#Keep the baby's name in view of five issues

[cameronspecial]

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 9)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Soft NSFW (Not all the way but some sexual content) and it could be angst, but idk.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: Y/N thinks she is ready for the next step in the relationship, but what happens when she starts to think otherwise.

Masterlist

September passes by in a breeze and before anyone knows it, Y/N, Mason, and Rafe are packing for a weekend away for the boys' swim meet. The three will be going without their parents. Marvin has a big case he has to work on, Cassie has meetings with studio heads about a possible book adaptation and Ward just couldn’t care enough to go. Y/N finishes packing away a few clothes into her duffle bag. “Y/N/N, time to go,” Mason yells from downstairs. “Coming!” She zips up her bag, making sure to grab her tote bag with all of her books and Rafe’s swim sweater. She runs downstairs, accidentally exciting the pup lying at the foot of the bed into thinking they are going out together. Sparky tries to follow the girl out the door but is stopped by her picking him up and placing him into Marvin’s arms. “Sorry, Bubba, but you are staying here with grandma and grandpa. Mommy and Daddy are going to the mainland,” Y/N apologizes. 

Little does she know, Rafe is standing outside of the open front door, listening to how she just referred to him. It causes red to creep up on Rafe’s cheeks and neck. Mason walks up behind him and claps his hand on Rafe’s back. “Damn, looks like you are stuck with Sparky. He is your baby now,” Mason jokes, heading inside to pull his sister away from the dog. “No, I’m not ready to leave him yet,” she whines as her brother gently pulls her towards Rafe’s jeep. “Hi my rose, ready to go?” Rafe inquires, giving her a kiss and then taking the bags out of her hands to put them into his car. She nods her head, “Yep, Mason can sit in front with you. I’m not in the mood to talk right now. I want to read.” Rafe nods, opening the back door to help her into the car. 

—— 

They arrive at the hotel and check in without an issue. Rafe makes his way to his room, while Y/N and Mason head to their shared room. They knew their parents wouldn’t have cared if Y/N had stayed in the same room as Rafe, but she feels more comfortable staying with her brother. If she slept in Rafe’s room, it would cause her to feel pressure to have sex with him and she isn’t sure she is ready for that yet. Sure, she isn’t a virgin, but she knows that he has far more experience with more promiscuous women. It isn’t that she feels insecure about her sexual ability; it’s just that she wants to grow their emotional relationship first. 

——

The stands around the pool are filled with cheers from the support system of various swimmers. Y/N found a seat about three rows behind the bench of waiting swimmers. She can see the back of Rafe’s swim panchos with their last names on display. Swimmers wear them to keep warm when they wait on the sidelines for their races. While Rafe excels at breaststroke, Mason is known for winning during the freestyle events, which means Y/N cheers on her brother from the stands. She watches as her brother finishes his last lap and reaches the end of the pool before anyone else. He has a good five-second lead against everyone else. Y/N screams her brother’s name at the top of her lungs. 

The next few events don’t feature either of her boys, so she sits back down and pulls out her book to not block the view of other people. “Next event is men’s 200m breaststroke,” the booming speaker announces. Y/N quickly packs away her book and stands up to ensure that she will be able to see Rafe. She watches Rafe approach the swimming platform. She has to stop herself from drooling at the slight flex of his muscles as he leans down into position. The sound of the horn reverberates against the walls once everyone is ready. Rafe dives into the water and glides through the water; faster than any of the other swimmers. Before she knows it, Rafe is celebrating his win on the poolside. He is a whole thirteen seconds ahead of anyone else, which is incredible. Once he is done thanking his team meets, who are congratulating him, Rafe turns towards where he spotted Y/N in the stands earlier and points at her. He blows her a kiss with a massive smile on his face. He even went the extra mile by forming a heart with his hands and giving an air kiss into the centre of it. 

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his actions and she blows him back a kiss. “Are you his girlfriend?” a voice beside her asks. Y/N turns to see a tall ginger looking down at her. Y/N looks at the other girl with a smile, “Yeah. His name is Rafe and we’ve been together for about a month.” “I see, you guys make a cute couple. You must be so proud of him, though. I’ve seen him at some of my brother’s other swim meets and he always dominates everyone in the competition,” the girl praises to Y/N. 

“I’m so proud of him. I know how hard he works for this and it’s always amazing to get to see it pay off.”

“I’m Y/N by the way. I go to Kildare Academy in the Outer Banks. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s so nice to meet you too. My name is Charlie. I’m from Norfolk Prep in Wanchese. My brother is the ginger over there. His name is Charles.”

“I see a pattern with the names. He did well too. He came in third, which would mean he could qualify for the state if this were a different meet. You wanna exchange instas? It would be cool to have someone else to hang out with at these things.”

“Yeah, he did better than he did last time. And I would love to do that. I’m the only girl out of five brothers so it would be so nice to have some girl time at these things.” 

“Ouf, I grew up with Rafe and my brother. I don’t know how you did it with so many boys.”

“You get used to it. I love them but boy can they get on my nerves.”

Y/N giggles at the comment and the girls continue their conversation while walking out of the pool area. “Well, I told my brother I was going to wait for him at the restaurant. So I guess this is where we part ways,” Charlie informs her, waving goodbye to Y/N before heading off in the other direction. She leans up against a pillar with a book in her hand, waiting for her brother and Rafe to finish up so that they can have dinner. All of a sudden, hands cover her eyes and she receives a peck on her cheek. “You guys did so great today. I’m so proud of both of you. Keep it up and you both will be competing in the nationals together,” she congratulates, twirling around in his arms to wrap her own arms around his neck. Rafe looks at her and she sees the gleam of love in his eyes, “Well, as long as you are there to cheer me on, I think I have all my competitions in the bag. You’re my good luck charm.” “Ughh, you guys are so cheesy,” Mason grumbles, approaching the two with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. 

“We may be, but you love us. Hey, can we go to Gloria’s Palace? I want all-you-can-eat dumplings?” she begs, dragging both boys towards the car. “Of course. Dim sum sounds so good right now,” Rafe confirms, making sure she doesn’t hurt herself when getting into his car. “I could go for some Chinese food,” Mason adds, buckling himself into his seat. 

——

She devours her dumplings without a single care if anyone is judging her. Rafe happily watches as Y/N enjoys her food and slyly keeps adding to her plate to make sure she eats until she is satisfied. “Oooh, the soup dumplings are here. Cameron, have you tried these already? You have to try some,” she orders, not waiting for the waiter to place the plate on the table before picking up a dumpling, placing it on her spoon to let to soup out. She blows on it before gently lifting it up to his lips for him to try. Rafe doesn’t want to remind her that she was there the last time they had soup dumplings because her excitement for feeding him fills his heart with so much love. This caring side of hers she shows to the people she loves is one of the reasons why he keeps falling for her deeper. 

Y/N could read Rafe’s emotions like a book. This romantic and cliche moment they share as they stare into each other’s eyes, waiting for him to try the food. He feels the dumpling is now at a suitable temperature and shoves the whole spoon in his mouth. He makes sure to hmm to indicate that he likes it. Watching him put on a show for her, even though she knows he has already tried these because she just remembers he was the one to show her and Mason this place, makes her realize this is the perfect moment. She realizes then that she and Rafe already have a solid emotional relationship and that she is ready to go to the next step with him. She honestly couldn’t think of a better way of celebrating today’s big win. 

——

“I think I’m going to sleep in Rafe’s room tonight,” Y/N announces to Mason, who is in the shower. Mason responds, “Okay, use protections though. I don’t need any human nieces or nephews just yet.” “Mace! You could’ve pretended you didn’t know what was happening. But bye, love you,” she calls out, leaving the room to head to Rafe’s down the hall. She quickly dashes towards his room in hopes of not running into anyone. She softly knocks on his door and twiddles with her fingers whilst waiting for him to open the door. “Hey, is everything okay?” Rafe questions with worry in his voice after opening the door. Y/N is quick to nod her head to reassure him, “Yeah, definitely. I was just wondering if I could maybe sleep here tonight.” She doesn’t wait for an answer, grabbing his hand and gently tugging him into the room with her. With confidence, she isn’t sure where she got it from, she pushes him onto the bed and straddles his hips. Her lips find his and she starts to gently grind down onto him as they make out. 

He slowly pulls away from her for a second, “Are you sure about this?” “Absolutely. You make me feel safe and loved. And that’s all I need right now,” she whispers with her forehead against his. She starts kissing down his neck and sucking on his neck. His hands find their way to the hem of her (it’s really his) sweater and he pulls it over her head. Her lips find his again and she can feel his arms rounding her torso to the clasp of her bra. She helps him slide it off of her and she moans into the kiss when she feels his hands start to play with her nipples. At that moment, the worse possible thing could happen. Her mind wanders to Molly and Hannah’s conversation in the bathroom the month before. In that instant, she worries what they said could possibly be true. She knows that the boys she’s dated in the past were never able to satisfy her properly, so she pretended they did but what if that’s what they were doing with her? What if she thought she knew what she is doing, only to completely embarrass herself in front of him? 

Suddenly, this doesn’t feel like a good idea anymore, but she doesn’t want to disappoint him by stopping now. He hasn’t in any way pressured her to take the next step with him and she really wants to do this for him. Rafe notices the movements of her hips have stopped and he quickly pulls away from her. His hand removes themselves from her breasts and he lightly places them on her hips. “I know you said you want this, but I think we should stop,” he whispers into her ear. He can sense that something has shifted and he doesn’t want her to feel embarrassed by the fact that she isn’t ready to continue. However, Y/N misconstrues his words as him not wanting her. It fuels the insecurity she is already feeling and she goes on the defensive, “Oh, so you don’t want me. You’ve had a little taste of what I can do and you don’t want anymore.” He realizes his mistake and tries to backpedal. 

“No, my rose. That’s not what I mean. I can sense your hesitance. Something is wrong and I don’t want it to lead to you regretting something.” 

“Don’t blame this on me. I didn’t say I wanted to stop. I’ve had sex before Rafe. There is no reason why I would hesitate,” she spits with as much venom as she could. 

“I’m not saying there is anyone at fault. But I just need you to know that I don’t want to continue until I know that you for sure want to do this. That you feel emotionally as excited and secure as I do about this.” 

“I said I wanted this so why can’t you just listen to me? You aren’t better than me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Please, my rose. Just listen to me. You may be saying that you want to have sex, but your subconscious seems to be saying otherwise with your actions so I don’t want to do anything more than just kiss tonight. You can stay and we can cuddle, but we shouldn’t make love.” 

The pair has moved to be standing at opposite ends of the room and Rafe’s hands are gesticulating everywhere. Something Y/N notices he does when he is trying to explain something. Often, when he explains something in a condescending manner, he will bring the tips of his fingers near his temples and gently tap them. She found it adorable, normally. Rafe sees how her hands are pinching at the skin of her arms; a clear sign her mind is moving at a million miles her second. Her eyes are glassed over, ready to spill tears, “No, I think I’ll just go back to my room.” During their argument, she had already put on her bra to feel less vulnerable, so she quickly grabs one of his hoodies off his suitcase and leaves. Rafe takes notes of the tears she started to shed and tried to hide; this causes a pang in his heart. He also finds it heartbreaking that the sweater she grabbed is a random Carhartt sweater and not his swim one. His name isn’t going to be sprawled on her back. 

He feels his own tears start to fall and his hands shoot up to cover his face. A protective technique he developed over the years to try to hide the fact that he was crying from his father, who would disapprove of any of Rafe’s emotions. How could this have gone all wrong? He sits on the edge of the bed and tries to work out different ways that conversation could’ve gone. He knows he is going to have a hickey tomorrow and it hurts him to know that it will just be a reminder of the fight they had. He’s never cared so much for someone and he worries this could be the end of them. He lies down in his bed and prays this isn’t going to be the end of their relationship.

——

Y/N runs into the hotel room in a fit of tears. She jumps into her bed and cacoons herself into the blanket. Mason shoots up from his slumber at the sound of the door slamming shut. He looks over at his sister and worries fill every part of him. He could recognize the sounds of heartbreak. He knows she wouldn’t be in the mood to talk about it, so instead he wiggles himself underneath her blanket and wraps his arms around her shoulders to give her comfort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he mutters to her. She nods her head and takes in his warmth. She closes her eyes and tries to forget what happened tonight. 

——

Breakfast and the car ride home are filled with awkward silence. Mason doesn’t say a word to avoid risking having to take a side with both of them present, but he does promise himself to hear both sides of the story and to help them make up. While Mason helps Rafe unload the twins’ stuff from the car, Y/N is quick to head inside without offering to help them. “Dude, I don’t know what happened between you two. But we are going to have a talk after I get her side of the story,” Mason warns, following his sister inside with their bags. Rafe nods without saying a word and hops into his car to go home. 

He enters the kitchen to see his father already there making coffee. Rafe is about to leave but is interrupted by his father. “Congratulations on the win. Although, I thought you would’ve brought your little girlfriend home.” 

“Thanks. And uh, Y/N and I are not really on talking terms right now.”

“Ahh, it’s about time she broke up with you. You honestly lasted longer than I expected.”

“No, Dad. We didn’t break up. We just- we got into an argument about something I said and I wasn’t able to reassure her properly.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry I assumed then. But I understand where you are coming from. Seeing someone you love hurting and not being able to help them is frustrating. But maybe it’s better you realize sooner that you aren’t able to be there for her in that way.”

Rafe is surprised by the apology from his father but refuses to agree with his father’s belief about not being able to make Y/N feel better. He still appreciates his dad trying to comfort him. It’s something new he hasn’t experienced before. 

——

Mason knocks on her door and doesn’t wait for a reply before entering the room. Y/N looks up teary-eyed from her book and eyes the hot chocolate in her brother’s hand. She puts her book down onto her book cart and shuffles over on the window sill for Mason to sit down. He observes that she is reading Red Queen, which is one of her comfort reads. And for her to be straying from her tbr, then it must be serious. Although, as long as it is not Percy Jackson, then he knows there is still hope for fixing their relationship. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it. But it’s better if you don’t bury your emotions,” Mason advises, sitting down opposite her and leaning back against the wall. 

“Why do you have to be right? I guess you can say I got into my own head when things got serious between us last night. And when he noticed my hesitance, he did the right thing and stopped even though I insisted that I wanted to continue. I know he did the right thing, but I just felt like he was saying he didn’t want me and it hurt.” 

“You know that isn’t even remotely true though, right?” 

“Of course, I do. It’s just, for some reason I felt like I needed to self-sabotage myself and now I don’t even know if he will forgive me for my stupid outburst. What if I ruined everything?” 

“Hey, hey. Take a deep breath. You know Rafe wouldn’t just give up on you like that. What you are going to do is figure out your emotions and then communicate that realization to Rafe after you’ve had a little time to yourself. Okay? Everything will be fine. I promise.” 

“I guess you are right. I think I just need some time right now though. Alone.” 

Mason nods at his sister’s words and hopes she will listen to his advice. He gets up from his seat and gives her a kiss on the head. He gets to her door and turns back to check on her for a second. She has engrossed herself back in her book. He lets out a sigh of despair and leaves her room. 

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @terraeluce @f4ll-for-you

[trulybetty]

dec' 23 x fairy lights

Prompt: fairy lights Pairing: dieter x ofc!bryony Word Count: 525 Warnings: dim byd (nada) Summary: Dieter is no stranger to scandal, it's been a cornerstone of his career on many occasions. It's just not often, if ever, that it includes Bryony. AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

Bryony had put down the phone with Pierce, Dieter’s manager five minutes previously. It had been a tense conversation. Dieter was no stranger to scandal, water off a duck’s back - but now it was involving Bryony and it prickled at her that her name was being dropped in gossip forums and checkout rags. Pierce was helping keep the journalists at bay and Rosie, Dieter’s publicist was the one fielding the calls and issuing no comment.

But just as Rosie had reiterated, no comment wasn’t going to buy them much time any longer. If they were going to control the narrative then they needed to come out as a united front and stay ahead of the rumours.

Bryony pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to practice the breathing techniques her therapist had talked her through the week before. 

“There you are!” Bryony opened her eyes to see Dieter walk into the kitchen, iPad in hand, “It just came through.”

Bryony’s shoulders tensed, “And?”

“Come look,” he said, beckoning her over to where he had set up the iPad on the counter.

Bryony took a look at her phone which was flashing again with more messages and missed call notifications, and flipped it over leaving it behind as she headed to join Dieter.

Dieter stepped back, admiring the image that filled the screen of his iPad, “That,” he said, his voice full of quiet excitement, “should be our Christmas card this year,” he looked to Bryony, his eyes searching hers, eager in the hope she hadn’t changed her mind. 

Bryony cocked her head to the side, she wanted to comment on it, but for once she couldn’t disagree with Dieter, “I think you might be right.” she conceded.

Dieter clutched at his chest and let out a dramatic gasp, “Is that Bryony Bravo née Morgan agreeing with meee???”

Bryony rolled her eyes as her fingers pinched and expanded on the screen, zooming in on the photo, “Don't let it go to your head.” she chided as she looked over the photo again, biting her lip, “You think people are ready for this? Are we ready to have this out there?” The vulnerability behind her words was palpable.

He exhaled, the levity in his voice giving way to something more serious. “Well, I was ready to keep this to ourselves. But we both agreed with Rosie that we need to stay one step ahead of anyone making a scandal of this.” He sat down next to Bryony at the kitchen island, his chin coming to rest gently on her shoulder, looking down at the iPad again, “anyway, of all the scandals I’ve had, this is one of the tamer ones.”

Bryony sniffed and brushed a tear away as she let out a laugh, “This is true, I just wanted to hold on to this for a little longer.” 

Dieter squeezed her hand as she zoomed out of the photo for the full view. There, amidst the ethereal twinkle of fairy lights, wearing a tiny Santa hat that was way too big and with tiny fingers clutching the fur of a stuffed hippo, was Baby Girl Bravo.

[thefandomcassandra]

My collected thoughts on Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective (as someone who only played the remake, at the behest of xyr good friend who insisted xe played it because "you would love it" and "its your brand" (which was correct))

The way the puzzles are made are so tight and so intuitive (with a few notable exceptions, which were only bearable because you can try and try and try again).

Being able to use a controller (guess whose crunchy t-rex wrists are too fucked up for mouse and keyboard controls for more than five minutes? This guy!) was so so good, even if the OG was a point and click. Apparently the switch version has touch which is neat? But the controller controls are tight and I only had a few issues with them (namely I kept clipping into cores I didn't want).

The story is brilliant with superb foreshadowing that, even on a first playthrough, can be seen and noted. The amount of times I hooted like a beast and pointed out smthn for my friend to only 🙂at me through discord tts was so so many. And I was right to point them out too.

Missile.

The characters are so genuine and real and quirky (Shu Takumi, you weird girl enjoyer™️, you do it so well) and several of them reminded me of friends' ocs (in a deeply positive way).

I never wanted to stop playing (I did because I was streaming for the above friend, who was having A Time™️ and deserved the secondhand First Time Experience Of A Beloved Thing emotions, but god I wanted to keep playing until I was done it was RESTRAINT and LOVE that stilled my sinful hand).

It's not terribly long, really. My finished game (featuring several minutes of idling and listening to the in-game music/viewing the art) was 11.4hrs. That's a trip and a half baby! Nice tight little game.

Missile.

The way the characters were animated was so charming. 10/10 art style. I wanna play with them with little action figures. Smack em together and write funny stories.

There is no unmotivated action. Even the villain, even the most bad of guys has a motive that, even if its stupid or bad, is there.

When you fuck up, you still get a laugh out of it. There were at least two (2) instances of my friend saying "Hey do [this] for me?" When I did, I was always rewarded with something stupid or interesting that made me lose my mind.

The game, while not hand-holdy, will give you hints. They're always contextual and specific to whatever you've just done (or should be doing) and they're usually internal or external dialogue between the ghost you're playing as and whomever is listening (usually nobody, sometimes the dead person they're helping).

Missile.

Anyway, play Ghost Trick. It's worth the 30USD.

[meadowmines]

OC-Tober/Tojoctober Day 10: Boss

Believe it or not, Goro Goddamn Majima is not the worst boss Aoyagi has ever had. Oh, don't get it twisted--he's definitely in the top five (mostly because of that time he had Aoyagi shot in the back--long story, not what it looks like, it worked out okay but damn).

The night he finally let Aoyagi swear up, he said two things. First, that he didn't do the pinky thing. And second, if you fucked up, he'd make you wish he did the pinky thing.

He has made Aoyagi wish he did the pinky thing, more than once.

And really, if it was just the beatings, that'd be fine. Yes, Aoyagi realizes it's not actually fine and he's aware of how fucked up a view that is but look, it's the goddamn yakuza, a little random workplace violence goes with the territory. No, it's the other shit that costs Aoyagi hair, sleep, and sanity.

He hears "A-kun!" in that particular ominous singsong and just cringes because he knows he's about to get the most pants-on-head bananapants bullshit dumped onto his shoulders. It wasn't so bad when he ran the cafe. Somehow, the boss understood that running a restaurant is a lot of work and the general manager just can't be pulled off the job willam and nillam to emcee drag shows or peddle glow toys or dye baby chicks or whatever. But now that he's the Chief of Safety for Majima Fucking Construction, and now that he has an office in a trailer that's right there inside the gate, he can't go one damn day without getting yanked off his actual job to coordinate whatever extracurricular bullshit the boss got a wild hair up his ass to do. And however bad he gets this shit, Nishida gets it a hundred times worse. Aoyagi did not enjoy having to wrangle pizza and bouncy castles for the entire company, but at least he's never had to organize a citywide zombie LARP so the boss could impress his crush rival.

The boss invades his apartment at the worst possible times, drinks his beer, eats his food, steals his books, overwrites his game saves (and always names his characters something horrid), and is an otherwise intolerable houseguest. He calls Aoyagi and his bro at ungodly hours of the morning asking for a ride to Poppo for cigarettes and beer and swears he won't get in a street fight this time and if he does he won't drag Aoyagi and Nishida into it (he always gets in a street fight and he always drags Aoyagi and Nishida into it). Aoyagi always gets a little frisson of dread when Kiryu-san comes by the job site to hang out with the boss because for reasons he does not even want to begin exploring, they keep screwing RIGHT BEHIND HIS OFFICE.

But Aoyagi does get a little more leeway to call him on his bullshit than most people do, for reasons that are super unpleasant and that we're not going to discuss. He's one of the few people who can say sir, that's a bad idea and you should feel bad straight to the man's face and (usually) not get punched about it. He even gets a free I told you so if that bad idea ends up with him and his bro hauling the boss to the emergency room again.

And everyone knows about Majima beating the shit out of his men when they screw up... but not so many know about Majima just flinging wads of cash at them when they do good. Aoyagi has come home more than once to find autographed wrestling merch on his table that wasn't there when he left and while he's not a fan of the breaking and entering, he appreciates the sentiment.

If he needs to go to the eye doc or pay a bill or otherwise do some bit of mandatory adulting that can only be done during business hours on a weekday, he doesn't even have to ask. It's not even an issue. Shit, one of his prior bosses backed into his car on company time and then tried to dock his pay for taking an hour to talk to the insurance adjuster. Majima would never.

And then there's the gender thing which, damn near from the moment Aoyagi and Majima met, has been a complete non-issue. Unlike, say, this national chain on the other side of the Pacific which fired the top-grossing district manager in the company three years running because that hotshot district manager damaged their family friendly image (read: legally changed his name, cut his hair off, and started wearing a suit and tie to work in the year of our Lord two thousand and one).

Shit, even if you take the rest of the world out of the equation and just think of this in terms of yakuza bosses, Majima isn't even close to the worst. He has a reputation for taking in the rejects no other family will touch. The family of last resort, Aoyagi heard it called more than once, and that was about the kindest term for it.

But every single man in the family says the same thing, Aoyagi included: Majima helped them when nobody else would. Gave them jobs--the kind that could translate to honest ones later on, even. Made sure they had roofs over their heads and food on their tables. Gave them a family that really cared about them--for some of them, it's the only real family they've ever had. Saved their literal lives, in more than one case--including Aoyagi's.

And really? If the tradeoff for that is the occasional stolen book or I told you so run to the emergency room, Aoyagi can live with it.

[tezzbot]

Osomatsu, Jyushimatsu and Todomatsu (🏳️‍🌈💌💔🧸🪀💬🎃🔊)

not gonna do all of these for all 3 ive been trying since last night my brains gonna melt lmfao

🏳️‍🌈 lgbt hc

osomatsu thats a dyke

jyushimatsu i think w regards to gender probably doesnt give tht much of a fuck tbh. hes just jyushimatsu also woman liker

todomatsu uhhh . hm idk.. theres smth fruity going on there i mean look at it. not sure how id label him hes like a lgbt what all at once type u know HDHJDG

💌 fluff hc

osomatsu has always really loved horse racing even before he had a gambling addiction lol i think as a kid hed go to the library or smth and just Read n Learn about horses and races in general thats the tism baby he knows literally everything you ask him who won whatever race in like 1976 he Knows its like scary impressive (literally how else wld he remember horse racing results from Ten Years In The Past in the movie!!!!) if you gave him a horse he would fully know how to take care of it

jyushimatsu and homura, tho not dating cus i dont think theyre ldr kinda people, they do still stay in contact, they talk on the phone n write each other letters tgey r the world

some of the friends todomatsu has do legitimately enjoy hanging out with him like the barista girls what r their names. aida and s. saachi? they like him a lot! as a friend! he just is in the mindset of im bottom of the social barrel so he doesnt always see it lol

💔 angst hc

do i even need to do this these guys r miserable little freaks as is lmfao

osomatsu. cant think of anythin original just uknow usual. childhood trauma, dependency issues, oldest child 3rd parent syndrome, etcetc

jyushimatsu feels bad abt how he treated ppl in high school, despite the fact tht it was a defence mechanism he didnt Like being so angry all the time :( its why he tries so much to make people happy now. tht anger does still make its appearances but hes better with it now

🧸hurt/comfort hc

osomatsu when he feels like trashgarbage will go and find one of his brothers and if he finds one of them in the house he'll go n sit by them n try strike up a conversation but if hes feeling like considerably bad he'll just sit and maybe lean against them just for the pressure remind him that theyre there keep him grounded

💬 fav line

jyushimatsu - literally all of his big long stupid internal monologues are great but literally the best line in the show is "Samples, my guy" it legitimately made me laugh So loud when i first watched that episode by myself

🎃 sth i think theyre afraid of

osomatsu hemophobia not a fan of blood, why he freaked out so bad in the movie over a scuff

jyushimatsu probably claustrophobic n being restrained fr long not of his own accord, man needs to fidget

todomatsu literally so scared of seeing the hat man in the dark. he watched one five nights at freddys video in 2015 and now his brain thinks hes gonna see bonnie in the bathroom at night he closes the door facing into a room so he has a full view of the room w his back On the door to make sure he hasnt been followed despite the fact he Knows he hasnt. just in case lol (no i am not projecting [lying])

🔊song that reminds me of them

oso - get well city by felix hagan and the family (a lot of their songs make me think Matsus in general tbh lol)

jyushi- dumb dumb by mazie

todo is kinda hard to nail down but - secrets by p!nk

[gontagokuhara]

Also I was thinking about that one ask someone made in like 2019 when you said nagito had a shitlist that makoto and byakuya were on bc they're gay people he doesn't respect and I was like WHYYY im literally so used to nagito being up makoto's arse in both canon/fanon it was surprising!!! Also peep the nagito with hooves reference to Mr brunner in that post

Like since I went through the old asks earlier today idk if you were serious about it but nagito with hooves is quite literally just Mr tumnus and I kept laughing at the imagery while I was at work Ngl I was procrastinating on the 4 quizzes and 1 test I have tomorrow by reading some of the old pointy objects asks 💀

okay last thing I just wanna say I can't remember who named gonta but to me it was so unhinged and random so it was probably nagito wasn't it LMFAO also the idea of baby baby gonta literally makes me want to cry please keep doing him right in this fic PLEASE😭 okay that's it BYEE

Okay I just wanna say idk what rantaro looks like when his power is activated but I cannot imagine anything other than a That's So Raven mid-sentence freeze where he looks like the "Monday left me broken" cat. Just like "yeah so anyway I was—👁👁...." and shuichi has just,,,, never questioned it LMFAOO

hiiiiii <3 when i saw this last night i ALSO went deep in the pointy objects tag to find the asks ur referencing but also a littol trip down memory lane ahead of getting started writing. we all know the drill by now all of my ramblings are below the cut <3

first of all (because u sent this one first) ur very right about shuuichi being a little bit of a bozo wrt: noticing rantarou's having a Precog Moment. he's (rantarou) has grown pretty used to getting hit with brief flashes of the future, so he's pretty good at maintaining a poker face when he's struck by one. we see it the sliiiightest bit way back in ch1 while rantarou is driving, and in the middle of speaking he is hit with a vision — it's not something he elaborates on but he does see more or less what ends up happening once the monsters rush the car. naturally makoto and byakuya are good at sussing out when he's having one — and as a very heavy aside, it was a vision of him and shuuichi as best buddies his first day of school that had him pursuing the friendship so ardently, and ultimately got them where they are now. brothers <3

and yes back to those asks!!! they are up to like.....jesus christ late-2019 was over 4 years ago at this point so THEREfore so are the asks. that said, in reading over them all again i don't think there's anything i said way back when that doesn't hold at least slightly true currently (with one exception, being the mystery poly relationship ending, and that's more to do with issues i foresee in incorporating it into the fic itself in a way that makes sense). the ones about nagito though? DEFINITELY still bang all this time later

which leads me into: your questions! there is definitely a level of respect nagito allows towards makoto (byakuya....not So much LOL) but when you know a guy for thousands and thousands and thousands of years.....and he marries the obnoxious rich guy in what is so *obviously* a downgrade for a big five god like himself (not unlike how nagito at least somewhat views hajime as having somewhat "settled" for nagito; i could go on and on about the inner machinations of po!nagito i love that stupid fuck for how comparatively little he's on-screen)...............nagito is a little disappointed. even all this time later. he is not byakuya's biggest fan LMFAO

tbh so much of my early answers on nagito (aside from how he was actually Present the first few chapters, so it made sense) stem directly from the fact he (+ shuuichi) are the direct inspiration for pointy objects as a whole. specifically this video, which i credit ch1 as being the catalyst for pointy objects becoming.......well almost 200k and counting. shuuichi as percy's counterpart and nagito as dionysus the unpaid, eternally cursed camp counselor (with hajime as mr brunner, thankfully hoofless) was the starting point for pointy objects FOR sure, and it's just expanded quite a lot past that over all this time. that video jumpstarted the idea in my sister (who handed it over to me pretty much from the get-go), and the pjo musical is what i loosely structured the lore/plot around, but i think the observations i've heard from readers that pointy objects does well at expanding well past the boundaries of the source material hold true! if you do happen to take a peek at the linked video, though: pretty much the whole of ch2 was very heavily inspired by the song which i think is obvious on reread. that sprite edit started it all fr thank you youtube user evie

and yes: it was nagito who found and subsequently named gonta! 8 years and counting of gonta being camp's designated favorite by literally everybody (nagito) (hajime) (most of the campers) (the mioda triplets) (me, connorlizabeth bazwrites). as is probably obvious [gestures at my entire tumblr] i am gontas #1 ride or die, he's my pride and joy, and i will definitely continue having fun with po!gonta TRUST <3 in the spirit of not saying too much ill leave it at.........gonta enjoyers. we are going to eat good.

[finelinevogue]

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

                                                            ••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?" 

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

                                                          ••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

                                                             ••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

[imthebadguyyy]

A/N - based off of this sinful photograph

Suggested listening - Wildside by Normani and Kiss It Better by Rihanna

Wildside

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (fem!littlemix!reader)

Fandom - F1

Summary - You've been on tour for a while, and you miss your loverboy. But when he surprises you on tour, its bound to get spicy.

Warnings - smut (not well written)

The snap of hips. The soft groans and moans. The sound of pants. The sound of Rihanna's 'Kiss It Better' blaring through the walls. The bed knocking against the wall as Lewis's hands squeezed your hips, the intensity of the thrust pushing the bed against the wall. The high pitched moan that left your mouth as you reached your high, eyes closing as stars exploded behind your eyelids, as your boyfriend came right after you, your walls clenching as he came. Even after reaching your high, you didn't want to open your eyes, far too consumed in the earth shattering pleasure that was coursing through your veins, until a soft hand reached to pull your chin up, soft brown eyes looking into your own, clouded with lust and euphoria.

Pulling your mouth into his in a heated kiss, Lewis moved his hand to rest on your bare stomach, squeezing your tummy softly as he deepened the kiss. Pulling away he let his head droop onto your bare chest. "That was.." he began, far too blissed out to think of an adjective. "Godly" you said, chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to come to terms with the intensity of your orgasm. Laughing he leaned back up to kiss your nose, before standing up and walking to the bathroom. You heard the tap running, and the sound of the dustbin opening and closing. You closed your eyes again, the aftershocks still coursing through your body.

Opening them again slowly, you saw Lewis walk towards you, towel in hand, and a lazy smile on his face. He gently cleaned your thighs, finishing with kisses on both of them. He reached up and wiped your torso, which was gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, before running the towel over your nose, cheeks, eyes and mouth. He dropped the towel in the clothes hamper near the bathroom door, pulling on his boxer shorts and and pulling out one of his t shirts from the cupboard. "What about the clothes on the floor" you piped up, finally beginning to wake up from your post pleasure state. "When did it get so messy?" He said, spotting 5 different clothing items in 5 different corners of the room. "When you decided to run your hand up my dress in a restraunt" you replied, throwing him a fake glare.

"You liked it" was his cocky reply, smirk spreading over his face as you flushed and ran a hand through your hair. "I did not" you lied, watching as he raised his eyebrows. "Oh really ? Thats not what you were saying 5 minutes ago- oh wait, you weren't saying anything at all. You were too busy moaning my name to say anything else-" "OKAY fine I loved it. Now shut up and bring your fine ass back for cuddles"

*-*-*

That was a month ago. Now you've been away for nearly one and half months, away with the girls on the LM5 tour. You loved touring, it was the best part of being a singer, getting to see the music you girls made together come to life on a stage in front of thousands and thousands of screaming fans. It was a thrill like no other. The only problem was that you were away from home. Distance was never an issue for the two of you, after all, he was a Formula 1 driver. It was very rare that he was home, except during the breaks and the gaps till race weekend, but ever since you two had started dating, he tried to be with you whenever you could. Sometimes, your shows would be in places where the races were too, and then he'd definitely turn up. But it was a difficult thing to do all the time, and some nights on tour were spent pulling all nighters as you talked to each other on the phone, till one of you eventually fell asleep.

But you knew when you started dating him, this wouldn't exactly be a regular relationship. The two of you were doing your dream jobs, and they were both extraordinary. And you were willing to put in the work you had to put in to make the relationship work, and you did. Yet here you were in Madrid, feeling heartbroken and desperately wanting your boyfriend by your side. It had been a rough couple of weeks, you were jet lagged and tired, and although this was the second leg of the tour, and you had had a break, it was tiring. It was hard going to bed every night alone, when all you wanted was to cuddle your boyfriend.

Little did you know, Lewis was feeling the same. In fact he had missed you so much, he had told Angela and his publicist to cancel all events for a week, while he flew out to Madrid to see you. He had missed you, he had missed you more than he could put into words. But he also wanted to surprise you. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled down to Leigh Anne's contact, and sent her a text.

Lewis, Leigh Anne

Hey. Is Y/N asleep ?

Hey! No, she's in an outfit fitting.

Okay that's good. I need your help with something.

Sure how can I help ?

I want to surprise her by coming to see you guys in Madrid.

Oh thats wonderful ! She's been a little down in the dumps. I think she misses you.

I miss her too.

Let me know when, and I'll send a car to pick you up.

I'll be there on Saturday. Landing at 3:15 and I should be at the hotel by 4:30. Then I can get ready and surprise her at the show.

Okay done. I'll send the car around 5:30,so you can rest for a bit. You should be here by 6. The show's at 6:15.

Thank you! Can't wait : )

I'm so happy youre coming to see her ! I'll let the girls know.

*-*-*

As soon as he had finished texting, Lewis decided to start packing, the prospect of seeing you again sending a buzz of happiness running along his veins. God, he had missed you a lot. He turned to Roscoe, the dog sitting by his feet, looking up at his dad with his head cocked to one side. "I'm going to go see Mumma, Roscoe" he explained, smiling as the doggo barked in response. He wouldn't be able to take him to Madrid, he'd have to leave him with a dog sitter, but he couldn't feel too bad about it, since he had had Roscoe with him even when you were gone. And besides, Roscoe enjoyed the dog creche. He couldn't wait for Saturday.

Later in the evening, he sat down with a glass of wine, while the ringtone of your FaceTime rang through the empty house. After a few more seconds of ringing, the call was picked up, your tired face coming into view. "Hi darling" he said, noticing the tiredness in your eyes, and how much you were struggling to keep them open. "Hi bubs. Did you finish eating?" You asked, rubbing your eyes. "No, I've ordered soup" (did anyone get the reference ;) "Oh okay" was the reply. "What about you? What time is it?" "Its 9:20 AM" you replied, gently rubbing your eyes again, forcing yourself to stay awake.

"9:20? Thats pretty late baby. Why are you still sleepy?" "We were recording till 4 AM, so Im functioning on like 5 hours sleep right now" "Oh damn. Go back to sleep then baby" "Can't, rehearsal" was you reply, making him furrow his eyebrows. "Okay I guess. But don't tire yourself out" "I won't" "I love you" he said, smiling at you. "I love you"

*-*-*-*

The Madrid show was always a fun one. The fans were loud and you loved it. They were one of the best crowds you girls ever played for, and the show had its own adrenaline and excitement. But it was difficult to give a 100% when you were tired, but you really tried, you did. During Power, you hit highnotes you didnt think you could, during Woman Like Me you danced like there was no tomorrow. During Wasabi, you brought your sass level up to a 1000. It was during Bounce Back that you caught sight of a very familiar face in the audience. Unable to actually grasp if you had actually seen Lewis, you turned to Jade, who was on your side, and looked back at the crowd and back to her, asking for confirmation.

The smirk she gave you was answer enough. After that, focusing on giving an excellent performance increased tenfold. Every swirl of your hips, every flip of your hair, every wink you threw at the audience, it was all five times sexier. In the crowd, your boyfriend was well aware of what you were doing, and it was fair to say that you were succeeding at it. He could feel an uncomfortable sensation around his pants region, as his cock twitched uncomfortably in his pants. He couldn't wait till the show was over, and you two could have a show of your own.

*-*-*

"That was amazing darling!" Lewis said, spotting the 5 of you in your dressing room. "Oh look its Mr. Loverboy!" Perrie said, cackling as you rolled your eyes at her, before running up to your lover and jumping into his arms. "Hiya Bub! I missed you!" "I missed you too love. That's why I surprised you. I couldn't stand another day without you at home" he said, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you stable as you jumped into his arms. A chorus of "awws" echoed throughout the room, as the girls watched your cute little interaction. What wasn't cute however was the comment Lewis made in your ear, hiding his face in your ear so that the girls couldn't see. "I can't wait to get back to the hotel. I saw the performance you were putting on for me baby. You have no idea how hard I got, how uncomfortable I was standing in front of so many people when all I really wanted to do was fuck you"

You could feel your mouth become dry, and your heartbeat quicken, and you could feel the area between your thighs become wet. You tightened your grip around him, letting your crotch rub against his very softly. "I think it's time to go" you mumbled against his ear. "Okay girls, as lovely as it was to see you, I think it's time we go back to the hotel. I'm pretty worn out from travelling as well" "Yeah I'm pretty tired too" you replied, faking a large yawn. "Alright then, we'll see you guys tomorrow!" Leigh Anne said, leaning forward to give you a hug. After you finished hugging all the girls, the two of you made your way to the car, eagerly waiting to get back home.

The car ride home was tense. The tension was apparent in the air, reverberating through the air, choking you in a way you revelled in. The air was thick with tension, and it was suffocating you in the best way possible. It was almost too much to take. When the hotel came into sight, you practically leapt out of the car, and rushed to the door, an equally ruffled Lewis beside you. But he was not going to give in to you so easily. He enjoyed seeing you flustered. And he was not a person that gave someone what they wanted when they asked for it,no. He was going to have you desperate for it. Smirking to himself, he made his way to the reception, grabbing you by the waist as he went.

Throwing him a confused look you followed, slightly frustrated. "Hello sir, how can I help you?" the man at the reception asked, eyes going slightly wide as he recognized the two of you. "Hi! I just wanted to ask, till what time is your pool and spa open?" He asked, sliding his hand down to the back of your dress. "The pool closes at 10 pm sir, and the spa at 9 pm. We open the pool at 7 am and the spa at 11pm"he replied, struggling to maintain his professionalism as he spoke to one of the best drivers in Formula 1. "Alright thank you. And what time does breakfast start?" Lewis asked, hand pressing down on your ass, ever so discreetly. "Breakfast is from 6-10 am sir" "Thank you so much"

Next to him, you were fuming. Of course he was going to ask questions to which he already knew the answers to. A painful throb between your legs made you let out a small whimper, and the man at the reception looked at you with concern in his eyes. "Ma'am are you alright?" He asked, eyeing your stiff posture and tense state. "Yes, just tired, thank you" you replied, a little stiffly, but it was hard to concentrate when Lewis's promise of fucking you senseless kept replaying in your mind. "Alright then, good night" Lewis said, biting back a smirk at your flustered state. He knew getting you all riled up would lead to some seriously earth shattering sex, and he couldn't wait. But first, he definitely wanted to tease you, to push you over the edge, just a little more.

Your room was on the 16th floor, and as the two of you made your way into the elevator, he eyed you up and down, eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts. The minute the door shut, he pushed you against the wall, capturing your lips in a steamy kiss you'd be remembering the next day. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing hard, eliciting a moan from your lips. The moment your lips parted, he was pushing his tongue into yours, his other hand coming up to pull on your hair roughly, relishing in the gasp that left your lips. As suddenly as he started, he stopped, pulling back and standing almost nonchalantly against the wall.

Trying to wrap your head around what happened, you gripped the wall with your hand, feeling your legs grow weak to a point where you felt like you couldn't stand on your own. You could feel your wetness dripping, threatening to run down your thighs, as the throbbing became even more painfully exciting. You looked down at the floor, eyes closing as your frustration grew more and more by the second. Finally, with a little 'ding', the elevator stopped at the 16th floor. The moment the door opened you stepped out on wobbly legs, trying your best to walk properly. But of course, that wasn't going to happen. As you turned one long corridor, Lewis suddenly grabbed your waist, pushing you against the wall again, to reach down and suck on your neck. You let out a gasp, and tried to run your crotch against his, but the retaliated with a slap to your ass, smirking when a high pitched moan left your lips. Lifting you up against the wall, he mumbled against your ear "the key card" your clouded mind was unable to process the words, too consumed by slight relief you were getting. "Get the key card baby" he repeated. This time you noted it, reaching down to his pants pocket to pull out the key card. You couldn't resist running your hand over his cock, feeling how rock hard he was. The thought of him fucking you senseless returned, and you let out a groan.

Grabbing the card from your hand, he opened the door, propping you up against the door in your bedroom. His eyes were filled with a raw, animal desire, as he dropped the card on the floor and reached up to unzip your dress. He ripped the zipper down, your dress falling to the floor in a crumpled heap. He locked his eyes on your heaving chest, hand reaching up to grab your chin, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hand slid up your torso, reaching behind to unhook the red lacy bra you were wearing, letting it drop to the floor as he took in the glorious sight in front of him. You waited, wanting him to just touch you, but he just stared, eyes looking into yours, clearly saying "beg for it"

You couldn't help the soft "please" that left your lips, too desperate for some sort of touch. "Please what?' Lewis said, tightening his grip on your waist. "Please" was all you could say again, nearly whimpering again at the rough look in his eyes. "Use your words baby. Now, please what?" "Please just touch me!" You finally gasped out, moaning loudly when he licked a stripe down your chest before taking your right tit into his mouth. His hand fondled the left one, running his thumb over your erect nipple, the rough pad of his thumb sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His mouth sucked on the skin of your tit, before moving down to bite down on your nipple. You gasped again, pain and pleasure coursing through your body as his tongue ran over your nipple over and over till it nearly felt raw. He switched his actions, moving his mouth to your left tit instead, letting his hand harshly fondle the other. He continued the same process of biting, licking and sucking, till he was satisfied with himself. "I fucking love this baby. Seeing you all wet and needy for me. So what do you want? My mouth? My fingers? My cock? Or does my baby want them all ?" He asked, watching as your pupils dilated and you let out a strangled moan.

You let your crotch rub against his thigh, gasping when the friction went straight to your core. "Look at you darling. I asked you what you what you wanted, and you picked my thighs? Well, I want to see you dripping. I want to see you cum on my fingers, my mouth, my thighs and especially on my cock. I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again till you can't even stand on your own fucking legs. I want your thighs to be shaking around my head. I want to see you moan and groan and scream my name so loud, by tomorrow everyone in this hotel will know my name, because you'll spend all night screaming it" you moaned again, his words going straight to your core."Please Lewis, God, just make me cum please!" The desperation of your cry was enough for him to carry you to the bed, dropping your body onto the soft mattress.

He pulled of shirt, unbuttoning every button so you could see him do it. He could see your eyes grow dark, as his compass tattoo came into sight. You had told him it was one of your favourites, and he had used it against you ever since you had told him that. Smirking at you, he climbed onto the bed, lying down between your legs. You pushed yourself up against the headboard, spreading your legs wide for him. His eyes grew dark, as your core came into his view, shimmering with your juices. A near animalistic growl left his mouth, the sound hitting your core. He moved so that he was situated right in front of your core. He let his eyes take in the sight of you in front of him, snapping back to reality when you let out a groan of frustration. Throwing you a devilishly reassuring smile, he inched neared and nearer, till his nose was nearly touching your clit. Then he just lay there. Not moving. You could feel your heartbeat hammering against your chest, chest heaving up and down, an alarming intense feeling growing in your tummy. Finally, when it became too much you let out a small scream of frustration "Oh for fucks sake Lewis please just fuck me!" Your outburst brought a smile to his face. "Oh I will. Just not yet" and with that, he ran a finger along your slit, before finally slipping it into you. You let out a moan, finally getting the friction you had been desperate for. His fingers circled your clit, thumb gently pressing down, before he removed it,only to slam it back down on your sensitive clit, earning a scream of pleasure from you.

He slipped a second finger into you, scissoring around your clit, as your desperate cries of "oh, oh baby! Fuck, fuck lewis-" were lost in the heat of the moment. He leaned his head down to your core, letting his tongue run along your slit too, before licking around it, collecting your wetness on his tongue, before letting it harshly circle your clit. You bucked up into his mouth, feeling his tongue wrap around your clit. He sucked the nub harshly, his fingers still moving in and out of you. "Oh God, Oh GOD, Lew-I- oh! Oh God!" Your broken moans were music to his ears as he sucked your clit into his mouth. You could feel a strange intensity growing in your stomach, feeling a lot stronger than your usual orgasm. The band in your tummy was threatening to snap, but you needed that something more to help it snap. That something more came when Lewis sucked your clit into his mouth, letting it rest in between his teeth, before flicking it with his tongue.

With a cry of "Oh fucking hell, Lew-" you camr gushing into his mouth, your juices coating his fingers and gushing onto his tongue, as he let you ride out your orgasm on his deadly skilled tongue. Well, he had got his wish. Your thighs were shaking around his head, as your body tried to come to terms with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your body. Looking down, you saw him with his painfully hard cock, grinding down on the sheet, as he let out a moan at the relief the bedsheets gave him. Raising an eyebrow, you patted your thigh, signaling him to come over to you. "You loved on me so well bubs. But I can see how hard you are. Do you want to use me to get off?" You asked, watching the effect you had on him. All he could do was nod, as you sat up on your knees. "Stand up" you ordered, getting up from the bed as well.

You walked over to the wall, letting your body rest against it. Somewhat confused, Lewis followed you, standing in the space between your legs. "I tried to get off using your thighs didn't I? I think you'll enjoy it as much as I did. So use me. Use my thigh. Get off" looking at you in pure shock, your boyfriend moved forward, groaning when you pushed your leg against his throbbing cock. He relished in the friction, slowly beginning to move against your leg, moaning when he began to rub against your leg. He began to hump your leg faster, as the pleasure began to build up in his body, before you reached your hand down to cup his length in your hands, moaning when you realized your fingers didn't quite meet. You ran your fingers along his length. You pumped him, letting your thumb circle his sensitive tip, eliciting a soft whine from him. You circled faster, moving down to your knees, and letting your tongue run up his shaft very softly. Above you, Lewis slammed his hands against the wall, groaning when you took him into your mouth.

But a part of him still wanted to cum inside when he was fucking you (in a condom, because wrap it before you tap it) so he pulled you back up, smirking when you whined. "I know baby, but I just really wanna fuck you now. Back on the bed please, unless you want me to take you here against this wall" practically running, you clambered onto the bed. You watched as Lewis pulled out a condom, ripping the packet open before climbing back on top of you. He let his hand rest on your hip, eyes temporarily losing some of the animalistic need that had been present in them. Leaning down, he connected your lips together in a kiss, a searing, intense kiss that took your breath away. "Ready love?" He asked, looking into your eyes, looking to see if there was even a slight hint that you didn't want this. But you did.

With a sudden jolt, he thrust himself into you, groaning when your warm walls clamped down on him. His hips thrust into you, starting off slow, letting you adjust to his massive length. "My sweet baby,taking me so well. Does it feel good?" You couldn't even respond, mouth agape, as his the pace of his thrusts increased. "Answer me" he said, suddenly stopping. Almost crying out at the loss of pleasure, you looked at him with desperation. "Yes yes, fuck it feels so good, please don't stop!" "Thats all you had to say baby" he said, before pushing in again, slowly. Then, he pulled back out. Looking at him in confusion, you gasped when he slammed back into you, a high pitched moan of "Lewis!" leaving your lips. He moved so that he had a better hold of your hips, rocking the both of you back and forth, the intensity of his thrusts was so much that the bed knocked back against the wall. What he wasn't expecting was for you to take his left thumb up to your mouth, running your tongue over it before sucking on it.

Moaning, he started thrusting into you even harder, shifting so that he was directly hitting your g spot. "Oh, God ! Oh fuck, Baby that feels so good please keep going keep-oh!" The cry that left your lips was so loud, you were sure Perrie in the room next to yours had heard you. "Fuck baby, you take me so well" Lewis said, as he nearly hammered your g spot. He was so, so damn close to cumming, and when you leant up and bit a sensitive spot on his neck, he came, gushing into the guard between you two, but he wanted you to cum to, so he reached down to pinch and rub your clit, still riding out his orgasm in you, moaning when you came with a scream. He winced when your core spasmed on his sensitive cock, and he pulled out slowly, before collapsing next to you. Panting, you curled up to him, letting your hand rest on his compass tattoo. "Okay that was Godlike" you said, earning a tired laugh from your lover.

"Yeah it really was. I missed you" he said, allowing you to nuzzle into his neck, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "I missed you too" you replied, kissing the tattoo. "I love you too" As you lay there together, still revelling in the moment, your phone buzzed. Reaching over to check it, you saw your groupchat with the girls flooding with messages.

-*-*-

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Y/N, I'm filing a noise complaint. 🍆

Jade ✨ - Pez 😂 let them be. It's been a while for her.

Leigh 🦋- She really got some tonight huh? 😏

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️- LOL she did !! And it was obviously some goooood 'some' *wink wink*

Jade ✨- I could hear em too, and Im on the other end of the hall.

Leigh 🦋 - I know I did too! Must be some damn good sex. 😏

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Go Y/N !!

Jade ✨ - Can't wait till she reads this.

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Are they still going?!

Leigh 🦋 - No 😂 she's reading the messages. Y/N!! Yoohoo!

You - yes I'm here 🖕🏽

Jade ✨ - Did you have fun babe 😏

You - ..... yes

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - babe you can't really say no because we heard you

You- Im not saying I didn't have fun. But you guys need to calm down.

Leigh 🦋 - But its funnn

You - okay byeeee ❤

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Going for a round 2 😏?

You - okay I said bye.

Leigh 🦋 - she is !!

Jade ✨ - Go babe !

You - I need to leave this group.

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - No we love you !! ❤

Leigh 🦋 - Yeah don't leave us ❤

Jade ✨- Don't leave meee ! ❤

You - Haha I'd never leave you girls ❤ now bye.

Jade ✨ - bye babe !

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - bye you sexy minx 😏

Leigh - bye hun 💙

*-*-*

Smiling to yourself, you put your phone away, to see Lewis looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Who was it?" "Just the girls" you said, cuddling back up to him. "What did they say?" Giggling, you looked up to him and kissed his neck. "They said they're going to file a noise complaint. And they asked me if we were going for a round two" "Were we really that loud?" He asked, looking at you in surprise. "Yeah, even Leigh heard us and she's at the end of the hall!" "Damn" Lewis said laughing. "Well," he said, looking at you again, with a cheeky look in his eye, "they were right about one thing" "And what is that?" You asked, smiling at him mischievously. "We are going for a round two"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

@maxverstappenx @grandestrategia (because you are worth it 🦋💙)

[lilkermit14]

Lavender & Mint

Fem!reader x Pero Tovar 

Synposis: In the conventional village of Cullfield lived an unconventional woman who served as an apothecary for the townsfolk. Stubborn and set in her ways, the woman of three tens remains unmarried and childless and plans to continue as such for the rest of her life, much to the horror and confusion of the village. But this unconventional woman has some surprises in store for her when an unconventional man named Pero Tovar rides into town, an event that will change both her and his plans forever—and may flip Cullfield upside down too.

Notes: Idk why I kept mentioning poop complications this chapter but I’m sorry and enjoy. It’s been a while but the CHAPTER is here. Please reblog!!!!

General Warnings: minor injuries, slow-burn, eventual smut, blood, childbirth

For this chapter: Non-sexual references to poop, mention pregnancy, murder, implicit brief reference to infanticide or child abandonment, pre-marital pregnancy and it’s complications in the 1400s, religious “morals”. 

Chapter 5: Garlic 

Last chapter // Next chapter

“When was the last time you passed bowels, Mister Ashdown?” you inquire, pressing on the old man’s stomach knowing you have found the root cause of his stomach issues. He blinks for a moment thinking as he lays on your observation table, before telling you, “quite some time I’m afraid.”

“I see,” you move your hands away putting your hands on your hips, “well, it seems that you just have a case of constipation––burdensome but not something hard to fix or that will have you laying on your deathbed.”

“You sure?” he asks, almost confused, moving to rise up from the table by himself only for you to come to his assistance. You clarify yourself, “Yes, you have many signs that point to it. It can be caused by a lack of competitive foods in your diet and is more likely with old age.”

“I’m not that old,” He interjects, but you compete, “Yes, but you're old enough for a blockage sir––you’ll be glad to know you’ll live to be truly old as long the burden is treated.”

He huffs now in a sitting position with legs dangling from the table, “so what do you have so i’ll shit.”

You huff at his language, “standard garlic will help move the process along, and I’m suggesting you make sure to eat more greens and berries to clear your system.”

You always assumed that you were let free to discuss any matters with your patients when they were the only ones in the shop, as no one else resided in your residence besides you. But that arrangement had changed and you were not the only one that resided in your home, “If my cock and bowels stop working just have someone put me out of my misery.”

You turn rigid and scandalized to see the face of Pero Tovar standing in your back entrance of the shop—entered unbeknownst to you through quiet steps and a lack of clear view. Mister Ashdown has no qualms defending himself, “I’m only five tens and if my cock doesn’t work how is my wife pregnant?”

You want to scream having to hear this conversation and did certainly not want to be reminded of the conversations you were subjected to by Farrah Ashdown. When the woman at four tens and five found out she was pregnant she spared no expense in telling you how it happened. You opted to rush him along before you could get his account of what he does with his wife, “okay sir here’s your supply get going now.”

“Enjoy the shit,” you hear Pero say and before mister ashdown can respond he is out your door. You turn to Pero fury and rage evident on your face as you are prepared to let the flames of hell loose on him. All he has is a stupid look on his face as he lets out the word, “what?”

“You bastard,” you begin pointing your finger at him moving towards him with menace in your voice towards a man that stands unbothered, “you do not talk to ANY of my clients in such manner especially in my shop.”

“Why is that hermosa? I would be rude to that man outside of your business, what makes your apothecary different?” He queries again with that name, only increasing your anger and distaste for him at the moment. With clenched teeth, you answer him, “I don’t care what you say to Mister Ashdown in town, but my shop is a place of respect––a place where anyone can come for health problems even if they are embarrassing. I want people to know they won’t be judged here because if they feel like they will be, they will come when it’s too late and I can’t do anything for them.”

Pero raises his brow at you, but lets you continue your rant uninterrupted, “When my mother was still alive, a young woman at ten and six came to us complaining of diarrhea, something she was embarrassed to talk about because it was gross and she did not want suitors to find out. Turns out she had sickness from a miasma––we took one look down the town well and discovered a deer had fallen in and died overnight.”

“That was lucky,” he comments, still invested in your story despite the vile nature of talking about excretion. You continue, “Yes, and we may not have caught it so soon if she didn’t come to us. The sickness is fast acting, in hours many more villagers could have been sick, but it was only her––and she lived.”

“Lived?” you smile at his question feeling pride at the healing powers your mom had and hope you live up to, “Yes, the sickness causes dehydration quickly but if you keep the person well hydrated and area clean to prevent reinfection––they will live. This summer she gave birth to her third child at my aid.”

“So their trust is important to you?” you give him a simple nod, glad he is understanding what you were asking of him. You turn to clean up the materials you had brought out to examine Mister Ashdown, not realizing that Pero was not done with questions, “Like how that woman came to you the other day crying in distress?”

You freeze––you had really thought the interest in Mariam had ended when William had first asked you about her the day after asking if she was okay. You nodded and told him it was just feminine needs and didn’t serve much interest in men, something that usually turned men away from asking questions. Well not Pero Tovar I guess, “Why was she crying?”

“It’s a complicated matt––”

“Things of safety are something I have to worry about you know,” He interjects, and you turn your head looking at him to see something serious cross his face, “I have to keep everyone in this village safe––you in particular hermosa––and I want to know if theres something you need to tell me.”

“Part of gaining trust is not telling personal information,” you counter, pulling together to formulate a lie, “It’s nothing of safety she was upset about something––she’s a friend of sorts to me.”

You can tell he doesn’t buy it––he can probably pull the full story together even though you doubt he’s heard a single thing about Mariam’s husband beating her––but he accepts, slouching and learning against a table in thought, “William and I may go for a short hunt––there's not much action in this town I’m afraid and we could use some fresh game.”

You nod, “If you catch any pigeon, I know how to handle it so it's not gamey.”

He huffs, “We're not very good hunters I’m afraid, so you’ll probably only get that or rabbit.”

–––––––––––––––––––

Pero Tovar had useful traits to him––like getting you pigeons––but he was mostly an annoyance. His mere presence always had you on edge, as you waited for something, something from him. It was usually something he said but if not it was his scent or stench rather of pine and something that was him. It was also his sloppy manner, the way he seemed raised with no table manners as he ate all your meals. He spoiled Mite, petting him and feeding him table scraps much to your despair. He was also too loud, his boots filling up the cottage and shop with noise, something that never usually happened.

You lent some time today to make more bread for the household, settling at your dining table and working the necessary ingredients for dough together. Mite lays in the corner, not doing his job as per usual and watching you with some sort of interest in the mannerisms of bread making, but he was likely just hoping for more food in the future. Kneading dough you begin to imagine the dough is Pero kneading your frustration into it. You press and it is his stupid broad shoulders that take up too much space. You pull, it’s the curls on the nape of his neck that are too unruly and untidy. You slam it down, it’s that stupid smile that appears on his face when you have entertained him. God you hate Pero Tovar.

“You may want to stop before you overwork the dough sweetheart,” You stop and see Mildred Becker staring at you with an amused look on her face. You huff Jesus, what does she want, “Sorry for my state, I didn’t hear you enter.”

“Don’t worry I understand too well––I always work out my anger into the dough,” you chuckle a little thinking about how a woman with too many children works out anger the same way as you––you definitely hate Pero Tovar, “I just stopped by because I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

You perk up, “Is Cateline suffering from baby blues again.”

“No, No thank the lord––we’ve been watching over her better this time,” Mildred rounds off, and you remember despite the grievances she gives you, she is a good mother to her children. She was the first to notice that something was wrong with her daughter after the birth and came to you to talk about it. From there Cateline was able to recover and enjoy motherhood, “Something with your house guest Pero Tovar has come to my attention.”

“What did he do,” You ask, prepared to beat Pero Tovar with your broom, but Mildred settles you, “nothing he did, just something someone is doing around him.”

You raise your brow at her beckoning her to continue, “You know Stanislava Rolfe?”

“Of course,” you affirm, surprised she is asking you such a question when you have treated everyone in Cullfield five times over. Mildred continues, “Yes well, She has begun to work at the Inn as a barmaid––she did well with charming Balthasar I guess.”

You were wondering why a poor farmer's daughter’s career path interested you, but you didn’t interject, “I happened to take a quick ale there with my husband, when I noticed something with her and Pero Tovar. You see she appeared extra flirtatious with him––and although barmaids usually are flirty with men in hopes for extra coin, it was more intentional.”

You frown, how could such a beautiful young girl be interested in such a disgusting brute, “Why is she interested in him?”

“Who knows? Many of the girls around Cullfield were excited to see unfamiliar battle-hardened men I supposed,” She ponders for a moment, “all we do know is that she is likely interested in him.”

“I don’t think he is interested in taking a wife,” You contest, brushing aside that Pero would have feelings for the young girl of two tens. Mildred just gives you a hardened stare, “He doesn’t have to be interested in matrimony to want something from her.”

Oh

“Was he showing interest back?” you dig trying to figure out the full extent of what you are formulating must be a whirlwind romance. Mildred hums, “no I suppose not, but sometimes men take persistent interest as a way to have a good time.”

You bite your lip remembering that Pero did not fornicate with prostitutes but barmaids, and feel a ball of ache and pain in your stomach at the thought. Mildred instates, “I came to you about this because I want you to try to stop it.”

“Stop it?”

“Yes, make it clear he is to not have such guests,” Mildred explains, and you can tell by her tone and expression you are in for some sort of story, “You know well enough that things go arigh when an unmarried woman gets pregnant, right.”

“Of course,” you remember the chaos that erupted in families when one of their daughters ended up pregnant, and the hasty weddings that came from it. But Mildred had a different story, “although most of the time it gets swept under the rug with a quick marriage and everyone just chooses to ignore it––horrid things can happen when there's not one.”

Mildred sits down at the nearby table, in clear thought of something dark and you go to sit down at a nearby chair, “When I was about ten and eight, and old enough to understand these things, a girl was taken advantage of by a soldier in our village. She was ten and six, and him far older so he should have had the wisdom not to mess with her. What mattered was after it happened, he left with his troop and was never seen in my home village again. She got pregnant, and tried to hide it at first––her mom was dead and she had no older sisters or aunts to go to, so she was afraid to go to her father. When it became too obvious, hate inspired awful things in the leaders of the village, and by the time she gave birth it accumulated.”

Mildred takes a moment to pause, emotions brewing inside her and you feel yourself frozen in place, “she tried to talk to them, pleading, saying he pressured her––persuaded her, but they all pointed and said witch and condemned her son too. She was burn’t at the stake, and her son––well he was never seen again.”

A pause fills the air as you sit in shock, digesting what Mildred has told you, “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

Mildred huffs, “I’m sorry too, I made sure to get a husband that would get me out of that village and landed a good one on the way––I had seen what that village did to women and children for the sake of moral value and did not intend to stay so my daughters could see too. Adultery is a two person crime that only one party, the feminine one, receives punishment for.”

“So that's why Pero and Stanislava are of such concern to you?” You assume, and Mildred nods, “Although I think Cullfield is of better standing, I don’t desire to find out what they would do if such a case erupted. The girl may be doing this because she intends to capture a man with a better job, but mercenaries rest for a few women and not those of ten and eight.”

“I can understand her intentions I suppose,” you contemplate, believing that she doesn’t hold much true interest in him, but for a better life. Mildred hums, “so is there a chance you can talk to Pero about it?”

“I already established that he is to not bring guests into my home, and I doubt they would find a secluded enough place otherwise,” you reassure, standing up, “I can even remind him today if you would like.”

“That would be good,” Mildred agrees, joining you in standing and allowing you to guide her to the door, “be on the lookout too if you see her come preying––even though he lacks true interest.”

“I will,” you say, and somewhere in your heart you feel prepared to beat Stanislava Rolfe with your broom instead of Pero.

________________

Gardening was no easy task but it was the most necessary task the runner of an apothecary and a household had. Today your tending to crops was more focused on your food supply rather than collecting the necessary ingredients to keep your shop running. You're pleased to see that the last of your harvest grew well, and know that your winter stock will last even with your house guest. You had already pulled out all the carrots, and beets, and had shucked the vines wounding your house of beans and brussel sprouts. You were now left to work at the tough vines of the gourds and squash, planning on leaving the single pumpkin for Pero to handle––who should be on his way home from helping Balthasar with something at his inn.

Standing up with the final gourd in hand––you see something that fills you with immediate displeasure and sickens you to your core. Pero is walking up to your house pursued by Stanislava. You don’t quite know why you feel this angry at him; maybe it’s because you gave him explicit reminders on conduct or maybe––something else. Seeing the near, and well hearing Stanislava, you attempt to think fast to try to get her to leave. Greeting them both in an unnatural kind manner, “Pero, Stanislava, greetings.”

Pero gives you an immediate strange look while his shadow is oblivious and greets you back, “I was just telling Pero this wonderful stor––”

“Oh I must ask how is your rash healing up,” You feel like clapping your hands over your lips the moment the words fly out of your mouth. Stanislava stops in her tracks staring at you blankly, “what?”

“The one I gave you the ointment for––on your groin,” Oh my God what were you doing.

Stanislava turns bright red, “Good thank you––I––I have things to tend to at home, good evening you two.”

Stanislava hurries off, and an amused smile erupts on Pero’s face, “thank you for finally scaring that crow off––she’s been yapping my ear off with nonsense for weeks––I guess you're my scarecrow.”

“Excuse me?” scarecrow, you were going to kill this man. He smiles, a genuine smile, “Yes you scared off my crow––like a scarecrow would. Plus you're covered in leaves right now.”

“Do not call me that”

“Fine mi espantapájaros”

“I swear I’ll smother you in your sleep”

“Is that a true promise for you? Like how you promised not to tell customers private information yet just shouted about the crow’s crotch rash,” at that your body works on it’s own, taking the gourd in your hand and flinging it at Pero’s chest. It was a magnificent shot, and caused the vegetable to break and splatter it’s internal organs onto Pero’s chest and neck. Pero steps back from the impact and looks down on the goop he’s now covered in, “Now, no good espantapájaros does that.”

You press your palm to your face, “Just cut the pumpkin for me and bring it inside, you could use a good bath anyway, your stench is disgusting.”

“I do not smell,” he retorts, and you ignore him, bringing inside your harvest. You really do hate Pero Tovar.

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

Apothecary’s feelings––hate or nah yall?

Garlic is use to treat a lot of ailments in Arab traditional medicine, including  heart disease, high blood pressure, arthritis, toothache, infections, and––as seen in this fic––constipation. Listen, I know the constipation part is true because I ate a pesto made with raw garlic and LORD did I shit. Anything else, not quite sure but hey worth a shot if you are desperate. 

It is also seen as an immune booster for colds and coughs––in fact if you are congested from a cold putting a clove of garlic in each nostril can clear that shit OUT.  

Garlic is also believed to help asthma symptoms. IDK if it actually is true but that’d be iconic because my mom loves garlic and she has asthma. 

Garlic is my favorite seasoning. I put it in my soup. I put it in my eggs. I put it in my ramen. I put it in my burgers. I put it in my cooch––

taglist:

@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal @maybege

[theolsentimes]

Mary-Kate Olsen's Singular Style

She came to fame as a twin, but the actress's cultish look is entirely her own. Here, with Lauren Hutton, she pays homage to another fashion inspiration, Grey Gardens. Written by Laura Brown, with photography by Peter Lindbergh (Harper's Bazaar, 2007)

VIEW GALLERY

Mary-Kate Olsen may be the only young actress who breezes into her local Starbucks wearing towering, fashion-fierce Balenciaga boots, who arrives at her latest premiere (in Mary-Kate's case, for the new season of Showtime's Weeds, in which she plays a devout Christian with a pot fetish) sporting an oversize cross, and whose favorite band is Led Zeppelin. She may, in fact, be the only young actress who knows who Led Zeppelin is. MK, as she is known to her friends and family, is also a punctual and professional sort. She arrives for a poolside tea in Los Angeles 10 minutes early, ordering a hot chocolate while explaining her fetish for all things sweet — "I'm a candy girl, like Tootsie Rolls and Swedish Fish" — and objecting when the waiter tries to take the sugar bowl away. She is wearing a nautical striped T-shirt (her mom's, from the '70s), tucked into two black Wolford slips rolled down and turned into a tight, Robert-Palmer-video-style mini, and multicolored sparkly Christian Louboutin stilettos. She's just had her hair colored, returning to a sunnier shade after some experiments with both peroxide ("I woke up one morning and was like, I want white-trash hair today") and the dark side (an auburn-haired near-Goth moment last year). She's carrying a large black fringed leather Prada tote — she doesn't do small bags — and her fingers are covered with rings, most notably two vintage coiled gold snakes stacked on top of each other. ("They remind me of twins, sort of double headed.") Altogether, the effect is less her famed "bag-lady chic" than an edgy, body-conscious, and, yes, sexy silhouette. If she weren't 21, she could be 40. And French.

Few people need reminding that Mary-Kate — with her twin sister, Ashley — literally crawled into celebrity aged nine months (courtesy of Full House) and has not been out of the spotlight ever since. She has been a celebrity for more than two decades. Perhaps that's one reason she seems as if she came out of the womb worldly, the textbook old soul. "Yeah," she says with a small shrug. "I get that a lot." With all of that attention and all of the money (her and Ashley's company, Dualstar, has famously become a "billion-dollar business"), Mary-Kate could easily have ended up the type who wears pink terry cloth and carries a variety of small dogs. "Could you imagine?" she says with the politest version of a snort. "No way." She credits her exceptionally close-knit family (she has five siblings) and, interestingly, early stardom with helping her keep her perspective. "I think it helped that I started in front of the camera, so it didn't come as a shock. If I was a teenager and was thrown into the spotlight, I don't know how I would react, to be honest." Though the tabloids are all too keen to brand her a skinny, nervous deer in the headlights, in person Mary-Kate is easy in her skin, confident and surprisingly tactile, curling up in her seat and touching you on the arm to make a point. She laments the generic style of most actresses and cites only men as style inspirations: "Heath Ledger, Johnny Depp. Men, they just dress the way they want, and they don't think about Who Wore It Best." She doesn't much care for Who Wore It Best, noting she avoids those pages by "wearing vintage so often. I just dress the way I feel instead of looking for what's the new handbag." If Mary-Kate and Ashley have their way, more people will be wearing clothes and carrying bags the way they do. They have just shown the fifth collection of their ready-to-wear line, the Row, and recently launched a contemporary label, Elizabeth and James, named after a sister and a brother. The Row's holiday collection (in stores next month) is a slick mix of skinny leather pants, razor-cut blazers, butter-soft, slouchy tees, and a destined-to-be-cultish pullover fur. Lauren Hutton, who stars in the Row's Spring '08 look book, says, "The clothes are extraordinary. A man I was with just loved them. The pieces are just so genius, soft like a baby's skin. Simple minimalist stuff, but really spectacular." Mary-Kate, designer, faces an interesting challenge. She has to marry Dualstar — which has made its fortune selling tween-tastic DVDs and pastel Mary-Kate and Ashley T-shirts at Wal-Mart — with her increasingly edgy and subversive taste. Dualstar executives, some of whom have worked with her since she was a child, often nag her, mom-style, about pulling her hair back "or wearing a color," she says with a laugh. "I had this event recently, and I was like, They're going to be so happy that I'm wearing ... purple. I actually have to think about those things, though, you know, so I don't get trashed." Get trashed sometimes she does. Hutton says, "Once in a while, she'll wear something and I'll think, Oh, baby doll, take another look. But to have the bravery, to take the chance to do that, is pretty wonderful. She is making her own way, which is hardly ever done in Hollywood." Of Mary-Kate's penchant for gigantic Balenciaga heels, Jenji Kohan, the creator of Weeds, says, laughing, "I'd be like, 'It's Tuesday. Do you really want to be wearing those shoes?' But she pulls it off." Designer Giambattista Valli, a friend, says, "She likes to take risks, but because she has such strong personal style, she always manages to make it work. Even if she had nothing on, she'd have style." And MK chic is spreading. "Sometimes I'll look at people or at a magazine and I'll do a double take because I'm like, Oh, my God, that's my outfit, but that's not me," Mary-Kate says. Playing with her wire-rimmed aviators, she jokes wryly that she should have bought shares in Ray-Ban. (She and Chloë Sevigny pretty much brought back white '80s Wayfarers.) She tends to fall in love with a look, then wear it until she's done. "If I put together a good outfit, I'll wear it for three days and then switch it up with a blazer," she says. "I still love my vintage jeans, my tights, and my pants, though." She didn't start wearing heels, in fact, until a couple of years ago: "I kept watching Ashley walk around in them so gracefully, and I'm such a klutz. But I ended up loving heels, and I don't usually take them off." She wears precisely one pair of flat shoes: Chanel's knee-high patent-leather gladiator sandals. This season, it's Balenciaga's fall collection — all of it — that has Mary-Kate obsessed. She is close to designer Nicolas Ghesquière and says, "He is so talented, but he's the nicest, most down-to-earth guy, and that makes everything he does more brilliant. I bought everything, but I haven't got anything yet," she says like a girl impatiently waiting for Christmas. Will she wear the new pieces with her infamous clodhopper boots? "Uh-huh. Wore them the other day, actually." Mary-Kate always goes with her gut, even if some people (back to those tabloids) don't quite get it. "The tabloids say things about me? What do they say?" she asks archly. "People are going to write what they want, and everyone's going to have their own idea of who I am. But I'm not trying to be friends with the people who are reading them, really." After a rough couple of years filled with near-forensic scrutiny of her weight, she'll have you know that she does eat. "This is not going to sound good," she laughs, "but I like making crispy tofu sticks with peanut sauce. I love my sashimi and my salmon and my vegetables." She observes, "Stress plays a big role in how I look day-to-day. I've always been very active — Pilates, yoga. I grew up horseback riding every day for hours. I love dancing. I usually last longer than anyone on the dance floor." A common image of Mary-Kate has her emerging from a coffee joint with an oversize cup. "I always get creamed for having my Starbucks cup," she says, sighing. "But the only time people get photos of me is when I'm getting coffee, when I can't sneak away from the camera." She also resents the pictorial implication that she and Ashley are dilettantes. "They take photos of us going into our offices, and it's 'Mary-Kate and Ashley shopping again.' But I'm going to work for eight hours, and we're working so hard. ..." She trails off. "It just shows how people want to think of you." Mary-Kate is not above celeb watching herself, however. Newly obsessed with Victoria Beckham, she notes she avidly watched Beckham's Coming to America documentary: "She's running around in a bikini and heels, and I'm like, Oh, my God! I do that, too!" How positively Grey Gardens. "I run around my house naked with heels all the time. It's so funny. All my friends will tell you I love running around in kimonos and jewelry or naked with jewelry." More people will be watching Mary-Kate soon, thanks to her role in the Emmy-nominated Weeds. "I am a very good Christian girl," she says with a wink. "She has her moral beliefs — and she happens to smoke pot." Of her newest cast member, Kohan adds, "Mary-Kate is complicated. She's a big celebrity, a huge media icon, but you have to separate the media images from someone who has the same issues, the same desires, as anyone else." Of course, Mary-Kate's image, in all its incarnations — from high fashion to small screen — is her strongest asset. And she has yet to settle on one. "I feel like I've lived 10 different lives already and I'm only 21," she says, almost as a reminder to herself. "But I also feel like I'm entering a new chapter." One thing on which she is clear, though: She doesn't need to be looked at all the time. What would she do for a day if she were invisible? "I would probably go to a restaurant with my friends, who would be able to see me, of course," she adds pragmatically, "and I would sit outside and enjoy a nice lunch with them. Then I would walk down the street." The old soul takes a sip of her little-girl-sweet hot chocolate. "That's what I would do."

[nanamikentoslutt]

Hey I really like your writing so far! I saw you were open to asks and I was wondering if you could write one about Jean for me 🥺 Id love one where we lose our virginity together if that’s okay for you! I know he is a secret sweetheart with a horse cock!

OMG! Thank you so much, this is my first ever ask!! I hope you like it :) also I agree there is no doubt Jean has a horsecock 🥵

Word count is 2.9k sorry I got carried away lol

THIS IS 18+

Warnings; Oral, vaginal sex, fluff, smut

Jean x Fem!reader

“Shh, we have to be quiet, y/n.”

Jean giggles, pulling you into the sleeping quarters, vacant from the rest of the scouts being occupied either on duty or in the mess hall. He grabs you inside and pulls you close to him, eagerly kissing your lit up face which had turned red from all the laughing you two had been doing on your way there. He cupped your face in both hands, moving your lips together through a smile he slowly started to pace backwards further into the room, you eagerly followed, your bodies both moving in perfect unison with one another as you were excited to finally have your alone time with Jean.

You had been dating for a few months now and only became official within the last week or so, your fellow comrades teasing you both for not recognising everyone knew you were made for each other even before you guys did. You and Jean took it slow the first few weeks, getting to know each other but soon enough your primal instincts kicked in and whenever you got a moment alone you’d be all over each other. Jean found himself sneaking you into empty equipment rooms just to hungrily devour you, running his hands up your body with no sense of true direction, just desperate to feel your body on his. You also felt the same sense of urgency to feel Jean’s touch, his tall, broad frame wrapping himself around you as you would desperately rub between his thigh, working yourself up as your clumsy and greedy kisses turned your heated equipment room meetings into olympic style make-out sessions. You were both so desperate for each other and the pace at which you kept it was not only because of that, but mainly because you two never had time for this sort of stuff. With training and expeditions, as well as living and sleeping in a room with 20 other people, you never had the time, or more importantly you never had the privacy. Jean had no issue kissing or cuddling you in front of the other scouts, occasionally slipping his hand under the covers to rub your clothed cunt, watching you try and keep composed while mid conversation with Sasha. Jean loved to tease you like that. Seeing your innocent face start to grow hot with excitement and a hint of embarrassment. Jean would rub just deep enough that you started to get wet beneath your clothes but not fast enough so you’d actually cum in front of your friends, he knew not to take it that far, however many times he’d thought about that exact scenario when alone, rubbing his cock in a toilet stall somewhere.

Through your cautious acts and sneaky behaviour, you and Jean had done almost everything together you possibly could, except the big one. You’d never taken it far enough to actually fuck. That was something you both knew you wanted done right. Being a virgin you personally never felt too much sentiment towards “virginity” however after meeting Jean and falling in love with that big idiot you knew that even if it was something you’d feel indifferent about, you wanted it to be special, because it was with him. And Jean felt the same, he would act cocky in front of everyone when showing you off but deep down he was in love with you and being a virgin himself he held sex as something sacred. Jean liked to joke with Connie about how long he could go and how all the girls from his village called him “horse” for a reason. Connie would usually be skeptical about Jean’s big talk but after he landed you he considered he might not be a liar after all. You were good and kind to all the scouts and that's what everyone loved about you, but Jean was first hooked by the way you looked, he couldn’t deny confessing this to you once you’d been together for a while. He’d admit it was the way your hair flew past your neck when you used the ODM gear, embarrassingly crashing a few times from getting lost in a trance. Jean was fawning over you from the moment you two met, he’d stay awake at night going over each and every one of the small conversations you’d had that day, deciphering whether or not he’d come off too bold or too rash. Wanting to impress you but not wanting to scare you away. 

Whatever it was that drew you to him was now the reason you two were pouncing on each other in the sleeping quarters. Your body follows Jeans as he slightly hunched over to accommodate your height and softly hold your face in his. The feeling of excitement exuding your body as your now wet lips crashed into each other, your heads occasionally moving from left to right to switch up the position of the kiss. Placing both hands on his chest you lightly push back to look up at him,

“I heard Captain Levi is holding a meeting in the mess hall…”

You say, a grin on your face that Jean is now trying to read, unsure of what you’re getting at. His half lidded eyes look down to your face, his lips slightly plump from where you’d both been so aggressive.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna go to that,” Jean pulls you back into him and starts moving his lips down your neck, his hands wrapped around your waist. You roll your eyes to yourself at your completely clueless boyfriend.

“Jean, I said the Captain is holding a meeting, meaning…”

The penny finally drops, Jean takes his wet mouth off your neck to look at you, his eyes widening.

“Meaning we have about thirty-five extra minutes?”

He smiles down at you, looking at his devious girlfriend with pure lust and motivation. Thinking about how you’d taken the time out to plan this particular meeting with Jean made his cock start to twitch, knowing how badly you wanted him only made him want you more, which was truly saying something.

“Yes, thirty-five or so minutes… Do you think that’s enough time for us to…”

Your voice trails off as Jean continues sucking on your neck, leaving little marks that make you whimper into him. His hefty palms running up and down the curves of your body. He caresses your ass in both hands and gives them a slight squeeze, keeping them there he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck moving down your chest, then navel and now on his knees looking up at you he worships your cunt over your uniform. Giving little pecks around your hips, lovingly rubbing his hands behind the back of your thighs.

“Come on baby, let’s take these off shall we?”

Getting flustered under Jean’s touch, you nod and let out a “mhmm” gesturing for him to remove the bottom half of your uniform.

He does so carefully, putting one hand out towards yours to help you step out of your trousers, moving the discarded piece of clothing to the side with your foot. Inspecting the wet patch that had now formed in your underwear, Jean grazed his lips over the fabric, causing you to whimper out his name. Not being able to wait any longer he used two fingers from either hand to pull the hem of your underwear all the way down, you cock your leg and allow him to place them to the side. Your now glistening pussy in eye view for Jean he soaks your body in. Putting both hands on either side of your thighs and grabbing the fat gingerly, eyes wide on your beautiful folds.

“Fuck…” He breathes over you, breath fanning your cunt. “Look at my pretty girl getting so wet for me.”

You bite your lower lip at the sensation of Jean calling you a pretty girl, always making you blush no matter how many times he’d tell you. You run your hands through his hair as he starts to slip his wet tongue between your slick, moving up and down in a slow motion a few times before coming to find your sensitive spot. Your grip on his hair starts to tighten as he circles your clit, compelling you to give out a low groan. Jean loved every inch of you but could spend hours just lapping up your cum his mouth, worshipping your delicate little cunt. Seeing how aroused just his tongue could make you made him pull his hand down his trousers to give some relief to his aching cock,grabbing the tip and slowly jerking himself underneath his clothes while the other hands keeps you in place for his now sped up tongue on your swollen bud. 

Your moans help direct him into your core as he quickens the pace on his soaked muscle. Knowing exactly what you want and what you sound like when you’re close, Jean can feel you’re almost there. Your hands desperately grabbing and pulling at his hair while his head bobs up and down on your cunt, he takes his hand away from his cock to slip two of his digits inside your wanting hole. 

“Fuck, Jean…” 

You let out, being unable to keep your balance on the ground but his heavy capable hand keeping you in place. He curls his fingers to hit you in just the right spot, your body hunching over slightly you can feel the warm knot inside you begin to expel, out of nowhere your orgasm comes and a warm sensation runs to your head as Jean continues to finger fuck you with his mouth over your clit. He recognises the familiar reaction of your walls clenching in on him and moves his tongue down to lap up your juices.

“Fuck baby, did that feel good?”

Your cheeks now flustered and your neck damp from the sweat you’d worked up, you breathlessly nod, “Mmm, it felt so good, so good..”

Jean stands up, licking your cum from his fingers and using his thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth. He holds your trembling body in his, moving his hands down below your ass he hoists you up onto him and carries you over to the bed. Gently resting you on your back he comes up to the side of you and gives you a deep kiss. Slowly unbuttoning your shirt as he rests his head lazily on his hand, looking down at you he purrs “We don’t usually have this much time…” His fingers now on the final button, opening your shirt and revealing your bra, he unclasps the front and you adjust to help him take it off, now completely naked. 

His gentle fingers run up and down your torso as he looms over you, causing goosebumps along his trail.

“Baby…” Jean whispers in your ear. “Do you want to?”

Without having to say, you already knew what he meant. You thought about it for a brief moment, thinking about how you’d never get another chance like this for a while and how even though this wasn’t the picture perfect place for losing your virginity, you hadn’t bought into those kinds of fantasies anyway. You knew what you wanted, it was what you’d wanted for weeks, you wanted Jean to be the first to fuck you.

“I’m ready, if you are?”

You ask, propping yourself up on your elbows to give yourself a better view of Jean’s face.

“Oh, I’ve been ready baby.”

Jean teases, grabbing onto your side to pull you in closer to him. You roll your eyes at him and laugh at his usual overconfident remark. Smiling into a kiss he pulls his shirt off and while still connected to your lips he moves his body off the bed to hastily remove his pants, not wanting to let go of your face on his he clumsily stumbled whilst getting the last leg of his trousers off his ankle.

Grabbing your hips and pulling you to the edge of the bed he glances down at your perfect body, getting lost in the thought of how someone like him could ever end up with someone like you and how lucky he was. His thoughts were soon clouded by the image of your sloppy cunt, your soft, sweet face below him, ready for him to take you. 

Jean was taking in the sight of you beneath him, his thick, long member hard and leaking precum over the tip was almost painful. He lowered himself down onto your body and your legs naturally fell over his shoulders. Grabbing the tip of his cock you looked down and for the first time, you got nervous. You’d seen Jean’s cock before and knew exactly how big it was, but now you were nervous about it fitting inside you, you didn’t want to put him off by telling him just how scared you were so you flung your arms around him and landed your soft lips on his. Jean was rubbing the tip up and down your cunt, the sensation of your slick arousal was driving him insane, he wanted nothing more than to pin your legs back and have at you, but he was tensing hard enough to stop himself.

“You’re so wet for me baby, let’s just take it slow.”

You nod and slide your hands to cup his face. His tip finding its way to your entrance he slowly pushes himself inside and lets out a deep moan, clenching his eyes together.

Your walls instinctively tense up and you’re quick to grab Jean’s shoulders and use them for support. The stretching of your little cunt was getting slightly painful as your eyes started to water. From what feels like forever, his cock is still sliding inside, not even halfway yet, how fucking long was he?

“Fuck, Jean… fuck… just fuck me.”

You cry out as a desperate plea to get Jean to speed up. 

Opening his eyes he looks down to see your tensed face, he listens to your orders and picks up the speed. Jean felt bad for feeling so good, your tight pussy clamping down on his cock. His thrusts keeping an even pace, he comes down to suck and lick the groove of your neck, your voice cracks as you try and let out a “Yes, fuck, yes, yes…”

Seeing your face now turn from whimpering to bliss he smiles at his perfect little baby and straightens his back to put your legs on his chest. 

Thrusting in and out of your pussy, your cum coats jean’s thick and heavy cock, your moans sounding like sweet music to his ears. Holding your legs he passionately kisses the side of your calf. He pulls his hand down to your chin and holds it in place,

“Hey, look at me. I want you to look at me.”

Your head is foggy and vision slightly blurred but the sound of Jean’s loving voice brings you back to reality, you open your eyes and look directly at him, nothing but the sound of his skin on yours.

“Y/n, I love you.”

Your hand coming up to his on your chin, your eyes widen. You’d never heard him say that before and you just realised you’d never said it either. Which was crazy because without hesitation you knew how you felt when Jean said that,

“I love you too, Jean.”

Jean’s face softened, he looked down at you and smothered your face and neck with kisses that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. The sensation of Jean’s throbbing cock entering and exiting you as well as the attention he was now giving your upper half was driving you insane. The warm feeling returned to your stomach and a new sensation was flooding your insides, you felt like you were going to cum but you were sure you were going to piss yourself.

“Fuck, Jean, I think I’m gonna cum.”

Seeing how crazy his cock was driving you took him over the edge, seeing you all fucked out and in bliss over the fullness of him was just enough to bring him to climax.

“That’s it, fucking cum with me baby, cum on my cock.”

Getting faster you wrap your legs around his torso and let out a loud moan, your eyes wide and back arching you feel your wet cunt thump all over his cock, and just like that Jean wraps his arms around you and groans in your ear, breathy and low, his cock twitches inside of you. His cum empties in your tight hole as he catches his breath around you.

Now limp but still inside you, Jean places a small and delicate kiss on your forehead. Seeing your completely fucked out face he pulls you up and moves around the bed so your head is rested on his chest. 

You both breathe in the air around you and take in what had just happened. Jean pulls your chin up with his thumb so you’re looking up at him,

“I do love you y/n, you know?”

Your tired eyes beam up at him and your mouth grows into a smile.

“I love you too, Jean.”

You still had a few minutes left before you had to put your clothes back on and get back out to your friends. So with the little time you had you remained in each other’s arms, just happy to be close.

[lunaekalenda]

my bday is soon and I was wondering if u could probs write this for me🥺? a real cute fanfic of how levi would surprise his partner, like he pretends he forgets it and that makes y/n sad but he’s actually planning something big and bought lots of gifts, bringing thier close friends (Eren, Jean , mikasa etc) And in the evening he takes them to the cliff to see the view and he starts tellin y/n how much they love them (cuz they rlly wanna hear levi say that but he stutters and gets nervous while doin that) and just make them feel special 🥺 I’m all alone on my bday so writing this would absolutely make my day! (Plss add some fluff and cute scenes if u got any in mind!)

omg, first of all HAPPY BIRTHDAY! i hope this can be my present for you <3 ! i hope you have a good day! hope you like it!! <3

thanks to @breathes24 and @queko13 for the help ! (and the moral help)

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

❁ levi x reader

❁ modern au!

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

You feel Levi's body against you when you wake up. His hot skin close to yours. You turn around, facing him. He opens an eye and looks at you.

"Good morning." he says.

"Good morning" you say back. You look at the clock on his night table. It's your birthday. You smile at him and he closes his eye again, trying to sleep again.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" you ask. He thinks, his hand caressing your waist. He keeps his eyes closed. After a couple minutes, he opens them again. He looks at you.

"Nope. Today is your turn to make breakfast" He says, burying his head again on the pillow.

He always wakes you up with a lot of kisses on your birthday. But today, he just turned his head to the side and kept sleeping. You pout and take your phone. Nothing. Not even a simple message. You sigh and get up, leaving Levi on the bed and walking downstairs to the kitchen.

It’s not like you want everybody to focus on you and only you. But it’s late in the morning, almost noon, and you know half of your friends are awake. You start to prepare breakfast for the two of you.

At the same time, Levi takes his phone. The group chat named “Serious work stuff” is burning, full of messages. Obviously, that name is just a cover for the real issue of the chat: your surprise birthday party.

“Can we congratulate y/n now?” asked Connie an hour ago. Jean answered him with a huge “no”. Mikasa and Eren talked about the hour of the party and Sasha about the aperitifs. Levi sighs and answers when Connie asks where the party is and at what hour does it start. He is planning to make the party as early as he can, because he wants to take you to a night date, with a picnic. He invited all of them right after eating, when he plans to make you go to the store. Once you’re out and he knows that you’re far from home, he’ll let in all your friends, take out the balloons and all the gifts he bought for you and give you the best birthday ever.

But for now he'll just ignore the fact that is your birthday, even when he feels bad seeing your cute eyes getting sad. He's sure the surprise later will worth it.

You appear on the bedroom again with his tea and pancakes, also a juice for you. He sits on the bed after leaving the phone when he listened your steps. and you give him all the plates and glasses while you enter at bed once again. He kisses your cheek in signal of good morning when you sit next to him. Having breakfast in bed is a thing you two do on weekends since he moved with you. It all started because Levi has sleep issues, so he woke up really early and cooked for you, and now you do it in turns. He tries the pancake and hums.

"It's really good." he says, and keeps eating quietly. He looks at his phone again, the group chat making free talk on it. "Oh, look, we're in the middle of May already..." says, deleting the notifications and siping his tea. He looked the date and didn't remember your birthday?

The day passes by with normality: Levi makes some paperwork before helping you with the cooking and you two eat together. When you were about to move to the garage to take something, he went for you. You thanked him and he felt sweat pearls going down his neck, seeing how you were behind his back while he openened the door, the garage full of colorful balloons. You left to take your phone, that was ringing on the table of the living room. He used the time he was alone in the garage to tell everyone that he was about to send you to the store. All agreed in going to your house five minutes later.

"Baby." he calls you from the kitchen. "We haven't got peaches." he says. You raise an eyebrow. Since when is he so worried about peaches?

"And?"

"I know you like them, so could you go to the supermarket and buy a couple of them? I was thinking about having fruit salad for dinner." he says, his voice is a quiet as usual, but he's trembling inside.

"Just do it without peaches, Levi." you say, moving to the kitchen. He has his sleeves rolled up and is searching some fruits on the fridge, to know which of them he's going to use.

"It's not the same. Just go and take a couple, hm? You'll be back fast and I'll wait here for you."

You pout but he looks at you, closing the fridge and keeping the eye contact between you two. He knows he won when you sigh. "What type of peaches?"

Peaches. That's the fucking reason why you're walking towards the store in a day like this, and not spending your birthday with your boyfriend. You sigh.

"At least he knows I like fruit salad with peaches..." You enter the supermarket and search them, without knowing that now Connie's arms are full of beautiful balloons, Jean is helping Sasha to put the candles on the cake and Levi is putting all your gifts in the table near the sofa. Under Levi's commands, they are decorating every part of your living room to make it a beautiful place to celebrate your birthday. You entertain yourself on the candies and chocolates section and then buy a few of them to try. You're coming back home, sending a message to Levi.

He receives it and makes all your friends hide in the living room. "Jean, I can see your feet from here."

"That's because he's a fucking skyscraper." Connie says.

"At least I reach the higher shelfs on the supermarket, bald head." he answers, making sure his feet are now covered. Levi tells them all to shut up since he can hear your keys on the door. He leaves the living room to enter the kitchen.

"I'm home." you say. You can hear his voice from the kitchen.

"Welcome home." he answers quietly. You get closer to him, wanting his welcome kiss, and he presses his mouth against your forehead. You receive it happy, and you give him the supermarket bag with the things you bought. "I also took some tea mochis, wanna try them?" he nods.

"Cool. Wait for me in the living room." You nod. You make your way to the place, opening the pack and smelling them quietly. They smell delicious.

You almost drop all of them when you find all the balloons in your living. 

“Levi?” you ask, the emotion shining in your eyes. “What’s this?”

He appears smiling behind you. All your friends have the order to say happy birthday and come out of their hidden places when Levi congratulates you.

“Happy birthday, y/n”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!” a lot of voices yell after him. You jump, scared by the repenting yells, but once you turn around you see all your friends coming from under tables and behind sofas. They are all there, smiling and wishing you happy birthday. You’re about to cry.

“Guys, you’re incredible” Mikasa is now hugging you and Connie is pulling your ears softly. Eren smiles quietly when you look at him, and Jean points Levi.

“You know we love to be praised, but this time your boyfriend was who got this idea. Sorry for not congratulating you before, y/n” 

“But...” you were speechless. He invited your friends and also bought a lot of balloons and things. Some tears started to form in your eyes and you felt how a hand took yours, pulling you towards a body that you knew really well.

"Happy birthday, my love." He whispers, making you blush from head to toes.

The little party was all fun and laughs, Connie told a couple anecdotes of all of you and Mikasa played cool music. Also, Jean and Eren bought a enormous cake full of tiny candles that you blew, wisihing to never lose this people. Levi looked at you so purely, how you were having fun and how you dragged him to dance with you. His beautiful grey eyes looking at yours. Then, all of them gave you the huge mountain of gifts they all bought for you, but you could easily recognize the ones that Levi packed, with precious ribbons and elegant letter.

Even when all those gifts were really good ones -and they all knew you didn't want them to spend on a gift for you.- the one Levi left for the end surprised you. It was the littlest of all, packed in a cute ocean blue paper. You took it, smiling at him. He was nervous. Maybe it was too much. It had a little letter on the top of it. "Please open me after the dinner."

"Oi, Levi, don't be like that!" Connie said. "Now I'm curious!" Levi looks at him raising an eyebrow, but he's smiling.

Some minutes later, they helped you two to put everything back on place, cleaning and all, even when you begged to them to go home.

"And let the birthday one do all the work? Nope." Jean said. "Eh, eh, eh, Sasha! Sto-" he left, seeing Sasha eating a piece of cake that "fell" from the top of it. You laugh and keep washing plates, with Levi by your side, drying them.

"A surprise party, hm?" you ask, your shoulder hitting his softly. He laughs quietly.

"I wanted to make something special for you." he whispers. You now remember the little gift that you're supposed to open after the dinner. Will you go out for dinner? Definitely, if you were having dinner there, you should be cooking instead of doing all of this slowly.

"It was special. Thank you." he smiles soflty.

"It hasn't ended yet." he whispers.

❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁

Levi parks. You feel how the car stops. He insisted in covering your eyes, so you went all the way asking.

"Are we going to a restaurant?" he laughs and you hear the indicator sound.

"No."

"Are we... wait, where are we going?" It was late. All your friends left after helping. Jean had to drive Sasha and Connie home, so Connie sent a lot of pics in the car while he was copilot. Then, Levi appeared with that blindfold. You bited your lip.

"Put this on, please. We're leaving." Wait what? Leaving? For what?

"Leaving?" he nods. He takes a little bag near the entrance.

"Yep. Let's go." you followed him and he turned around, smiling. "Put it on, baby." you pout but let him put it on you.

And now he parked after a long way driving. He opens your door and helps you to get out. There's a wild wind and you can hear the ocean. You feel how the little pressure the blindfold was making dissapears on a moment. Levi has took it out. Since the sun is almost disappeared, you need a couple seconds to get your eyes used to the light. You're in the cliffs. Watching the sunset. Levi puts a blanket on the floor and tells you to sit. He takes out a couple plates and another one, that is covered, where he probably has the food.

"I thought maybe you would like to have dinner while the night starts to appear." he says, looking to the plates. Having dinner with such a pure human by your side while the starts start to appear above you feels like an absolute dream. You see how he eats a piece of watermelon. You smile at him, incapable of talking, and your eyes start to fill again with tears. "But don't cry" he says, pulling you towards him. Your face buried on his chest. "I love you." he says. Your eyes shot open and you try to part, but he presses your head quietly again to his chest. You can feel his heart beating fast. "I usually don't say this, you know. It's quite difficult for me to express myself, but you deserve it. You deserve to know how much you mean to me. I'll give my best to tell you every day how much I love you. Because I do. It's so deep, so deep..." He caresses your hair quietly. He takes the little gift from the bag. "You should open it now, don't wait to end the dinner." he whispers. You part a little and, before taking the gift, you take his face between your hands, caressing his cheeks quietly.

"Thank you." you were sincere. You were so grateful for having him. Not just today, that he prepared all those things, but everyday, having your back, giving you love and respect. He was near perfection, even reaching it. "Thank you, Levi. For being here with me and for making me feel so loved. I'll never end thanking you." You lean closer to him, pressing your mouth on his. The watermelon he tried before tastes sweet against your tongue. He buries his hand on your hair, pulling you closer to him. He parts for air.

"You should open the gift. And then have dinner. And we're not going to eat up each other, just in case you were going to make the joke."

You smile at him. He knows you too well. You open the gift softly, a necklace is shining inside the box. It has a little "L" on it.

"You know, that way you can always have a part of me."

"Are you Levi? Where's my grumpy and bossy boyfriend?" he laughs.

"I can switch to bossy whenever you want me to." he says. You give him the necklace and, tying your hair, you wait for him to put ii in your neck. You feel the cold L hanging on your clavicle. Levi presses his lips on your back, near the necklace. You show it to him and he smiles, caressing it.

You smile, the typical stupid and deep-in-love smile you've read on books. The sun keeps going down and the moon shines more intensely. The stars being witnesses of your smiles. The moon lighting the little L near your heart. You look at the sky, how beautiful it is full of stars.

He thinks the sky is beautiful, but you're the most beautiful thing for him. That's why he kisses your forehead, smiling at you. He put everything on the car right adter you two ended having dinner, just the blanket is left. You look at the stars, lying on the ground, and he does the same. You snuggle up towards him, his heat and arms receiving you. You kiss the point of his chest where you feel his heartbeat. He caresses your hair.

"Happy birthday." he says, once more. You smile against him and his hands wrap you.

You could stay like that forever.

[dracosaurusrex]

i love ur writing!!! can u maybe do a hc where its post war! draco x reader where they get married right, then reader gets pregnant with scorpius!! and its like them taking care of him, seeing him growing up and sending him off to hogwarts etc etc yk? also u dont have to do this ofc 🤍!!

Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) 🌱 - Headcanon

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Hi nonnie!! I’m sorry it took me a while to get to this. Besides being occupied with schoolwork, I thoroughly had to think about how Draco would be as a father. I hope you enjoy!! It’s a lil long too aha.

PS. Kudos to you if you know where the title comes from aha

When Draco found out you were pregnant, there was no containment to the pure joy he had felt in the moment

Tears of joy brimmed his eyes

Crushing embraces

Playful kisses transitioned to more passionate ones as he poured out his love for you

Despite the years following the end of the war, he still didn’t feel deserving of you

Furthermore, he didn’t feel deserving of parenting a child with you

But one thing he was certain of was that he didn’t want to be anything like his father.

The very thought chilled him and struck fear to his bones

“Draco, you’ll make a great father” you say constantly. Each time you do so wrapping him in a warm embrace

It surprised you seeing him cry for the first time as he cradled your growing bump

“Do you think he can hear me?” He’d ask

You nodding as you wiped the tears rolling down his face

“I don’t want him to grow up like I did.”

“Love, we wouldn’t be here if you didn’t go through any of it.”

More silent tears and kisses to your bump

“I’ll do my best for you and your mother, I promise.”

Him kissing your bump one last time

“We’ll do our best for each other” you reassure

-🌱- 

There’s no end to him showing you how much he loves you.

The morning sickness, weird cravings, the aches and pains—this man spoiled you and made sure you were comfortable as much as possible

Happy wife = happy life

You both taking turns to tell the baby in your womb stories

Draco playing the piano with you and the baby by his side

You’d be cuddling as you both thought of names

Him opting to follow Black tradition and use names from constellations

“If it’s a girl, it should be Maia Altair. Both are the brightest stars within their respective constellations.” He said.

“How about Lyra Celeste?”

“That’s pretty too. Goodness, I hope it’s not a girl. We’d have a hard time choosing.” He says jokingly, making you chuckle.

“How about for a boy?” You ask

“I was thinking along the lines of Scorpius... I can’t seem to think up of a middle name”

“How about Hyperion?”

“Scorpius Hyperion?” His eyes widened for a moment, “That’s perfect.”

He didn’t mind whether you’d give birth to a boy or a girl—he wanted to give his children the best whether that’d be values, or material possessions

-🌱-

Being a private family meant a gender reveal and baby shower with just the two of you.

You hand the photo of the ultrasound to him faced down

“We’re having a boy, Draco.”

Hearts pounding.

Smiles wide

Draco’s sight was transfixed on the small formation printed on the page for a bit before looking at you again

The moment reminded you of the first time you said “I love you” to one another

He presses a tender loving kiss to your lips as you wrap your arms around his torso.

The next couple of months pass quickly

Life is still happy coz wife is still happy

There’s look comprising fear and awe when Draco laid his eyes on the newborn baby boy in your arms

“May I hold him?”

You hand Scorpius to him with tears in your eyes

Scorpius being so small that he doesn’t even occupy half of Draco’s forearm

“Welcome Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, my son” He says softly, tears following soon after yours did

-🌱-

Raising Scorpius was similar to walking on a tightrope, but even if you both fell at times, it was never hard enough to keep you down

He was a sweet boy, an obedient son

He took after Draco’s appearance: platinum hair, pointed face, and he sported a warm pair of grey eyes

But he bore your kind and compassionate personality, which Draco adored

Regardless of how much of your personality he inherited, Scorpius still had his father’s attitude sometimes, much to your amusement and shock

Draco spoiling him throughout his youth

You dressing Scorpius up

Both of you teaching the boy human decency towards witches, wizards, and muggles alike

One thing Draco made certain as a father was to make sure that Scorpius knew he was welcome to talk to his parents about anything

While you’d speak of matters of the heart, Draco would do his best to speak on matters of logic and reasoning

No matter what, you did your very best to make known to the young Malfoy that he was loved.

-🌱-

Time spent together as a family occupied the best memories of your lives

While Scorpius was growing and learning new things, you and Draco were learning (and growing) alongside him

When he was five years old, having finished his daily lessons, he walked  amongst the vast halls of the mansion, knowing exactly where his parents would be

First checks the library to find Draco focused in his study

“Papa?” He calls out with a small voice

“Yes Scorp? Have you finished your studies for today?”

“Yes, father. May I sit with you?”

That was the day that Draco introduced his own passions to his son.

The little boy on his lap looks at the book in front of him with awe as Draco tells him stories of constellations and alchemy

“That’s how we named you.”

“My name is Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!” The sound of pride ringing from his little voice strikes a chord in Draco’s heart

He kisses the top of his head

“Yes, we’re are Malfoy’s”

“And mama?”

“Mama, is Y/N Y/M/N Malfoy.” He says with his heart fluttering.

The sound of your name never fails to reduce his insides to mush.

He then removes himself to find you painting the white peacocks that scattered the lawn

“Mama, what are you doing?”

“I’m painting love. Do you want to see?” You kiss his cheek as you gather him into your arms to give him a view of your work

“I want to learn how to do that!” 

“And what is it would you like to paint first?”

“The skies in papa’s books!”

-🌱-

As much as possible, you hid small arguments and issues from Scorpius

You and Draco had established three rules when confronting road bumps in your marriage:

Communicate needs and feelings

Give one another space when needed

Never go to bed with issues unresolved

The openness you taught your son, would be put into practice between you both

Fortunately, you being with Draco for more than ten years meant that you’ve practically seen him at his lowest points

He learned how to be vulnerable to you, and was your shoulder to cry on when needed

Nevertheless, each issue was resolved with a kiss, and something a little more *wink wink* (Scorpius would already be in bed dw)

Draco would catch himself staring at you in the kitchen one day, feeling the same way he would when he’d stare at you in your potions class

The smile you give when you notice him never changed

Scorpius taking note of this calls his dad out

“Papa, why do you love mama?” 

“She’s my best friend, Scorpius.” 

“I love mama too!”

You were the rock to your little family of three, and the older man would wonder how he became so lucky every time he thought about it.

-🌱-

Time flew by real fast in the manor. Before you know it, Scorpius turned eleven, and received his letter to Hogwarts

Robes? Check

Books? Check

Quills? Parchment? Check

Cauldron and other items? Check

Excited and nervous Scorpius Malfoy? Check.

“Papa, mama, what if no one likes me?”

Draco takes the first and last say before you can even open your mouth

“Just be yourself Scorp, and you’ll be fine.”

The platform bustling with sounds of old and new students alike

You see the Potter’s and the Weasley’s from afar and give a small wave

Draco, acting like a git, only gives a nod when you nudge his side with your elbow

Scorpius is the first to move away from his father’s side to introduce himself 

“Hi! I’m Scorpius Malfoy!” He says with a toothy grin

Albus’s eyes sparkle at a new friend, “I’m Albus Potter! This is Rose Weasley! We’re both first years!”

“Me too! Can I sit with you on the train?”

The exchange throws both Harry and Draco into a spiral, leaving you, Ginny, and Hermione thoroughly amused for the day.

“Albus- he”, 

“S-Scor-”

Both fathers are ignored.

But the happy grins they see on their sons faces calms them down slightly

The time comes for the train to take off

Draco wraps his arms around you as you wipe the tears forming 

It was a miracle that the little boy grew up to be a kind, intelligent, and talented young man. 

In that moment, Draco has never felt so grateful for his family

I apologize for the length. It’s kinda chaotic, but I hope you enjoyed reading it hehe. Thank you so much for all your support!

Tagging:

@amithatemo @littlethie @drxcomvlfx @svturtles @stretchyice @xoxohollands @dracosathenaeum @hahee154hq @mushi98 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @beiahadid @Saby06143 @rottenhexrt

[cloveroctobers]

PLASTIC HEARTS — ALL

Synopsis: what the characters are like in the mornings since I’m currently writing this at midnight lol + I feel like ask memes are really underrated and they’re quick to write so I’m open to those too amongst the 100 of other things I have on my list/have yet to write (typical writing probs lol)

Jordan: I feel like with Jordan is either 50/50 with him. If he has to be up pertaining to football then he’s up and determined! it might take him like 2-5 mins more extra in bed to fully get up if his parents (more so billy) don’t drag him out of bed but he still manages to get up and function somehow. If he’s partying the night before then that’s a different story, he’s always hungover and feeling that shit the next morning so he’ll move super slow and will be late to class/grumpy as hell. He’s either happy and functioning well making sure he’s getting a meal regardless if he’s in a good mood in the morning or not cause the boy likes to EAT (just like Michael’s ass) + if there’s no food at the house best believe he’s cruising to a cafe to get him a meal before heading to boredom high—I mean Beverly

If he’s in a crap mood then he’s mean to everyone in his path. It’s best to leave him alone and let him sulk in his corner until he’s out of his grumpy mood which he does get out of...eventually after arguing with someone or snapping on them, taking a nap in the back of class, or after football practice.

Olivia: I’m squinting as I’m thinking this over. I don’t really think she’s a morning person? but she sets her alarm for herself and can get up in the morning without the help of her parents unlike Jordan lol. She is the type to set her alarm ten minutes before she actually has to get up so she can get extra time in the comfort of her bed. It takes the girl some time to get ready in the morning okay? Have you seen her hair? It takes time to get it right for how she wants it and she always says she should pick her outfits the night before but she always seems to get side tracked so that never happens which also takes up more of her time. Eventually she almost always makes it downstairs before Jordan does. They DON’T ride to school together, hardly, unless one of them has a issue with their car or something but they’re usually doing their own thing but have some sort of conversation in the morning over breakfast—trying to build the closeness of their relationship back

Liv likes to be on time if she can or just right on time, either or. And if things come up, then she’s a little anxious which she normally is until she’s meeting up with someone she can hold a conversation with. Half of the time there’s no need to be anxious? It’s just there and she hates it despite the lonerism she found herself in

Spencer: I think Spencer can be a light sleeper since he’s used to some sort of noise going on in his house. Plus his room is in the center of where the noise will take place. If it’s too quiet, like it usual was at the baker’s he finds it a little hard to sleep all the way? There has to be something going on for him to fully sleep like the light noise of tv? Or a sound machine. James said he was the same way as a baby, always alert. So when he wakes up in the morning, he always lets out a soft sigh closing his eyes letting the alarm go off for a few more seconds before he smacking it off. He has to get in the shower to fully wake him up tho. If he doesn’t take a shower in the morning then he’s not fully up and if he doesn’t take a shower at night, he knows he’s not going to sleep well either.

If he has to walk Dillon to school, then he doesn’t mind being late. Now that Dillon is getting older he doesn’t mind walking on his own or with a friend or two but being the protector that Spencer is, he’s going to try his best to make time for Dillon no matter what and the boy secretly appreciates it but understands now if it can’t be all the time. Spencer doesn’t have his license so he’s either catching the bus (if he was still going to Beverly, Jordan or Liv would scoop him up ofc) or speed walking to school which he seems to make just in time?? Always.

Layla: I always view her as someone so chipper. She IS a morning person (unless the depression is hitting her hard, some of us have those days) and usually has it together. She’s a big planner and if she doesn’t continue with being a producer like her dad in the future, I can see her being a event planner big time. Anyways she’s usually very organized, outfits steamed and hung up for the week, weekly calendars and reminders in her phone. Alarm’s set since she’s the only one in the house and only has herself to depend on. I feel she does take a lot on her plate for a teenager so she tries her best to follow a routine/schedule most of the time. Wake up. Stretch. Slippers. Robe. She does not check her phone until after she is done taking care of herself! Brush teeth. Shower. Skincare. Get dressed. Does hair. Checks phone on her way downstairs to breakfast. Layla is a açaí bowl or oatmeal kinda girl, fight amongst yourselves. I see it. I manifest it. She always has to have her hands in something and when it comes to breakfast and baking, you can count on her to always make something. It became something she loved since her mom and her always did that together. And she often likes taking the long way to school and the long way back home.

Asher: not a morning person. Never on time unless it’s for football on Saturday mornings. he’s a cereal kinda guy since his dad can’t afford a professional chef anymore. His favorite cereal is probably Rice Krispies with strawberries and wh*le milk or cashew milk if he remembers to buy it from the grocery app. I feel like he would eventually have to get a job his senior year since it’s kind of a struggle with his dad settling into his new job. It’s a big adjustment with his parents divorced and although his mom still slips him money when he see’s her every other weekend, he’s more tired than he ever was before. He’s used to sleeping in cars if he’s not in a king sized bed but can pretty much sleep everywhere. He can sleep through anything and always has multiple loud ass alarms to wake him up since his dad is either gone before he wakes up like before or just about to leave for his new job. He never bothers to wake him anyways. Asher is a grumpy grouch in the mornings and is addicted to ice coffees and loves a good pastry if he can’t have himself some cereal in the morning.

He’s also annoyed if he doesn’t get his cartoon’s in too before school. Don’t bother him until mid-morning, early afternoon if you know what’s good for you.

Coop: if she’s something else when she’s angry what do you think she’s like in the mornings? Annoying either way? Probably lmao. She’s probably a talker in the morning expressing some wild ass dream she had or either how she had a sucky night and couldn’t sleep properly so she was up writing a new song or something. Since she’s dropping out of school, her mornings could probably start later around 11am? Unless her mother is still home and making her get out of bed to run errands with her or clean the house while she’s gone for the day? Either way she’s probably dancing, talking your head off, blasting music as she gets ready, or browsing Twitter as her form of “morning news”

Chris: I get night owl vibes from Chris. Which is more difficult to do in high school, whew! He has to use melatonin spray or cream to help him knock out and if it fully doesn’t help, he’s dragging the next morning once he fully crashes. Sometimes it can be a good morning or it can be a sucky one. Due to his injury, he gets occasional pain in his joints which he keeps a secret from mostly everyone from his team since they were only described as spasms from his doctor. He deals with it even if it freaks him out from time to time. If it’s a sucky morning, he has to wake himself up with a splash of water to the face and then tending to the pain in his joints before carrying on about his day.

I do think he’s on his phone a lot. Before bed, actually watching soothing videos to help him knock out—don’t tell anybody that and then checking his phone again when he wakes up. Which is apparently unhealthy for the mind but hey with technology continuing to take over, what can you do?

Patience: the girl doesn’t care if she’s late or early. All that matters is trying to get through the day. She’s not crazy about getting up early to sit in 7-8 classes a day but if she’s got to do it, then she’s going to take her time. She wasn’t named “Patience” for no reason okay? When it comes to her appearance, she’s going to make sure she puts in the effort because if she looks good then she feels good and can go about her day. Most of the time she takes a quick breakfast with her on her bus ride to school (thanks to her hair not doing what she wanted it to) and then if there’s time heads to the cafeteria to get whatever they’re serving for breakfast there. At least that’s better than the lunch they serve there.

JJ: total morning person! Or if he’s not? You can never tell. The guys always in the best mood. Even if he was out partying and doing too much the night before, the dude is never hungover. Everyone wants to know his secret. And when he tells them, they don’t believe it. He’s usually a slob of a eater but he also knows how to take care of his body and all about his protein shakes and juicing. He definitely has a meal plan that he takes the time to post on his Instagram stories. The guy loves Instagram and is always posting there. If you need positive words of affirmations, JJ is your guy. Check his stories or if you run into him in person he’s all hugs and uplifting you to get through the day. He’s the guy you need around if you need it. If you don’t want to be bothered? Make sure he doesn’t see you and keep your distance because he will tackle you down and turn into DJ Khaled on your ass.

Simone: she hates mornings and thinks it’s cruel to be up five days of the week for. If she physically feels like she can’t get up due to intense studying or up binge watching real housewives or whatever, she knows it the night before and puts her plan into motion the next morning. Her parents are usually always on her ass, especially her mom so it takes a lot of persuading to let her stay home. And it still doesn’t feel like a free day because her mom is checking up on her every hour on the dot from work. She makes it feel like Simone should have just went to school. If the answer is, “there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re going.” Then Simone is definitely in a sour mood. Her dad almost always drives her to school and she checks up on her son every day through socials if she doesn’t message his second mother. Simone’s also not much of a breakfast person but if her dad is making her eat they’re stopping somewhere before he drops her off or encouraging her to take some of whatever dish he made before they leave.

Now? If there’s something on her mind? Then she’s active and stressing over it before she’s talking to someone about it. She’s out getting a light jog on around her gated neighborhood (she’s getting her fitness game back up after deciding to take tennis seriously again) before showering and getting back into bed for at least thirty minutes to forty five before she has to be up for school. Worries erased for now.

Darnell: is a morning person even if he grumbles that he doesn’t care for it. He’s a sunset kinda guy not a sunrise. It’s not much of a issue for him to get up and start the day with a long exaggerated sigh. He’s not as talkative but get something in his belly and he’s bringing up some interesting facts or news about what’s going on with certain celebrities he keeps up with. I also feel like he knows how to cook and breakfast isn’t his speciality but lunch foods are? Grits, eggs, bacon, and jam on toast is his fav thing to eat for breakfast with apple juice. That’s right, apple juice over orange juice no matter what Spence and dil have to say.

His version of appetizers (which are too big of portions but to each their own) are his go to make for lunch. For breakfast if he can’t have his fav meal in the late morning, he always eats light since he says his stomach is too sensitive in the mornings which has been proven to be true...The James’ can vouch for that

Kia: again 50/50. Depends on her night. She’s also someone who is very active in clubs so it all depends when she gets home and how fast she can get things done at home before she can crash. Sometimes she takes a lot on as well but she thrives off it? It makes her feel productive but she also knows how to balance and have free time when she wants to. Her breakfast always consists of fruit, she loves her fruit. And even if she finds herself running late then she quickly adjusts and cuts out what needs to be cut out of her morning routine and get where she needs to be making herself have the time. Which can be good or bad, depends on how you look at it. Kia is great at handling whatever is thrown at her it seems!

Vanessa: Morning person after she’s fully awake lol. Hates how she looks in the morning, thinks her face is too puffy and definitely uses a jade roller no matter what to help. Her mom is always on her ass + she’s a coach so just imagine that on top while struggling to get up. However once she’s settled, she gets this burst of energy—coach montes believes it’s “the vitamins” and “always eating properly” but the small girl always seemed to get random bursts of energy throughout the day no matter the circumstance. loves a food bagel or pastry for breakfast with orange juice or water, either is fine. She especially loves sunny mornings in California, it just makes her feel better—as it should. She even thanks the sun when it greets her face. Which is something she used to do as a kid too.

Fin.

A/N: I apologize for any typos in advance. It’s now 2am, phones about to die and it’s surely time to crash. Goodnight/morning wherever you are in the world and I’ll fix what needs to be fixed later lol. Feel free to send me ask memes for this week if you want when I do have the energy to write. Toodles!

[moonbeambucky]

Friday Night Fights

Pairing: Wrestler!Bucky Barnes x Reader [AU] Word Count: 5948 Warnings: action, fluff

Summary: A night at a wrestling show proves more than you may be able to handle.

A/N: I’m so excited because I haven’t seen this before and I’m really, really happy with how it turned out! Thank you to my pizza love @all1e23​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️ Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated! gif source (x)

It was early in the evening but the sky showed otherwise. Its pitch black blanket draped the world in darkness; a consequence of winter where night rolls over earlier as the days go on. Y/N is huddled together with her friend Wanda, teeth chattering as they brace for a gust of wind, the kind that’s so cold the icy breeze burns your face. They’re standing in a line that wraps around the block, hearing the excited chants from people all around them. Some are a little louder than others and Y/N suspects a few have been keeping warm thanks to those beers wrapped in paper bags. While she was too cold to physically show how excited she was, inside she was thrilled. It was the first Friday of the month and Y/N was spending it the way she’s spent all of them over the past year, front row at a local wrestling show.

MWF had been running monthly shows for a few years now but it wasn’t until Wanda’s brother Pietro begged them to come with him that she was hooked. It was so much fun to watch the athletic matches and even though there were some storylines that bordered on ridiculous they were a lot of fun. Y/N can honestly say she’s never laughed harder than watching a man named Doctor Doom wrestle The Invisible Woman. He was so convincing in kicking his own ass she was almost positive he really was in a match against a woman that no one could see.

Tonight was different though; Y/N and Wanda were alone, waiting to get inside the venue without Pietro because he was making his debut! He caught the wrestling bug from the moment they all went to a show and after speaking with some of the wrestlers he found a local school and started training. Things were rough, as Y/N remembered the day after his first lesson, Pietro was so sore he couldn’t even get off the couch of the apartment they all shared. As his training continued so did his injuries; his body was covered in bruises from all moves he was learning but he didn’t care. Pietro loved it so much and eventually his body got used to the new brand of workouts he was putting it through.

While he was training Pietro still went to shows with Y/N and Wanda but now things were different. He was on hand to help set up the ring during the day, staying after the show to help break it down and pack it in the truck. He no longer viewed each match through the eyes of a fan but as a student, carefully studying each move and the story the wrestlers were telling. Watching them interact with the crowd made him hopeful, imagining himself in that ring one day with a crowd of people cheering for him. That day had finally come.

The show wouldn’t start for another half hour at least so Y/N and Wanda went to the line for refreshments, saying hello to a few people along the way. They had grown familiar with some of the crowd, seeing familiar faces that were also dedicated fans. Besides the regulars there were always new people, fathers with their young children either using this as a replacement for expensive WWE shows or just bonding over more wrestling in their lives. It was always a treat to watch the kids yell at the bad guys as they walked around the ring, pointing fingers in their face before recoiling back with fear if they were snarled at.

There were a lot of women there too, some older ones where it was clear they had grown up watching classic wrestling. Sometimes it was obvious that they were there to meet their favorite stars from the past. Usually the shows had one match that featured someone that used to be really popular. They were older now, a little slower but still put on an entertaining match. During intermission they would sell signed 8x10 pictures from a table off to the side. It isn’t anything compared to the money they used to make but it’s something of a living, and taking a selfie with their fans makes everyone happy.

Other women filled the crowds, young ones that hoped to get in the ring themselves one day or those who were only there to support their boyfriends or other friends who were in the show. You could always tell who was there to support who, watching their disinterested face lift up from the phone it’s been glued to all night to cheer for someone, and once the match was over you could see how quickly they got back to their phone, furiously texting away probably asking when they could finally leave.

After the shows some kids would wait around hoping to meet their favorite wrestler, full of nervous joy as they took a picture with them. It wasn’t always the kids who were anxious to meet someone, a lot of times there would be some women blatantly flirting with some of them. Y/N’s seen a few wrestlers take someone by the hand, pulling them behind the curtain to get lost for a few minutes. As long as everything was consensual there was no issue with it though she couldn’t help but grimace as she watched it happen unbeknownst to that wrestler's girlfriend hanging around and waiting for him to leave the locker room.

Pietro always told her not to say anything. “Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.” It’s a lesson he learned the hard way after confronting someone about cheating on their girlfriend. They took it out on him during training, leaving a red handprint shaped welt on his chest for days for not minding his business. This was not a side of wrestling that any of them liked.

Making their way to their seats they were taken aback by the presence of the large ring assembled in the center of the room. It was always a beautiful sight and being there felt like home. The cold metal chairs brought comfort, the bright fluorescents that shined down on them from the vaulted ceiling brought warmth like a cozy fireplace. This was more than something to do on a Friday night; it was tradition, creating new memories with every show.

Y/N took off her jacket, draping it over the back of the chair. “Do you like it?” she said, turning to Wanda, proudly showing off her sweatshirt.

The bright blue fabric was eye catching but the design on the front really stood out. It was the symbol for a wrestler that everyone knew was her favorite; red and white circles surrounding a bright white star in the center meant for “Captain America” Steve Rogers, the current MWF heavyweight champion. He was a blue eyed, blond haired, six foot wall of pure muscle with the sweetest baby face she’d ever seen.

Steve was enthralling. Women would scream extra loud as they ogled him (those tights don’t leave much to the imagination) and kids would jump up and down cheering as he gave each and every one a high five. Steve was an all American wrestler, a good-hearted person who believed in clean matches and rushed out from the back to help others if their own opponents were cheating to win. And lately he’s been coming out a lot.

There was a faction known as Hydra that Steve has been feuding with for some time now. A man named Red Skull, whose face was painted to look like one, served as their leader, standing ringside as his assets would fight their way to the top for a shot at the championship. For a while he pushed Crossbones, a real sleazy villain that took cheap shots at the audience, sneering at them as he told them how lucky they were to be in the presence of his greatness. Steve had many fights against Crossbones but he wasn’t alone.

Steve used to be a tag team, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, the Howling Commandos, brothers in arms that were the reigning tag team champions. Fans adored them, cheering as they took on Crossbones and his partner Baron Zemo. One night Steve held up his belt over his head, rejoicing in another win for himself and Bucky, proudly showing it off to the crowd and never expecting what happened next.

A vicious blow knocked him to the mat, the belt dropped from his hands. Confused, Steve tried to get up but a heavy boot kicked him back down. He wondered who was attacking him and if Bucky was faring better than he was, that is until he was able to turn around. Bucky was standing over him, his foot kicking Steve in the ribs. He groaned in pain, his body feeling the agony of the attack but his mind suffered more. “Buck, why?” But Steve never got an answer.

Bucky grabbed his head, forcing him to his feet but Steve fought back to defend himself. He blocked one punch but not the next two blows that came out of nowhere; a swift kick to the stomach from Zemo that sent him right into another strike from Crossbones across his back.

Steve wobbled to his knees disoriented and Bucky took advantage of his former friend’s weakened state. Bucky pulled Steve by the top of his tights setting him bent over between his legs. He smirked feeling his attempt to find the strength to fight back, clawing at Bucky’s thighs to break free. Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist and with all his might he hoisted him up, flipping Steve’s body up quickly so his legs were straddling Bucky’s head and just as fast he used all his force to slam Steve’s back down onto the mat.

Bucky got up, laughing as he stared at Steve laid out in the ring, joining Crossbones and Baron Zemo as the newest member of Hydra as the crowd roared with anger. Ever since that day Steve has been facing Bucky Barnes now known as The Winter Soldier– an enemy with the face of a friend.

The main event tonight was Steve against the Winter Soldier who was fighting for a shot at the title. Everyone was excited. Y/N wasn’t the only one in a Captain America shirt although some people in the audience smudged black paint around their eyes, emulating their new favorite villain to show their support.

The Winter Soldier had become an intimidating figure, wearing a black mask that covered the bottom half of his face, piercing blue eyes stood out against the smear of black war paint. His left arm was wrapped in silver electrical tape from his wrist and up his forearm, the sections making it look like his arm was replaced by metal plates. A final piece was taped just above his bicep as if to show off the prominent muscle.

He traded bright blue tights for a dark black fabric with a jarring red star on his thigh. It was like he had it just to taunt Steve, showing him he remembered his roots and all the years they spent together as a team but now he no longer cared, twisting the image of a patriotic star for one that was blood red, dripping with the hate that fueled him.

Like everyone else, Y/N couldn’t wait for that match but first the show had to begin. A man walked out from the curtain to a roar of cheers. He was an older man with grey hair that bordered on silver and bright teeth that flashed against tanned skin. He entered the ring with all eyes on him, partially because of his striking gold jacket, beneath it an even bolder red tie that stood out against a bright cobalt blue shirt.

Bringing a microphone to his mouth he spoke, “Welcome to the Marvel Wrestling Federation. I am your host, the Grandmaster!” The Grandmaster smirked, taking in their enthusiasm. The crowd was pumped and he knew it was going to be a great night. “Please welcome your referee for the night Phillip Coulson!”

“COUL-SON! COUL-SON! COUL-SON!” The crowd cheered as a man in a striped shirt entered the ring, a modest smile spreading across his thin lips.

With that the first match of the night began but Wanda could hardly pay attention. Pietro had texted her saying he was going to be in the second match and her leg bounced nervously. She vacillated between feeling excited and nervous, wanting to cheer on her brother for his debut but in the back of her mind she couldn’t help but fear for his safety.

Sure, Pietro had been training for a while but that didn’t mean that things couldn’t go wrong. Y/N looked over at Wanda, taking her hand and squeezing it, hoping to provide some comfort to her, realizing how hard Wanda was squeezing her own hand back as the first match ended.

“Making his debut, all the way from Sokovia, here is Quicksilver!” the Grandmaster’s voice boomed as music hit, and suddenly a figure raced out from the curtains to the sound of fast paced music.

Y/N and Wanda shot up to cheer for him, proudly screaming as he ran around the outside of the ring, slapping hands with everyone before he jumped up on the apron. Stepping inside the ring he went to the corner, standing on the middle ropes as he raised his arms up, smiling at the crowd.

He looked incredible. Neither of them had seen his outfit, ombre blue pants with a white lightning bolt going down the side of his leg. His white boots shined brightly, their luster not yet marred by the history of a long career. His chest was bare and though he was not as tanned as some other wrestlers he still very much looked the part with bright blue elbow pads on his arms. He winked towards Y/N and Wanda, who was filled with nervous energy she could barely hold her phone steady to record his match.

“And his opponent, from Queens, New York he is the amazing Spider-Man!”

Everyone jumped up from their seats to cheer for a masked wrestler who was always a crowd favorite. He was a few inches shorter than Pietro but much slimmer, wearing a full body spandex suit in red and blue with a webbed designed all over it and a small black spider in the center of his chest. His eyes were blocked by a white mesh surrounded by black trim but somehow you could see the expression in them.

Pietro began clapping his hands, a rhythmic beat for the crowd to join in as he and Spider-Man circled each other in the ring. Once they began both men showed off their skill of high flying moves and near pinfalls for each of them with nonstop action throughout and the crowd loved it. Wanda’s smile was stretched proudly across her face as she watched her brother. The match was over before anyone wanted it to be, with Spider-Man climbing to the top turnbuckle and doing a backflip splash onto Pietro for the three count.

Ref Coulson raised Spider-Man’s hand in victory but he quickly went to his opponent and helped him to his feet. Pietro was half-keeled over with one arm across his stomach, feeling the pain from where all of Spider-Man’s weight had landed. Spider-Man took Pietro’s hand, celebrating Quicksilver as a mutually respected opponent.

Wanda and Y/N stood up and cheered loudly, sitting down again once Pietro had gone back through the curtain.

“He was incredible! Did you see that? My. Brother. Did. That!” Wanda exclaimed.

Y/N was just as proud of him, knowing how hard Pietro trained. His first match was a great success and she hoped it would be the start to an incredible career.

The next match saw Quake take on Black Widow, another member of Hydra. She was a short redhead but her opponents should know not to be intimidated by her size. Though she was a strong fighter Black Widow was also conniving, cheating to win whenever it seemed victory was just out of reach.

She walked around the ring with a slow stride, ignoring the boos and comments from the crowd. As she was approaching Y/N she noticed the Captain America shirt she was wearing and her red lips pulled into a disgusted scoff. Black Widow snarled at Y/N, unable to bear the mere sight of her enemy’s symbol.

As soon as the match began the crowd was behind Quake all the way which only seemed to upset Black Widow more, anger that she held firmly inside. She launched a vicious attack, raking Quake in the eyes to impair her vision as she tried to pin her right away. Quake kicked out, and after a lot of back and forth it seemed like Quake was finally getting the upper hand.

Not wanting to lose Black Widow found the strength to stop herself from being thrown into the corner, reversing the move and whipping Quake right into Ref Coulson who dropped to the mat in pain. With Quake and the referee both down Black Widow smirked, using this opportunity to slip out of the ring and grab a metal chair.

Black Widow raised the chair above her hands, about to slam it down onto Quake before she noticed from the corner of her eye that Ref Coulson was using the ropes to ease himself up. Not wanting to be caught, she slammed the chair down onto the mat. The sound alerted Quake who turned around and just as quickly Black Widow threw the chair to Quake and fell down onto the mat. Ref Coulson turned around and was stunned to see Quake holding the chair above her opponent. He refused to listen to her protests as she was caught red handed, signaling to the announcers to end the match and the bell rang.

The Grandmaster’s voice echoed through the room, “The winner of this match as a result of a disqualification, Black Widow!”

The crowd booed as Quake continued to argue with the referee. He helped Black Widow up from the mat, unable to see the wicked grin that spread across her face. Her expression was one Y/N saw again that night as Crossbones and Zemo fought against Falcon and Hawkeye but unlike Black Widow, their opponents would not fall for Hydra’s tricks.

Hawkeye spotted Zemo hiding by the apron of the ring, trying to hold Falcon’s foot down so he couldn’t kick out as Crossbones attempted to pin him. Racing towards him, Hawkeye speared Zemo into the guardrails, knocking him out. Crossbones and Falcon were trading punches and Falcon was stumbling in the center of the ring. Crossbones began to climb to the top rope, setting himself up to jump off and hit his signature move, the Strike Force.

Seeing this Hawkeye jumped to the apron, knocking into Crossbones who landed crotch first into the turnbuckle, letting out a painful groan. Hawkeye called out for Falcon who turned around, and both men climbed to the top rope, lifting Crossbones to a standing position as they threw his arms over theirs.

This was their finishing move, the Birds of a Feather, as Falcon and Hawkeye did a simultaneous backflip off the top rope, while holding Crossbones who flipped along with them, slamming furiously onto the mat. Thunderous applause carried through the room as the referee counted to three and Falcon and Hawkeye remained the MWF tag team champions.

There were so many other matches that kept Y/N and Wanda entertained, like Thor against his brother Loki, the two having their own long standing feud but now it was time for the final match and Y/N was full of anticipation.

The Grandmaster stood in the center of the ring again, commanding the microphone as he spoke to the crowd. “Wow, what a show, what a night! And now, without further ado… it’s main event time! Making his way to the ring at 240 pounds he is the fist of Hydra, The Winter Soldier!”

The faint sound of music is heard over the crowd, like a scream heard underwater. The tension builds with a growing hum, the cry is louder yet different, mechanized, like someone is trapped inside a machine. A motorcycle hums, revving its engine, racing louder and louder until a crash of metal clangs.

At the height of tension the Winter Soldier takes a solid step through the curtain as the haunting scream blares out. It’s as if the person he used to be was still inside, Bucky Barnes, Howling Commando, friend to Steve Rogers, trapped inside the shell of a brainwashed assassin, scratching at the walls and screaming to free himself. But the Winter Soldier is nothing like Bucky Barnes.

His movements are deliberate and slow as he stalks the ring. Blue eyes visible through the darkness of black around them. They speak volumes with every glare as he makes his way around the ring. Kids who are brave enough scream at him but the Winter Soldier doesn’t react. He’s cold, devoid of emotion, as mechanic as the sounds of his entrance music. Y/N does see something in his eyes, the subtle squint as he sees her Captain America shirt. She, like many others, boo him as he passes by.

Not everyone hates the Winter Soldier though; he has his own fan base that doesn’t care about what side of good he’s on. Y/N can hear the difference in the tone of their screams, lascivious howls as he steps in the ring. They cry out as he undoes the buckles of his leather jacket to reveal a broad chest and she wouldn’t be surprised if they had dollars ready in between their fingers to stuff down his pants. His hair is dark and stringy, falling just on top of his muscular shoulders. He removes his muzzle, rolling his neck from side to side as he awaits his foe.

“From Brooklyn, New York, weighing in at 225 pounds, he is your Heavyweight Champion, Captain America, Steve Rogers!”

Patriotic horns blare along with rhythmic percussion, building triumphantly until Captain America pops through the curtain to a clamor of cheers. The belt shines brightly around his waist as he takes a second to pose, hooking his thumbs into the top, proud to be the champion.

Y/N stands up, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify the sound of her cheers making them rise above the rest. Steve was slapping hands with a group of children but he heard her, his boyish smile growing as he turned to see her in the front row wearing his symbol.

As Steve approached Y/N he took her hand, pressing a kiss to the top of it that set her cheeks on fire. She sat down giggling in her seat with Wanda, hardly able to look at Steve anymore even though she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Her breath got caught in her chest for a moment as the Winter Soldier glared in her direction. She swallowed the hard lump in her chest uncomfortably, feeling on edge by the intensity of his stare.

The Grandmaster leaves the ring as Ref Coulson pats down the legs of both men to make sure none of them have any weapons. Steve would never but you can’t put anything past Hydra. The bell rings and the match begins, both men circling each other. Steve puts his hand out to shake, an honorable sign of respect he shows towards all of his opponents but his former friend roughly slaps it away. The Winter Soldier lunges towards Steve to spear him to the ground, unleashing an assault of vicious punches to the champion.

Steve blocked what he could but it seems like the Winter Soldier is on a mission to take him out. Steve is able to push him off, rolling over to try and stand but his opponent is on his feet first The Winter Soldier grabbed Steve and squeezed him into a headlock, tightening his grip as Steve hissed. Steve tried to get out of the hold, clawing and punching his way to get the man who used to be Bucky to release it. Instead he bends his knees and gets his arms under the Winter Soldier’s thighs, with all of his strength Steve flipped him over his shoulder but the reprieve did not last long.

Just as quickly he was attacked again but Steve grabbed the Soldier’s hand, whipping him into the ropes. As the Winter Soldier ran back towards Steve he was caught with the strong force of Steve’s drop kick that sent him to the mat. Steve went to cover him for the pin but the Soldier kicked out. The match had everyone on edge, back and forth as they traded powerful moves until both men were laid out in the ring.

“Come on Steve!” Y/N shouted.

He was dazed, trying to get up as the ref began a countdown from ten. He slapped the mat with his palm slowly and the crowd joined him; slow claps that built with speed, encouraging Steve to get to his feet. The Winter Soldier stood before Steve did so he grabbed him by the back of the head, slamming his face into the turnbuckles. The Winter Soldier set Steve up in the corner, slapping his chest with a violent thwack. Steve screamed in pain, the sting burning his skin.

The Soldier slapped him two more times before he grabbed him by the hand and violently threw him into the other corner. Steve’s back hit the turnbuckle and he groaned in pain. The Winter Soldier ran towards him but at the last second Steve lifted his foot to kick him in the face. The Soldier stumbled and Steve hoisted himself up to the middle rope, jumping off and locking his arms around the Winter Soldier's head; the momentum allowed him to swing his body around and as Steve landed on his back the Winter Soldier was stunned from the impact of the top of his head being driven into the mat.

Steve goes for the cover but the Soldier just barely kicks out. The crowd groans in frustration with Steve who gets up. With the Winter Soldier still down Steve gets up, he leaps to the center of the ropes, springboards off the top rope and does a back flip. It’s the Star Spangled Splash and the crowd goes wild as Steve crashes down on the Winter Soldier. He goes for the cover again, the referee counts, one, two, thr– The Winter Soldier kicks out at the last second.

Frustration washes over an exhausted Steve. He grabs the Winter Soldier by the hair to get him to his feet. Steve gets the Soldier in a front facing headlock and tosses his left arm over his own neck. He hooks his own arm behind the Soldier’s left leg, cradling the Winter Soldier against him. His hold is locked tight and then Steve throws himself backwards, tossing the Winter Soldier over his head. He’s pinned to the mat, his head and leg still locked in Steve’s clutches, and Steve does a bridge to add more pressure to the hold.

Steve is waiting, holding the Winter Soldier down expecting the referee to be counting. He’s been holding him down for longer than the count of three so where is the ref? The crowd is screaming, telling Ref Coulson to turn around but he doesn’t hear them. He’s too busy dealing with Red Skull and Black Widow who had rushed out from the entrance. He knew it was almost over for the Winter Soldier and he wasn’t going to let Captain America have another victory over them.

Red Skull made Black Widow jump up on the curtain to distract the referee as Crossbones and Baron Zemo snuck inside the ring, stomping on Steve’s stomach. He released the hold, groaning as the men continued to stomp him.

“Turn around! Ref, turn around!” Y/N, Wanda and so many others pleaded.

Crossbones grabbed Steve, lifting him into a fireman’s carry as Zemo climbed to the top rope. He swung Steve around to disorient him, inadvertently knocking into Ref Coulson who dropped to the mat. Zemo flew off the top rope to add to Steve’s pain as Crossbones spun him out, spiking his head into the mat.

The Winter Soldier rolled out of the ring, going over to the table where the Grandmaster was sitting. He grabbed the championship belt in a vicious tug of war that the Grandmaster had no shot of winning. Steve was using the ropes to get to his feet and the Winter Soldier ran full steam, hitting him in the head with his own belt.

Chaos broke out as the bell was ringing for the match to end but no one inside the ring seemed to care. They used every opportunity they could to continue their assault on Steve.

Y/N got to her feet, leaning over the guardrails as she screamed at all of Hydra. The Winter Soldier whipped his head in her direction, his eyes flaring with rage. He signaled to Crossbones and Zemo who dragged a half-conscious Steve to his knees. He was in the corner, his head dropping forward as both men held his arms back.

The Winter Soldier jumped down from the ring with determination, stomping towards Y/N who was still giving him shit, screaming “You knew you could never beat Steve in a fair fight!”

Wanda was trying to pull Y/N down to her seat as the intimidating frame of the Winter Soldier hovered in front of them but it didn’t stop her. Y/N’s arms were in his face as she continued to defend her favorite wrestler. “You’ll never win! Steve will always kick your ugly, frostbitten ass!”

A round of “oohs” spread out from around her, the sound that quickly turned into “ahhs” as Y/N screamed. Her words were enough to break the Winter Soldier who grabbed her with two hands by the throat, lifting her over the guardrails. Her legs kicked furiously to get out of the chokehold as she struggled to breathe.

Wanda was screaming as the Winter Soldier placed Y/N down, only to quickly toss her into the ring. Confused, she crawled to the corner in an attempt to get out, feeling the unfamiliar padding under her palms but she didn’t get far. The Winter Soldier pulled her by the foot, dragging her back.

Y/N screamed for help and the Grandmaster shot up but Red Skull saw him coming and kicked him in the face, laying him out before he could make it into the ring. Cowering on all fours, Y/N began screaming as she felt the bottom of her sweatshirt being pulled off. She held onto the hem of the shirt she had on underneath; far too thin to be worn alone, her arms prickled with goosebumps but Y/N couldn’t think about that. Fear ran through her veins and she stumbled backwards, leaning against the turnbuckles. The Winter Soldier held up her sweatshirt that bore Steve’s symbol to the crowd and facing her again he ripped it in half, tossing the shredded fabric at Steve.

This jolted him alert and Steve looked around, getting his bearings. His eyes shot open wide as he realized one of his fans was in the ring. Steve struggled to break free and Red Skull saw the determination in his eyes. Steve was straining his muscles to loosen the hold but Red Skull came up behind him, locking Steve’s head in a chokehold as Crossbones and Zemo strengthened their hold on Steve’s arms.

Black Widow sauntered towards the fearful Y/N, who begged mercilessly to be left alone but she should have known Hydra only cares about themselves and they needed to make a point. There was nothing Steve could do but watch as Black Widow lifted Y/N above her shoulders in a fireman’s carry, the girl helpless in her arms.

Wanda screamed in fear as Black Widow popped Y/N’s legs up, throwing them behind her as she locked her arms around Y/N’s head, magnifying the impact on Y/N’s neck as she hit the mat.

The crowd lost their minds, screaming as one of their own was unmoving in the center of the ring. Steve fought harder to be free of his hold and his enemies let him go. He walked straight into a fierce kick to the stomach from the Winter Soldier who quickly hooked Steve’s arms behind his back, locking his grip around them.

This was it, his finisher– the Dead of Winter.

He lifted Steve into a vertical position with his back against the Soldier’s chest, holding him there as if to prove to the fans that he was obviously the stronger of the two former Howling Commandos. The Winter Soldier then dropped to the mat, driving Steve’s head straight into the unforgiving ring.

“HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!” The crowd went wild as the Winter Soldier bared his teeth, a growling scream as he defeated his former friend.

Steve was on his back unmoving as Black Widow dragged Y/N’s lifeless body and draped it over him. The Winter Soldier laid Steve’s belt on top of her, as he and Hydra taunted the crowd, showing them what they thought about Captain America, his fans and his stupid title.

Security was finally called in but it was too late, Hydra had left the ring. Ref Coulson was dazed but awake, horrified to see a fan in the ring. Weakened, he called out for medical attention the girl in the ring and Steve, telling them not to touch them.

Most of the crowd filed out of the building but some of them stayed, like Wanda who cried as she watched Y/N being loaded onto a stretcher, carefully taken out of the ring with a collar around her neck.

Y/N opened her eyes to find a massive shadowy figure standing over her. Through a curtain of dark hair she recognized the blue eyes of the Winter Soldier. A smile spread across his face as his hands came for her throat… removing the collar that was stabilizing her neck.

“How’d I do Buck?” she asked with excitement bursting in every word.

“So good doll,” Bucky said, taking her hand so she could sit up.

He stood between her legs, his arms finding their spot on her waist as he pressed a kiss to her lips. She tasted salt from his sweat but it was something she was used to after so many nights of training together.

“I can’t wait for you to make your debut. You and Steve versus me and Tash.”

She nodded, smiling just as widely as he was. “I think Wanda’s more excited to seek revenge on what ‘the Black Widow’ did to her friend,” Y/N joked. “Did she tell you she picked a gimmick name? Scarlet Witch.”

“It suits her,” Bucky said, taking his hand to gently rub away some dirt from the mat that was on Y/N’s cheek. “How ‘bout we get cleaned up and maybe tonight you can try and pin me?” A smirk pulled at his lips, the glint of mischief twinkled in Bucky’s eyes.

“Try?” Y/N scoffed, looking into the eyes of her boyfriend with a smirk of her own. “Oh I don’t need to try Bucky, I can get you on your back with ease.”

Bucky grinned, pressing another kiss to her soft lips as he helped her off the stretcher. Y/N already won his heart, a match that Bucky happily lost.

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