a pretty nice little test drive for larry, hasnt it?

In no way has Shiall divided the fandom to the same point as Larry, but the love we all saw for shiall (whether we believed in them being romantically linked or not, it was incredibly wholesome) from around the fandom was very loud. I saw a hell of a lot more positive chats than negative (and I looked deeper than just my timeline) and so it was pretty safe to say that it went well for the most part.

People are saying that niall might have done it behind his team’s back because Shawn was placed in Paris hours earlier, but that’s just a reminder of something we already know that we can’t trust photos to be released on the same day at the same time they are taken, but I think he’d get in a hell of a lot of trouble for that. So I’m not on board with that idea.

So I guess to put it down to a couple of options to sum this up:

a) modest has flipped the script and is okay with Shiall because they’re actually not dating (unlike how they handled larry because they were) and it’s all just rumours and niall and his gf aren’t bothered from it so it’s fine because it’s some good publicity

b) niall and Shawn actually are dating and his team is seeding a coming out, testing the waters with the fandom, perhaps try to encourage larry to sign with them again due to how “free thinking” they are now

c) nialls contract allows him to have more control over different aspects of his career so he was able to just invite him up there no matter what narrative is being pushed in his personal life

So… what’s this mean for larry and why have I rambled on for 3-5 business days?

Well…

Niall is dealing with the same rumours with Shawn as H and L do with each other. He is actively showing the fans that believing in a relationship between two dudes in fact doesn’t ruin their lives and families and their girlfriends are crying all the time, and he’s also showing other mgmt teams that you can do this shit without the world falling to pieces (aka the V*nes and Az*ff losers) whether or not it’s true. It’s a very small step in the right direction, but it’s a really good one. So I think yeah it’s important to see what this means for Larry and their next steps, because niall has made it look pretty simple. But I think we should keep watching this all very closely.

#anon #answered #louisisalarrie chats

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reikurusu · 4 months

Text

Ask Meme

I got tagged by the lovely @jalapenobee!! Thank you!! <3

Do you make your bed?

I neatly fold the cover open during the day so it can air out a bit? xD But when I go to bed, I always pull the mattress cover (whatever that's called in English) neatly because it often crumples up. But I don't daily make my bed, no.

What's your favorite number?

Not really.

What is your job?

I've worked at a local library for a little over a year now! It's really fun to do! I have to take care of the adult non-fiction section, which is more fun than I would've thought, as well as admin and helping people during opening hours. Right now, a colleague has been absent for 6+ months, so I've been taking on her section as well, which is youth (fiction and non-fiction) and comics. So quite a lot at the moment. But it's a really fun job!!

If you could go back to school, would you?

I'm not sure... I didn't hate going to school and it was actually a lot less stressful than adult life. I think I'd mainly go back to be my younger self again and maybe do things differently?

Or are we talking about going back to school at this age? If school was the only thing I'd have to focus on, and money and all didn't matter, I think so, yeah! Probably something creative or art history or something.

Can you parallel park?

I can.... But it's either perfect on the first try or I have to retry like 5 times. And if there's a car waiting while I'm failing... Yeah, we're going around the block again and try again afterwards.

A job you had that would surprise people?

I think my previous job. I worked in retail as a Saturday job during college. After graduation, I worked at a company for two years but I quit because it wasn't my thing and was lucky that the store I used to work at was looking for someone. I really liked working there and there was a lot of varied work (admin, window dressing, helping clients,...). But I feel like people at my current job (library) are surprised when I tell them I worked retail? I don't get it, though.

Do you think aliens are real?

Hmmmm... I don't think aliens like the stereotypical aliens exist, but there's no way the universe is this gigantic and Earth is the only place with life.

Can you drive a manual car?

It's the only kind I know how to drive. I've never driven an automatic car. I actually love shifting gears. It gives me something to do while driving, if that makes sense xD

What's your guilty pleasure?

Uhm... I don't think I have one? At least not something that no one else does? Nothing special comes to mind atm...

Tattoos?

None. I just have no idea what I'd want to have permanently on my body. So I doubt I'll ever get one.

Favorite Color?

Blue! All kinds of blue! But I really like a minty-blue, like this.

But lately, I've come to love yellow as well. I'm not sure why, but it's been making me happy for some reason.

Favorite type of music?

In general I either like a song or I don't like it. And because of this, my taste in music can vary a lot. I can like certain songs by a certain artist, yet despise the rest of their music.

As for favourite artists, I love Taylor Swift, The Script and Niall Horan. I think those are my top three artists (she says without any actual proof of it).

Do you like puzzles?

Like, riddles or jigsaws? If it's jigsaws, I haven't made one in years! I'd love to, with some music or tv show in the background, but I don't have the time for it. If it's riddles, yeah, I love riddles! Doesn't mean I'm good at them but I played my fair share of Professor Layton growing up!

Any phobias?

None that I know of. Like, I'm not a fan of creepy bugs and heights and blood and all those typical things, but I wouldn't call them phobias. Like, I'm not a fan of spiders, but I'd never kill one and just put it in a jar and take it outside. So nothing I'm insanely scared of.

Favorite childhood sport?

I don't think I had a favourite sport growing up? I'm not really the most athletic person. But I do know that I was decent at shooting basketballs into the hoop, even for being short lol

Do you talk to yourself?

... Do people not do this? I do this all the time??

What movie(s) do you adore?

I'm not sure if I have an actual favourite movie, but I love Tangled and The Lion King!! I also really love Back To The Future. *looks at dvds* OH! The Holiday and Love, Rosie as well!! I think these are all films I'm always down to watch.

Coffee or tea?

I'm definitely more of a tea person. I most often drink black tea with milk (like, at breakfast, in the evening and when I'm not at work, in the afternoon as well).

I also drink coffee but when I do, I have to have it with milk and sugar and often with some sort of syrup (vanilla, hazelnut or caramel). Or iced! Iced coffee!!

First thing you wanted to be when growing up?

I think I wanted to become a farmer? At least that's what my mum told me. I can't imagine being a farmer now, I think kid me thought it would be fun to have a bunch of animals and be outside all day. Grown up me knows it's very different from that. And very often not that nice for the animals...

Also a veterinarian! But.... Y'know, blood and cutting into animals... Pass.

I'm going to tag a couple of mutuals and followers I very often see in my notes, but obviously anyone who wants to do this, can!

And don't feel obligated to do this just because I tagged you! <3

@silversoulstardust @actually-the-devil @in-a-faith-forgottenn-land @keeeegs @aflockofravens @heytheredeann

#Thanks so much for the tag!!!#Tag Game

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writteninthesewalls28 · 7 months

Text

She got the man

A/n: This work is part of the "be my valentine challenge" by @bemyvalentinechallenge for the day 13 prompt.

Summary: Willow (reader) is fake-dating Niall Horan, but somewhere fell in love with him.

Warnings: none

"I need to talk to you." Were the words I heard when I answered the phone. And I thought, this was it. This was the end of our relationship.

But let me explain it.

Months ago, I started a relationship with the popstar Niall Horan. At least that´s what the media believes. Because behind closed doors, we were "fake dating" since I am an actress and pretty popular as well. It was the best solution to keep both of us away from any sort of rumour. But somewhere between the "holding hands for the media" and the "let´s go out for a coffee, just us too" I fell in love and had been scared of the day where he´d call it quit.

Turns out, that day was today.

"Yeah… you´re right, it´s time to quit this and move on" I said, pretending like I was completely okay with this. I am an actress, I can lie straight in your face and you won´t even notice.

Niall sighed and then suddenly said: "Willow, I wish I knew how to quit you."

"I totally get it, Niall. You don´t have to- WHAT?!" I first didn´t even realise what his words meant for us, for this relationship. "you- you don´t wanna… stop fake dating?" It would be wrong of me to just assume, he fell in love too. Because, you know, who would ever fall in love with me?

Niall chuckled. "Oh no, I want to stop fake dating, totally."

What is wrong with him, why is he such a dumb-

"I want to ´date´. With holding hands because we want to and kissing because we feel like it and spending time together because we like each other."

I could not believe what he said. "Is this real? Or are you playing with me? Please just tell me because I can´t-"

"I´m not playing, Willow. I fell in love with you." He said. I could practically hear the smile he had on his face because I acted silly again. He told me multiple times, how much he loved that side of me. "Please don´t tell me, you don´t feel the same…?"

Was he seriously still worrying about that?

"Of course I feel the same, Niall! I just was so scared to tell you!"

I grinned like someone just offered me my dream role in the re-make of my favorite movie The Greatest Showman.

He loved me. He literally shared my feelings.

"Sooo, how are we gonna explain this to our managers and friends?" I asked, seriously not knowing what to do now. I was a little overwhelmed with my emotions at this point.

"Don´t you worry about the managers, I got that already covered. Our friends… that´s a different thing."

----------------------------------------------------

We walked into the room, holding hands, hoping they´d notice right away and we didn´t have to explain anything.

But- well. It went a little different.

"Oh no. The media is here guys!" Louis called out when he saw our hands. We looked at each other, thinking the exact same thing. We actually had to explain it? Dang it.

"No, Louis. Don´t worry, no one´s here to take any pictures." Niall tried calming his band mate down, but instead made the situation worse.

"But- what else could be going on here then?" Harry then asked.

Boys. Why are all of them at least a little dumb. How come I didn´t think this through? Of course they wouldn´t get it.

I sighed and let go of Niall´s hand, for which I got a little pout from him. "Boys, we are together." No reaction, from no one.

And finally when Harry made a face, as if he realized what I meant, he crashed my hopes again. "ohhhhh, where are the cameras filming us?"

I exchanged a confused look with Niall.

"No, guys. You don´t get it" Niall tried again, but wasn´t successful. He just shook his head in disappointment.

Now Liam walked up to us, who didn´t hear anything of the previous conversation and saw Niall´s and mine interlocked hands.

"Oh, you guys finally realized it too, that you can stop pretending?" he said and gave us a smile.

More confusion from Louis and Harry.

But soon all of them felt happy for us and we celebrated our love with a little celebration. How great "fake dating" can be…

#bemyvalentine2024 #bemyvalentineno13 #quote #reader x niall horan #original character #maddys writing #maddys fics

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absoloutenonsense · 2 years

Text

Sunday Snippet <3

Hiiiiiii I’ve been in editing- and rewriting-land with my (almost) exes to lovers fic, which has been wonderful and frustrating and fun and awful (as writing goes). Thank you @kingsofeverything, @crinkle-eyed-boo and @uhoh-but-yeah-alright for tagging me in your snippets recently! It’s hard to share much of this one without spoiling something, but here’s a bit I was rewriting yesterday:

The limited interactions over the last 42 hours is why Louis is surprised to hear the hotel phone ring. He didn’t even think it was active.

He pauses the video and walks over to the nightstand, picking up the phone cautiously.

“Hello?”

“Fucking finally,” Perrie’s voice says. She lets out a heavy breath, one that sounds weighted with frustration and tension. “I’ve been trying to call you for hours now since I heard, but I think they put signal blockers around the hotel. I had to set up like six different VPNs for this to work.”

“Pez,” Louis sighs.

“How are you doing? What do you need? I can’t physically get you anything but I can bully someone else into doing it.”

Louis gives a short laugh. “Nothing right now. I’m just reviewing the footage, and I’ve got enough coffee in here to help. Right now at least.”

There’s a pause. “They let you see the video?” she asks, clearly surprised.

“Yeah,” Louis says. He nods and hooks a hand over the other elbow as he holds the receiver up to his ear. “I had to steamroll Horan into it, of course, but he gave in. I’m guessing because another girl got taken.”

“There’s another missing person?” Perrie asks, even more surprised than before, this time twinged with anger.

“He didn’t confirm,” Louis clarifies, “but he was checking on me and got a call. He put Davis on whatever it is immediately, so it’s gotta be more important, and I know that’s our missing girls. After that he let me have the footage.”

There is a longer pause this time, so long that Louis wonders if the call dropped.

“What footage are you looking at?” she asks.

Louis furrows his brows. “The bodega footage.” He pauses and listens to the way it’s so quiet on the other line. “What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing,” Perrie says too quickly. “Nothing, the bodega footage is what I meant.”

Louis narrows his eyes at the wall. That’s not right. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Noth—”

“Edwards, we do not lie to each other.” He pauses so he knows she’s listening. “You’re one of the only people I trust in the entire world. Don’t you dare.”

Perrie sighs. There’s an antsy pause then, like she’s wondering if she really has to say it or if she should try to lie again, before she says, “A USB was delivered to the Bureau via TaskRabbit messenger. It had a video on it. It was… it’s of Harry.”

Louis hangs up immediately, then picks the receiver up again, smashing the buttons as he dials the phone.

“Horan.”

At the sound of his voice, Louis absolutely loses it.

“You motherfucker,” Louis says — seethes. “You fucking asshole, shithead, motherfucking dic—”

“Fucking Edwards,” Niall mutters while Louis continues to cuss him out. “Tomlinson, calm down.”

“—lying, conniving, fucking-fuckhead—”

“Honestly, you can’t expect that I would have actually told you—”

“You’re supposed to be in charge,” Louis shouts. “You think this is leadership? You’re a fucking toddler in this job and you’re fucking everything up.”

“I am your boss, Tomlinson, you better reel it back, real quick.”

“Or what? You’re going to put me in lockdown and keep me entirely in the dark with what’s happening to my husband? The love of my fucking life is out there in trouble and you’re lying to me -- I’ll be however the fuck I want!”

“It’s because it’s you and because it’s your husband that I’m keeping you in the dark. If it were any other victim, any other spouse, we’d be doing the same thing as to not compromise the situation. Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean this isn’t protocol and I’m not doing my job. I am doing my job.”

Tagging you three back, and @disgruntledkittenface @daggerandrose @lululawrence @littleroverlouis @allwaswell16 if you have anything you’d like to share!

#louis tomlinson -- special agent in lockdown because his husband has been kidnapped #perrie edwards -- special agent who is a whiz at computers #niall horan -- special agent in charge; louis and perrie's boss #I am really excited to share this one (whenever I can figure out some things that are blocking me)#as usual jo will come in and save the day*#*the day = my fic #now just have to get it in a good enough place to share with her #thank you to NaNoWriMo for getting me to actually finish this #(almost) exes to lovers #~700 words (i think)

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truckreincarnation · 11 months

Text

Shadow of Your Former Self || Chapter 3 Motive

You are Sinéad Horan. You're not actually related to One Direction’s heartthrob Niall Horan, but the collective attention span of the internet means you can get away with claiming to be his distant cousin every now and then, and still reap all of the clout that comes with it. It's not like anyone is a social mediasochist enough to connect your Wattpad account to your life, right? You have a circle of loyal followers who hang onto your claims, vague enough that you won't be crucified if they ever call your bluff, and believable enough that they want more. Life is good.

You are Krishnamoorthi Praveen. Ever since your relatives convinced you to get on Facebook, you’ve been obsessed with MouseHunt. There’s just something about the fun of collecting all the different variations of mice out there that tickles that competitive part of your personality, to the point you have published online guides about how to best exploit the Hunting Horn with cheat tools. Your mother disapproved of your addiction until you won a full scholarship to MIT for your programming work, and now she talks about you to anyone who will listen.

You are Declan McInerny. You've played soccer for the last ten years ever since your father proclaimed to his drinking buddies that you were the next coming of Ronaldo, and while you now get that he was only doing the dad thing and hyping you up, it's stuck with you enough that your first professional match has been scheduled for next weekend. If all goes well, you'll be substituted in during the second half, and maybe you'll get close enough to a goal to talk about the experience, and then people will start subscribing to your YouTube channel in earnest.

You are Reina. No one knows what your real identity is, but you’re a cosplayer with aspirations of going to Japan, and you’re probably in Europe based on when you say you’re going to sleep. You own two cats that you adore, and have a step-sister that’s younger than you by either two or three years after your widowed mother remarried. You have saved up money by attending community college, you own a bicycle, and you enjoy clubbing on the weekends because of the local music scene. One day, the cosplay community will know your name… At least, that’s what anyone has publicly ever found about you, and you think only about half of it is actually true.

(cw: implied transphobia)

You are Adrian Udella Susanto, and for the last few years, you’ve been sharing your journey of transitioning with people who genuinely support you. Well, there’s no way to tell how genuine they actually are, but it’s more than what your ex-parents have done, especially since they’ve disowned you over the summer holidays. It’s fine, there’s no love lost, and it’s worth being able to express yourself without the fear of being caned. Recently, you’ve had your eye on someone, and you really hope that they’ll understand and accept you for who you are too.

(end cw)

You are LMFAO4evafangirl20, or as you’re better known to your circle of friends, Yong Weiqi. You think that the news of them taking an indefinite hiatus is the dumbest thing you’ve heard, and now that it’s been over a year, you’re starting to dread that they’re never actually coming back to party rock again. At least you can be sure that Smosh will never split apart, right?

You are Madelyn Somerville, but your friends call you Lyn, and your new boyfriend calls you his lovely madeleine. It's a little cheesy, but you tolerate it because he adores you so much that he buys expensive gifts for you every weekend. This time, it's a pretty pearl necklace that's worth more than what you can ever hope to earn in a year, and you make sure to reassure both him and your followers that no, he's not just your sugar daddy this time, this loving relationship is very real. You hope they all understand you mean it too.

You are Chieze Iwuji, and you're the first of your family to go to a university. Canada is far away from your home back in Nigeria, but your father is determined to give you the best education he’s never had, and he doesn't begrudge you for feeling lost. But your sister does begrudge you, and you can't blame her; despite the fact she's older than you by half a decade, you're the first and eldest son, and thus the recipient of all the wonderful opportunities that are denied to her. You haven't spoken for two years now, and it hurts, it hurts to lose that part of your life because of choices outside of your control. You know what this degree will do for your future, but you just wish she understood there was a place in that future with you.

(cw: terminal illness, existential dread)

You are Kazunari Aikawa, and your life could end today. That is the reality you have lived with ever since you were diagnosed with a malignant spinal cord tumour months ago, but you have yet to give up hope. You make sure to vlog every afternoon you continue to shoulder the agony, to document every exercise, every procedure, every kind smile you can give in spite of the pain. You sign off each video with an earnest wish to meet again the next day. You understand that the streak of daily uploads to your channel might be cut off without warning one day, and there will be nothing you can do about it when there is already very little you can do about yourself. But as long as that record survives, as long as it might help one other person find their strength to persevere against all odds, you'll be happy. You're getting married tomorrow; this weekend, if you live that long, the laminectomy that will decide your fate. You're as ready as you can be.

(end cw)

BEEP!

The alarm sounds. It’s 7am, and soon, your father will be awake to make breakfast. You aren’t expected downstairs, but you go anyway because your family is the one part of your life that you don’t want to escape from. You forcibly pull yourself out of your own headspace, and start to close the hundred different tabs on your browser: the Facebook pages, the Pinterest boards, the burner accounts that you’ve made to follow and learn more about each individual life as an unknown, unseen presence on the internet.

Eternally, occasionally gratefully, overshadowed by the stories of people far more interesting than you ever will be.

You step into your bathroom to wash your face, and tired, grey eyes stare back through glasses. You are Vivian Lockwood once more, and as you do every morning, you try to remind yourself that these invasive, nonexistent, parasocial relationships have to end somewhere.

They never do.

#ch3 #motive #vision #vee

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1d1195 · 2 years

Note

Thank you for the answer! I was just wondering if you could do one with Niall Horan where he helps when having trouble going to sleep. Also I understand what you mean so if this doesn't spark anything no harm done! Just keep writing what makes you happy! 😊

Omg a Niall request, you got it! It's not very long, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thank you for messaging me!

Niall woke up to the blankets rustling aggressively. Blearily, he blinked his eyes open against the dark and he turned to look at the cause beside him. "Hey, princess," he whispered softly.

She sighed angrily stilling her frustrated movements immediately. "Sorry, Ni," she answered bitterly. Of course she woke him up when he had an early flight. This was so unfair to him.

"What's wrong, love?" He asked.

"Can't sleep."

He nodded and blindly reached out for the tired girl next to him he pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her body. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and kissed the crown of her head. "S'wrong?" He repeated quietly. His eyes drooped shut but he would stay awake to keep her company.

"M'nervous," she whispered.

"Hmm?" He hummed in response. "About what?"

She was so quiet for a minute that Niall wished his brain was functioning a little more quickly in the wee hours of the morning. It was pitch black in their room so it couldn't have been past two. He would have to leave at five for his flight and she planned on driving him. Who knew how long the poor girl was fighting whatever was wracking her brain with anxiety. "You," she murmured.

"Me?" He repeated his brain a little more alert. The silence stretched on and felt as dark as the room. "Princess," he urged.

"M'sorry," she whimpered and sniffled.

"Oh, love," he sighed and tightened his grip around her. He blindly reached for her face, touching her cheeks and pushing the tears away with his thumbs. "No," he said softly.

"What if you meet someone prettier than me?"

"S'literally impossible, princess," he said easily.

"What if she's nicer than me?" She asked. He shook his head and sighed. "Ni, these are real worries I have, please humor me," she begged sniffling.

"My love, you are being ridiculous," he said. "I'd entertain the thought if your worries were serious." She continued crying and he massaged her back with one hand while pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"You're going to be busy and not have time to talk to me," she whispered. "And I'm going to get all in my head and even if she's not prettier or nicer than me, I'm going to worry because..." she swallowed. "I mean look at you," she reminded him.

He smirked and shook his head. "M'never too busy for you, princess."

"Ni, please be serious," she said with shaky exhale. He sighed because he would be busy and it would be long lengths of time between text messages. It would be late at night for her and the middle of the evening for him. They would have trouble finding time to talk as much as he wanted to.

"Do you trust me, princess?" He asked.

"With my entire life," she promised.

"I won't break your heart," he said. "I'd rather die."

It was quiet. "Will you at least tell me if you meet someone better?" She asked.

He sighed. "You're insane," he said quietly. He reached for his phone blindly, the screen so bright it hurt his eyes. He noted it was just after 12:30 so there was still plenty of time to sleep. Just that the poor girl would only be getting four or so hours. He opened his alarm clock and started scrolling through settings.

"What are you doing?" She wondered.

"M'setting alarms to text you," he said.

"Ni," she whispered.

"No, look. If I have time to text you, I will. But this will be a fail-safe," he explained. "Morning, noon, and night. Course it won't be morning, noon, and night for you, but maybe you could do the same?" He suggested.

She was so quiet for a moment and Niall turned to see her pretty face, even soaked with tears, illuminated by the blue light of his screen. "You do really love me, don't you?" She asked.

"Are you only just noticing, princess?"

She sighed. "No..."

He smirked and put his phone aside. "M'going to miss you so much. M'going to be miserable. Already counting down the days to when you're coming to visit," he explained. "It's only twenty six days," he told her.

"Don't be miserable," she said softly. "Maybe like a little heartbroken," she suggested. He smirked against her hair.

"Y'know, love; if anything I should be worried about you. I mean..." he shook his head. "You could totally find a guy that's around and cuter than me."

"Is this some way to make me realize I sound ridiculous?" She asked.

He laughed. "No, but did it work?" It was silent again. The minute stretched on. Niall thought about how awful it was going to be, separated from this sweet love that he adored so much. No snuggling at night, no talking past midnight, no kisses, no whispers...

"Ni, I don't want anyone that isn't you," she breathed out quietly.

"I know, princess," he said softly. "Me too."

She nuzzled her face against his chest and then kissed his skin before finally feeling like she could rest. "I love you, Niall," she whispered.

"I love you, princess." Finally, Niall closed his eyes and hummed quietly for a few moments. No words escaped his lips but she knew the notes to If I Could Fly from anywhere. It soothed her right to sleep where she dreamed of the boy holding her tight and never letting her go.

#niall #niall horan #niall horan writing #niall horan fluff #niall horan blurb #niall horan imagine #niall horan x reader #one direction #one direction writing #one direction imagine #one direction fluff #one direction blurb #niall horan fic

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sourholland · 3 years

Note

Some timothee fluff pleass :)) love your work !!

Cake || Timothée Chalamet

Summary → You go live on Instagram and bake a cake. Timothée comes home halfway through and doesn’t realize you’re live-streaming.

AN → This is just pure fluff tbh, a little short but pure fluff

Pairing(s) → Timothée Chalamet x Fem!Reader

Warnings → Strong Language

Word Count → 900

You stepped back, pressing the ‘go live’ button on your Instagram. In the shot behind you was your oven and white countertops, a few plants, and the earthy green cupboards.

Since you had done 73 questions with Vogue, your New York City penthouse apartment had become sort of famous. Everyone had absolutely died over your kitchen, adoring the many plants and bronze pots and pans hanging from the ceiling.

You were dressed in a pair of white flowing pants, overtop of it was a simple black tank top and a grey zip up that belonged to Timothée.

Within the first few seconds, thousands of people had joined the livestream. Comments began to flood in, some of them making you laugh while you leaned in to glance at the phone you’d sat against the counter. There were dozens of remarks just on the atmosphere of your apartment.

It was heavily raining outside, a thick smog covering the city. You had lit candles all throughout your’s and Timothée’s shared space. He didn’t mind the crystals scattered around, resting on windowsills and shelves. He quite often asked for you to read his tarot cards, loving the way you would sit crisscross in front of him on the carpet and explain what everything meant.

userone: im so fucking in love with you

usertwo: where’s timmy????

userthree: make a tiktok pls

You scrolled through comments, laughing at a few, making sure not to dwell on some of the harsher ones. You smiled at the few familiar friends joining the live, exchanging a bit of banter as you grabbed some ingredients out of the fridge.

“Okay—so, as you all know, I’m no chef,” you snorted, holding up the box of cake mix. “All it needs is like eggs, water, and oil—I figured I couldn’t really fuck that up.”

florencepugh: i’m disappointed y/n

oliviarodrigo: you’ll find a way y/n/n

“Flo, I’m sorry,” you whined, drawling out the y.

The soft hum of Fleetwood Mac played in the back, Spotify just barely visible behind you on your laptop. Timothée was out, and you had tried to occupy yourself, finding nothing better to do than bake.

You cracked the eggs into the large plastic bowl, grinning at the phone in the process. You couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that someone would turn these clips into an Instagram edit.

userfour: i love u sm

userfive: how do u look so effortlessly good tf

usersix: i love ur kitchen stoppppppppp

userseven: bi panic

“You guys are hysterical—shit, I think I almost put too much oil in,” you said in a hushed tone.

lydianight: NOT U LITERALLY FUCJING UP CAKE OUT OF A BOX PLEASEEE

odessaazion: ur literally so hot y/n even if u can’t make food for shit

userseven: LMAOO DID SHE EVEN READ THE BOX ???

“You guys have no faith in me,” you said, chuckling as you whisked. “It’s disheartening, really. I’m hurt!”

You jokingly placed a hand on your heart, pretending to cry. You had bits of the packaged cake mix on your cheeks, hair pulled back and out of your face. The pan was greased in front of you, This Town by Niall Horan coming on behind you.

You were so focused on getting the clumps of chocolate powder separated that you hadn’t even heard the jangle of keys at the front door, or the sound of it shutting. You held the bowl up to the camera, nodding that it looked good enough.

You yelped when a pair of hands slid over your hips, pulling them back and making you jump. Timothée turned you around a moment later and cupped the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a quick kiss. He was in a grey hoodie and black joggers, hair skewed about under a navy blue baseball cap and slightly wet.

“If the whole world was watching I’d still dance with you,” he mumbled, spinning you around in a playful dance a moment later.

“Didn’t hear you come in,” you giggled at his swaying motion.

“Yeah? I yelled your name,” he pecked your lips in between each word.

usereight: im gonna go cry now

usernine: tell me ur single without telling me ur single

userten: fuck that’s so cute

usereleven: AND NIALLLL STOP

“I’m on live,” you said, watching him look over at the phone and awkwardly wave.

“Shit, why didn’t you tell me?” He chuckled, dipping a finger into the cake mix before you could swat his hand away.

He sucked on his index finger a moment later, ignoring you as you hit him a few times with the oven mitt at your right. He snatched the wooden spoon not far from him and held it up with a wide grin.

“You sure about that?” He mused, waving it in the air.

usertwelve: when they hit each other with kitchen suppliesssss

userthirteen: i’ll never be over this

“Was the cake mix any good, at least?” You couldn’t help but ask, watching him take off the hat, ruffle his hair a bit and then put it back on.

“I love you—but it tasted like shit,” he barely got out, running as you started to swat him with the mitt again.

userfourteen: god im so alone

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet imagines #timothée chalamet imagines #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagine

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moonvis · 3 years

Text

Just imagine

Harry Styles x reader

Summary: You and Harry read funny One Direction fanfics together.

Warnings: humour, fluff.

Today was another laid back day where you and Harry would stay in and watch movies and cuddle. While you waited for him to finish his shower, you laid on the sofa, scrolling trough Tumblr. You probably had the biggest fan blog for your boyfriend and his band, posting gifs of the boys weekly. Harry found it cute.

Whenever a fanfic popped up, you would simply scroll past it. For you, it felt kind of weird reading about your boyfriend from a fan’s dreams, but you didn’t judge them. You would’ve probably written fiction about him if he wasn’t already yours.

You stopped scrolling when you saw a funny picture of Niall, giggling at your friend’s grimace. You couldn’t help but read the short text attached:

Imagine Niall Horan crawling inside your ear. You tell him to stop but he’s in there.

“What the hell?” You said out loud, slamming you hand to your mouth. You couldn’t hold back your laughter at what you just read.

You had heard about fans writing weird one direction fiction, but this was something else. How did someone even come up with this. You didn’t hesitate to comment on the post, and reblogging it with the caption, ‘I deadass love this! I need more!’

Getting an idea, you went to google and searched ‘Funny One Direction Imagines’, squealing in excitement as you saw the search results. There were so many more! You sat up straighter in the sofa, preparing to laugh your ass off.

Just as you tapped a photo, Harry entered the room and plopped down beside you. He put his arm around you, placing a quick kiss to your forehead, “I heard your laughter from the bathroom. What’s so funny?”

You grinned at him, more excited now that he was here to read the imagines with you. You showed him your phone screen and explained, “I stumbled across some funny as’ One Direction imagines. Wanna hear one?”

Harry chuckled at your excitement and pressed you to his body, and laid you back against the sofa, “Go ahead.” You laughed as you read the next one:

Imagine Harry trying to hold his laughter when he sees you trip and break your neck.

Harry had to laugh, a slightly confused expression on his face, “What is this?” You shook your head, staring down at the picture of 2013 Harry laughing, “I have no idea, but I love it.”

You moved your head up to meet his eyes, a cheeky grin on your lips, “Sweet of you to at least try and hold in your laughter.”

Harry rolled his eyes and took your phone from your hands. It seemed he was just as eager to read the imagines as you. Your eyes went back to the phone, and yet again, the two of you had to laugh:

Imagine going on a date with Niall and he accidently push you off the bridge and you fall into the water. You drown.

“Now, that’s one way of rejection someone.” Harry suggested, making you think of the Irish man in the Imagine. “I might have a talk with Niall… Now, please don’t murder me if you dump me one day.” You looked back up at Harry with innocent eyes.

He shook his head, before kissing your lips. When the let go, he spoke against them, “Dumping you isn’t even a relevant topic darling.”

“I know.” You smiled against his lips, before turning back to your phone in his hands, “I’d murder you before you got the chance.” You said the last sentence in a whisper, making Harry snap his head down at you. You just giggled before tapping another imagine.

This had to be the best one yet:

Imagine you had a front teeth transplant. You come out to find harry and scream “Harry I made it out alive!” Harry smiles and says, “Who do you fink gave you the teef?”

“Oh, my gods!” You laughed out loudly, with Harry groaning as he saw the picture of himself. He couldn’t help but chuckle though, “Who did this?”

“I have no idea, but your fans are the funniest in the world!” You pushed yourself a little up from Harry’s body, turning to face him properly, “And very creative.”

“They sure are.” Harry agreed before taking another look at the picture of himself, “But these pictures, they’re-”

“I like them. Now I know what to expect when your teeth start to fall out,” You grabbed your phone back, unable to hold back your wheeze at the sight of Harry’s facial expression, “You’re cute.”

“You mean when I’m old? My curls will turn into a bold moon head, and my face will be covered in wrinkles,” Harry grabbed you by the waist, making you put your phone on the table, “Don’t sound so cute.”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, sliding your hands around his neck, “You’re always gonna look cute.”

THE END

Note: The short ‘one direction imagines’ I’ve used in this are found on google, so I don’t claim them.

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atruththatyoudeny · 3 years

Text

Happy 28th! Here are the fics I read and loved in January. Thank you to all the authors for sharing your work with us ♥

I’m so glad we pricked each other. | snappyeagle | strangers to lovers - cactus - 2k "This might hurt a bit so you can bite down on this," says Harry as he grabs his scarf off of his head and offers it to Louis. "It might be a bit sweaty but it is all I have at this moment and we really need to get those needles out of your arm," Harry states sympathetically. "Thanks, mate. I'm sure it will be fine, I'm used to this kind of foreplay," Louis jokes out to Harry as he grabs the scarf, balls it up, and places it in his mouth. OR the one where Louis to Home Depot and Louis gets knocked into a bunch of cacti while trying to find a birthday present for his sister. ***FEATURING*** Harry the unfortunate Home Depot employee who knocks into him and happens to know first aid

Forever Never Comes | Larry_you_know | historical - 19th century - victorian - nobility - friends to lovers - childhood friends - angst - secret relationship - fake/pretend relationship - first love - first time - 25k Victorian au, where Harry Styles, the youngest son of the Duke of Sutherland, was always a little in love with his childhood friend Louis Tomlinson, the young Earl of Doncaster, though he would never have told him in a million years. Especially since Louis never showed him any signs of romantic affection. But now Louis has invited him (and his sister Gemma) to London, and many things may not be as they have seemed.

Could We Be Such Fools | LiveLaughLoveLarry | Nick/Harry - endgame larry - enemies to friends to lovers - infidelity - cheating - healing - hurt/comfort - emotional hurt/comfort - break up - - 27k Louis lets out a long breath. “This is Louis Tomlinson.” There is only silence for a long moment. When Harry speaks again, his voice is low and dangerous. “You’ve got some nerve-” “I probably do,” Louis says. “And I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you hung up on me right now. But you deserve to know the truth, so I had to at least try.” Harry snorts. “The truth, is it?” he says. “That’s an interesting idea. What’s the ‘truth,’ then? Are you going to tell me about how my fiancé is just too irresistible, about how you love him more than I ever could, about how you deserve him?” “No,” Louis says honestly. “I definitely don’t deserve him -- and neither do you. We both deserve way better.”

To Will, To Wander, To Want, To Wonder | LadyLondonderry | royalty - fae and fairies - kidnapping - rescue mission - a/b/o - 5.6k Dear Sir, I am aware that you may not know who I am, but I am writing this letter in order to beg for your assistance. Nine years ago, someone dear to me was kidnapped by a collection of fae, who scorched the earth in their wake. They have imprisoned him in a castle in the North Kingdom, for the sins of his parents, and no one has seen him since. I have spent nine years desperate to find a knight brave enough to face off against these fearsome fae, and I understand that you may be willing to help me in my quest. Few have been willing to help, and all who have, have returned empty-handed. I implore you to seek for the goodness within your heart, to help my dear friend. I miss him profoundly. Yours, Niall Horan, Duke of Penworthy Or, Louis Tomlinson, Omega Crown Prince, goes on a quest.

Seven Simple Words | jacaranda_bloom | exes to lovers - past friends with benefits - coworkers - love confessions - pining - angst - smut - 15k It’s not like he and Louis were a couple. No, they might have been a lot of things—best mates and colleagues with a seemingly convenient friends-with-benefits arrangement—but never a couple. It wasn’t Louis’ fault he didn’t feel the same way and couldn’t reciprocate Harry’s feelings in the way he’d wanted, the way he’d needed. Harry had allowed himself to get in too deep, his entire being aching to be loved back by the object of his affections. But in love, as in life, you don’t always get what you want. OR the one where you don’t always get what you want the first time around, but sometimes the universe decides to give you a second chance at getting it right.

Flycatcher | everysingleday | emotional hurt/comfort - angst - established relationship - childhood friends - friends to lovers - depression - healing - hopeful ending - no smut - implied disordered eating - 17k The stretch of days that follows Louis’ contemplation of the dead oak happens to be one of the stretches in which his insomnia pays off three, four, five days in a row: each night, there’s a boy in his bed, eyes closed against the world, glued to Louis’ body and begging him, “Please, please, I need you.” And Louis is terrified that this time he might finally break. This time, he might start sobbing in the middle of comforting his best friend, his lover, who can’t talk to him anymore unless he’s feeling so flayed open from the sadness that it loosens his throat and his mind enough to allow the words through. Louis doesn’t know what’s going on anymore. He lost the plot a thousand unreturned I love you’s ago. “I love you,” Louis tells him and holds him down while he cries.

And When It's Time | larryftnoctrl | soulmates - soulmate-identifying timers - Harry/OMC - getting to know each other - 6k Louis wants a soulmate, Harry loves his free will. They don't exactly go hand in hand. Prompt: AU where you have a countdown on your wrist for when you're going to meet your soulmate and if you miss it the time will reset. Louis/Harry keep having awful luck and always are missing their time until one day they don't. Maybe the other one is scared/has anxiety about meeting their soulmate? Maybe one time they're in a relationship so they intentionally miss their time? Who knows! But they finally meet :D

Christmas Always Finds Me | lovelarry10 | Christmas - fluff - kid fic - babysitting - flatmates - pining - smut - 56k Harry blinked slowly, realisation dawning on him. “Gemma, no…” “Keira can’t stay. Her sister just had a baby, and she’s got a train booked. Harry, I wouldn’t ask if I had another choice, but I need you to take Logan…” “Gemma! My fucking holiday… you know I’ve been looking forward to it, and so has Lou…” “I know, Harry, I really do. And I’ll pay for another one, I promise. You can pick anywhere you like, somewhere better than bloody Magaluf, but believe me, I wouldn’t ask if I had an alternative. I’m so sorry.” ══❆❅══╡°˖❅❆❅˖°╞══❅❆══ Harry and Louis have big plans for Christmas. Neither is into the idea of celebrating, so they book a holiday to sunnier climes. However, fate has other plans in the form of Harry's ten month old nephew Logan...

Trading Sins For Treason | jaerie | Captive Prince fusion - rape/non-con elements - a/b/o - knotting - breeding - slavery - Styles twins - non-consensual touching - non-consensual bondage - kidnapping - blood and injury - false identity - public sex - public claiming - deception - rival sex - intersex omegas - non-consensual violence - manipulation - non-consensual drug use - 28k In the end, there had just been too many soldiers and he had been caught off guard. The men had exploited a weakness Harry didn’t know he had, a weakness his brother would recognize. He had trusted his family, he had trusted tradition. It had only gained him the cuffs around his wrists and the chains that held him in place while they brought in one omega before the next in a pattern that grew routine. The only factor on his side was that Prince Louis had weaknesses too and Harry was more than willing to exploit them. Or a Captive Prince inspired AU

say forever, you'll be mine | dilfrry | strangers to lovers - feminine Louis - daddy kink - first dates - flirting - smut - 12k Louis’ delicate fingers flip one of the pages over on the clipboard, eyes scanning the document quickly. “What do you do for work?” Louis then asks, eyes still looking down. Harry clears his throat, his leg bounces making the tables creak from the movement. “I’m a trucker,” he starts and Louis lifts his head, eyeing him. “Like, a transfer truck driver? I transport goods to companies, shit like that.” He cringes as he easily swears, it feels out of place in the soft atmosphere. “I see…” The petite man purses his lips up, Harry sweats under his gaze… or the trucker harry fic i wrote for my own guilty pleasure

we are honey and the bee | soleilouis | AU - 41k It isn’t his fault though, it is entirely the fault of whichever gods thought it would be a good idea to taunt Louis by dangling a curly haired boy in front of him with a mouth that can’t possibly be as soft as it looks, a mouth that requires further inspection with Louis’ own mouth. Unfortunately, Louis absolutely cannot do that, because it would go against all rules and guidelines in the Golden Handbook of Nanny and Employee Etiquette that he’s pretty sure exists. au where harry plays rugby at uni, louis needs to hire a nanny, and life is one big cliche.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #monthly fic rec #monthly reads #my reads #larry fics #completed fics

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wherethingscomebackx · 4 years

Text

Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!! As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

#larry #larry stylinson #larry fic rec #harry styles #louis tomlinson #fic rec #one direction #1d #one direction fic rec #larry fan fiction #updated because I'm an idiot and added a zarry fic

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

Text

We’ve Got Your Back (Alpha!Christen x Reader)

Request: Alpha christen press fic😍 and does it make me a horrible person cuz I want to see what christen would do to Hinkle? (Not to mention broon, uncle, ash....)

Pt. 1

Author’s Note: So this turned out a touch different than i had planned. Let me know what you think!

It was strange being back here. Back in the city, the stadium, that had almost been the sight of your demise. At least they had stuck the team in the visitor’s locker room. You didn’t know if you could have handled being back in that room.

You rolled your shoulders and tapped the ball back towards Lindsey, sending the alpha a tight smile and trying to drown out the sea of unpleasant emotions threatening to pull you under.

It was a stupid idea for Us soccer to have the team face off against the NWSL Allstars. You were part of the NWSL for goodness sake, it wasn’t like you didn’t play against these people already. It also meant you had to play against Her in the stadium she tortured you in.

“How you holding up?” Christen asked, suddenly coming up behind you. She grabbed your clenched hand, coaxing your fingers open and intertwining them with her own. She let out a wave of her calming scent, trying to soothe you as much as she could with minimal contact.

Though the two of you had… consummated your matting, and despite your normal cocky flirting, the two of you really weren’t into public displays of affection and there were thousands of eyes on you right now.

You hadn’t even realized you were digging your fingernails into your palms.

“Great now that you’re here hot stuff,” You tried to smile convincingly back at your mate, squeezing her hand tightly. She let out another wave of her calming scent, her eyes flickering around your face.

One of the first lessons she had learned from Rose was that you never said when you were uncomfortable, but your tells always gave you away.

“Always the charmer,” Christen said, a light blush covering her cheeks.

You smirked at the alpha, shrugging. “It’s hard not to be when you always come out here looking like that”

She rolled her eyes at you, entirely used to your flirting. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that it was a coping mechanism for you. Whenever you were stressed or uncomfortable, your flirting intensified.

It was a way for you to avoid your true emotions.

“I’m literally wearing the same outfit as the rest of the team,”

You pulled your blushing alpha closer to you by your connected hands. You ran your nose over her cheek “Hmm, but the rest of the team doesn’t have the-,”

The comment died on your lips when you caught sight of a certain alpha. You tensed even though she was stuck on her half of the field, separated from you by nearly the entire squad and the team of “Allstars”. But none of that had mattered last time. It hadn’t mattered that you were in a room full of people (nearly half of which were your national team teammates) or that the coaching staff knew what she was doing.

Christen’s eyes followed yours, and she couldn’t suppress her growl (both for the other player being included in this game and the unpleasant emotions fluttering through your bond).

“Vlatko swapped us, so you can stay on the left today. I’ll take the right and Alex will stay center,”

“You guys don’t need to do that. I can handle it,” You mumbled, suddenly finding the way your cleats ran through the grass incredibly interesting.

Christen sighed, running a finger under your chin, grazing your scent gland as she tilted your chin up. “We know you can, just let us be a little protective over you, alright?”

You nodded biting your lip. You weren’t a weak omega, and you knew that the second you hit the field whatever grand plan they had was going to go right out the window.

Well, part of it at least. You were sure that a certain alpha’s very white uniform was about to be stained very very green.

****

You launched yourself across the pitch towards your mate, barely stopping to watch as your shot sailed past Jane Campbells outstretched fingers. You were having a blast skirting past the all-star defender, and fielding through passes and crosses from the Mewis’ and The great Horan.

“Good goal baby,” Christen said, smiling wildly as she scooped you up in her arms and pressed a kiss to your neck, just above your mating mark.

You pulled back, smiling at the alpha and flicking her lightly on the nose. “Good? That was fucking amazing! Did you see me put Stanton on her ass?”

Christen nodded, setting you back on your feet with a wide smile. “Yeah, and Kling. But I think I’ve seen Tobin do the same footwork before. I call plagiarism,”

You pouted, flicking the side of your alphas head again. “That’s not fair, I deserve a reward,”

Christen grabbed your wrist as it migrated down her waist with an eye roll. “Behave little one,”

She growled playful at you, about to lean up and nip your neck again, but the presence behind her stopped her. You whined loudly, displeased that she had stopped.

“Get your omega under control Press,” You tensed at the alpha’s voice, burying your face in Christen’s neck, afraid that even the scent of Hinkle would make you lose your composure altogether.

Christen's growl turned low and dangerous and was echoed by several of the teammates beginning to crowd around you. When your alpha promised the team would have your back, she meant it.

“Come on Y/n,” Mal said, cautiously breaking from the group to approach you. Her hand carefully touched your back, avoiding any skin. No one wanted to test your alpha's control any more than the asshat on the field was.

Christen made eye contact with the omega inching towards you, tearing her gaze from Hinkle. She nodded at Mal, coaxing you out of her neck and kissing your cheek. “go babydoll,” raising her eyebrow when you wined, but still pushing you towards Mal. You poured as Mal dragged you across the field, away from the brewing storm.

You didn’t need to be in the middle of an alpha battle. You wouldn’t tell anyone, but you were fragile and she didn’t want you to have to feel her dominance when she put Hinkle in her place.

She didn’t want to risk accidentally forcing you to submit. She would die before she did that.

“that one needs a firmer hand,” Hinkle scoffed, as Christen walked back towards her position, waiting for Sheridan to put the ball back into play.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Christen growled lowly, her eyes following you as you grossed the field with Mal. Lindsey sent her a stiff not. The entire team was behind you.

“Just saying that I could give you some pointers if you wanted them,” Hinkle shrugged as though she didn’t feel the insane tension on the pitch. Christen scoffed catching her arm, spinning the alpha to look at her. She didn’t need any advice on how to deal with you. You were a handful, but you were her handful, and she was glad you were comfortable enough with her to show her your playful side.

“Don’t waste your breath,” Christen said, letting out her dominant scent.

*****

The Women’s national team was known for its impeccable control. With so many strong alphas in one place, it was imperative for the team's functionality and their commitment to equality.

But tonight that control was nowhere to be found, and it wasn’t just the alphas that were going a little crazy. The pitch was total chaos and at the epicenter was Hinkle.

From the crazy tackles Lindsey, Becky, and Christen herself were committing, to the lengths Rose, Mal, and Alex all went to keep you as far from the Alpha as possible while still letting you put balls on goal. Vlatko’s tactics had gone out the window and the team was operating like a disaster (a very successful disaster as you had already scored 4 times against the all-stars, but a disaster nonetheless). All teeth and growls.

You were just thankful that the game was over, and that you could finally escape the place with so many bad memories. And the mix of dominant pheromones that hung in the air, putting you even more on edge.

You headed back towards the tunnel, uncharacteristically ignoring the opposing team trying to approach you for handshakes, and the fans screaming for your attention. It was unnerving to have your typically dosel alpha acting so aggressive.

It pulled your inner omega so close to the surface, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

“You know it’s wrong to ignore your superiors little omega,” The voice stopped you in your tracks. Your shoulders hunched and you seemed to almost fold in on yourself.

An arm wrapped around your waist, shielding you from Hinkle. You relaxed a little at the scent of your best friend's mate. “Just ignore her,” Mal said softly, pulling you into her.

Hinkle snarled at the two of you, rushing forwards to stand right in your path. You took in a sharp breath, your nose twitching at the press of Hinkle’s pheromones. You fought the urge to submit, the urge she had drilled into your skull from the time you joined the Courage to the time you finally made your escape.

“What, your alpha didn’t teach you any manners either,”

Mal tensed around you. You squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for the next blast of her potent scent. The one that would bring both of you to your knees. The one from your memories.

“You need to back the fuck off,” Ashlyn’s protective growls were suddenly separating you from Hinkle, shortly joined by Becky, Alex, Rose, and Lindsey.

“Or what?” She challenged, stepping up so she was eye to eye with the much taller alpha.

“Come on girlies, let’s get you to the back, they can handle this,” Ali said softly, trying to pull you and Mal around the wall of alphas and the dominant cloud of pheromones beginning to form. You let her pull you around the alphas, trying to keep your head down.

“No, she stays,” Hinkle sneered, catching your wrist as you passed.

The reaction of the team was instant, but none was more prominent than your own alpha’s (who had been caught up singing posters with Tobin). It was a big No-no to touch someone else’s mate.

“Take your hand off of her. NOW,” Christen growled, sending a wave of very dominant and very terrifying pheromones directly towards Hinkle. Even the little edge that caught you made you freeze and sent a shiver down your spine. The alpha immediately released you and whimpered as she fell to her knees.

Christen smirked viciously (her typical kind-hearted ness nowhere to be found). She was the stronger alpha, and she wanted Hinkle to know how it felt to be forced to submit. She wanted her to feel the humiliation of being surrounded by people who wouldn’t help her. She wanted her to know what she put you through.

Mal and Ali both tucked you into them and started directing you towards the locker room. Emily stepped in behind you, shielding you from where your alpha was towering over the shaking Hinkle.

They were right, you didn’t need to see this.

*****

The walk back to the locker room was short, but it felt like forever. The omegas spent it emitting their soothing scents, trying to calm your frayed nerves (which were only amplified by the emotions fluttering down your bond with Christen).

If the little edges of Christen's dominant pheromones were that strong, you could only imagine what it felt like to be caught in a full blast. That thought alone terrified you. She was always so careful with you, but what if she lost control.

“Shh, kid you’re ok,” An arm wrapped around you and gentle hands guided your shaking form to sit on the bench.

You shook your head rapidly. You were a lot of things right now, but ok wasn’t one of them.

You opened and closed your mouth several times, but no sound would come out. What if you upset your alpha and made her lose control? You loved to push her buttons.

“Hey, You gotta breath y/n,” Mal said, suddenly appearing crouched in front of you. She grabbed your hands, flattening out your palms to prevent your nails from digging further into your arms. She bit her lips at the stressful pheromones pouting off of you, she had only seen you like this once. A very long time ago (ironically in the same place you were now).

“Em, go get Rose,” She said, not taking her eyes off of you. Your best friend was probably the only person who could help you.

Emily’s eyes widened. There was a reason why most of the team’s omegas were in the locker room instead of hanging out in the field with their mates. It was one thing to put an arrogant alpha in their place, and another to risk accidentally forcing an omega to submit.

The team was insanely protective, and going out there while their instincts were on edge wasn’t a good idea.

“I think she’s got her-...” Emily started softly, lightly touching Mal’s shoulder.

“Wasn’t a question,” Mal growled, cutting her off, and finally taking her eyes off of you. You whimpered at the tone, your head tilting slightly and Emily nodded rapidly.

“Right, I’ll go right now,”

She exited the room at a near run. She didn’t quite understand what was wrong, but she knew you desperately needed someone.

****

Emily wasn’t sure what she expected when she exited the tunnel, but it wasn’t Rose and Christen standing over a shaking Hinkle (she would have pegged Ashlyn and Becky as way more likely to get themselves into this situation).

As she approached the group (and the insane cloud of pheromones, seriously they were going to need to fumigate the place)she caught the tail end of Christen's deep rumble. “That’s a despicable excuse for-...”

“I’m sorry to interrupt this-...” Emily said slowly coming up behind her alpha. She kept her eyes down and her hands out, very careful not to provoke the angry hoard any further.

Lindsey whipped around, gulping to try and restrain her instincts. She lightly grabbed her omega’s wrist to prevent her from getting closer to the scene. All hell would break loose if one of the omega’s accidentally got hurt. “Go back to the locker room. We’ll be there after we finish,”

Emily shook her head, finally looking into her alphas eyes. “No. You don’t-“

Lindsey’s eyes hardened as she cut her omega off. “I’m serious Em,”

Emily glared at her alpha, ripping her arm from her grasp. “So am I. I need Rose or Chris because y/n is like having a panic attack,” She practically spat.

She hadn’t known you for as long as Mal had, but she still felt the omega bond with you. The overwhelming urge to protect one of their own when they were in distress. If they needed an alpha to help you, then an alpha she would get, come hell or high water.

Christen and Rose both looked up at the mention of your name, as did the alpha on her knees. The alphas seemed to blink back to themselves, letting up on their emission of pheromones.

“Pathetic,” the woman on the ground mumbled.

The answering growl from the group was instant, low, and very dangerous. “Don’t you start,” Ashlyn said, her voice deadly soft before looking back up at the two struggling alphas. “Go, we can finish this,”

Rose and Christen nodded, sending one last snarl towards Hinkle before following Emily down the tunnel.

****

Christen took in a sharp breath at your distinct scent, freezing in the doorway. The locker room air was saturated with stressed and terrified pheromones. Any remaining anger she may have felt for the asshole out on the field disappeared and was replaced by worry for you.

Rose moved first, pushing past your frozen mate and joining her omega on the floor in front of you, crouching down to your level. If you noticed newcomers to the room, you didn’t show it. You were stiffly sitting on the bench in the corner, staring off into space.

Rose gently rubbed your knee, trying to bring you back to yourself. “Hey Kitkat, what’s going on?”

You blinked down at the alpha, your head tilting automatically. “Nothing. I’m fine,” you said robotically and Rose’s eyebrows furrowed.

She had only seen you like this once, and that was after-... it was too horrible to even consider.

“Yeah, no one believes that,” She mumbled, using a finger to stop you from showing off your neck.

“I -...” you started, but the words got stuck in your throat, caught between an answer and a sob.

“Did all the pheromones bring back bad memories?” Christen asked, finally taking a step inside the room. She had gotten very good at reading you since you had mated and she knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

You nodded, finally looking up at the alpha. Your alpha. You took her in, how she seemed more relaxed (minus the worried lines in her forehead) and her scent was its usual cinnamon and spice.

The heavy dominance was gone. It wasn’t the terrifying figure that had confronted a monster from your past, no this was your Chris.

She took another few slow steps towards you. Rose and Mal moved out of the way to give your alpha room in front of you.

“You’re just so strong. What happens if I push too far?” You asked quietly.

And finally, the pieces clicked in everyone’s heads. Christen shook her head and took your hands. “I would never baby. What you saw-. It’s different with other alphas,”

It was embedded in the fabric of the team (and the countries) culture. You never ever forced an omega to submit, but submission had a different effect on alphas. It wasn’t uncommon for them to assert dominance over each other, and forcing full submission was a way to show an errant alpha bow off base they were. Alphas didn’t experience the emotional distress that came with full-blown submission.

“Promise?” You asked, your voice small.

“With everything I am. You can poke and prod and make me blush, but I will never do what she did to you,” Christen said, kissing the back of your hand and looking you in the eyes to show you just how serious she was.

She waited for your shoulders to relax before releasing a wave of her soothing scent and pulling you into her. You trusted her, and you felt comfortable that she would keep her promise.

If she didn’t you knew about 22 people who would have your back.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #christen press imagine #christen press x reader

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