#but I couldn’t get Lizzie to look good in my style :(

[razgooftin]

my girlie she is abnormal ❤️

[jjunieworld]

CEILINGS ˒˒ 최연준͏

you’re both from two seperate worlds, but in the four corners of your bedroom the two of you can be together. even if your latest confession means it could be for the last time.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ choi yeonjun x fem!reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 none!

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ angst, smut, secret friends with benefits to ???, secret relationship, punk!yeonjun, nerd!reader, reader wears glasses, punk x nerd trope, some bad boy x good girl trope

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ unprotected sex, soft dom!yeonjun, kinda service top!yeonjun, pussy drunk!yeonjun, clit stimulation, slight overstimulation, heavy praise kink, marking, slight bulge kink?, petnames (baby, sweetheart, good girl, babygirl), creampie, riding, cowgirl, depictions of heartbreak, a lot of desperation lmao

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ happy birthday yeonjun my love!!! ♡ ♡ ♡ and happy early ggum release!!! this is inspired by the songs ceilings by lizzy mcalpine and in my room by julia wolf! haven’t wrote angsty smut in so long, i missed it hehe! wrote this while i was suffering from a migraine (> <。) the love and deepspace brainrot has been strong so if you see familiar dialogue… ʅ（‾◡◝）ʃ i hope you enjoy!! ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

∿ [ 4k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

if you tried really hard you could imagine that the four corners of your room was something else—somewhere else. somewhere other than your room. like, perhaps, a nice restaurant where the lights are warm and you’re sitting in the cozy back corner. or maybe a park on a day where it’s not too hot and not too cold. that perfect temperature where you can wear lighter clothing if you wanted, but that also gave you the opportunity to ask a lover for their sweater.

tonight, as you stared up at your ceiling, you pictured that your room was a cute little picnic date. you pictured that you and yeonjun ate cute little sandwiches together as you both watched various strangers pass by. you pictured that you and his relationship was ultimately more than it was.

yeonjun: your window’s still open, right?

the buzzing of your phone at such a late hour didn’t surprise you as much as it did before. you didn’t even have to check the contact name as you responded and tossed your phone back onto your nightstand, the device clanging against your stacked textbooks from your study session earlier. a sigh pushed through you.

you had been so hopelessly in love with yeonjun since you first laid eyes on him on campus—nonchalant attitude paired with his alternative clothing and headphones resting against his head that seeped out the rock music he was always listening to as he strode across the pavement. when his eyes met yours that day for the briefest of moments, you had to get to know him somehow.

you: you know it always is.

unfortunately for you, your social circles didn’t overlap in the slightest. yours consisted of studious students who were the top of their classes and who made sure that their assignments got turned in early. nerds, others would say, or perhaps geeks.

yeonjun’s on the other hand—his consisted of various alternative people. some in bold black and white makeup and black, frilly victorian style dresses, while others in tight, dark clothing and hair in their eyes that sported dyed colored stripes. all of them clad in black eyeliner that darkened their already tired looking eyes and listening to the same rock music he did.

he was rebellious and liked to break the rules while you abided by them. the hammering of loud drums and guitars soothed him while it was something you absolutely couldn’t stand. he was vulgar and spoke the first thing that came to his mind while you constantly overthought the polite answer you would give. yeonjun was night while you were day.

the two of you couldn’t have been more different.

but still, that didn’t stop you from being drawn to him. and that fateful day where you happened to run into him and drop all of your textbooks changed your relationship forever. never did you think your wide eyes and bumbling apologies would lead to you under him as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as your shared moans bounced off the walls of your room.

never did you expect him to ask you to keep it all a secret because he didn’t want his friends to know he was fucking the resident nerd.

you hear the familiar creaking of your window as yeonjun begins to open it and reach for your glasses in the mess on your nightstand. the blurriness of your room comes into focus right as yeonjun pokes his head through the window, effectively killing the daydream you were in. he pushes his bright orange hair off of his forehead as he steps through, finger tangling in the light blonde streaks within it.

“hey, babe,” yeonjun said as he swung his other leg over the ledge of the window. his black boots crumpled one of the discarded papers on your floor but he didn’t seem to notice as he shut the window behind him, locking the cold air out.

yeonjun turned towards you, already stripping out of his faded flannel. “that math test is already a bust. i literally couldn’t understand any of that shit. i don’t even know how i made the class… shocked that the professor hasn’t said anything to me about it yet.”

his cheeks were flushed from the cold and his dark brown eyeliner was smudged around his eyes as he stared down at your lying form. you pushed up on your elbows as you watched him take off the band t-shirt he was wearing. you stared at his bare upper-body with wide eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted as he kept talking.

you hated the way your heart fluttered and raced, hated the effect he had on you. you hated the way he smirked at you like he knew he had you wrapped around his pretty little finger. it was embarrassing.

you gulped as his eyes remained on yours as he slowed his fingers down to unbuckle the belt he was wearing. “you seem distracted…” yeonjun said, his voice mixed with amusement and slight teasing, “don’t tell me it was that hard! if you can’t do it, then there’s no way in hell i’m gonna.”

he kicked off his boots and moved closer to where you were on the bed. your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you stuttered out a response, “y-yeonjun… it’s late and we both have classes tomorrow… what are you doing here?”

in one swift motion he climbed over you, trapping your body underneath his. the tips of his dyed hair tickled your cheeks and the cold metal of his belt buckle against your lower stomach made you shiver. his mouth was at the shell of your ear as his whispered, “you know why i’m here.”

yeonjun pressed kisses down the side of your neck and along your jaw, stopping just before he reached your mouth. “besides, i wanted to see you.”

his hands trailed up your sides and under the thin fabric of the tank top you were wearing. before you knew it, it was over your head and you bare breasts were exposed fully for him. “i wanted to see the pretty flustered faces you make when i’m inside of you.”

cold fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, tugging down slowly. “and the way you try and avoid my eyes but can’t help but stare. can’t help but let those pretty moans escape your mouth,” yeonjun continued as his lips brushed against yours. he pulled your shorts and panties down until you were completely naked under him.

“you’ve been avoiding me.”

he pulled away completely and stood from your bed, his words hanging in the air. his eyes never left yours as he tugged his black jeans down.

your chest rose and fell heavily as your eyes trailed down to the obvious bulge in his boxers, the dim light of your bedside lamp making it more apparent. you shook your head as your eyes met his gaze once more, “i haven’t.”

you have been avoiding him. not purposely, but you guessed that it was to the extent that he noticed. when he would walk in your direction on campus you would go a different way to your class. you’d force yourself to not let your eyes linger on his retreating frame and instead focused on what the task was at hand.

it shocked you that he noticed, since he usually ignored your existence outside of these four walls. “it just… wouldn’t work…” he had told you once as you stayed curled up against his naked body one night. “we’re like two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards.”

“you have,” yeonjun stated, pulling down his boxers so he too was completely naked, spare the small skull necklace you had gifted him a couple months back. his large cock hit against his lower stomach, the precum dripping from the slit glittering in the dim lighting.

he returned back to his hovering position over you, heavy cock brushing against you and causing your legs to tighten slightly around his waist as arousal pooled at the pit of your stomach. the small skull necklace dangled above your face as his head tilted to the side and plump lips formed a tiny pout. “why?” yeonjun asked, voice lowered.

the tips of his fingers grazed along your hips and left goosebumps in it’s wake as he waited for your answer. your breath hitched in response. “i-it’s—school’s just been hectic…” you trailed. “finals are coming up.”

yeonjun’s head dipped to the crook of your neck. he hummed against the skin, causing you to shiver again. he dragged his nose up your jawline until his lips brushed against yours once more. “liar,” he whispered and then lowered his lips onto yours fully.

he kissed you slowly, yet his lips pressed onto yours roughly. yeonjun’s hands inched up your sides and stopped just below your breasts. he then pulled away just before the two of you struggled for air.

your glasses fell down your nose bridge and he adjusted them for you. “i’ll just have to fuck the answer out of you,” he concluded, his voice louder. his other hand dipping between your legs to collect the slick that formed at your core.

yeonjun spread the slickness all through your folds and throbbing clit, making your back arch off the mattress slightly as a small moan pushed between your lips. “or you could just tell me the truth…” he spoke, thumb rubbing your clit and sending waves of pleasure up your body.

your eyes squeezed shut, “that is t-the truth.”

“come on, baby. you don’t even believe that,” yeonjun responded, incredulous. he hummed again and grabbed his cock with the hand that was circling your clit, rubbing the reddened tip up and down your arousal. he used his other hand to hold down the lower half of your body.

how could you tell him the truth? it was clear that he wasn’t looking for a relationship with you that wasn’t purely physical—and a secret at that. even now, his words rang through your head: “we’re like two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards.”

the two of you didn’t even fit together.

you couldn’t possibly say that you were hopelessly in love with him. that you daydreamed scenarios where the two of you were together, really together. scenarios where you held his hand in public and where he wasn’t afraid to kiss you in front of his friends and anyone else who may be watching.

it was a pipe dream, and you knew it. you knew he knew it, too. and yet…

yet, you wished that maybe your thoughts would be proven wrong. maybe he would smile and say that he loved you too, that he wanted to be with you too. publically.

breath hitching, you said in a low whine, “i’ve been stressed.”

it wasn’t technically a lie, but it was still far from the truth. you just really didn’t want to ruin what the two of you already had going on. it would absolutely crush you, and you already looked at yeonjun like he hung the stars in the sky himself.

your hips rolled up towards his on their own and you dug your head into the pillow underneath you. “i’ve been avoiding everyone, not just you,” you continued.

yeonjun hummed again and you could tell that he still didn’t believe you, but would drop it for the time being. “then i’ll make you feel better.” his lips were on yours again, rough and full of desperate need just as he pushed himself inside you fully.

you broke away from him suddenly, crying out in a loud moan that yeonjun then cut off with his lips. his hand still pressed down on you as he thrusted into you again. he brought his free hand up to cup your face gently, all while you moaned into his mouth.

his pretty lips sucked dark marks onto your neck, claiming you as his as they trailed down to your breasts. the obscene sounds the two of you made together bounced off the walls and you were lucky that you lived alone in this small apartment.

“fuck, you’re so wet. does my cock in you feel good, sweetheart?” yeonjun asked and all you could do was nod as he fucked into you deeper. he nodded along with you, “yeah? you want more? you’re still stressed?”

whimpers fell from your lips as he kissed the love bites he just left. “w-want… more. please,” you begged.

yeonjun chuckled, pretty smile lighting up his features. he then moved the two of you so you were now straddling him as he laid on your bed. your eyes widened in shock. usually he had you pinned under him as he fucked you. never have he let you ride him before.

“ride me, baby?” yeonjun asked. “take all of your stress out on me.”

you inhaled sharply as you looked down at him, looked down at his length laying on his lower abdomen and wet with your arousal. you shook your head. there was no way you were gonna be able to ride him—at least not on your own.

he must’ve sensed your hesitance because he cupped your face and rubbed his thumb along your cheek. “you can do it. you’ve taken all of me before. don’t worry, i’ll help you.” yeonjun’s voice was low with reassurance and you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

“okay,” you shakily muttered.

yeonjun nodded again with you, “let me help you feel better.” his hands found your waist and pulled you towards him as he kissed you, melting your worries.

he pulled away and looked down between the both of you as he sat up more. he guided your hips up and reached down to prop his cock up for you. “sit on it,” yeonjun said.

your hands found his biceps and grabbed onto them tightly as you aligned yourself. slowly, your pussy sunk down on him inch by inch, wrapping around his length and filling you up so much that you felt like you could feel him in your chest. yeonjun let out a guttural moan as he fell back against your headboard. “good…” he whimpered out, trying his hardest to steady his breathing. his hands on your waist moved down to your hips as they tightened.

“good girl, just like that. see? i told you you could do it. fuck—“ yeonjun suddenly thrusted up into you, eyes rolling back slightly. “fuck, baby you feel so good,” he breathed out through a moan, “god, you drive me crazy.”

the corners of your mouth rose as you watched his reaction. you never gotten this clear of a view of his face and you were enjoying every moment of it. experimentally, you rolled your hips forward and immediately let out a loud moan. yeonjun’s fingers dug into your hips hard, “s-shit, keep doing that. gonna make me cum if you keep moving those pretty hips like that.”

he moved your hips for you as he stared at you through hooded lids, mouth open as more moans passed his lips. you bet your expression mirrored his as you moved your hips more, brows furrowing as shock waves of pleasure shot up through you.

you placed your hands flat on his bare chest as your hips moved faster. your head flew back as yeonjun kneaded your bouncing tits, thumbs rubbing over your perked nipples. “keep going,” he whined through labored breaths, thrusting his hips up against yours as you moved.

“jjunie, i’m gonna—“ you could barely finish your words as he thrusted up towards you and the rope in your stomach completely snapped. you fell backwards onto your hands, giving him a full view of your shaking body, glistening in the dim lamp light with a layer of sweat.

you tried to catch your breath as best you could as pleasure rippled throughout you and made your limbs feel like jelly. you wanted to help him too, so in a weak motion you used your hands behind your back to roll your hips again, using the last bit of strength to raise your hips as well as you dropped them back down on his throbbing cock.

the sound the two of your bodies made was completely lewd. cum dripped from out of you and around his cock and down his thick length. yeonjun watched the whole thing and you swear you saw the last resolve in him break as his mind completely fogged over. “my fucking god,” he half moaned, half muttered as he sat up completely. in one swift movement his tight grip held your hips and he fucked into you so deep and unrelenting that you saw new galaxies.

all you had was the weakening strength of your arms behind you to keep you afloat, and the more he fucked you, the more it wavered. “you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” yeonjun sputtered between moans. “you and this pretty fucking pussy of yours, devouring my cock whole. all i can fucking think about these days.”

you barely heard anything yeonjun was saying with the ringing in your ears, you think that he barely heard himself, honestly. his mouth was stringing together incoherent words and praises between various curses as he fucked you deeper and deeper. your arms shook and so did your body not just from your rapidly numbing body, but also from the sheer force of his thrusts—so desperate and so sloppy as he chased his incoming release.

“t-too… m-much!” you cried, trying to catch his gaze through the tears forming in your eyes and your tits bouncing in your face. “can’t take a-anymore!”

yeonjun shushed you softly as his hands moved to your waist, his frenzied pace not stopping. he pressed you up against his chest and slammed his lips onto yours. “relax,” he whispered breathlessly between kisses as his body moved in sync with yours, “you can take it.”

he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, moans falling from his parted lips as he released inside of you and filled you up impossibly more. your head fell to the crook of yeonjun’s neck as the two of you caught your breath in comfortable silence. after a couple minutes, yeonjun broke it and breathed, “good job, babygirl.”

yeonjun moved you onto your back, still deep inside of you. he pulled out slowly, the base of his cock covered in a white ring of cum as more of it poured out of you and down the curve of your ass. he watched it all with eager, hungry eyes.

“fuck… look at that,” yeonjun mumbled under his breath. he dragged his thumb along your cum covered folds, pushing some of it back inside you just to watch it pour out of you again. you jerked as your breath hitched and you tried to close your legs but yeonjun used his thighs and free hand to keep them open. “so pretty, makes me want to pump your pussy full of more of my cum,” he continued, louder this time.

he leaned down to greet your lips in a slow kiss, hands touching any part of your body that he could access. the two of you stayed like that for a while as you came down from your sex high, lips locked together. your hands were in his dyed hair, pulling at the tips as you whimpered softly. your core throbbed and you were filled with need once again.

yeonjun smiled against your lips. you had to give it to him, he knew your body well. a low hum came from the back of his throat and he pulled away. “it’s late,” he muttered before kissing your lips again and pulling away fully.

he disappeared for a moment and came back with a warm, wet towel to clean the two of you up. after he turned to pull his boxers back on as you laid under the covers naked. you watched as he started to pull on his black jeans, your heart racing with every tug. all you could think about was how you didn’t want him to go. how you didn’t want to go back to practically being strangers again.

suddenly the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, your head too clouded to think properly about the consequences your words may have. “listen… i—“

“don’t tell me you’re in love with me,” yeonjun joked in a teasing voice as he buckled his belt. your mouth clamped shut and heavy silence filled the room as yeonjun put his shirt and flannel back on. he paused once you didn’t say anything, turning to look at you from your window.

he hesitated before sighing and reaching down to put his boots back on. you tried to not let the tears fill your eyes in front of him as thick tension filled the air, opting to tug the blanket tighter around your body. “let’s not ruin a good thing, okay?” yeonjun said, lowly, avoiding your eyes.

yeonjun opened your window and the cold night air hit you full force, causing goosebumps to form along the parts of your skin that were exposed. the moonlight made the skull necklace around his neck sparkle. “i’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked as he turned to face you.

you hid your face from his view as you looked to the side just as the tear rolled down your cheek. you nodded, it was a solemn nod that you tried to mask. you moved your hand to fix your hair in a discreet way to wipe the tear away and looked at him with the biggest smile you could muster. it didn’t reach your eyes.

you could tell he didn’t buy it and that he wanted to say something about it, but you laid down before he could and focused your eyes on your ceiling. you heard his soft sigh and the window close after he stepped through it, effectively cutting off the cold air blowing into your room.

all at once it felt like the stars had come crashing down around you. no matter how hard you tried, it felt like you couldn’t get oxygen to your lungs and hot, blistering tears fell from your eyes. you heaved in breaths of air that did absolutely nothing.

sobs wracked your body that were so loud you were sure that yeonjun could hear them outside. they hit you like a tidal wave and the pressure of it all was making you drown. you clutched at your chest as you laid in a ball beneath the covers, gasping for air as you cried harder and harder.

how could you be so stupid? you knew the risk—knew that he didn’t feel that way about you and still you opened your big mouth. and for what? you wouldn’t be shocked if your relationship ended here. if you never saw yeonjun again and the two of you went back to being actual strangers, someone who you stared at from a distance.

you’d never see his face again. you’d never see his band tees and smudged eyeliner, never hear his loud rock music that gave you a headache, never feel his skin against yours—again. it was completely and utterly over, and it was all your fault. you felt sick to your stomach.

like a zombie, you rose from the grave that was your bed and numbly put your pajamas back on, feeling disgusted with yourself. you stripped your bed of the old sheets and covers and replaced them with new, clean ones. you shut off your bedside lamp as you fell apart in the darkness, more pained sobs forcing its way through your mouth.

you’d never see yeonjun again—not in the same dim light you once saw him in before.

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

🏷️﹙ want to be added to my permanent taglist? click here ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @yeonjunsfox @nxzz-skz @jakeswifez @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @skaterhoon @aaa-sia @jeonghaniehaee @todorokiskitten @onlyhyunjin @lilyuwon @who-tf-soddhi @americanojake @in-somnias-world @ghstzzn @chaconadine @inkigayocamman @won4me @usnve @aduh0308

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[emsprovisions]

“you really thought i wouldn’t remember what you like? please, give me a little credit.” from the trope prompts...go wild...

Title: it’d be so nice, right? Tags: Human au | exes to lovers | early-twenties gustho A/N: this is sooo heavily inspired by “skinny dipping” by Sabrina Carpenter Word count: 873 words Prompt: Tropes

Gus certainly wasn’t planning on running into his ex on Valentine’s Day of all days. Really, he’d hoped to never run into Matt Tholomule at all if he could help it. He was still trying to get over him almost a year later, and sure, Gus thought he was just being stupid when every little thing reminded him of Matt. He couldn’t even walk into a hardware store without thinking about his ex’s job, or the sets they used to build together for the theatre department at school. 

So when Gus’s head snapped up when he heard the barista call a “double espresso over ice with light milk for Matt,” he wasn’t expecting it to actually be his Matt. He just figured maybe a lot of Matt’s had a terrible taste in coffee. 

He wasn’t so lucky.

Matt caught Gus’s eye, having noticed him from the spectacle he’d put on when the barista called his name. He grinned that stupid lopsided grin that Gus remembered too well. There was a small scar on the right corner of his bottom lip. His left cheek dimpled with his smile. Gus gulped and tried his best to put a hamper on his emotions when it became increasingly clear that Matt was approaching him. 

“Hi, Gus.” Gus’s insides tensed up hearing Matt’s voice saying his name. It felt so right. It felt so wrong. 

He smiled cordially at his ex, trying to hide all of his true emotions so Matt wouldn’t be able to tell how much seeing him was affecting him. 

Somewhere in his mind, a little animated Augustus was stomping on Matt’s stupid heart and his stupid face, Lizzie McGuire style. 

“Hi,” he said back. Then, before he could help it, “How are you?” 

“I’m good! It’s been awhile. You look really good.” 

Gus felt his face begin to flush. “Thanks,” he said awkwardly, looking anywhere but Matt’s eyes. 

“So, How’s your dad?” Matt asked, changing the subject.

Gus shrugged. “He’s alright, still working too hard.”

“Yeah,” Matt laughed. “My folks, too. Hey, how’s grad school going?”

Gus was a bit alarmed by the small talk. Matt was supposed to know all of these things about him already. He was supposed to be by his side. It was weird there were gaps in his knowledge about Gus. Though Gus realized that, in nine months, anything could be different with Matt. He wondered briefly if Matt was seeing someone new, if he’d already replaced him. Gus hadn’t been able to move on, hadn’t gone on any dates or tried to meet any guys–much to Skara’s dismay. It was Matt, his heart belonged to Matt, it always had. Right now, back in Matt’s presence, he was forgetting why his heart ever stopped belonging to Matt. He couldn’t seem to recall any of the ways they had self-sabotaged their relationship, their fights in Steve’s garage, Matt’s commitment issues. 

“Grad school’s going well, I’m pretty much all geared up to graduate in the fall.” Gus said, smiling a bit. He was proud of the hard work that he had accomplished.  

“That’s awesome! You’re gonna be the most bad-ass librarian, man. I’m still at my job and working slowly on my bachelor’s. I’ll probably graduate next year.”

“That’s great to hear, Matt!” Gus couldn’t be certain right now, but he was pretty sure Matt’s six-year long and counting degree in architecture had been one of the wedges in their crumbling relationship. It really had been a long time.

Matt suddenly looked around where Gus was sitting. “You didn’t get a drink yet?”

“Oh,” Gus said lamely. “No, I was, uh, waiting for Skara. She was taking pity on me on single’s awareness day.”

“Skara running late? Neeever.” Matt laughed. “Can I get you something though, while you wait, I mean?”

Every alarm bell in Gus’s head was screaming no. “Yeah, sure.”

“Venti upside-down caramel macchiato with oat milk?” Matt asked, pointing at Gus to confirm his order even as he started heading to the register. 

Gus sat back in pure shock. “Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows knit together as he stared at Matt hard. 

“What? You thought I wouldn’t remember your order?” He grinned that dumb lopsided grin again. “Please, Augustus Give me more credit than that. After all, you remember mine too.”

Gus felt his cheeks flush with heat as Matt went to order his drink. 

He came back a few minutes later with Gus’s sugary, caffeinated drink in hand. “You know, this has been really nice. Maybe we should do this on purpose sometime.”

Gus blinked at him. “What, like a date?”

“Maybe,” Matt grinned. “Doesn’t have to be. You free Friday? We could go to Antonio’s like we used to.”

“You don’t think there’s too many memories attached to that place?” Gus chuckled nervously.

“Not if we don’t sit at our old table,” Matt shrugged. 

And Gus couldn’t fathom anything wrong with that. It was just dinner. It didn’t even have to be a date, Matt said so. And he missed Matt. So, so much. 

“Friday it is,” Gus smiled. 

They could just have dinner, it’d be that simple. They’d avoid their old table. There’d be no baggage. They could just exist. 

Matt smiled back. “See you Friday!”

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 112. brb x oc

a/n: hey yo. I'm not the greatest still but I couldn't help myself...idk what it says about me when I feel like I write better when im sad. l ol

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none. ROOSTER IS THE BEST HUSBAND

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64/65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84/85/86/87/88

/89/90/91/92/93/94/95/96/97/98/99/100/101/102/103/104/105

/106/107/108/109/110/111

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva

-

She turned in front of the mirror so many times it gave her whiplash. Since tonight she came home early from the bar, it gave her enough time to get ready and dress up in a way it’d be…good for the event.

Nicole was with her parents already, their little girl was so used to this that she just hugged her mother and waved at them. Meanwhile Beatrice had to be dragged by Rooster back into the car, feeling like she was ready to cry because she’d never see her daughter.

Again, overreacting.

Now she was kneeling in front of their sink, her makeup all thrown over the marble and the dress she wore pulled up to her upper thighs. Her head was being held by her hands and she didn’t know what she could do, because she feared this wasn’t good enough. The dress, obviously was, but the makeup? It wasn’t that fancy, the dress was a light pink peasant sleeve dress with details in gold in the seams.

It was simple but it was obviously Marcus’ style. Beatrice inhales, fixing her low braid every now and again, only to flap her hands because she couldn’t tug on it any longer, “Damn it, okay,okay.” she breathes out, standing to her feet and patting her knees, only to pace around in the bathroom, “I’m okay, everything is okay. I’m okay!”

“Bea?”

“I’m okay!”

The sudden yelp leaves her husband silent for a few seconds, possibly because of shock, but she hears his voice again after a few seconds, “Baby…I just wanted to check on you…are you sure you are okay?”

“I…yes.--no.I’m so nervous.”

“Are you dressed?”

“Just need to put on my shoes…Rooster.I-I’m scared.”

She hears him shuffling outside, getting closer to the door and gently parting it just enough for his voice to come clearer, “Can I come in?” she hums positively, stepping back to give him enough room once he got inside. Bradley opened the door fully, his eyes immediately dragging down her body, appreciating how that fabric hugged her curves and stopped a few inches above her knees.

He licks his lips, still holding onto the door handle, mainly to keep himself upright, “...damn.”

“Roos.”

“I’m sorry gorgeous,I’m…” he drops his gaze again, “Admiring…fuck you look so good.”

“I do?”

He just gives her a confused look, snorting a laugh, ‘Hell yeah, you do.” he gets closer after shutting the door, still dragging his eyes up and down her body, “Give me a full view.” and he spins his index finger, the request is enough to make her laugh a bit, complying after a few seconds. She’s…very nervous, and clutching her hands together, she looks absolutely stunning but clearly felt out of her own space.

Beatrice chews her lower lip, gesturing to her face, “And my makeup?”

‘It’s perfect.”

‘Is it too much?”

“No, course not.” he smiles,gently brushing his thumb over the light blush on her cheeks. This one was artificial but it worked just as well as her actual one, “You look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”

Beatrice’s eyebrows lowered and her smile widened, the little spark of courage shining in her eyes after he said that was enough to make him lean down and kiss her forehead, “You look like a fairy.” she laughs softly, the sound light and almost relieved, “Listen…I know neither of us are part of shit like this, we aren’t high society…but you worked with Marcus, he invited us. He wants us there.”

“I know…”

Rooster takes hold of her small hands and brings them to his lips, kissing her knuckles, “Gorgeous, come on.” he shakes her hands a bit to get a response out of her, ‘You know you can do this.” she drops her gaze to the ground, chewing the inside of her lip, “You did it before, you had your face on a billboard. In the middle of the street…for four months.”

She gives him a small side smile, “I appreciate your support,Roos…it really…I…I just get so nervous with social stuff like this. I’m used to the bar, hell even the reunion was bad but I managed it…but this? I’ll see famous brand designers from all around the world and what am I going to do?”

“You’ll be there,” he drops her hands only to place his on the flare of her hips, ‘With me,” he brings her closer, “Looking absolutely beautiful, making everyone wonder how the hell is someone like you real…and I’ll be there holding your hand, your waist or your ass if you need any more support.” that sneaks a chortle out of her, one she tries to hide by pressing her face to his chest, “You’ll do so great,gorgeous.”

Beatrice peeks at him through her lashes, chewing the side of her mouth for a few seconds before inhaling shakily, for courage, “Yeah, you are right…it’ll be great.”

“It will.”

“...just…if I feel too overwhelmed-”

“We’ll get out of there before anyone notices us.”

Beatrice’s smile softened over his response, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his lips, ‘Thank you.” she says, running her hands down the fabric of his shirt - he looked so good in dark blue it should be illegal. Marcus knew that too, or else why would he send Rooster this outfit? -  “I’m going to put my shoes on and then we can go.”

He stays there for a few more minutes, then kisses the top of her head, “Okay.” he whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Beatrice slowly breaks free of the hold he had on her hand, dropping her own to her side when Rooster leaves the bathroom. She stood there, one hand on top of her heart and a thankful smile on her face…sometimes she wondered if he ever imagined he’d join a fashion launch when he was younger.

Or even when he was older.

His line of work was so specific after all.

But Beatrice didn’t have time to think about that now, she was already anxious, the last thing she needed was worry even more, adding his own thoughts to the mix. She quickly slip on the beige high heel sandals she had, wincing when the strap slapped against the back of her ankle in her hurry.

She walks out to see him sitting on the bed, hands clasped between his legs and his smile widening when he saw her, “Ready?” she only nodded in silence, grabbing her clutch and shuffling over to him, immediately grabbing his hand, “You’ll be okay.”

“Hrrm!” was her disgruntled response, “I don’t feel like throwing up yet, so that’s good. The nerves could be calming down.”

“It’ll be fine…do you know where this will be?”

“At Marcus’ house, it’s…on the hills.” she mutters, “You know, the place where neither of us would ever dream of stepping on.”

“Until now.”

He was doing a great job in pushing her pessimistic thoughts aside, Bea could even think clearer with him speaking to her. She hoped it’d stay during the night, “Yeah…until now.” she lets him lead her down the stairs, the dogs circling them as they walked to the front door, Beatrice could just barely pet them before they left, her hand felt…sweaty and gross, almost felt wrong to give their dogs parting caresses.

She flexes her fingers with a grunt,”I’m sweating like a sinner in church.”

Rooster looks down at her hand, seeing that she pulled out some hand wipes from inside her clutch to rub them almost obsessively. The sound of the moist tissue rubbing against her skin was a repetitive squeak that she didn’t seem to notice.

Rooster just watched, his hands on his hips and head partially tilted, hoping that she’d notice his eyes on her and finally remember that everything was going to be okay. Beatrice does so, slowly, her hand wet because of the lavender scented wipes, eyes wide and worried much like before, “Sorry.” she says sheepishly, quickly tossing the used wipes in their trash can, “I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm…I better get in the car before I chicken out,Roos.”

He opens the passenger door for her, smiling sweetly because even when she’s nervous she’s the cutest being on this planet, almost sinking into the seat and keeping her knees up to her chest, sandals abandoned on the floor as she hugs her legs. 

As soon as he enters himself, he gives her one last look as he turns the car on. She’s still hugging her legs, still looking worried and she has a little pout that only appears cuter because of the red lip tint on her lips, “Baby.” he calls once, gently plucking one of her hands from her legs, “You’ll do great. You’ll be great.” she barely nods at him and he knows she’s mentally preparing herself for whatever it was that the night was going to bring.

He wasn’t upset by her silence, because he did see the smallest lift of her lips when she heard his voice, so he just kissed the back of her knuckles and kept her free hand interlaced with his, driving one handed to the address that Marcus gave them.

He had to admit it was quite a distance from their house, in fact from…a lot of places they knew. They neared a part of San Diego that smelled rich, it looked rich and well, it was pretty rich.

“This is the place where the Oda clientele live.” Beatrice tries to joke as soon as they are allowed to enter the gated community after the guy in front let them pass. Rooster chuckled softly, agreeing with her and both tried to contain their surprised stares when they rolled inside…because those houses were huge.

Beatrice leans closer to his shoulder when they drive past another one, “I think Meryl Streep owns this house.”

“Wouldn’t she live in LA?”

“I mean,I heard she had several properties…even in New York.” she muttered, propping her chin on his shoulder, “Do you think any of the Kardashians will be at this launch?”

“Maybe.” he says, “Does Marcus even like them?”

“...I don’t know,maybe.”

Rooster smiles back at her, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb on her jawline, “You’ll be okay.”

Beatrice makes a little noise on his shoulder, but her smile widens and he feels her thumb gently brushing against his knuckles. She nods, but then slowly lifts her head when she sees the immense line of cars leading up to a dark colored house with thick coconut trees surrounding it. She could see Hangman’s car, so that meant Evelyn was there too…and she also felt a shiver dart up her spine.

“Oh God…this is happening.” she whispers, “This is really happening,Roos.”

“It is gorgeous.”

"There 's no…turning back.”

Rooster feels her body straight as a rod against her seat, her eyes wide and brows furrowed as she quickly slips the sandals back on, “Baby.” she isn’t listening to him, she’s back in her focused state and he could only chuckle quietly as he rolls to a park, not so far from the entrance. He waits a bit with his hands on his thighs for Beatrice to say something, his wife instead lifts her hands in front of her body and he could see the slight tremble.

“...I’m shaking.’ she says, clenching her hands into fists, curling into herself on the seat, her forehead touching her knees and hair covering her face, “I feel like I’m going to throw up.” his large warm hand touches the bare part of her back, rubbing it in soothing circles and dragging his fingers up and down her spine, “Rooster….Is there anyone outside?”

Rooster tilts his head to the entrance, “A few, mainly security.” he mutters, “No one famous that I know of.”

‘Do you think we can get out?”

“I think so…do you feel ready to?”

She lifts her torso to give him a worried look, “I don’t think I have a choice anymore.” and she laughs nervously, her smile immediately disappearing into a blank look, “What am I doing?” she groans, sinking even more, almost hiding herself into the seat, her hands on her temples, “Jesus Christ,Rooster. What am I doing? I-I…this…I don’t–”

“Baby, baby listen.” he holds her hands,kissing her knuckles, “You are about to hyperventilate. It’s okay,I’m with you. We’ll go in there, keep to ourselves and leave if you feel too overwhelmed.” her lower lip wobbles a bit, “Hey, baby, pretty girl. Look at me.” he has to cup her chin to physically turn her head towards his, “You’ll be okay.”

“This isn’t my world, Roos.” she whispers, “I don’t know if I should be here.”

Her self doubt was screaming and he could see it. He was sure that she’s been triggered ever since early morning but now it was getting too hard to handle, “Baby, you deserve to be here…hell, you worked with Marcus, he likes you and is so thankful for you.” he sees her eyes flick to a group of skinny women walking past the car, their dresses beautiful and flowing with the wind, “...you are gorgeous, you are beautiful and you are deserving to be here.”

Beatrice looked so scared she couldn’t even reply, she just held her hands tight, knuckles going white with how strong her grip was, “I…” she looked back at the people, then towards Rooster, “I…okay…”

“Okay?” she nods quietly, not humming nor saying anything, mostly because she felt ready to cry at any second. He kisses her hand, then her forehead, keeping his lips there for a few seconds just so she could relax before he walks out of the car to open the door for her. He waits for Beatrice to take his hand, she hesitates, looking from him to the house then back at him, “You can do it.” he whispers, spreading his fingers as his hand got closer to her face, “You can do it, gorgeous. You did it this far.”

Beatrice chews her lower lip, eventually dropping her shaking hand to his and letting him pull her up. She tries to not bury herself into his chest when he does so, choosing to stay partially behind him with her eyes squinting because of the wind as he locks the door.

My my my, what are you doing here?

Oh no.

Wrong party, wrong place, wrong time. What do you think? That you are special?

She tries to ignore the goblin voice by rubbing her arms, creating an invisible shield around herself only to see more skinny models making their way to the house.

If you hurry, you can run off. No one will miss you, maybe not even Rooster.

She clenches her eyes, bouncing on the spot for a few seconds with her heels clicking on the ground. She then leans forward a bit, holding herself up by placing her hands on her thighs, smell the flower, blow the candle. Rooster stays in front of her, looking around like the watchful husband he was, glaring at anyone who seemed to stare at his wife for too long. His hand returns to her upper back, gently rubbing the skin “Come on,gorgeous.” he whispers, the cold of his wedding ring soothing her nervous and hot skin, “You can do it, just for a little while.”

“J-Just for a little while.”

He hated seeing her like this, but he was serious. They’d stay a little while, hell,even less if she got worse, “Yeah,gorgeous. Just for a little while. Can you do that?” Beatrice nods, slowly standing straight and sniffling a bit. She teared up just enough to form tiny splotches of eyeliner on the corner of her eyes, he wasted no time in gently wiping it away, “There you go, fucking beautiful.” she gave him a weak smile, “Okay…hold onto me.” she already clasped his hand, “Give me the invitations, you won’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

He knew she was too anxious to talk to anyone now, so she just opened her clutch to pull the light green papers out, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,gorgeous.” she laughs softly when he says that, waiting for him to close the door and dropping the hand from hers towards her waist, bringing her closer to his side as they walk up to the entrance of that enormous house. It was beautiful, with several plants around the front, four large security guards that just looked around ominously to everyone that walked in, a teal colored light illuminated the inside.

Amazingly neither of them could hear anything from the inside, no music, no voices, just a subtle vibration of what could only be assumed was a beat. Beatrice looked at the ‘WELCOME’ mat below her feet as Rooster talked to the security guards outside, choosing to focus on how the letters curved up instead of anything else.

As the doors opened however, they were faced with a long illuminated hallway and the vibration only getting louder, with the distant echo of a song being played. Beatrice looked around the hallway, following the trail of lights that disappeared behind dark doors, doors that had doorhandles with golden ‘MB’ engraved into it.

Before either of them could open it however, they parted automatically and they were hit the music. It wasn’t that loud that’d break their eardrums but it was enough to vibrate on the floor. Beatrice however, stood still once she noticed the amount of people in there, her fingers digging in her clutch so hard she could hear the fake leather creaking, “Hrn..” was her disgruntled noise, shuffling almost behind Rooster, “T-There’s a lot of people.”

There wasn’t, but in her mind, it was enough.

“A few.” Rooster said, hugging her close to his side, his eyes moving around a bit until he noticed two people in the crowd, “I see Evelyn and Jake.”

She perked up, “Really?”

‘Yeah…think you can go there?” 

Beatrice looked over to where he gestured and nodded silently, “Yes,I think so.” she whispers, “I don’t see Marcus anywhere.”

“He’s probably mingling, it is his launch party after all.” Rooster comments, slowly walking forward with Beatrice glued to him.

Run, you should run. Before the doors close. Can you run that fast? Of course not, you’ll mess up Beatrice. You know you will.

She hated that this stupid voice returned now, right now when she was trying her best to get better. All it needed was a bigger social gathering than her reunion to make itself known again.

Run,run,run, that’s all you can do…that is, if you could do it.

“Shut up.”

“Huh?”

Beatrice’s head snap up towards Rooster, her husband giving her a worried look, ‘Oh,um…nothing just–”she gestures to her head with an awkward laugh, “It’s um…um…kinda messing with me.” and of course Rooster’s brows lowered because he knew how hard she’s being with herself.

She was going to have a good time, he was sure of it. And he was going to help.

“It’s okay, gorgeous. Is it quiet now?” he asks as he leads them through the sea of people to where their friends were.

“Kind of.”

“Just let me know if it gets worse.” he murmurs, kissing the top of her head and then her forehead, “I’ll snatch you away in a second.” and her little smile was enough for him to smile back, gently brushing his thumb over her lower lip. 

Evelyn was the first one who noticed them, slowly standing to her feet - Jake’s hands hovering by her sides and back - with a small grin, “You two got here fashionably late.” she said, her eyes immediately dropping to Beatrice’s deer in the headlights expression, it was obvious her anxiety acted up by the way she was looking around. She greets Bradley first, then immediately turns to Beatrice once he talks to Jake, “Are you okay?”

She gets a weak and shaky thumbs up from her friend.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-Yeah.I…I am just,” she turns her head when she sees someone walking by,”Is that Gigi Hadid?”

Evelyn looks up, “No she’s not here yet.”

“Yet??” Beatrice looks ready to pass out, her smile going from kind to nervous, “Oh…ahaha, she-she’s coming then.” she feels like her legs are wobbling so she holds onto Rooster to remain standing, “Oh that’s…that’s nice.”

Rooster stops the conversation to look at her, “You okay?”

“Gigi Hadid is coming.” she says, “To the party.”

“Really?” Beatrice holds onto his arm for dear life, “...you’ll be okay,gorgeous. You won’t be alone.”

Beatrice’s little laugh is the only thing he gets, followed by a squeeze to his arm. “Maybe I should get drunk- no that’s a bad idea.” she mutters, both Evelyn and Jake looking over at her, “It’s a bad idea. No I’m just…going to stay in this very spot. With you, not moving until the party is over.”

“I mean,” Evelyn comments, “We’ll still have to watch the launch,so…”

Beatrice’s face got even more desperate and she only clung to her husband tighter, “You know what, maybe I should get drunk.”

[fredborges98]

L`ALTRA PAR - PELÍCULA COMPLETA EGIPCIA

Texto: Bilíngue com tradução e versão pelo autor.

Por : Emma Vardy da BBC e Fred Borges da Reuters.

Por uma sociedade " dumb" ( burra) de telefones e "smart"( inteligente) de humanidade, solidariedade, fraternidade, profundidade relacional, de uma sociedade " liquid"( líquida) para uma sociedade " thick"e " deep" ( agregada e profunda).

Pois o que realmente precisamos é AMOR e da distribuição da riqueza entre os povos.

Até agora a riqueza só serviu para se concentrar em alguns "titãs" da tecnologia e empobrecer grande parte da população mundial de humanismo ou humanidade, principalmente entre os jovens!

For a "dumb" society of telephones and "smart" society of humanity, solidarity, fraternity, relational depth! From a "liquid" society to a "thick" and "deep" society (aggregated and deep).

Because what we really need is LOVE and the distribution of wealth among people.

Until now, wealth has only served to concentrate on a few "titans" of technology and impoverish a large part of the world's population of humanism or humanity, especially among young people!

Adults and teens turn to 'dumbphones' to cut screen time

By Emma Vardy,

LA Correspondent, BBC News

Tradução e Versão: Fred Borges ( Logo após o texto original em inglês)

Adults and teens concerned about their screen time are turning in their smartphones for “dumber” models.

Buried in the settings of many smartphones is the option to look up how much on average you are staring at your phone per day.

It can bring an uncomfortable realisation, that what was supposed to be a useful piece of technology has become an obsession.

“Social media is built around FOMO (fear of missing out), so I felt like I couldn’t get off it,” 16-year-old Luke Martin, from Canada, told the BBC.

“Instantly I got Instagram and it was a downward spiral.”

Luke is not alone.

According to a study by Harvard University, using social networking sites lights up the same part of the brain that is also triggered when taking an addictive substance. This has raised concerns about phone habits among youth.

In the UK, research by Ofcom estimates that around a quarter of children aged five to seven years old now have their own smartphone.

Links have been shown in some studies between use of social media and a negative effect on mental health - especially in children.

Smartphone ban for kids 'worth considering' - MPs

How can you keep children safe online?

Hundreds of families sue 'harmful' Big Tech firms

Some campaigners want age limits to be introduced for smartphone use. Others, like Luke, are choosing to swap their smartphones for much simpler devices, so-called “dumbphones”.

His new phone only has texts, calls, maps, and a few other limited tools.

“My friends’ usage is like four to five hours I think, and that’s how much mine used to be before I got this,” he said.

“Now mine’s like 20 minutes a day which is really good because I only use it for what I need it for.”

Parents are also turning to dumbphones, not only for their children, but to help themselves be more present for their families.

Lizzy Broughton speaks to reporters

Lizzy Broughton says her son has benefited from a dumbphone

Lizzy Broughton, who has a five-year-old son, recently bought an old-school style Nokia “flip” phone.

“It helped me recalibrate my own habits, I have way more quality time with my son,” she explained.

She says that when it’s time for him to get his own phone, she’ll choose a similarly pared-down model.

“It doesn’t feel like the best idea to just start with a smartphone,” she said. “It’s like we’re handing over the world, like try to figure out how to navigate that.”

These are dumbphones, the low-tech devices on trend

Sales of dumbphones have been increasing in North America. At Dumbwireless in Los Angeles, store-owners Daisy Krigbaum and Will Stults cater to customers looking for low-tech devices.

“We have a lot of parents looking to get their kid that first phone, and they don’t want them drifting off on the internet,” he said.

But giving up the smartphone is easier said than done. Mr Stults said some schools require pupils to have certain apps. And it is difficult to hold the line when children see their friends being given expensive smartphones, said Ms Broughton.

“It’s going to require a community of parents to actually be like, can we do this differently?” she said.

One workaround is a device called “unpluq”, which you tap against the phone to wirelessly block certain apps, like social media.

“Parents can control the smartphone with this tag, and also monitor the usage,” Mr Stults said.

There are several phones that have now been developed particularly for users who want to avoid an addiction to mindless scrolling.

Chris Kaspar founded the company Techless to develop an “intentionally boring” but sleek device that looks much like an iPhone. The latest version is dubbed the “Wisephone II”.

“It has no icons, just words, two colours, and two fonts.” He describes it as “very peaceful, very tranquil”.

It will have some limited third-party tools, such as the taxi application Uber, but no social media.

“We’re asking this question—what’s actually good for us?” Mr Kaspar said.

The Wisephone has very parred down features

The Wisephone has very parred down features

He first developed the phone with his teenage foster daughters in mind and says 25% of their sales are to children, but that it is marketed to adults.

“If you have a phone that’s branded as a kids’ device there’s some shame associated with that. So we made a very adult, sophisticated, Apple-esque, really nice device,” he said.

With revenue from apps and social-media advertisement in the billions of dollars, the big companies have little motivation to encourage different habits, he said.

Meanwhile, Canadian teen Luke says he is planning to stick with his new device, much to the amusement of friends.

“They think it’s pretty weird but at this point I’m like it doesn’t really matter because it’s helped me so much,” he said.

“It’s definitely taken me into a better spot right now.”

Tradução e Versão: Fred Borges

Adultos e adolescentes recorrem a 'dumbphones' para reduzir o tempo de tela.

Por Emma Vardy, Correspondente de Los Angeles, BBC News.

Adultos e adolescentes preocupados com o tempo de tela estão trocando seus smartphones por modelos “mais burros”.

Enterrada nas configurações de muitos smartphones está a opção de verificar quanto, em média, você fica olhando para o telefone por dia. Pode trazer uma constatação desconfortável de que o que deveria ser uma peça útil de tecnologia tornou-se uma obsessão.

“A mídia social é construída em torno do FOMO- (fear of missing out),(medo de perder a conexão), então senti que não conseguiria sair dela”, disse Luke Martin, de 16 anos, do Canadá, à BBC.

Instantaneamente ganhei o Instagram e foi uma espiral descendente.” Lucas não está sozinho. De acordo com um estudo da Universidade de Harvard, o uso de sites de redes sociais ilumina a mesma parte do cérebro que também é acionada quando se toma uma substância viciante. Isso levantou preocupações sobre os hábitos telefônicos entre os jovens.

No Reino Unido, um estudo da Ofcom estima que cerca de um quarto das crianças entre os cinco e os sete anos de idade têm agora o seu próprio smartphone. Em alguns estudos, foram demonstradas ligações entre o uso das redes sociais e um efeito negativo na saúde mental - especialmente nas crianças.

Proibição de smartphones para crianças 'vale a pena considerar', dizem deputados Como você pode manter as crianças seguras online?

Centenas de famílias processam grandes empresas de tecnologia ‘prejudiciais’. Alguns ativistas querem que sejam introduzidos limites de idade para o uso de smartphones. Outros, como Luke, estão optando por trocar seus smartphones por dispositivos muito mais simples, os chamados “dumbphones”. Seu novo telefone possui apenas mensagens de texto, chamadas, mapas e algumas outras ferramentas limitadas. “Acho que o uso dos meus amigos é de quatro a cinco horas, e esse era o tempo que o meu costumava consumir antes de conseguir isso”, disse ele. “Agora o meu dura cerca de 20 minutos por dia, o que é muito bom porque só uso para o que preciso.” Os pais também estão recorrendo aos dumbphones, não apenas para os filhos, mas para se ajudarem a estar mais presentes para as famílias.

Lizzy Broughton diz que seu filho

se beneficiou com um dumbphone. Lizzy Broughton, que tem um filho de cinco anos, comprou recentemente um telefone Nokia “flip” estilo antigo. “Isso me ajudou a recalibrar meus próprios hábitos, tenho muito mais tempo de qualidade com meu filho”, explicou ela. Ela diz que quando chegar a hora de ele comprar seu próprio telefone, ela escolherá um modelo igualmente simples. “Não parece a melhor ideia começar apenas com um smartphone”, disse ela. “É como se estivéssemos entregando o mundo, tentando descobrir como navegar nele.”

Estes são os dumbphones, os dispositivos de baixa tecnologia em tendência.

As vendas de dumbphones têm aumentado na América do Norte. Na Dumbwireless, em Los Angeles, os lojistas Daisy Krigbaum e Will Stults atendem clientes que procuram dispositivos de baixa tecnologia. “Temos muitos pais querendo dar o primeiro telefone para seus filhos e não querem que eles fiquem à deriva na internet”, disse ele. Mas desistir do smartphone é mais fácil falar do que fazer. Stults disse que algumas escolas exigem que os alunos tenham determinados aplicativos. E é difícil manter a linha quando as crianças veem seus amigos recebendo smartphones caros, disse Broughton.

“Vai exigir que uma comunidade de pais realmente pense: podemos fazer isso de forma diferente?” ela disse.

Uma solução alternativa é um dispositivo chamado “unpluq”, que você toca no telefone para bloquear determinados aplicativos sem fio, como mídias sociais. “Os pais podem controlar o smartphone com esta etiqueta e também monitorar o uso”, disse Stults. Existem vários telefones que foram desenvolvidos especialmente para usuários que desejam evitar o vício em rolagem estúpida.

Chris Kaspar fundou a empresa Techless para desenvolver um dispositivo “intencionalmente chato”, mas elegante, que se parece muito com um iPhone. A versão mais recente é apelidada de “Wisephone II”. “Não tem ícones, apenas palavras, duas cores e duas fontes.” Ele o descreve como “muito pacífico, muito tranquilo”. Terá algumas ferramentas limitadas de terceiros, como o aplicativo de táxi Uber, mas nenhuma mídia social. “Estamos fazendo esta pergunta: o que é realmente bom para nós?” disse Kaspar. O Wisephone tem recursos muito reduzidos.

Ele primeiro desenvolveu o telefone pensando em suas filhas adotivas adolescentes e diz que 25% de suas vendas são para crianças, mas que é comercializado para adultos. “Se você tem um telefone com a marca de um dispositivo infantil, há alguma vergonha associada a isso. Então criamos um dispositivo muito adulto, sofisticado, estilo Apple e muito legal”, disse ele. Com receitas provenientes de aplicações e publicidade nas redes sociais na ordem dos milhares de milhões de dólares, as grandes empresas têm pouca motivação para encorajar hábitos diferentes, disse ele. Enquanto isso, o adolescente canadense Luke diz que planeja continuar com seu novo dispositivo, para diversão dos amigos. “Eles acham que é muito estranho, mas neste momento penso que isso realmente não importa, porque me ajudou muito”, disse ele. “Isso definitivamente me levou a uma posição melhor agora.”

A questão que não quer calar é: qual o futuro das Redes Sociais com o recuo tecnológico causado pelo impacto das tendências comportamentais e culturais de preservação do livre arbítrio e democracia da escolha e decisão, no resgate do poder do consumidor consciente e consumerista?

The question that remains unanswered is: what is the future of Social Networks with the technological retreat caused by the impact of behavioral and cultural trends to preserve free will and democracy of choice and decision, in rescuing the power of the conscious and consumerist consumer?

[rogersevans]

Enchanted ll

Summary: You didn’t expect filling in for your colleague would have the most successful man in Boston besotted with you.

 18+ Content Below the Cut, Minors DNI.

masterlist | part one

“Wait.” Came Lizzie’s shriek of annoyance, her jaw set and her eyes narrowed in on you. “That smug, rich, handsome asshole is the reason your suspended?”  

You couldn’t stop the snort that followed, your eyes trained on the glass of gin as you swirled it around. “Yup, but handsome is a stretch.”  

“Oh please, there’s a reason that man is all over the press- and no, it’s not because of his charitable ways.” The blonde spoke, cutting you off before you could even open your mouth. “Men like that, get that sort of reputation from the slew of women they fuck once and leave high and dry come sunrise the next morning.”  

Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention to the TV playing Bride Wars in the background wanting to be done with this conversation, not wanting to give Chris any more attention that he didn’t deserve. It had been two days since he’d gotten you suspended, two days of you stewing away in your apartment and ignoring texts and phone calls until Lizzie turned up on your doorstep with bottles of gin and Chinese take away, forcing her way in.  

Chris had reached out a couple of times, a few obviously ignored texts- the read receipt was a beautiful concept, thank you apple. Lead to missed phone calls. You weren’t going to give in into him. He didn’t get to get you suspended and then turn on the charm. That’s not how the real world worked. Maybe it worked that way for him as he looked down on the world from his Boston penthouse, different women every night.  

Thankfully, his messages had eased off after the second day of being ignored. But you found yourself looking at your phone, waiting for it to ping with another message, waiting for his name to pop up on your lock screen, the small feeling of disappointment that followed when your phone remained silent both shocked and repulsed you. You weren’t the type of women to wait by the phone for a guy. Especially a man like Chris Evans. So, why were you?  

“We should go out.” You suddenly said, throwing your phone across the couch and moving to stand in front of your best friend.  

“What?” Chocking on her beer and snapping her head in your direction. “You never want to go out,” her eyes narrowing in on you. “Like ever.”  

“Well, now I do.” You shrugged, turning on your heels and making a beeline down the hall. “You can borrow something of mine, pretty sure some of your clothes from last time are still in my spare bedroom!” You called from your room.  

“What the fuck.” The blonde mumbled to herself, staring incredulously after you.  

Standing in front of your wardrobe, hands resting firmly on your hips as you perused your possible outfit choices. But your distaste for the club scene had left your wardrobe looking rather bare when it came to ‘night out’ outfits. “On second thought,” scrunching your nose. “We may need to stop by your apartment.”  

“Why? Your frigid bitch style not good enough for you?” Turning on the balls of your feet to find Lizzie now sat on the edge of your bed. “Why do you really want to go out? Is this Chris thing really bothering you that much?”  

Somehow, you always forgot how intuitive Lizzie was. You’d met in freshman year of college on move in week, she had been moved in two days before you arrived at the dorm. 

“Maybe, I don’t know.” A puff of air pushed through your lips, your thumb scratching your brow. “I worked really hard to get where I got, you know? For him to just...” You felt the anger bubbling up inside you again. “He baited me into the conversation and I didn’t see it coming.”  

Lizzie watched as you wrapped your arms around yourself, something you did whenever you felt vulnerable. “Right, if we’re going out, we need to leave now.” Slapping her thighs, she stood from your bed, moving around you and opening your wardrobe and packing an overnight bag. “You can borrow something of mine, but these,” holding up your only pair of heels, black and stiletto like, the bright red heel standing out. “These beauties are coming with us. Drysdale was a lot of things, but he had great taste.”  

It was true, the only good thing to come from your relationship with Ransom Drysdale was the few expensive pieces of clothing or shoes you had littered in your wardrobe. The lavish gifts would appear on your shared bed whenever he’d gone out and cheated on you. Normally, it was a battle for you to even accept a gift, he’d lost count of the number of gifts he had to return because you wouldn’t accept them over the years. It didn’t take long for you to realise that they weren’t ‘I love you’ gifts anymore, more like ‘I’m sorry’ gifts which you had no trouble accepting.  

It didn’t shock you when you came home early from work- the most cliché way to find out. Finding the pompous asshole wrapped up in some red-haired waitress, in your shared bed. You’d known for a while, but without proof you couldn’t get him out of your life.  

Ransom prayed on the fact that you’d met in college, still a virgin and inexperienced when he came barrelling into your life. Who’d want someone like you? Only been touched by one man. I’m the only man that can make you cum like this princess, no one else knows your body better than me. He’d taunt you, until it wormed its way into your brain and refused to leave. Tormenting you.  Lizzie had been waiting- no praying for the moment you came to your senses. She couldn’t have been prouder of you when you called her that night, asking for help to move out. Taking the expensive gifts, he showered you with out of guilt, just to stick the knife in deeper.  

Within the hour you both found yourselves dressed and dolled up, scrambling out the Uber and heading over to the entrance of the club. Where the handsome bouncer greeted Lizzie with a wide smile, nodding his head towards the door and stepping aside to let you both in. “Thanks Ari, you’re a diamond!” Placing a quick kiss to his cheek, she pulled you inside with her.  

“You’re a diamond!” You mimicked, locking your arm with hers.  

“It’s called getting laid. If you tried it once in a while, you’d be surprised what it would get you.”  

“Yeah, yeah.” You mumbled, pulling the hem of your incredibly short dress down slightly when you reached the bar. Suddenly remembering why, you never went out in the first place. Lizzie had given you two choices of an outfit, an oversized, white button up you were convinced was Ari’s no matter how much she denied it. Or this dress that resembled a belt. You had to admit, it accentuated your curves in all the right ways, the deep v cut displayed your cleavage leaving nothing to the imagination.  

“Scar!” Lizzie cheered, signalling to her sister behind the bar. “It also helps when your sister is the bar manager.” Giving you a quick wink before leaning more over the bar when Scarlett approached you both, a rag flung over her shoulder.  

“What’s up squirt? Didn’t know you were coming in tonight.” Even though they were only half sisters, same mother, different fathers. They looked strikingly similar. Scarlett was only four years older than you both, but you always saw her as the cooler older sister. Didn’t go to college and left home at the age of 18 after securing a full-time job. Her relationship with their mother was strained, but rejecting the path she had set out for them both would do that. “I must be high,” her eyes landing on you, a wide grin taking over as she shouted your name. “Is that really you?” Moving her way from behind the bar and holding your shoulders at arm's length, observing you.  

“You never come out!”  

“That’s what I said!” Lizzie chimed in, giggling as she slumped down onto an empty bar stool.  

“Are you dying? Is it terminal?” Scarlett asked with a straight face, her tone lower now. “Is she bribing you? Because I can sort her out for you-”

“Hey!” The other blonde reached over, flicking her sister. “I didn’t bribe her,”

“And I’m not dying, I just fancied coming out.”  

You didn’t miss how both sisters eyed one another suspiciously, silently communicating. “Ok, it’s really creepy when you both do that. I wanted to come out and get drunk with my best friend, hoping her big sister would give us some discounted drinks....” You trailed off, worming your way out of the older blonde’s grip and sitting on the end stool.  

“I won’t say no to discounted alcohol!” Lizzie cheered.

“Of course, you wouldn’t.” Scarlett rolled her eyes, returning behind the bar.  

“You do realise getting the poor girl suspended isn’t going to impress her, right?” Anthony teased, grabbing his glass from the VIP bar and turning to lean his back against it.  

“It did get her attention though.” Chris shrugged, taking a sip of his whiskey, the raw alcohol burning his throat on the way down. The ice in his glass clinking and swirling, creating a small tornado in the centre.  

“Dude,” came Sebatian’s laugh as he appeared behind the bar. “You’re one of the smartest men I know, but fuck me you’re stupid when it comes to women.” Shaking his head whilst Anothny sniggered being his glass.

“Excuse me?” Chris’s brows shot upwards in shock, the music from the club below causing a dull thumping in their ears.  

Chris, Anthony and Sebastian had been friends since they were teenagers, working together at Anthony’s fathers' business. They helped each other find their way in the world they’d found themselves in. The bond they shared was deep rooted and family like. Chris couldn’t trust anyone else with his business or life more than he could trust those two.  

“You literally got the girl fired-”  

“Two weeks suspension.” Chris defended.  

“That’s not the point man.” Anthony shook his head, smirking at the small group of women starting to linger by the entrance of the VIP section.  

“She’s a spitfire to, I’ve read her work. Persistent. Not to mention absolutely stunning.” Seb added, nodding his head at the bouncer to let in some of the women.  

“She is?” Anthony asked, his attention zoning back in on the conversation, suddenly interested.  

Chris watched as his two best friends googled you, your picture coming up in seconds. Anthony’s eyes widened in shock before letting out a low whistle, Sebastian nodding in agreement and sliding his phone into his jacket pocket.  

“What’s your plan here?” Anthony asked, now looking back over to Chris.  

“What do you mean?”  

“Well, you like her.” Sebastian added simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So, what’s your plan?”  

Chris hadn’t thought that far ahead, he honestly didn’t have a plan. He didn’t normally need a plan. Women had always fallen at his feet, always made themselves available for him. He’s never been a ‘relationship’ kind of guy, always busy with something business related or never really respecting women enough to be faithful. But something about you was bugging him, keeping him up at night as his mind often went to you, wanting to know more about you. Even finding himself craving your attention or presence. It wasn’t helping that you were the first women to deny him. Ignore him. His mind went to his last message that was currently unanswered and left on read. It was driving him crazy; he was normally the one that was leaving women on read.  

The loud music thrumming in his ears as he stared at the message he’d sent you hours earlier, his frustration starting to fizz. It wasn’t like you were busy with work, he made sure of that.  

“The longer you stare at that unanswered text, the more fucked off you’re going to feel.” Sebatian teased, resting his arm on the shoulders of a brunette, pulling her against him.  

“He’s right.” Anthony chimed in, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “She’s obviously still pissed at you- hell, I’m surprised she didn’t come to your office that day and hurt you. Why don’t you try speaking to her? You know, like a normal human.”  

“I have.”  

“Really?” Anthony watched as Chris curtly nodded, his gaze shifting to his drink. “Look dude, most girls don’t want the lavish life, don’t want to be bought or controlled. Most women like it when you spend time getting to know them, wooing them.”

Chris snorted, “please, you sound like my mother.”  

“There she is!” Sebastian greeted Scarlett when he noticed her reach the top of the stairs of the VIP section, her usual break area if Seb was in, as she slumped next to him on the couch and letting out a heavy sigh. “How’s my bar looking?”  

“I’m on my break.” She grumbled back, twisting her neck to the left before letting it crack and then doing the same on the right.  

“You do know that’s not the way to speak to your boss, right?”

“How about my best friend? Because he’s a real pain in the ass.” She bit back, flicking her boots on the table in front of her and leaning against the back of the couch.  

Sebestian and Scarlett had met when he was looking for a bar manager. He had been in interviews all day, none of the other candidates sticking out to him. Scarlett came in like a tornado but instead of leaving destruction in her wake, she left profit. Seb had been sold on her the moment her thick Boston accent commented on how making this place look less like a strip club would bump up the profit and intake. Five years later and she was still here and his bar was thriving.  

“Hey Scar,” Anthony greeted the blonde with a wide grin, his voice soft when he spoke, his hand shaking her boot clad feet when he stood from his seat. “Need a drink?”  

“Yeah.”  

Scarlett hadn’t dealt much with the trio over the years, but she came to learn that Sebastian was the ring leader, Anthony was the grounded one and Chris was the wild card. No one in her life knew of her friendship with the group, especially her little sister. The blonde watched as Chris got to his feet and silently made his way over to the banister overlooking the club.  

Anthony returned shortly with her drink, placing the glass of scotch on the table. “He’s grumpy because a girl won’t give him attention.”

“That’s a first.” Scarlett added with a laugh, taking her feet off the table and leaning forward to grab the glass. “Suits.” She stood and made her way over to the brooding billionaire, noticing how his jaw tensed at the sound of his nickname. Knowing it annoyed the shit out of him, it always did. 

“Johansson.” He curtly greeted, his eyes never leaving the sea of people below.

Chris and Scarlett had only ever interacted at work, and once when he needed a date to a fancy gala. But they understood how one another worked, a mutual understanding. She knew if she ever needed help all three of the men would be there in a heartbeat. Scarlett was his first female friend, the first one he had some sort of relationship without an agenda. 

“How’s the charity business going? Still got that polished rep?” She teased, a playful smirk dancing along her lips. 

“Still a bar manager?” He quipped back teasingly, casting a playful look over his shoulder at her. Something short of a playful glint in his eyes.

“No. I just come here to pass the time.” 

“You should’ve taken me up on my offer all those years ago-”

“What? And work for you? I’d rather walk across hot stones, barefoot.” She couldn’t stop the scoff that ripped through her throat, her nose scrunching at the thought. Chris had spent years trying to convince Scarlett to come and work for him, always saying how he needed someone like her on his team. But every time he was met with a snarky comment or a disapproving look, only fuelling his determination more.  

The only other woman who’s said no to him.

“Oh shit.” Her eyes suddenly becoming wide and worried, leaving her glass on the banister.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” He quipped back at her with a smirk, which disappeared as quickly as it arrived when he took in her worried expression.  

“Move suits.” The urgency in her voice wasn’t ignored by Sebastian, his ears practically perking up as he watched his friend move frantically around Chris, shoving her way through the sea of bodies starting to gather.  

“Everything alright?” Chris called after her, his brows frowning in confusion before letting his eyes fall down to the bar, them squinting slightly to try and make out what had the normally hard faced women suddenly worried.  

“Stan, I need you.” Stopping at the entrance of the VIP lounge, whipping her head in the brunette’s direction. “Now.”

It took Anthony a matter of seconds before he followed them both of them down the stairs, as Chris stood by and watched them descend the stairs, still confused as to what just happened. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” The familiar voice sending your blood cold, stilling your movements and setting your jaw in anger. “Fancy seeing you here.” He purred in your ear, his hard chest now pressing against your back.  

“What do you want, Ransom?” Your anger seeping through your words, your eyes scanned over the bar hoping to find Scarlett lingering around but she had gone her break 10 minutes ago and Lizzie had gone to the bathroom but most likely had gotten distracted by Ari on her way there.  

“Just to talk to my best girl- looking for someone?” His soft purr making your skin prickle with goosebumps, tensing at the familiar feel of his touch, something you’d desperately tried to erase from your memory. “I’m right here.” He now whispered against the shell of your ear and your eyes screwing shut in response.

“Missed me? Because I missed you sweetheart, missed everything about you.” The pads of his calloused fingers tracing up and down your arm.  

It was like your body was cemented to the bar stool, weighing you down, your spiteful words stuck in your mouth as they tried to claw their way up your throat. Everyone had their kryptonite, and Ransom Drysdale was yours. He spent your entire relationship breaking you down, piece by piece, bit by bit. Practically singing your biggest insecurities to you daily. Until you were left a shell of your former self.  

You’d told yourself if you were to ever see him again, you’d be strong, that he didn’t have a hold on you anymore. That he didn’t deserve you. Or to see you affected by him.  

Don’t. He’s not worth it. The voice in your head screamed at you, the tears behind your eyes threatening to fall. He’s a piece of shit. Get up and go find Lizzie.

“Let go of me Ransom.” You suddenly bit at him, a snarl shortly following.  

“Oh sweetheart, you don’t want that.” He purred, unaffected by your sudden change in attitude. “I can practically feel your body thrumming.” Suddenly his grip fell to your waist, pulling you from the stool and against his firm chest, one hand holding the back of your neck firmly. Keeping you in place. “You miss me.” A wicked grin putting a pit in your stomach, making you swallow thickly.  

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” His breath fanning over your ear, leaving your skin feeling hot and prickly.  

The derogatory name hit a nerve with you, fuelled that anger you felt two years ago. Before you could think about your next move you were shoving him backwards, the palms of your hands resting against his chest.  

“Someone’s feisty,” he chuckled darkly, a sick smirk dancing across his lips. “I never back down from a challenge. You know me.”

His promise sent a bone chilling shiver down your spine, making you push harder against his chest. The crowds of people surrounding you to consumed with their own fun to recognise the situation, the bar men down the other end of the bar crowding a flock of young women. Your best friend off somewhere within the club, no doubt distracted by Ari and her sister somewhere on her break. The music too loud and drowning out your frantic pleas, which only spurred the brunette on.  

In one swift movement he snatched your wrists, halting your attack. His jaw ticking and eyes turning dark. “Don’t be a fucking tease.”  

“Drysdale.” Instant relief washed over you when you heard the familiar tone of Scarlett’s voice. If there was anyone who hated Ransom as much as you, it was her. She spent your entire relationship trying to get you to leave him, they’d grown up in the same circle and she knew he was bad news. “I thought I told you, you’re banned.”  

“Scarlett,” he drawled out, his smirk never fading and stepping in front of you. “Long time no see.”  

“Leave her alone.” Peering around Ranson you saw her upper lip curl as she spoke, noticing two other bodies lingering behind her.  

“What are you going to do? Get your little boy band to step in?” The words soon died on his tongue when Sebastian took a step forward, his hand falling to his hip were his gun rested, your eyes going wide instantly.  

“Drysdale, right?” The brunette waited until Ransom nodded slowly before continuing. “Linda and Richard’s son.” Ransom’s face falling at the mention of his parents. “You’ve got quiet the reputation here Drysdale.” Sebastian's voice remained calm but the blue in his eyes slowly started to dissipate, the only indication of his fury.  

“What can I say-”

“It's not a good reputation asshole.” Came an unfamiliar voice from behind Sebastian, you watched as he moved around to appear at Scarlett’s side, his brown eyes warm and inviting when they landed on you.  

“I’m just speaking to her, catching up. Right, sweetheart?” Turning to face you, his face stoic and devoid of emotion but his eyes hard and determined.  

“N-No.” You quietly spoke, your mouth suddenly dry like you’d swallowed sand minutes before. You couldn’t stop your eyes flicking over to Sebastian, now stood a foot closer to Ransom, his blue eyes softening once they caught you. “I- He’s making me uncomfortable.” Ignoring the way Ransom’s stare became more intense, his jaw setting and his fists balling at his sides.  

“Say no more.” With a flick of his head two burley men grabbed both arms and were escorting him away, Ransom’s protests could be heard only slightly over the music. Your eyes moved down, trained on the gun still on show, unable to look away.  

“Christ.” Scarlett breathed out, rushing over to you and taking your face into her hands. “You ok? Did he hurt you?” Only being able to nod.  

“You didn’t tell me you knew Sebestian Stan!” You hissed quietly at her, colour slowly returning to your cheeks.  

“That’s what you’re focusing on right now?” Watching at your brow quirked upwards in demand she puffed out a soft sigh. “He’s my boss, this is his bar.”  

“What the fuck?”

“Excuse me,” came his soft like velvet voice that would have any women on their knees, you caught him slowly approaching you both, keeping his distance not wanting to spook you more. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You managed to squeak out, your eyes going wide when he stopped just shy a couple of feet from you.  

“Scarlett, bring her to the VIP bar-”

“Oh no, you don’t have to-”

“Your sister to, tell Ari he’s got the rest of the night off and to meet us up there.”  Even though he cut you off mid-sentence he didn’t do it in a demanding or arrogant way- not like Chris would. No. His voice remained soft and a small smile rested on his plump lips. With a nod of his head towards Scarlett, he turned on the heels of his dress shoes and headed off towards what you assumed to be the VIP section. The other man behind him, who looked a lot like Anthony Mackie, shortly followed, sending an inviting smile your way.

“It’s best not to argue.” Was all Scarlett said, shrugging her shoulders and pulling you off in the direction of the VIP section.

[whisker-biscuit]

The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking

Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.

Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.

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

Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.

He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.

“H’lo?”

“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”

The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.

“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”

“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”

The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.

“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”

Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.

 What happened?

 Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.

“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.

“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”

“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”

“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”

“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”

The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.

Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.

“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.

“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.

“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.

“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”

A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.

“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”

“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”

The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.

Well, up until they were actually caught.

“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.

The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”

“Well, uh –”

“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”

“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”

He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.

“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”

The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.

“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”

Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.

“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”

“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.

“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”

“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”

The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.

“Uh, uh, thank you.”

“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“O-Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

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

No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.

Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.

Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.

It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.

“It was my idea.”

The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.

“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.

“Both.”

He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.

“I don’t believe you.”

Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”

“No! I’m telling all of it.”

“Razpu-”

“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”

“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.

“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”

There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.

“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”

“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”

“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”

“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”

“…Lili –”

 “Raz.”

“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”

The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.

Metaphorically and literally.

Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”

The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.

“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”

Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”

They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.

“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.

Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”

“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”

She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.

“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”

She didn’t respond. He continued.

“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”

The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”

“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”

Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.

Finally, an epiphany.

“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”

The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.

“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”

Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.

“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”

His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.

“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”

The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.

“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.

“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”

Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”

“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”

“Uh-huh.”

Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.

“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”

“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.

“The best dad.”

“Definitely the best dad.”

More silence.

“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”

Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.

“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”

“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”

Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.

“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”

“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”

“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”

The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.

“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.

“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.

“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

They walked out together, hand-in-hand.

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

A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.

I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.

Psychonauts, man.

[misscarolineshelby]

Spanked

Part Two: First Day

Pairing: Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader Words: 1,345 Warning: None…This is only the beginning!

Original Blog: @queenshelby (this is just my backup account as I have been having Tumblr issues)

When you told your friends and roommates about what had happened to you that morning, they couldn’t believe it.

Whilst you were excited to be working for one of the largest enterprises in the UK, they were more intrigued by the fact that you were going to work directly for Thomas Shelby who was a well-known business man and who was quite popular with the ladies across the country.

The 39-year-old had quite a reputation which is what attracted these women. But you decided that you wouldn’t be one of them.

According to your friend, he was the perfect mix between an elegant business owner and a working a class man. He was different to many others out there and, unlike the other men in charge of other big corporations in the UK, he had built his wealth by himself.

Of course, when you read his name on the business card, you remembered reading the rumours in the papers. According to the London Telegraph, he was said to be involved in some illegal businesses as well and it was believed that he had built his empire through drug trafficking and illegal race fixing. But these were just rumours. Thomas Shelby hadn’t served any prison time and was never convicted of any crimes. It was only his brother, Arthur Shelby, who was charged with two murders but never convicted.

He was also involved in politics, having acted as an MP until it became too boring for him. Luckily for him, he maintained connections to other politicians and judges and, miraculously, he had no problems getting licences for any and all of his business operations.

But none of this bothered you much. You saw this job as an opportunity and stepping stone of some sort.

***

Despite your lack of interest in the man himself though, you listened to your friend’s advice when it came to appropriate office attire.

‘You cannot possibly wear this’ your roommate said as she watched you put on a grey coloured suit and a black blouse.

‘That’s what you wear to an office though’ you said somewhat confused while looking into the mirror.

‘Men like something to look at. At least wear a dress and show some legs. You never know, you might even find your prince charming’ your roommate then said with a cheeky smile before disappearing into her room and returning with three dresses for you to choose from.

Of course, she had a point. You had been single for two years and, before that, you had one boyfriend who was just as nerdy as you were. He was your first and your last.

After trying on all three dresses, you chose an elegant knee length black dress but, when you put on some stockings and shoes, your roommate shook her head again.

‘Oh god no. Please let me style you’ your roommate insisted.

‘No, I don’t have time’ you huffed out, looking at your watch.

‘I will style you up for your first day and then I will call you a taxi. I will use my father’s credit card. He won’t even notice’ your roommate said and, after some convincing, you reluctantly agreed.

Your roommate quickly found some suspenders and stockings in her draws and made you put them on. Then, she looked for some shoes, but none of the ones she owned would fit you.

Eventually, she found a pair of black high heels in your other roommate’s wardrobe who, luckily, had the same shoe size as you.

Finally, she applied your make up and straightened your hair. It looked perfect and she was certainly impressed with her own work.

‘Holy shit, I am fucking awesome’ your roommate then said and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘I look good’ you said somewhat surprised as you looked into the large mirror in your bedroom.

‘You fucking do. Go and get yourself a suitor’ she teased you and you shook your head.

‘No, I am there to work, not to flirt. Despite, I don’t even know how to flirt’ you admitted and your roommate couldn’t help but giggle.

***

When you arrived at the offices of Shelby Company Limited, you were greeted by a tall dark-haired woman who showed you to your new office.

It was near the reception area and you were surprised by the layout of the building. Everything was made of glass and the floors looked like marble. It was incredible.

Lizzie explained to you how things worked around the office and told you that you would be reporting to a man by the name of Michael Grey.

‘I thought I will be reporting to Mr Shelby’ you said somewhat surprised, causing her to laugh.

‘Sweetheart, please don’t flatter yourself. You are here on your merit but no one new reports directly to Mr Shelby apart from me and Michael Grey. He only likes to deal with people he knows and trusts’ Lizzie said before handing you your office swipe card and a stack of files for you to look at it.

Just as you sat down and Lizzie took a seat right next to you, talking you through the accounting software the company uses, you saw Tommy enter the reception area.

He was accompanied by a tall blonde woman who was wearing expensive clothes and was carrying a Louis Vuitton handbag.

‘Who is this?’ you asked curiously, causing Lizzie to look up from the computer.

‘Elaine Sutton. Apparently, she is the flavour of the month. He likes attractive women who don’t talk much, which makes her perfect’ Lizzie chuckled, seemingly annoyed by the woman.

‘How did you become Mr Shelby’s personal assistant?’ you then asked and Lizzie chuckled again.

‘I’ve known Thomas since he was eighteen. I used to be married to his brother, John Shelby, before he passed away’ Lizzie said and you were surprised by her directness and openness about it.

‘Any more questions or can we get back to work now?’ she then said and you apologised to her immediately.

***

Throughout the day, you developed an investment scheme to lower the tax rates the company was otherwise required to pay in the next financial year. This was what you had mentioned to Tommy at the café and you assumed that it was what he wanted you to do when Lizzie handed you the relevant files.

As you were working through them one by one, you also became to notice that Tommy himself was quite the talking point between the women in the office.

His blue eyes, his expensive suits and what tie he was wearing was on today’s agenda in the lunchroom and you couldn’t help but be amused.

Then, all of a sudden, there was dead silence. The room went quiet and no one said a word as the man himself entered the lunch room.

‘Can I get you anything Mr Shelby?’ one of the service employees asked nervously.

‘Can you tell me where the cable ties are kept, please?’ he said in his low gruffy voice and, just when the employee nodded and told him that she would fetch some for him, he approached you.

‘Office attire suits you much better than coffee-stained clothes Y/N’ he observed, causing you to swallow harshly, smile and nod.

‘Thank you for the opportunity, Mr Shelby’ you stammered out in response just as the service clerk returned with some cable ties for Tommy and he walked off.

‘He knows your name’ a short brunette woman observed. ‘I’ve been working here for a year and he hasn’t even noticed me’ she then said before offering you a cup of tea which you gladly accepted.

‘Well, I spilled hot coffee onto him yesterday at the Coffee Bean Café across the road which probably made stick’ you said somewhat embarrassed, causing the woman to laugh before introducing herself to you.

Her name was Emily and she was also working in the business advisory department. Just like you, she was smart and nerdy and you knew that you would be getting along well.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian  @queenyshelby ​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  @midnightmystic​

[enthusiasticharry]

Second Best

summary: you and Harry meet at a party, but he seems to take more interest in your sister than in you, and you won't be Second Best. 

author’s note: bonjour mes chéris!! this is the first instalment of hannah being the history/french student she is and merging all three of her worlds and creating her own little fictional one. this is based off of lousia may alcott’s little women (one of may favourite books ever) but with my own little twist on it. this is set in the 1860′s during the civil war but i haven't made it too historical at all.  i have done all of the translations myself and even though i'm semi-fluent i still make mistakes so if you spot any let me know. this is so long so i'll shut up now, thanks for all the support bye!! <3

word count: 16k of good old fashioned marriage talk (there’s a lot of it, its all they spoke about tbf??), fluff, angst and a lil’ smut. there is marriage and children at the end (woo, exciting!) not proofread because my eyes are already asleep. 

masterlist   |    speak to me about second best here!

“Stand up straight, don’t slouch. You have a tendency to do so, and these people will not tolerate it.” You sister, Lizzie, says as she pushes her arm between yours, walking you towards the fancy house in front of the two of you, “Whatever you do, don’t speak about your art at all. Nobody can stop you once you’ve started. Do speak if you’re spoken too, and if you’re asked to dance, dance.”

You shake your head, “But I don’t want to dance.”

“You will dance.” Lizzie says again, squeezing your arm slightly, “You may find yourself a husband if you act proper enough.”

“I shouldn’t have to act proper just to find a husband, Lizzie.” You scoff, shaking your head, “If they don’t love me, oil paints and all, then I don’t want them. I don’t think I’ll ever find a husband.”

“Oh shush with you.” She says, tapping your arm slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it did cause your lips to part in shock, “How lovely would it be if father returned and you were married! It would make his life.”

“I think he’d have a heart attack.” You mutter, removing your arm from around hers as you stand outside of the door you were going to walk through in mere minutes, “I’m his little girl, you are also, Lizzie. If we were both to be married I’d think we’d kill him off.”

“You shouldn’t joke about that.”

“I’m not joking. I truly believe that would happen.” You deadpan.

She scoffs and slips her arm through yours this time, using her free hand to ring the bell. A man wearing one of the fanciest suits you’ve ever seen in your life opens the door, allowing the two of you to slip through. You help Lizzie remove her shawl, whilst she does the same to you. The man hangs them up amongst the array of other jackets. You lips part in shock at the sight of the house you were in, the first thing your eyes falling upon being the large staircase, with paintings littering the walls. For once, you were speechless, unable to control your excitement and want to gawk at the art upon the wall.

“Lizzie!” You gasp, gripping her arm tightly, “Look at the—”

“Don’t you dare say paintings!”

“Lizzie!” You groan again, pulling her arm so that she’s looking your direction, “Look at them.”

“I’m looking at them.” She lifts her eyes to look at the wall you were looking at, where the pieces hung with such grace and elegance, “They don’t seem too spectacular.”

A shocked gasp escapes your lips, “Take that back, Lizzie! They are beautiful!

“If you say so.”

She removes you from your awe of the paintings and pulls you towards the ballroom. There’s people everywhere, the most amount of people you think you’ve ever seen in your life. You watch as they mingle with glasses of Champagne in their hands, the expensive material of their dresses sparkling in the light from the chandelier. Men stood wooing the women before them, flicking their suit jackets and inviting them to dance. The dresses the women were wearing were something out of dreams. You weren’t the biggest fan of dresses, in fact, you lived in trousers around the house, but you couldn’t help feeling embarrassed about your tattered dress. You’ve had the dress for a year or so, and the holes and rips and anything else you’d manage to do to the material could be seen in the light even if you’d fixed it.

“Lizzie!” The call comes from somebody who you don’t recognise, but Elizabeth certainly did and before the syllables of her name could escape your lips, she’s gone. You watch as your sisters whisked away with the crowd, leaving you stood there with no clue as to what to do.

Gripping the material of your dress, you slip yourself to stand by one of the doorways, away from the hustle and bustle of everyone in the room, but close enough for you to be able to watch. Lizzie stands in the middle, just as she always is, with a group of people around her. She was always the centre of attention, the one that everyone loved — you included. You were only a few years younger than her, but you were the only siblings each of you had, so you were close. You had your disagreements, that was certain, but you always came back stronger. You weren’t shocked when you noticed her spinning around holding some man’s hand, dancing away with a smile on her face that always made your insides happy. If she was happy, you were happy.

“Not one for dancing?” You eyes almost bulge out of your head as you hear a voice next to you, a male one at that.

“Oh, um, not really.” You laugh, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I’m not a very good dancer. I don’t really like dancing, to be completely honest.”

“Everyone loves dancing.” The man says, and you’re able to get a good look at him. A black suit, with a crisp-white shirt sits upon his torso. His hair was a fluffy brown, a chestnut that you found yourself in awe of. His green eyes ones of masterpieces, better than any art you could ever see upon any wall in any gallery, “I believe you are just lying.”

“I am not.” You shake you head, “My sister told me that if anyone asked me to dance I must say yes, but I have decided that I mustn’t. I have two left feet and anyone who is to ever dance with me will regret it, I know of it.”

“I highly doubt that.” He shakes his head, sipping from the glass he had in his hand, “Your sister shouldn’t force you do dance either.”

“Oh.” You shake your head, “Lizzie isn’t forcing me to dance, she just wants the best for me. Dancing is how people meet.”

“It’s how we met.” He says after a few seconds.

You let out a small chuckle, running your tongue over your lips slightly, “Sir, pardon me, but I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry.” He smiles, “M’names Harry.”

“Oh!” You exclaim again, “Harry Styles! You’ve just moved in next door with your father! Mother saw you the other day.”

“You must be—”

“—YN YLN.” You hold your hand out for him to shake, immediately shaking your head and pulling it back, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles, Lizzie forgot to remind me to not shake hands. It’s not very ladylike, I know.”

“It’s perfectly okay.” He holds his hand out, and you bite your lip and shake it, “And please don’t call me Mr. Styles. I’m not my father. Call me Harry.”

“Harry.” The name slips from your lips, “I think Lizzie would die if she saw me talking to you.”

“If I may, would you show me Lizzie?” He asks and you nod.

You nod and turn back to the crowd, fluttering your eyes across all of the people in hopes to spot your sister. She was wearing red, the colour which suited her the most in your opinion, so she wasn’t too hard to spot. She was dancing in the middle of the room with a man with blonde hair, a suit similar to the one that Harry was wearing upon his body. She looked happy, and the sight caused a smile to flutter across your lips.

“She’s in the middle there.” You say, nodding your head in the girls direction, “The one in the red dress.”

You turn to look at Harry and once his eyes fall upon your sister, you can tell that the whole world stops around him. His lips part, his eyes widen and if you look closely you can see the reflection of the red dress in his eyes. You’re unsure how long he’s staring at her, but you’re staring at him for the exact same amount of time.

“It’s a. . .” He fumbles with his words after a few seconds, lifting his hands to scratch the back of his neck, “It’s a beautiful dress.”

“It is.” You agree, “Mother let her save up her allowance to buy the material. I should’ve done the same but I spent mine on paints.”

“You paint?” His raises his eyebrow, finally looking back at you.

You nod, “I love to.”

“Then you have every right to spend your money on paints.” He says, and you try to hide the heat that falls upon your cheeks, “You dress is perfectly swell

“It’s not beautiful though.”

“It’s swell, YN.” He reminds you again, “I’m sure you’ll get a beautiful dress at some point.” 

Then you’ve lost him. You’re not surprised, though. Everyone prefers Lizzie to you, it’s just how it’s always been. You watch the back of him as he walks towards your sister, taking the world in his stride behind him as he does so. You watch as she courtesy’s for the man she has just danced with, and before Lizzie can go anywhere, she’s scooped up to dance with Harry. Maybe if you had bought the Emerald material your mother had wanted you to, Harry would be dancing with you right now instead of Lizzie. Maybe if you hadn’t been so against dancing in the first place he might’ve asked you to dance.

No, you wouldn’t stoop to that level for a man of all people. If Harry didn’t want to dance with you, ‘swell dress’ and all then you weren’t going to change yourself, no matter how much you wanted to, for a mere man.

“YN!” Lizzie delightful glee of your name came after their dance had died down. Lizzie came bouncing towards you, a just as bashful Harry following behind her, “Harry has offered to take us home in his carriage!”

“Now?” You ask, your heart hopeful that they’d both say yes.

Lizzie turns to look at Harry who shrugs his shoulders slightly, “If the two of you want to, we can.”

“Oh no.” Lizzie places her hand upon his shoulder, “We couldn’t dare take you away from the festivities. We will wait until you’re finished.”

“I’m ready to leave myself, Miss YLN.” He says to Lizzie, the same heat falling upon her cheeks as you had felt earlier.

“Please. Call me Lizzie.”

“Okay, Lizzie.” He grins, “I’ll just go fetch the carriage, see you by the front door?”

Lizzie nods, and you give him a small smile and watch as he walks towards the door. You try not to stare as he shrugs on his coat but it’s hard to, and you know that Lizzie is feeling the exact same way that you are.

“Oh YN.” She gushes, turning to you and placing her hands upon your shoulder, “He’s a perfect gentlemen.”

“Is that so?” You ask, walking towards the door also to fetch your shawl, shrugging it on your shoulders.

“It is.” She copies your actions with her own, “He asked to dance, saying that you were the one to introduce me to him. I can’t thank you enough, dear sister.” 

“It’s no issue.” You shake off, turning away from her so that she can’t see the fall in your face, “He seemed to take a fancy to you once I’d pointed you out from the crowd.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes.” You nod your head, turning to look at her. Her shawl was scraggly thrown upon her body, probably from how distracted she was, and you lean forward to sort it for her whilst she gleams over your shoulder at nothing. You wonder if this is what it was like to meet your husband, butterflies and distractions from that moment on. It hadn’t happened yet for you, and seeing the way Lizzie was acting, you decided that you didn’t really want it happen, “Couldn’t take his eyes off you, sweet one.”

She squeals and wraps her arms around you, squeezing you slightly. You were happy that she was happy, and you wouldn’t take that away from her.

The door opened, revealing a blushed faced Harry due to the cold outside, “Ready?”

“YN!” Your mother calls from the floor below you, “Can you please come and set the table?” 

You groan and remove your paintbrush from your canvas. The day prior you had been given a small sum of money from your Aunt Jemima after visiting and immediately gone to the store in town to pick up some new canvases. It was heaven to receive little amounts of money like these and you almost always spent it on canvases so you wouldn’t have to use paper, which was the cheaper alternative that you had to buy. 

“I’m a little busy!” You call back, moving so that you can shout out of your door, “Can you ask Lizzie?” 

“She isn’t here!” Your mother calls back and you groan. You place your palette down on the table beside you, as well as your brushes in the pot of water you had brought up with you. You wipe your hands on your apron before pulling it over your head and off your body. You drape it over your bed carefully, being careful to not get anything on the linen.

You bounce down the steps, tucking your hair that falls down in ringlets by the side of your face behind your ear. Entering the kitchen, you place a kiss to your mother’s cheek. She stands over the side, chopping some vegetables that she’s going to bring to boil for your dinner. She greets you with a smile and continues chopping. 

“Is Lizzie with Harry?” You ask, placing the cutlery beside each mat on the table, noticing that there were four like there had started to be now.

“Of course she is.” Your mother shakes her head, “They’re always somewhere causing trouble.” 

You had to suppress your grin. Lizzie had been the good girl of the family for so long, always doing everything that was asked of her and your were the one who tended to ignore requests so that you could continue doing whatever you wanted to. Since Lizzie had met Harry, that had been completely flipped upside down. You were the good girl of the family who did everything that was asked of you, and Lizzie was the one always getting out of doing things by sneaking off with Harry. 

Since the two had met just over two months ago, they had been inseparable. When the two of you weren’t being taught how to read and write by your mother, Lizzie was always somewhere doing something with Harry. The other week he had taken her to the theatre and words couldn’t explain how jealous you were. You and Lizzie did everything together, and you always had done, but now you felt second best to someone who she hardly knew. You knew a part of you was jealous, but you would never admit that. What you did admit to yourself was that you were lonely and missing your sister. 

“Is Harry staying for supper?” You ask, filling up the water jug to be placed upon the table. 

“I’m guessing so.” Your mother says, moving to bend down by the fire to check on the meat, “It’s ready. Will you go get them? I think they’re by the river.” 

You nod your head, moving to the front door to retrieve your shawl and boots. They were always at the river, as though it was there place. You couldn’t understand for the life of you why they’d chosen that place out of all, especially during the winter months. Snow was just around the corner and the two of them decided to spend their days moments away from catching a cold by the river. 

The walk itself was five or so minutes through the woods behind your house, watching your step for fallen branches and wild animals. Lizzie was usually the one who brought you to the lake, so it was a given that you hadn’t been in a while. 

Once the trees start to disperse, you stand in the middle of the opening to try and spot them. You do, quite quickly in fact. They’re stood by the water, picking up stones every now and then to skim across it, rippling the stillness with their movements. Skimming stones felt like a normal thing to see people doing, but once you watch Lizzie throw her arms around his neck, you feel like a little portion of you crumbles inside. You hadn’t seen them like this before, and you never ever wanted to see them like that again. 

“Lizzie!” You call, snapping them out of their trance so that they turn to look at you. Lizzie immediately removes her arms from around Harry’s neck.

“Is there something wrong?” 

“No.” You shake your head, “Mother just asked me to collect the two of you for supper.” 

The two nod and move around where they were stood to collect their things but you don’t wait for them. Instead, you turn around and walk back towards the house. You can hear them laughing but you refuse to look back, because you know that you won’t be able to handle it. The temperature drops dramatically as you walk back, and you pull your shawl closer to you to help preserve some heat. You had a suspicion that at some point this evening it would start snowing, which you weren’t too unhappy about. It would give you time to finish the painting you started today, and hopefully create some more. 

They aren’t close behind you as you reach the door, so you enter and immediately walk towards the table which is looking a lot fuller than it had been. 

“Are they coming?” Your mother asks and you nod, sitting down at the table. They enter a few minutes later, Harry greeting your mother with a kiss on the cheek. 

The three join you at the table, Harry next to you, Lizzie next to him and your mother sat next to the spare seat — where your father usually sat. You all join hands in saying grace, your hand feeling completely natural sat in his. The way his encompassed yours was something that will be etched into your brain for the rest of the day, and for the days after that. It isn’t a light hold either, it’s a prominent one, and his fingers squeeze yours tightly. You drop your eyes to your plate, unable to look up at him because you’re unsure of what his features may hold. 

You don’t say anything over the dinner, you just listen to their words. It’s all about Harry’s time in London, like it usually was, and the rest about what the two had been up too. Your mother asks the dreaded question, and yet again, you ignore any word that comes out of their mouths.

It was inevitable at this point that Harry and Lizzie, at some point, were going to marry each other. You were surprised that Harry hadn’t proposed yet, if you were honest. If soulmates were a thing, no matter how much it pained you to believe, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were the example. You wouldn’t ever say anything to anyone about this, but you do think a part of you wished that was you in her place. You wished that you were the one that he smiled at, held hands with, kissed upon the cheek as she left. 

After the dinner had finished, you had returned up to your room and lit your candle, leaning against the window frame to peer outside. They stood by the gate, Harry’s hand holding hers and her hand holding is. They looked as though they truly loved each other and what you expected to be a measly kiss on the cheek like it usually was, wasn’t that at all. A little part of you died inside when you saw him lean forward and place a kiss upon her lips, his hand lifting up to rest against her cheek. You managed to draw yourself away from the window after you’d watched for a while or so, slipping under your sheets and into your linen, turning so that you’re facing the wall. A few minutes or so later, you hear the door open and the rustling of clothes and you suspect Lizzie gets ready for bed. You try not cry but you can already feel the tears starting to fall down your face.

“YN.” You hear the soft whisper of your voice over the crackle of the candle that was still on in the room, “Are you awake?” 

“Yes.” You manage out through the hesitation within your voice. 

After a few seconds, and a slight giggles escaping her lips, “He kissed me, YN.” 

“Oh.” You try not to sound like you’re upset, “Are you going to marry him?” 

“He hasn’t asked me.” She’s quick to say, “But I think he might.” 

A month or so later, you’re stood in front of a carriage, one that sits Lizzie inside on her way to Etiquette Lessons. Every young lady in the village had to go to them when they reached a certain age to make sure that they are properly prepared for how to look after their husbands when the day comes. You weren’t quite at the age yet, but Lizzie was. 

You had given her a hug, and watched your mother kiss her cheeks and hug her, but you now found yourself watching something that you had seen so many times now. Harry and Lizzie stood by the door of the open carriage, her hands in his as they whisper and chuckle at whatever they’re talking about. You can’t hear what they say, but you can tell it’s emotional from the tears that are running down his face. 

You mother wraps her arm around your shoulder, squeezing your shoulder. You wondered if she knew. You hadn’t said anything to her, but she always seemed to know what was going on in your life even if you hadn’t told her anything. 

Harry helped Lizzie into the carriage, and closed the door for her before coming to stand next to you. Your eyes fluttered up to look at him for a second, but he didn’t even look anywhere near you, he was watching the carriage as it left. The love of his life was leaving in it, so I’m not surprised he did so. 

“Mother.” You say quickly once the carriage had turn off the path, “Can I return and paint?” 

“Of course you can.” She places a hand on one of your cheeks and a kiss to the other, “Take Harry with you. He’ll need the company.” 

You turn to look at him, and he just shrugs, so you nod. You return back to the house with Harry trailing behind you, looking like a lost puppy. The way his eyes seemed to droop, as well as his hair, all hinted to the fact that he was actually upset that she was leaving. He follows you into the room, and sits on the end of Lizzie’s bed whilst you pulled your paints out of your drawer. 

“I’ve only been in here once before.” He says after a few seconds, running his hand over the linen of her sheets, “You were out. Something about Aunt Jemima.” 

“Oh.” You start to face place some of your paints upon your palette, “I read to her, sometimes, and she pays me so I can buy paints. I’m hoping that one day she’ll take me to Europe with her.” 

“Europe?” He asks, “You want to go?” 

“More than anything.” You sigh, swirling your brush in the green paint you had just placed upon your palette, “More specifically I’m hoping she takes me France. I’ll be able properly practice my art then.” 

“Can you not do that here?” 

You hesitate for a second, hovering your brush over the canvas slightly, “I’ll be better suited if I go there. People will care more about my work.” 

“It’s beautiful work.” He says after a few seconds, “I don’t know how France would change that.” 

You think for a second about how to explain this to him, “Think of it like Etiquette school. The girls go and return as better wives than if they hadn’t gone. They would’ve been good wives, but not as good without the school.” 

“I don’t think I understand.” 

“My art is good without France, just like the wives are without Etiquette class, but they are better with it. My art will be better with France.” 

You turn around to see him nod his head, “I think I understand.” 

“A part of it is also me wanting to leave this town.” You say, turning back around so that you can place your paintbrush back upon your canvas. 

“I cannot fault you for that.” He says, and you turn to him again, only to see that he’s laid back upon the bed, a hand over his eyes, “Sometimes I wish I could leave.” 

“Why don’t you?” You ask, “If one of us had the beings necessary to leave it would be you?” 

“Beings necessary?” He pushes himself up on his elbow so that he’s looking directly at you, “And what would be those necessary beings?” 

“Money, for one.” You say, moving so that you’re sat on your bed, looking straight at him, “Carriages. Knowledge of the world. The furthest I’ve ever gone is the neighbouring town and that was to drop something off for my mother.” 

“Why don’t you leave then?” 

You chuckle, raising your eyebrows, “I plan on it.” 

“Ice Skating.” Harry says as he walks through your bedroom door, holding two pairs of ice skates in your hands. 

“Harry!” You exclaim, placing your hand upon your chest at the shocked sight of him, “I could’ve been indecent and you would have never known!”

“But you aren’t.” He tips his head to the side, “Ice Skating. We’re going ice skating. The lake has frozen over and it’s perfect.” 

“Are we now?” You ask, placing your palette down upon the table next to your easel, “Is Mr. Styles bored of his mansion.” 

“I’m going to loose my mind.” He drops down on your sisters bed, the skates clattering to the floor as he does so, “Please come ice skating with me.” 

“Harry.” You sigh, pulling your painting apron off, “I don’t even know how to ice skate.” 

“Then I will teach you.” He says. 

After a few seconds of contemplation, you nod your head, “I’ll do it if you let me paint you.” 

“Deal.” 

Over the past two weeks you and Harry had grown close. Not as close as Harry and your sister, but close enough for you to class him as one of your good friends. The two of you had started to do everything together, similarly to him and Lizzie but with some barriers. You hugged each other but you certainly weren’t as touchy deeply as they were with each other. You couldn’t do it to your sister, so you avoided doing anything that would be seen as wrong.

 You did feel sorry for Harry. He had told you that he had sent three letters to Lizzie during this time and she hadn’t even replied to one. You weren’t quite sure why, but that was quite despicable on her part. The poor man was making himself sick with how much he was worrying about her, and you were the one who had seen it, and been the one to try and get him out of it. One of the things that you had begged him to let you do was paint him, but he kept rejecting your proposal. Instead, he told you that he liked to enjoy watching you paint rather than having you paint him. 

You were excited to say the least that he had agreed to let you paint him, and you certainly weren’t going to miss that opportunity. 

“Slow down.” You call to Harry, who’s around ten strides a head of you as you waddle your way with your dress in your hands through the snow, “I can’t keep up with you.” 

“Walk faster then.” He says, turning to look at you with a grin across his face. 

You groan and try to pick up the pace, nearly slipping a few times on some particularly icy parts of the ground but you make it to the lake in once piece. Harry passes you the skates he had picked up for you and you thank him for passing them to you. You kick your shoes off and fasten the skates, just as he does the same. 

“Stay away from the middle.” He says, “It’s thinner than the edge.” 

“I think you’re forgetting something.” You say as you try to stable yourself on the blades, “I have not idea what I’m doing.” 

“It’s like walking, but on ice.” He deadpans and you resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I’ll let you hold my hand if you want.” 

He holds his hand out and without really thinking you place your hand in his, allowing him to guide you onto the ice. His hand was cold, but so was yours, but having his in yours sent little flames across the entirety of your body. 

At first you were unsteady on your feet, and you’re sure that you could’ve nearly broke Harry’s hand with how tightly you were squeezing it. He chuckled and made sure that you were continuously upright. After five minutes or so, you found the swing of what you were doing, and managed to move forward without any wobbles.

“I’m letting go of you.” 

“No!” You exclaim, gripping his hand tighter so that he wouldn’t be able to pull away from you, “I’ll fall.” 

“You won’t fall.” He chuckles, trying to pull his hand away again. “I will.” You shake your head, “Please, don’t.” 

“You’re not going to fall.” 

“I am.” 

“You’re not.” 

He somehow manages to release his hand from yours and skate backwards away from you, leaving you on your own. You hold your hands out, straightening them as though that’s going to help balance you out. With the little momentum you had left, you moved forward slightly until you came to a halt, where you pick up one of your feet to push forward and move forward. You manage to do it, without falling which surprises you. 

“Harry!” You exclaimed, beaming at him, “I’m doing it.” 

“I told you that you would.” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, “Shall we?” 

“We shall.” You smile, and the two of you continue off across the ice. 

Everything seems to be going well and good until you manage to catch your blade in a slit in the ice and go tumbling forward, going over on your ankle as you do so. You drop to the ground with a thud, a throbbing immediately falling upon your ankle. 

“Harry. . .” His name escapes your lips through the the hiss of pain you let out. 

“Are you injured?” He’s quick to ask, skating over to you as quickly as he possible could. 

��My ankle.” You say, “I think I’ve sprained it.” 

“You probably have.” He’s quick to say, “Lift up slightly, I’ll carry you back home.” 

You shake your head, “You don’t have to do that.”  

“What are you going to?” He laughs, “Crawl?” 

“I might.” 

“You wouldn’t make it home for Christmas.” He bends down, “Come here.” 

You lift your hand up and wrap your hands around his neck, allowing him to place his hands underneath your knees. He looks at you with a small smile on his face and skates back to the edge of the lake, placing you on the floor for a second so that you could both remove your skates. 

“How did you get so good at skating?” You ask, returning to your prior position his arms. 

“Home.” He says, “In England. It’s cold year round there, and the lakes are often frozen. My mother taught me.” 

“You don’t talk about you mother.” 

“She died when I was young.” He says, not looking at you the way that he had been, “I don’t remember a lot about her.” 

“I’m sorry.” You say, “I didn’t mean to pry.” 

“You didn’t.” He shakes his head, “You were merely curious.” 

You drop your eyes to the white around the two of you, “My mother says that my curiosity may get me in trouble one of these days.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” He chuckles, “But that’s something that makes you, you.” 

Without really thinking, you say the next few words, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t me.” 

He shakes his head, “You don’t mean that.” 

“I do.” You nod your head, “There’s nothing special about me. I’m no Lizzie YLN.” 

“No.” He shakes his head, “You aren’t Lizzie, but you are YN. This world doesn’t need anymore Lizzie’s in it.” 

“I thought maybe you’d have a thousands Lizzie’s if you could.” 

“I wouldn’t need a thousand if I could have the one.” 

“You do have you.” 

He shakes his head, “I told her before she went that there was no need for Etiquette classes because to be my wife all I wanted was her. Lizzie wanted to go to get the best experience she possibly could.” 

“You respected that?” 

He looks directly over you again, “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“We all know what actually happens at Etiquette classes, Harry.” 

Harry only nods his head once, not saying anything else. He still carries you home, one of his arms rested comfortable under his knee whilst the other rests behind your back. You hoped you hadn’t offended him, but there was no way for you to know. 

Etiquette classes, as a whole, were to teach young women the proper ways of being a wife during the day, and through the night thy would attend balls and such. The balls were so the women could hopefully meet eligible, rich men who they were hopefully going to marry. If you were already meant to marry someone else, it didn’t seem like a right thing to go to this place where the people were always after one thing. 

As your feelings grew for Harry, you wondered whether Lizzie’s had diminished and that was why she decided to go to the classes. You certainly shouldn’t want that, but you couldn’t lie and say that a part of you did.

“Mrs. YLN?” You mother comes running towards the two of you at Harry’s call of her name, “We’ve had a little accident.” 

“What have you done now?” 

“I went over on my ankle.” You deadpan. 

“Harry will you get me some ice?” He nodded and moved towards the kitchen whilst you mother freed your ankle and rested it upon her knee. 

He came back with ice wrapped in a cloth and passed it to your mother who placed it upon your ankle. 

“Thank you for bringing her home, Harry.” 

“It’s no problem.” 

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” 

“I shouldn’t.” He shakes his head, “Thank you for the offer, though. But I should be returning home.” 

“Pass my love onto your father.” 

“I will.” 

He throws you once last look, one that you can’t quite pinpoint the emotion of. After a few seconds he drops his eyes, and walks out of the door without looking back. You turn to look at your mother, who’s got a skeptical look upon her face as she looks at you. 

“What is it?” 

“Does he know?” 

“Does he know what?” 

A small smile crosses her lips, “That you love him.” 

You lips part in shock before you clamp them shut, “I. . . I feel no such thing.” 

“You had just lied to me, child.” She shakes her head, “I know love when I see it.” 

“Mother.” You shake your head, “He loves Lizzie.” 

“I know.” She places her hand upon your cheek, “You’ll be the one to pick up the pieces when she breaks his heart.” 

Lizzie was due to return home today, on Christmas Eve of all days, and the house certainly looked as though it was ready for her.

You, your mother and Harry had spent quite a while this year decorating the house to be as Christmassy as possible. The thing that you still think about to this day was jumping on Harry’s back so he could lift you up to reach the star, your mother smiling as she watched the two of you. 

The carriage returned at around midday. You were stood next to Harry at the end of the garden, with you mother next to him. The carriage came to a halt and the driver was the one to open the door, Lizzie immediately tumbling out and throwing her arms around your mother who had taken a few steps forward. 

She didn’t look like Lizzie, in your opinion. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun, the dress upon her body looking more expensive than the ones that she had gone with. The material was a blushed pink colour, with fancy detailing upon the corset and a puffy skirt that was one of the biggest that you had ever seen in your life. Lizzie looks happy to see your mother to say the least, but you’re quite surprised when she moves to you next instead of Harry. 

“Hello!” She throws her arms around your shoulder, placing her head on your shoulder whilst you placed yours on hers, the material of her fancy coat hitting your cheek. You hadn’t seen anything quite like it before, never mind felt anything quite like it before, “I’ve missed you so much. How are you?” 

“Well, thank you.” You pull away. clearing your throat and wiping your hands upon your skirt slightly, “The same old. It’s you who I should be asking that question to.” 

She smiles and pulls away, holding her small bag close to herself as she looks at the person stood next to you. Harry looks as though he’s about to cry, and so does Lizzie if you’re being brutally honest. The two of them needed to be alone, and you understood that. When your mother motioned you to follow her back into the house, you didn’t hesitate with your movements, following her back into the house. 

“I feel as though dinner might be late tonight.” You mother says as she closes the door behind you, fumbling to take off her scarf, “I feel like they might be out there for a while. Why don’t you go up and finish your painting?” 

You nod your head, not wanting to say anything. You remove your outdoor gear and race up the stairs. You know you shouldn’t, but you immediately run to the window to see whether you can see the two of them, but you’re unable to. 

Lizzie looked like a different person, but she sounded like Lizzie when she opened her mouth. The clothes that she wore might have changed but she was still your sister, the same sister who had the man you loved following her around like a lost puppy. Lizzie was the same Lizzie as she always had been, and that meant that she probably did feel the same way about Harry as she did before she left. There was a selfish streak in you that wished that wasn’t the case, and she had completely forgot about her feelings for Harry and had met someone else, but until you properly had a conversation with the girl, you couldn’t be too sure that was the case. You couldn’t be sure either that if that had happened, Harry would want you in that way. 

You found yourself unable to paint, so you dropped down upon your bed and sat with your back against the wall, watching the outside world as your thoughts danced around within your head. You found the thoughts spiralling through your head that you were still a young woman at the end of the day, one who could have a line of men wanting to marry you but you instead found yourself second best to your sister, and that shouldn’t be happening. No matter how much you loved the man, or had grown to be accustomed to his company, being second best wasn’t something that you had set your heart on being, and you wouldn’t be for him.

You were the first YLN he had met, yet he had chosen your sister first and he was going to lay in that bed now. 

“YN!” You mother called from downstairs, “They’re here.” 

Christmas Eve dinner, to say the least, was one that you’d never forget. Harry looked as though he was either going to burst out crying or kill someone at any moment, Lizzie looked exhausted and your mother and yourself were sat in the middle of the two of you trying to make ends meet of what had happened. Harry’s eyes caught yours once, but he was quick to flutter them away and take another forkful of vegetables and place it in his mouth. 

“Lizzie, you haven’t told YN and I anything about your time away.” Your mother started, probably not the best topic of conversation but one that would split up the silence hopefully, “Did you enjoy yourself?” 

“I did.” She wipes her mouth upon her napkin, “I had an amazing time. Met some amazing people. Actually, there is one person that I’ve invited for you to meet for the new year.” 

“You have?” Your mother raises her eyebrow, “How wonderful.” 

“His name is Theodore.” 

That’s all it takes for Harry’s fork to clatter to the plate, his chair screech across the floor and his body to stand up. 

“I’m, uh, truly sorry Mrs. YLN.” He says, “The meal was lovely but I’m not feeling very well so I think it’s best that I go home.” 

“Are you alright?” 

“I will be.” He nods his head, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck, “So sorry again, have an amazing Christmas.” 

“You too, Harry.” 

Once the doors closed, Lizzie’s the next person to drop her cutlery and sulk off upstairs. The slamming of the bedroom door shakes the whole house. You place another bit of potato into your mouth and slowly chew whilst looking at your mother. 

She sighs, “Will you go check on your sister for me?” 

“But—”

“You’ll get to see him later, don’t worry.” She says, “I’m going to plate him and his father some food. God knows they won’t eat without it, and you can take it over for me.” 

You nod your head, taking a sip from your glass of water before standing up and making your way upstairs. You cam hear Lizzie’s cries before you open the door, and you know that its because of what had obviously happened before the two of them had come to lunch. You push the door open, to see her laid on her bed face down, her head deep within her pillow. You push the door closed behind you and back up until your back is directly placed upon the solid wood. 

“Are you engaged to him?” You say, looking down at your shoes so that you don’t have to make eye contact with her. 

You can hear the bed creek beneath her as she moves, but you still don’t look up, “To who?” 

“To Theodore.” 

“No.” You lift your eyes up just as she shakes her head, “I’m not.” 

“But you want to be.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

You scoff and shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, “You forget that I’m your sister, Lizzie. I know you better than you know yourself.” 

After a few seconds, she speaks again, “He’s going to propose.” 

“He is?” You take a few steps forward until you’re sat upon your bed, directly across from her, “Why, Lizzie?” 

“We’re in love.” She quickly says, her eyes bulging out the way that they do when she starts to get upset, “When you’re in love, you get married YN.” 

“I thought you were in love with Harry.” 

“I love Harry.” She says, shaking her head, “But I’m not in love with him. I love him as a best friend.” 

“He loves you.” 

“I know.” She shakes her head, “I just didn’t love him the way I love Theodore. He’s just so kind, and so gentle and he makes me feel things that I just haven’t felt before.” 

The way that she stands up immediately makes your mind immediately fall to a place that you know isn’t where it should be. Your eyes widen and she looks at you the exact way that you know that what you thought is right. 

“Lizzie.” You voice comes out as a whisper, and you shake your head, “You didn’t.” 

“I love him, YN.” She shakes her head, “And he loves me.” 

“We always said we’d save that until marriage.” You shake your head, “You told me that’s what you have to do.” 

She sits down on the bed next to you, reaching so that her hands are placed upon both of your shoulders, “And you do. Promise me you will, YN.” 

“I will.” You quickly say, “I promise, I will.” 

“Good.” She sighs, dropping her hands from your shoulders, “You will not end up like me, I won’t let you.” 

“How have you ended up?” 

She looks at you with tears in her eyes, “I think I’m pregnant, YN.” 

You were holding a basket of food that your mother had collated for Harry and his father. You had knocked upon the door once and now you were stood, waiting for someone to open the door and let you in from the cold. The temperature had certainly dropped since you had been outside earlier, but you weren’t surprised at that fact. 

“Miss. YLN.” Harry’s father opens the door. You’ve only ever met him once, and from what Harry has told you, he’s quite a cold man, “May I ask why you’re here?” 

“Uh, my mother sent you and Harry some food over.” You say, holding up the basket within your hands, “I just came to deliver it.” 

“Please.” He says, “Come in.” 

You step through the threshold of the house, entering one that was three times the size of your own but just as empty as yours. 

“I’ll take that to the kitchen for you.” He says, holding his hands out so you can place the basket within them, “H is upstairs, in the library. Third door on the left.”  

“Thank you.” 

The stairs themselves were probably bigger than your entire house, and as you ran your hand across the wood of the banister you couldn’t believe how expensive it felt beneath your fingers. You followed Mr. Styles’ instruction and walked along the grand hallway until you found the third door on the left. It was slightly ajar, so you placed your hand upon the wood and push it open, the door creaking as you did so. 

Your mouth drops open at the sight of the room in front of you. When Mr. Styles said Library you thought it may have been a small room with bookshelves in it, but it wasn’t, it was a full library at the most. It was full of the most books you’ve ever seen anywhere, floor to ceiling bookshelves. You couldn’t help your want to run your fingers across every single cover. 

You spot Harry sat at the window, his knees bent and a book placed open upon them. You cross your hands in front of you, taking a few steps towards Harry. The sound of your shoes against the wooden floor notifies Harry that you’re there, and he lifts his eyes to look at you. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, closing the book that he had open. 

You take a few more steps towards him, sitting at the opposite side of windowsill to him, “I should be asking you that question.” 

He chuckles, lifting his leg up again so that it’s on the windowsill, “I’m okay.” 

“I don’t believe that.” You shake your head, coping him so your feet are up also and you’re facing him, “Tell me truthfully. How are you?” 

He shakes his head, dropping his eyes down to his knees, “She doesn’t want to marry me.” 

“You asked?” 

“Today.” He nods, looking back at you again, “I had a ring.” 

After a few seconds you whisper, “Can I see it?” 

“See what?” 

“The ring.” 

He opens his jacket and fumbles around in the inside pocket, bringing out a small blue velvet box which he throws towards you. You catch it, nearly dropping it but you manage to keep it in your hands. You raise your eyebrow at him and he offers a small smile, one that you knew wasn’t the most truthful of how he’s feeling.

You open the box and see a beautiful ring in the box. The ring itself was silver, but the thing that drew your and probably Harry to it was the gem. It looked to be diamond, not a large one at that but one that was a lovely sized. The light from the window caused the diamond to glimmer slightly, a gasp escaping from your lips.

“Harry.” You shake your head, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “It’s beautiful.” 

“I thought so too.” He says, running his thumb across his bottom lip before shrugging his shoulders, “Lizzie didn’t think so.” 

“It’s not because of you, Harry.” You quickly say, “Nothing to do with you.” 

“It must’ve been, YN.” He says, “You’re sister doesn’t want to marry me. Me! Not anyone else.” 

“She can’t marry you, Harry.” You say, the tears starting to collect in your eyes, “I don’t know whether if situations were different she would marry you, but in this situation it isn’t your fault. I can promise you that.” 

You watch a tear fall down is cheek, “Has she met someone else?” 

You look away, pursing your lips and closing your eyes to try and stop the tears from falling down your cheeks, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“Is it Theodore? Is she engaged to him?” 

“She will be.” You say, standing up and moving so that you’re in front of him, placing your hand upon his knee, “I’m so sorry, Harry.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“She’s my sister.” 

“You’re not in charge of her.” 

You reach forward and place your hand upon his cheek, using your thumb to delicately wipe the next year that falls out of his eye. His tilts his head slightly so that it’s nicely rested within your hand, and you smile at him, which his returns. 

“Did she ever love me?” 

“She did.” You say, nodding your head, “She loves you. She’s just not in love with you.” 

“That doesn’t make it any easier.”

You shake your head, “I don’t think anything will at this point. You just need to wait, time will heal. I’ll be here for you.” 

“I think.” He says, dropping his knees so that he can move closer to you, “I think you might be able to.” 

“Whatever you need, H.” You say.

He moves closer, you can feel him closer to you, but you certainly hadn’t expected for him to place his lips upon yours. The kiss at first in gentle, his lips pressed against yours so gently that at the start you couldn’t quite feel him upon you. Then it’s more urgent, with his hand placed upon your cheek, his lips moving against yours at a quick pace. 

“H.” You whisper, pulling away slightly as he removes his lips from yours, using them to dance down your cheek, to your jaw and then resting against the skin of your neck. 

He removed his hand from your cheek and hooking it underneath your thigh so he can manoeuvre you to be on his lap.

This is the first time you’ve ever kissed a boy, and you can’t believe that the boy of all people is Harry Styles. You hadn’t been this close to anyone before, straddled across his lap with your knees each side of his waist, your skirt bunched up at your waist. The second you were comfortable, his lips attached to your again, his hands rested upon the small of your back. A feeling brewed within you, causing your hips to involuntary buck towards his. You felt him smile against your lips, and that was when you snapped out of the daze that you were in.

Without really thinking, you pulled away and clambered off of his lap. He looked flushed as you pulled away, his hair a little messy and his lips red from the kissing. 

“No.” You hold your hand out at him, shaking your head, “You can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” He said, standing up and taking a few steps towards you. 

“Because. . . because you just can’t.” You shake your head, lifting your hands to run through your hair. 

“I thought.” He looks at you quizzically, “I thought that’s what you wanted.” 

“Maybe I did, a little bit.” You say, shaking your head, “But you didn’t want it to be me. You wanted it to be Lizzie.” 

“No.” He shakes his head, holding his hand out as if to touch yours, “I didn’t want that.” 

“You did, I know you Harry, and you did.” You sniffle slightly, shaking your head, “I’m not Lizzie and I’ll never be Lizzie, and I’ve accepted that. You’ll never love me like you love Lizzie, and I know that. But, Harry, I won’t be second best. I don’t deserve to be second best.” 

“You aren’t second best, YN!” 

You can’t help but let out a small sob at his words, “I am, Harry. From the first day that we met each other, Lizzie came first. She was the one who you couldn’t bore your eyes away from, not me. I don’t think I had a full conversation with you until Lizzie left for her classes.” 

“That’s not true, YN.” He shakes his head, “I swear to you, it isn’t.” 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” You take a few steps back, “I won’t be second best.” 

With that you turn away, leaving the house and leaving Harry. You couldn’t help the tears that fell as you walked across to your house. 

You had made the decision that day that you weren’t to stay in America, that you were going to leave and you knew that Aunt Jemima was the person you knew would be able to help you with that.

Your Aunt Jemima was getting older, but before she died she wanted to go to Europe on last time, more specifically France. She had asked you years ago to be her companion on the trip, and you had agreed, but that was the last time you’d ever spoken to her about it. On Christmas day, you had been the one to bring the idea back up in conversation, dropping in little hints until Aunt Jemima picked up what you were saying. She had been the one to say that in the new year you were going and that you had to be ready to leave on January second with no complaints, not that you had any anywhere. 

When Aunt Jemima’s carriage came, you said your farewell’s to your mother and you sister, and Theodore who had proposed to your sister the day prior — and left. As you sat in the carriage, you couldn’t help but look at Harry’s house, and you weren’t shocked to see him at the window watching your every move. You didn’t look away from the window until you could no longer see the house, when you turned to look straight in front of your, your gloved hands resting upon your knee. 

“Forget him.” Aunt Jemima says, sighing slightly and shaking her head, “He isn’t right for you.” 

“I have no idea what you are on about.” You shake your head, looking out of the small carriage window so that you don’t have to look at your Aunt. 

“That Styles boy.” She says, and you immediately snap your eyes towards her, “Don’t think I don’t know about the two of you.” 

“There isn’t anything to know.” You shake your head at her. 

“There obviously is.” She says, “Or you wouldn’t be sulking the way that you are.” 

“I’m not sulking.” 

“I haven’t brought a liar with me have I ?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at you.

“You haven’t.” She shakes her head, “I am sulking, I’m sorry.” 

“Apology accepted.” She says, pursing her lips, “Are you going to tell me about him, then?” 

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“You’re about to cry, my dear.” She flutters her eyes to you slightly, “I could sense your heartbreak from a mile away. He’s the reason you wanted to come, isn’t he?” 

“I wanted to come.” You say, messing with your fingers that sat on your lap, “He just. . . gave me a reason to finally do it.” 

“I think he’s the idiot in this situation.” She says after a few seconds and your lips part in shock, before you clamp them back together, “He’s the one who got involved with you and your sister. I wonder if he can even get out of bed.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Well. First of all your sister broke his heart by not marrying him and marrying that other man, I’ve already forgotten his name.” She shakes her head, “Then you broke his heart by doing whatever you did when you went to go see him on Christmas Eve and you’ve been depressed ever since you left.” 

“Who told you that?” 

“Who do you think?” Aunt Jemima clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “My daughter told me. Wouldn’t stop crying saying that you’re leaving the love of your life and her other daughters pregnant by some pretentious nobody.” 

You run your hand over your forehead, scrunching your face at the fact that everyone knew, “My mother knows too much.” 

“Your mother just knows you.” Aunt Jemima shakes her head, “At least you haven’t ruined your life before it’s even begun, with a child of all things.” 

“You’re just saying that because you never had children.” 

“Why would I want an offspring of myself and some other man?”

“It’s about love, Aunt Jemima.” You can tell that you’re about to cry, so again you turn your head, “When you love someone, that’s something to bring that love into a being.” 

“I just don’t see why.” She says, curling up her nose, “But then again, that’s why I’m seventy, unmarried and childless. Don’t think about the Styles boy too much. You’re going to a different country for heavens sake, think of all of the people that you’ll meet whilst you’re there. You’ll forget him soon, my dear, and he’ll forget you. That’s what we’ll hope for anyway.” 

The tears do start to fall now, in quick streams down down your cheeks. You couldn’t stop them. Aunt Jemima, no matter how much you despised her sometimes, she certainly knew what she was talking about. You turned your head so that you were looking away from your aunt, looking out of the window and trying your hardest not to let any sobs fall out of your lips.

You did love Harry and if he had stopped your from getting into the carriage, your probably would. If he had asked to marry you, you probably would have said yes without any hesitation but at the same time you also felt as though you were second best, and that wasn’t a place that you ever thought you’d be.

No matter how much you loved him, and yearned to be with him, you knew for the sake of your sanity and for the sake of staying as a strong independent woman. You were taught from being young from your mother that no matter how many people try to say that all you were worth is more than just being the wife of some rich man. Your mother also said that you had a talent and that you had to use it. 

France was going to be the place that you were going to use your talents, and be a better person for doing so. 

Four Years Later

“Pierre.” You say, smiling at the man as he held his hand out to you, “Puis-je vous demander ce que vous faites?” May I ask what you’re doing? 

“Je demande à la plus belle fille de la pièce de danser.” You can’t help the blush that falls across your cheeks. You nod your head and slip your hand into his, standing up and following him into the middle of the dance floor. I’m asking the most beautiful girl in the room to dance. 

The music changes around them to one of the most popular songs in Paris to dance to. He lifts his arm up, just as you do to his, and start the movements in the same way that everyone else in the room had.

You had arrived in France with Aunt Jemima four years ago, fresh faced after the journey and ready to start your new life there.  At first it took a while for you to get used to the new life that you now lived. Aunt Jemima’s French house, if it was even possible, was bigger that her house back home with more nooks and crannies to explore but more importantly, a bigger garden that you could paint every corner of. The main thing that you focused on during the first few months of your arrival was settling in and learning the language which you knew would be hard, but it was something that you needed to do. 

Pierre was the person who had helped you do that. 

Aunt Jemima had hired him to be your French tutor. She said that he was one of the best for you, and that he certainly was. You learnt the basics within the first few months until you were able to finally communicate with the people around you in their native language. At first, you despised Pierre and his pretentious way of making you feel small, but here you were, fours years later, dancing with him and waiting for his proposal at some point. 

Aunt Jemima would be turning within her grave if she knew you were planning to marry Pierre. Even though she hired him when you first arrived to teach you, but she found him incompetent to do anything else. She could tell that you were falling for him, and told you multiple times to not settle for him but you were ignoring her. 

If you listened to every one who your Aunt Jemima told you to not settle for, you’d never marry at all. 

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” He asks, in English this time, his accent seeping through with every word that he spoke. 

“Plans?” You raise your eyebrow, “To paint, yes, but I suppose I can clear my schedule.” 

After learning the French language, that was when you had started your painting classes. You started taking everything in, listening to every single word the teacher said to you until you were good enough to start on your own. The first time one of your pieces was shown in an exhibit, people loved it, and you found yourself creating more and more works and creating more and more links with people around. 

“Do.” He says, nodding his head, “Je veux t’emmener quelque part. Quelque part spécial.” I want to take you somewhere. Somewhere special.

You bite your lip, nodding your head whilst trying to suppress the large smile that’s ready to cross your entire face. 

Pierre was a hopeless romantic, always showering you in large gestures that caused your heart to flutter within your chest. He hadn’t kissed you, and even though you knew that you knew deep down that you shouldn’t compare it, you found yourself not feeling the way that you did the last time you found yourself with a man. 

At twenty-three you were late to get married, and if you ever wanted kids you would have to do so quicker than anything you had ever done in your life because you knew that your days were going to start become numbered. 

“What time should I be ready?” 

“I’ll pick you up at eleven.” 

The song ends, your courtesy and he bows and that’s when you walk back towards the table you were sat at, picking up your glass of Champagne and taking a sip. 

“YN.” You stop drinking immediately, nearly choking on the liquid that you had already started to sip. You know that voice anywhere, etched into your brain from when you were just a mere eighteen year old with a heart twice the size of the one you had now, “As I live and breathe.” 

You turn around, immediately seeing a man that you had left years ago stood in front of you. He looked exactly the same as when you knew him all those years ago, except his features were a tad harder and his hair curler that it was before if it was even possible which you weren’t too sure about. 

“Harry.” You swallow the lump in your throat, placing your glass down on the table and turning so that you were facing him, “It’s been a while.” 

“It certainly has.” He says, lifting his own glass to his lips, “You look good. Happy.” 

“I am.” You nod your head. You look at him, his eyes emptier that you had ever seen them before, not even when Lizzie refused to marry him, “I wish I could say the same for you, but. . .” 

“I look exhausted.” 

“You do.” You say, watching as his lips curled up into a smile as do yours, “How are you? Genuinely.” 

“I’m. . .” 

“Ma chérie.” You feel an arm slip around your waist, rest upon the small of it as he stands next to you, “Qui est-ce?” My darling. Who is this? 

“Ah.” You brush a piece of your hair that had fallen out of place away from your face, “Pierre, this is Harry. Harry this is Pierre.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows, lifting the glass to his lips to drink the rest of it. As you watch, it doesn’t seem to even hits the sides with how quickly he drinks it. 

“Bonjour.” Pierre holds his hand out to Harry, “Comment allez vous?”

Harry looks at Pierre’s hand but he doesn’t shake it, and that’s when you lift your fingers to run against your forehead, “Are you two, marié?” Married.

“No.” You shake your head, stepping to the side slightly so that Pierre’s hand isn’t upon your waist anymore, “We are. . .” 

“Courting.” Pierre’s quick to interject, “I think that’s what to call it.” 

You watch as Harry’s eyebrows raise, and without saying anything to the two of you, he turns around and mutters, “I need another drink.” 

As he walks away, you can see the slight stagger in his walk, one that many intoxicated people hold and you know that him being not himself treads deeper than just seeing you there today. 

“YN.” Pierre places a hand upon your shoulder, “How do you know that man?” 

“He’s someone from home.” You say, watching as Harry drinks another full glass of Champagne where he’s staggered off to, “He’s an old friend.” 

He leans down until you can feel his breath at your ear, “Just a friend.” 

You nod, leaning into him as he places a kiss to your neck, “Bien.” Good.

Since Pierre wasn’t picking you up until eleven, you decide that you have the time to at least start your next painting. In the garden of your Aunts house that you had inherited, you had built a gazebo with the money that you had made from selling your art pieces to exhibits that overlooked the garden and the pond from the four different directions that it had around it. 

You had decided that the swans that swum in the pond were looking particularly delightful today and you decide that is the direction that you want to start your painting. You set up your easel and your canvas, as well as your paints that you brought on a palette and start figuring out the dimensions of the painting and what you wanted it to look like. 

You hold up your paintbrush, closing one of your eyes as you move it from portrait to landscape and back again. 

“You always were a perfectionist.” The paintbrush in your hand clatters you the ground as it slips through your fingers, due to you jumping. You weren’t expecting anyone to be here, and you certainly weren’t expecting to hear his voice. 

“And you always had a tendency to shock people.” He laughs, his dress shoes hitting the decking with loud pats.

“My apologies.” He says, slipping one of his hands into the pocket of his trousers, taking another step closer to you, “I didn’t mean to shock you, love.” 

You place your palette down, brushing your hands off slightly on your apron. You’d usually wear your comfortable clothes to paint in, the attire usually not even being a skirt but often trousers, but because you were meeting Pierre later, you knew that you had to dress up. It wasn’t the fanciest dress you owned, but the light blue material complimented your features in a way that you just couldn’t resist when you saw it in the shop. 

“Yes you did.” You lips curl up into a smile, “You forget that I know you Harry, even after all these years.” 

“Lots of things can change in four years, YN.” 

“You haven’t.” 

“You haven’t, either.” He smiles.

You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and take a step closer to him, clearing your throat slightly as you do so, “I want to apologise for last night. Pierre can be a little. . .” 

“Intrusive.” Harry leans against the pillar nearest to him and you nod, knowing that is exactly what he is. 

“I’m very sorry. I would have loved to have caught up with you.” 

“I probably wouldn’t have been in the best frame of mind to do so.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “I was drunk, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“I could.” 

“Now.” He lifts his hand up and motions to the garden around you, “Are you going to tell me what I’ve missed in the last four years?” 

“Uh.” You move so you’re stood next to him, leant against the barrier, “I moved with Aunt Jemima. This was her house but she died a year ago, if I remember correctly. She left me the house in her will, and I decided that I wanted to stay.” 

“Have you been at home at all during the last four years?” 

You nod your head, “I went home when Lizzie got married, that was when I met Anna for the first time. Then I went back for Aunt Jemima’s funeral because she decided she didn’t want to be buried here.” 

“I must have missed you.” He says, “I spent a lot of the last four years in England with my grandparents.” 

“Lizzie told me.” You say, “She said that she did invite you to the wedding but your father explained that you were in England.” 

He nods his head, “I left a few months after you. I think my father was fed up of my moping.” 

It shouldn’t have hurt you, but his words did. Your chest squeezed slightly at his words. Even though you knew you were doing what you were doing to benefit yourself, you couldn’t lie and say that you hadn’t missed him. You had lost a friend when you left, as well as your first love. 

“Are you married?” You ask, not really knowing why the words escape from your lips in the way that they do. 

He shakes his head, holding his hand up to reveal his completely ring free hand, “Nope. I can’t really say that I’ve been looking.” 

“I’m sure you’ve had opportunities.” You say, “You’re the perfect gentlemen, Harry. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had women queuing to marry you.” 

He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “People have tried but I haven’t been interested.” 

“Why not?” 

“Some may say that I’m still hung up on somebody.” His eyes flutter away from yours, and you take it as the opportunity to look down at your hands, “But that doesn’t matter. What about you and Mr. Intrusive.” 

You chuckle, lifting your eyes up to look at his, “He was my French language teacher. I didn’t like him, despised him to be fair but here were are a few years later and I think he’s going to propose to me later today.” 

“Do you want to marry him?” 

If you were asked this question but anybody else, you probably would have immediately said yes and that was enough for you to know that you should marry him. But seeing Harry stood there, the way that he is, waiting for you to answer what should be one of the easiest questions ever, reminds you that this may have gotten a lot more confusing now with Harry’s reappearance. 

“I. . .” You hesitate and drop your eyes down to the ground again, “I think so.” 

“You think?” He says, “I can’t say that I believe that you do if you only think that you want to marry him.” 

“I do.” You say, quickly. 

Harry stands up and takes a few steps towards the opposite end of the gazebo, “Do you love him?” 

This answer, so it should be another one, was easy to answer, “No.” 

“Then why are you marrying him.” 

“I’m twenty-three, Harry.” You say, your heels tapping the wood as you move to stand next to him, looking at the pond in front of you, “I’m certainly not getting any younger. If I returned home to mother and father without a husband and children I believe they would disown me.” 

“They wouldn’t.” He shakes his head, “They love you too much.” 

“I’ve had three letters from them asking about grandchildren.” You deadpan, looking at him with a stoic look on their face. 

“I’m sure they wouldn’t want to marry someone who you don’t love.” He says.

“If I don’t marry Pierre, who will I marry?” 

After a few seconds, the smallest whispers escapes his lips, “You could marry me.” 

The whole world seems to slow down around you, and you turn to look at him. He’s already looking at you, with those green eyes that you became so accustomed to all those years ago. You knew each other in all for three months, but you spent every second of every day with each other when Lizzie was away, and it certainly showed with how close you became. Marrying Harry could be the thing that you need, have always needed. You haven’t been as happy as you were when you were back him with him in a long time. 

“Harry.” You say, the words coming out in a small whisper, “You can’t mean that.” 

“I do.” He says, quickly to say the least, “I haven’t been more sure about anything in my life before.” 

“Harry—”

“Madame.” One of the groundskeepers say, walking towards the two of you, “Monsieur Perney est là.” Mr. Perney is here. 

“Merci, Alfred.” You clear your throat to try and mask the uncertainty in your voice, “Ça ne prendra qu’un seconde.” Thank you, Alfred. I will only be a second. 

The man nods and walks away, and you turn back to look at Harry, who has the same look on his face as you do on yours. There’s a level of defeat between the two of you. 

“I need to, um, go meet with Pierre.” You say, hands gripping the material of your dress. 

“Is that a no?” He takes a step towards you. 

You sigh, “It’s a, I have to think about it.” 

He nods, “When will you know? This is probably a good time to tell you that I’m leaving tomorrow.” 

That changed everything. It wasn’t as though now you had a few days to think through and make your decision, you had to make it quickly before he goes. 

“Tomorrow?” 

He nods, “Father’s ill. Paris was my last hooray before I go back home to be an adult.” 

You take a few moments to think, “Will you be able to return back here this evening?” 

“For you? Of course.” He says as though he doesn’t even have to think about it. 

You nod your head and take a few steps towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Goodbye Harry.” 

“I’ll see you later, love.” 

“C’est une belle journée.” Pierre says as the two of you walk side by side around a park, the spring heat light upon your skin as you do so. It’s a beautiful day. 

“It is.” You say, not being able to pull your eyes away from the ground below you.

You knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this at all, that it wasn’t fair to Pierre, but all you could think about was Harry. You couldn’t get the look of his face out of your head as you kissed his cheek and walked away, as though he felt like that was it between the two of you. You were still unsure of the decision that you were going to make, but once you found yourself stood at the top of some steps, looking out at the park below, you knew that you were to make your decision sooner of later. 

“Is something bothering you?” 

“No.” You shake your head, finally lifting your eyes to look at his, “Everything is swell, thank you.” 

“Good.” He takes a step closer so that his fingers are brushing yours, “YN?” 

“Yes?” 

“We’ve known each other for a long time.” He says, and the two of you turn so that you’re facing each other, his hands gripping yours, “A very long time, and I was wondering whether I could ask you something?” 

“We have.” You know what the question is before the words have left his lips, and you’re already beginning to prepare yourself for what you’re going to hear the next time he open his lips, “And you can.” 

He clears his throat and fumbles within his inside pocket, drawing out what you know is a ring box. He lets go of your hand which he was still holding with his free one and drops down to his knee, using his other hand to open the small box. 

“YN YLN.” He sighs, “Ma chérie. Will you marry me?” 

The same feeling that you felt before overcomes you, when the whole world around you seems to be moving in slow motion. He looks so happy, his cheeks lifting in a wide grin that you can’t seem to shake from your sight. You can’t even bring yourself to look at the ring he had chosen for you, because it was at that time, seeing him on his knee, that you know what your answer is. 

“I’m so sorry, Pierre.” You slip your bottom lip between your teeth, “I don’t think I can.” 

“What?” His whole face drops, and guilt starts to wash over you. He immediately stands up, looking at you with wide eyes, “No?” 

You shake your head, “I’m so sorry, Pierre.” 

“I thought that you wanted to marry me.” He shakes his head, “Comment ai je pu être si stupide?” How could I have been so stupid?

“You haven’t. I promise you, Pierre.” You reach your hand forward to touch his arm, but he moves away from you, not wanting you to touch him you suppose, “I did want to marry you.” 

“What has changed?” You look at him with sad eyes, tears threatening to spill and you watch the realisation flutter across his features, “He has.” 

You drop your head, lifting your hand to wipe away the tears that had started to spill, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Who is he?” His features switch to angry ones next, and his voice deepens and it shocks you to say the least, “You have never mentioned him and now you will not marry me because of him?” 

“He’s an old friend from hime, like I said.” You repeat your words from the party last night, “I haven’t seen him since I moved here.” 

“Do you love him?” The words are quick to leave his lips and you once again drop your head, in shame if you are completely honest, “Do you? I want to hear you say it?” 

“I do.” His hostile tone scared you into answering, “I always have.” 

“Did you ever love me?” 

You shake your head, the little movement causing him to throw you one of the worst looks you’ve ever seen in your life and stalk away from you. Tears stream down your face, and you know that you probably look the worst you’ve ever looked in your life at this given moment but you couldn’t care less. You thought that you’d feel worse than you do, but you you feel more relieved than anything. You feel bad that you’ve had to break his heart, but the idea of going back home with Harry, seeing your family and saying that he is the man that you’re going to marry was enough for your heart to burst with excitement. 

In your opinion, you couldn’t return home quick enough. The second you return to the house you’re fluttering around as quickly as possible, packing all the belongings that you’d need immediately when you returned but you knew that you could get the rest of your belongings shipped in at a later date. 

The evening rolled around quicker that you had imagined it would, but you supposed time went quickly when you’re packing to go across the world with the love of your life. When you hear the knock at your door, you race to open it, not caring what people think because all you want is to see him. 

You throw the door open, and there he is, stood in the exact same suit that you’d seen him in earlier. He did look tireder then he did earlier, but if you had spent the day worrying you probably would’ve looked worse than he did. 

“Come in.” You open the door wider, so that he can step in, “Please.” 

He takes a few seconds to look around at the entrance way to the house, his lips parting at the sheer size of it as you did when you first arrived. Aunt Jemima was an odd woman, you couldn’t lie, but she certainly knew how to pick a lovely house. You’d probably sell it now that you were going back to America. 

He looked around for a while before he noticed your pile of belongings in the corner, all packed away and ready to leave. 

His eyes meet yours and he looks as though he’s going to cry at any given moment, “Really?” 

You nod your head, “I want to marry you, Harry. Always have.” 

He takes two steps forward and places his lips on yours, his hands falling to your cheeks. It sent you back to four years ago, stood in the library after you’d just kissed him. You couldn’t believe that he was back with you, kissing your lips in the way that you had yearned for him too for so many years. 

He pulls away and rests his head upon yours with a sigh, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Ever since that day. I should’ve done more.” 

“It was my fault.” You thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, “I shouldn’t have left. I should have sulked for a while but gone back to you. I missed you so terribly.” 

“I know why you did it.” He says, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I shouldn’t have proposed to your sister when it was you who made me happy. I knew that I shouldn’t have the second I said it, and I’m sorry for that.” 

“We’ll start a fresh.” You whisper, resting your forehead upon his, “Forget everything that happened four years ago and start fresh. I love you, Harry. I always have.” 

“I love you too.” 

You lean forward and place your lips on his again, his hands resting comfortably upon your waist. It felt so familiar for you to be in his arms, his lips upon yours. He was the only person you had ever kissed, and now he’d be the only person that you’d ever kiss, and you certainly weren’t complaining about that. 

“You may now kiss the bride!” 

Harry smiles at you, and you beam up at him before the two of you lean forward and kiss each other. Cheers and applause erupt around the two of you, as well as confetti and flowers being thrown across the two of you as you walk down the aisle. 

You had arrived a few months ago from Paris, and immediately thrown into trying to nurse Harry’s father back to health, which didn’t go to plan. It was hard on Harry, but he had you and that was the most important thing to him. His Father gave you his blessing for the marriage, saying that it was the best thing he’d heard in a while. The funeral was a few weeks later, and the two of you decided to have the wedding two months afterwards.

The two of you were moving into Harry’s house, across the road from the house that your mother and father still lived in. You had so many plans for what you wanted to do to with the place, seeing as though it was way too big for the two of you to live in on your own. 

It was your wedding night, and you were walking up towards the front door of the house when you felt Harry’s arm slipping under your thighs. You squeal as he picks you up, wrapping your arms around Harry’s neck. Giggling, you lean forward and place a kiss to his cheek, causing the dimples to show within his cheeks. 

“I love you, husband.” You say, smiling as he places you down in the entry way. 

“I love you too.” He leans forward and places a kiss to your lips, “Wife.” 

It was as though the atmosphere within the room changed the second he said that word. His hands found your hips, resting on the material of your dress. You took a step backwards, causing you to press your back against the inside of the door, your lips immediately attacked by his. Your hips involuntarily buck up to Harry’s, causing a groan to escape from his lips. After a few seconds, he pulls away, kissing down your neck. 

“Harry.” You whisper, feeling a moan ready to tumble from your lips at the feeling of his teeth grazing your neck, “Take me upstairs.” 

“Are you sure?” You nod your head and he’s quick to pick you up again, this time carrying you over his shoulder. You squeal and grip his shoulders to steady yourself, “Better give my wife what she wants.”

Once you were up the stairs safely, he placed you down and connected your lips again. The first thing you did once your feet touched the ground again, you gripped the edge of his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, listening to the material tumble to the ground and drop. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” You mumble against his lips and he hums, allowing you to unbutton his shirt and shrugging that material off of his shoulders. This was the most you’d seen of Harry naked, and another human being at that. 

“What about you?” He says, walking you both back until he’s sat on the bed, “Can I see you?” 

“You’ll have to help.” You giggle, turning around. He starts to unbutton your dress, letting the material slip from your body into a pile upon the floor. He starts to unfasten your corset next, allowing that to slip from your body also. You were very exposed now, and you knew that, but the way that Harry looked at you sent all of your worries flying from your head. 

He leaned back on his arms and clambered back into his lap, similarly to the way you had done all those years ago when you first kissed in the library of this very house. You wrapped your arms around his neck, just has his rested upon the exposed skin of your waist. 

“YN?” You hum against his lips, “Can I make you feel good?” 

You pull away and nod, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. It made you feel nervous that he was going to see you in the way that he was but this was Harry, your husband and the person you had wished to be touching you and near to the years that you had been apart. He helps remove the rest of your undergarments until you’re completely naked in front of him, laying and waiting for whatever he is going to do to you. He removes his trousers and underwear as you do so. There’s something about seeing him like that causes your hear to flutter and the rest of you to follow it. 

He hovers over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips before moving down your neck and to your chest until he reaches your breasts, pressing kiss to the plushy skin around it until he wraps his lips around your nipple, lifting his hand up to pinch the other one between his fingers. 

“Fuck, love.” He smiles up at you as you whither beneath him, feeling all of your senses heightened at the feeling of him on your skin. 

He kisses down from your breasts to your stomach until his face is directly where you want it the most, where you’re literally throbbing for him. Without any warning, he leans forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue, causing your hips to buck up from the bed and moans threatening to spill from your lips. Your hand drops to the top of his head, tugging at the curls that rest there. You’ve never felt like this, ever, in your life and you believe that if you feel it too much you will become accustomed to it. Your thighs try to clamp around his head but he stops you from doing so by gripping your thighs with his hands. After a particularly hard tug of his curls, a moan erupts from Harry and vibrates against your clit causing you to shudder. 

He moved one of his hands up from your thigh to run over your wet slit, “Can I?” 

“Please.” You’re quite embarrassed about how breathy it comes out but once he slips one of his fingers in, and a whine escapes his lips you can’t be bothered to care about the sounds that are leaving your lips. 

“I need to stretch you out.” He says, curling his finger in you, “Can I?” 

You nod your head, “Please.” 

He pushes another finger into you, leaning his head back down to attack your clit again. He’s quite gentle with his tongue, using it to make a skilled attack on your clit, using it and his fingers to coax you closer and closer to the first ever orgasm you are to experience. 

“Harry.” You whine his name and the feeling washes over you quicker than you had expected it too, but at the same time the man knew what he was doing and you to bring you to that peak. He continued to move his fingers and kitten lick at your clit until your thighs stop shaking. Once you have, he moves up your body again and kisses you. 

“Good?” 

“Really good.” You laugh, wrapping your arm around his neck, “I want to feel you, H.” 

“Certain? Because we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

“I do.” You place your hand on his cheek, pecking his lips, “I want to.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You smile, “It’s going to hurt whether we do it now or later. I want to.” 

It’s uncomfortable to say the least, the feeling contrasting the one that you had felt earlier. You weren’t in a lot of pain, but it made it a little harder to feel the pleasure that you know you can feel from this act, Lizzie had told you plenty about it when you were younger. Harry grunted as he pushed into you, scrunching up his features. From the way that little groans and deep breaths escaped his lips, you knew that he was feeling an immense amount of pleasure. 

“Feel good?” He grunts against your neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin as you smile, running your nails down his back. You knew that he was close, from the way he twitched inside of you, and your tried everything to coax it out of him. 

“Feel so good, love.” He comes soon after his words, spilling into you and filling you up. 

He collapses on top of you and you hold him close to you, pushing his curls off of his forehead that have stuck. You giggle as his pouts his lips, leaning down to play a kiss to them. 

“I love you so much.” You smile. 

“And I, you.” He pulls you close, “You were never second best, I hope you know that.” 

“I do now.” 

Three Years Later

“Mary.” You smile, placing your hand on the back of the little girls shoulder, “That looks beautiful.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Styles.” She says, continuing to add the green paint to her painting. 

You and Harry figured out not that long after what do with the large house you had been left by his father. With your art and French skills, and Harry’s love for reading and slight knowledge of simple maths, you decided to convert the house into a school for the kids in the village. It was a place for them to come without having to worry and learn and focus on new skills. 

At this point you had just finished one of your art classes and left the kids to let their creativity flow with some paper and paints, as well as pencils and other materials for them to use. You were making your way outside, smiling at the sight of Harry sat in the garden with a group of children sat around him, listening to every word he spoke as he read from a book. 

The next thing you saw was your sister, stood with her husband and her children. You were surprised to see your little boy, Oscar, sat comfortably in her arms. The second he sees you, he’s making grabby arms in your direction. 

He had just turned one and was now in a phase of not wanting to walk but be carried everywhere. He was certainly his father’s son, in more ways than one. He looked identical to his father, with green eyes and unruly brown curls and dimples, but he was also the exact same person as your husband, and if you thought it was a struggle to live with one Harry Styles, having an Oscar Styles as well was just as hard. 

“Hi baby.” You pick him up and place him on your hip, his hand resting on your neck lovingly. From the way he drops his head to your shoulder, you can tell he’s almost ready for his nap. You smile and press a kiss to his cheek. 

Harry comes over a few seconds later and kisses you on the lips briefly and places a kiss to Oscar’s cheeks. The two of you look over at what you have created for the kids around you and smile at each other. 

“I’m glad I didn’t give up on you.” 

“Me neither.” You smile, “I love you, mon chéri.” 

“I love you too.” 

Oscar looks up at the two of you with a pout on his lips, causing Harry to chuckle, “And we love you too, little man.” 

[tendousthoughts]

How HQ Boys React to Someone Flirting With Their S/O

Character(s) included: Atsumu & Osamu

Requested by: My sibling who doesn't read my work lmao.

Warning(s): Cursing, Forcefully pinned to a wall [Atsumu], Hand forcefully around your waist [Atsumu]

Song of the day: Where Do I Go? by Lizzy McAlpine

A/N: Ah okay here is the new prompt. To kick it off we have "Grey hair both twins" requested by my sibling. Anyways this will be a Multipart series so request who you will want next! Thank you all for the love on my last series so hopefully you will like this one too. This one can be a bit heavy, being that this "flirting" can be very forceful as shown in the warnings. Please keep this in mind before you decided to "read more". If you wanna chat don't be scared, I like to think I am quite the kind person. ALSO- Please check out my cool moot @taeyamayang [i hope it is okay if I tag you..]

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Atsumu

Atsumu was always invited to parties and rarely went but today was different, today was celebration of their newest victory. So it would be weird not to bring his lover right..? Of course it would. Sadly you weren’t much of a social person. You looked amazing but Atsumu knew how much you hated compliments like that, it made you feel like that’s all you were good for. Like that was the only reason people stuck around. Which was why Atsumu normally complemented your intelligence, or amazing sense of imagination, or your strong sense of wrongdoing but not only that but so much more. He made you feel so loved in his arms. So maybe this once everything would go okay. It wasn’t like you could say no to going to such a big advent. It was important for Atsumu so it was important for you too.

When the night came up more anxiety hit, you weren’t one to party or anything so this was not something you were used to. You grabbed one of your more ‘fancy’ pieces of  clothing. The last time you wore it was years ago. It was a beautiful outfit so much that Atsumu claims when he saw it on you he fell in love. He just had to talk to you. He had heard so much about how you were so free and he loved that. He loved people who just rolled with it. Which was exactly what type of person you were. You were deep in love.

Atsumu walked out in this dark blue suit. God he looked so fucking hot. He had his hair styled back, he had a white shirt underneath the blue jacket. He was wearing a matching tie. “How is ma angel feeling?” he chuckled softly, meeting you in the mirror wrapping his arms around your waist burying his face in your neck. “ya smell so good.. yer perfume is so sweet.. I could eat you up,” he chuckled softly, his words muffled as kissing your neck as he held you.

“Baby that tickles,” you laughed softly, holding on to his arms. God, you felt safe in his arms. “I am good, how are you? You look amazing, hopefully nobody tries to steal you from me.” You laughed though to be honest you weren’t joking. He was all over the internet. He was the man of everyone’s dreams. Tall, handsome, funny, cute, strong, he was free and so much more.

“I am doing great, baby.. ah you know that wouldn’t happen, love,” he kissed you again. “Come baby let's go out to the front they are waiting,” he took your hand as you guys walked out to the front and was met with a limousine, “You guys are too extra,”  he muttered as he opened the door. There was Bokuto, Sakusa, Hinata, their partners and a few of their friends. “Where is the rest of the team?” He chuckled softly as he sat down gesturing to you to sit next to him which you did.

“Because we had to wait for you, they left already,” Sakusa muttered, sounding a bit pissed but his partner gently nuzzled him and he seemed to calm down in their arms.

“Ah I am sorry to all of you this was all my fault I took a bit longer then I should,” You smiled softly as they reassured you it was okay. As you arrived at the party the paparazzi was already waiting for the rest of the team to come out. The door opened and immediately the cameras started clicking which made you nervous. Atsumu’s warm arm wrapped around you as he kissed your head.

“Come on angel.. let's go have some fun then we can go home and cuddle,” he smiled softly as you shook your head. “I love you,” he whispered softly as he led you out. Cameras surrounding the others as they came out with their partners. You nuzzled into his side a bit more, gently he tightened his grip on you as you walked inside the large building. Loud noises surrounded you as he led you to the rest of the team. “Hey guys! This is ma angel!” he called out as they smiled a bit. A few laughs were heard. God he really was good at embarrassing you but to be honest you have only been dating like 3 months. You were at every game but still he acted like no one ever noticed you.

After an hour or so he offered to get everyone drinks, which everyone accepted and next thing you know Atsumu, Bokuto, Sakusa and Hinata were off grabbing the drinks while everyone else kinda stayed in a huddle. The music was too loud so you kinda moved to a corner waiting for him to return. Well in that moment someone decided to take their shot with you. Making their way over, you already noticed a few things. They seemed confident, a bit too confident. Flaunting to their friends about how some way they were going to get you. Some way he was going to make you fall in love at first sight. News flash.. you didn’t. Quite the opposite you wanted to leave as soon as you saw them approaching. “Hey Hun~ are you alone?” he questioned. Of course not. No one in their right mind would go to a party like this by themselves. Instead of answering you kept quiet. Which made them pursue you farther. “Awe don’t worry it is nothing to be embarrassed about~ I will keep you company.” They chuckled softly. Taking a step closer you were clearly uncomfortable.

“I am not alone.. I am with my boyfriend..” you muttered softly, your eyes glued to the ground, scared to even look up. You weren’t too good with things like this where they would push and push, to the point where you were forced to except. To the point where you would give your information just to be fucking left alone. You just wanted Atsumu to come back soon.

“Come on, give me some sugar. Your boyfriend doesn’t need to know about us, eh? It will be our little secret. I can tell you're smart. So why not just hand over the phone number and maybe we can hang out soon? That sounds nice right..?” Their voice was annoying, it wasn’t calm or sweet like Atsumu’s. It was demanding and rough. He didn’t care what you wanted. He didn’t.. he was going to push till you gave it out. You just had to hold on a bit longer and maybe Atsumu would be able to save you from this terrible, awkward moment. You just had to wait a bit more.. just a bit longer. Before you could say anything his hand was already around your waist

“Please get off me,” you pushed him off. Which seemed not to be the right move because next thing you know you were forcefully pinned to a wall, his arms tightly around your waist.

Next thing you know he is off you and then shouting. “Who the fuck do you think you are touching ma angel?” There he was, Atsumu. Finally.. It felt like it took ages but now he was here. He punched the guy in the face and you immediately rushed to his side to try and calm him down. He gently wrapped his arms around you. There it was. That warm feeling only he could give you. That safe feeling. He wasn’t forcing you to hug him or anything. You felt safe in his arms. You held him close. “ya okay angel.. I am sorry I took so long,” he muttered as he gently kissed your head. “He didn’t hurt ya did he? I will kill him, don't worry, just tell me,” he whispered in your ear. The guy was still recovering from the hit.

“I am okay.. thanks to you,” you whispered softly as you held on tight. To be honest you were a bit scared, not that Atsumu was going to hurt you but that you couldn’t tell if Atsumu was kidding when he said that he would kill that guy. He sounded dead serious but you really wanted to think of it as a joke. All you wanted to do was walk away right now. You wanted to go back to the group and pretend none of that happend. But of course that could happen. Of course that couldn’t because someone really wanted to piss off Atsumu.

“You know it sucks that cutie is left with you, I mean you only punch someone when they aren’t looking at you.. are you that worried? It is funny, now come on cutie do you really wanna be with this guy? I have a bunch of money.. that's why you're with him right?” Of course not. You really loved him. But right now you could tell he was pissed and you didn’t know what to do to calm him down. He let go of you and next thing you know he wasn’t in your arms anymore but on the floor punching the guy, making a mess out of him. You wanted it to stop. It only took a minute max before Bokuto and a few other people were pulling Atsumu off what was left of the guy. He was covered in his own blood now. Atsumu just looked annoyed, he wanted to kill the guy, or that's what it seemed like, it really seemed like he wanted him dead right now.

“Atsumu what the fuck are were thinking you could have gotten pulled from the next match for that shit!” Sakusa scolded, “I understand that you are pissed at him but that shit isn’t what you pull! Look at him!” he pointed to the guy. “When were you going to stop if we didn’t pull you off huh?” He seemed upset. You on the other hand were still in shock.

Atsumu made his way over to you and stood in front of you unsure what to say to you. So you took the lead, “fuck Atsumu,” you muttered as you clung to him his arms wrapping around you next. “What in gods name were you thinking, Sakusa is right, you could very much be fucking kicked from the next few games.” You muttered softly in his chest.

“I wanted to make sure he would keep his mouth shut about you. He had no right talking about you as if you are just an object. He had no right touching you. So I gave him a taste of his own medicine. I touched him without him asking and frankly I don’t regret it. I would do it all over again and I wouldn’t mind being suspended from the game if that means you would be okay and that he wouldn’t be touching you ever again.” He muttered back. “I really love you and it pissed me off. I am sorry if you are disappointed with me but there is a fine line with me, and he crossed it. He pushed me to the edge, I wasn’t going to do much more than that one punch if he just shut his pretty little mouth. But of course he had to bring up the fact that yer be a better fit with him.. I couldn’t let that pass by. I just couldn’t lose you.. please forgive me angel..” he muttered. Clearly he was a bit drunk as his words slurred a bit. He seemed all over the place but it was okay. “I really just wanted to protect ya..” he chuckled a bit. He didn’t seem to regret doing it but maybe he seemed a bit upset because he worried you were upset with him, which you really weren't. To be honest it was quite the opposite. You were so happy he did that, otherwise you would probably still be in that ‘guys’ arms.

“‘Tsumu thank you.. if it wasn’t for you I don’t know what I would be doing without you right now. You really saved me back there and not only that but you really make me lose my mind when I am around you. You really are the love of my life. So no, I am not disappointed or any of that shit, if anything I am worried about will happen to you now that you did that, I really don’t want you to get in trouble because you decided to help me get out of my mess… I am sorry that you were dragged into this baby.” you muttered as you kissed his head.  You weren’t lying when you said you were worried.

“Don’t worry about me angel, I will be okay. Okay? Don’t feel bad it was ma idea to attack the guy, none of that was yer fault. It is everything but your fault you wouldn’t have had to come if I hadn’t begged you too. If I didn’t go get the drinks and leave you by yourself you would have had to deal with him.. if he listened to you when you said no then everything would have been okay and everything would have gone much smoother. If he hadn’t made that remark he would not be in the state he is in. So angel none of what has happened was yer fault. Believe me okay, I really love you and I don’t want yer worrying about this. I will handle everything and keep you updated..”

You shook your head softly as you held him close, “I love you too babe.. I love you so fucking much.. thank you..” you whispered. You were a bit cold, and it must have been noticeable because Atsumu took off his jacket and placed it on you. “thanks..” you closed your eyes for a moment taking in his embrace.

In the end in a not so surprising amount of events Atsumu was benched for a little bit of time, for some reason he still claims it was worth it even though his teammates don’t. Which he almost threw a fit over, because they didn’t think that , ‘protecting his angel was worth not playing a few games’, though in reality they just meant that there were other ways that he could have gone about it but he decided to take the most violent approach. Which didn’t seem to work out in his favor. In the end the guy tried to press charges but after a bit decided to drop it. Nobody knows why but they think it had something to do with the lawyer or something. You and Atsumu were happy and that all that mattered. He was always there to protect you. He would never let that happen again. At night he held you closer than ever after that happened. He made sure you felt comfortable as he had one leg on top of you as the rest of his body was wrapped around yours. Which was surprisingly comfortable.

You just had one thing bugging you so you decided to address it. “Atsumu.. remember when that guy said that I was only with you because of your money.. I really hope you understand that he couldn’t be more wrong. I love you for so many things like your freeness, your ability to change, the way you can be so protective and loving at the same. Not only that but the stupid little things you do. Like the way you make stupid little jokes to lighten the mood. The way you call me when you are out and about just to make sure I am happy and am feeling okay, and if I am not how you make this cute little fucking dates to make me feel better. The way you remember small parts of a story that I tell you and will mention it at random times without even thinking.. The way even if something is not of your interest you take your time to learn it with me and listen to everything I tell you.. God you make me lose my mind but I really love you.. I really do..” you whispered breaking down into tears as he held you close.

“Angel.. it is okay.. you're always there for me. You make me feel special and you make me feel loved and for the first time in a while I find myself thinking I have finally one upped my brother. I have finally found someone who loves me for me and I really really love you. So don’t cry okay..? I never believed that guy. I know you love me and I hope you know I love more than just your body okay.. I love you so much so don’t ever.. ever think I don’t.” he held you to his chest. You gently shook your head. He was so good at making you happy. God he was just so fucking amazing. You really loved him and he really loved you too.

Osamu

Osamu always seemed to be favored, so naturally a lot of people asked him on dates, not only that but a lot of people did go on dates with him. But now you were dating him things slowed down. He stopped going on dates and naturally asked people to stop showing up when he was out with you. Well one thing for sure you are big now. You were Osamu’s lover. So of course people wanted you too now. You were everything everyone wanted, tied with the fact you were with Osamu and that just made you want more. This was a lot and to be honest you would have loved this before you met Osamu but now you kind of hoped all of that would stop. News flash it didn’t. Of course it didn’t, to be frank your opinion really matter to them, all that mattered was you were good looking enough to be with Osamu.

Your relationship was built on love and that’s all that mattered. You two really did love and trust each other. It was what your relationship was built on. It was what all relationships were built on. Your personalities went hand and hand. You loved going out and dancing. You loved midnight slurpees and driving on the freeway to nowhere, all windows down. You had to have the sunroof open and blasting music, singing on the top of your lungs. You loved the feeling. Osamu loved watching you feel so free, having so much fun with that amazing smile on your face. Who wouldn’t love that? You dragged Osamu to do cute things that nobody else would get. You loved dressing up, either in tight fitting clothing or loose fitted ones. It didn’t matter. You just loved the feeling. You felt invincible when you did that. You felt so free and you didn’t care if people judged you. Your opinion was the only one that mattered. You thought you looked amazing and that’s all that mattered to you. You loved dancing in the rain. Osamu didn’t mind at all. He loved to be with you and he was open to new things no matter how ridiculous it was. You guys jumped off a fucking plane one time together. Of course with a parachute but god you guys trusted each other that much.

This was the man you wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He was everything you ever wanted.. and now you had him as your partner and god that made you so happy. You were so happy. Your two year anniversary was soon and you knew you had to do something big. You got the whole day ready, you started off with just a movie. It was a romance movie, and you planned to ease into it. You didn’t wanna do anything too much. Something where you two could just be near each other. It might have sounded stupid, but that was all you really needed to be happy at the moment. You just felt so free when he was near you. You felt so fucking happy with him, and it was so hard to explain.

Then you had dinner together, you decided it would be best to have something more fancy. You wanted to show all your appreciation for all he had done for you. He stuck by your sides at your lowest moments and you didn’t know what else to say but thank you. You wanted to show how much you loved him, and to be frank, you weren’t too good at showing your affection. Everyone told you that. You knew it was true. You knew from your last relationships. You wanted this one to be different.. you couldn’t let him leave you, you couldn’t live without him now that you were dating him you felt safe, but never really comfortable. Too afraid to lose him, too afraid to fully let loose around him. You didn’t wanna scare him off. You really wanted to make this last.

Lastly, a nice walk.. right now they had a Christmas tree show. They were decorated.. Little did he know you actually had a tree in the show. It was in a park area and people just gotta have hot coco and relax and walk and see the trees. You decorated one just of you two and such. You tried your best to make it look nice but in the end you were just overwhelmed and wanting to give up. Atsumu reassured he would love it, and he was lucky to even have you so there was nothing to worry about anymore. Osamu loved you and that wouldn’t change over just some stupid tree. You have been good to him.. right?

When you met with him he was all dressed up. You two decided to wear matching scarfs and you were excited to see he went through with it. It was a warm dark burgundy color. With that he had a brown large coat and just classical dark brown shoes on. You were wearing A white turtleneck, a regular sized brown coat, black boots, and the signature burgundy scarf. Osamu looked so good in it, you two were matching more then you too though you would but you were quite glad. You slowly walked over, it took a moment before Osamu gestured for you to take his hand which you happily did, You never took the lead for that stuff. You always waited for him to ‘let you’ take his hand. Which might be stupid but it has been two years now and would it be weird to start now..? You didn’t wanna push your luck. You didn’t wanna ruin anything right now. Not when you were so happy.. Not when everything felt so nice. Not when everything seemed to be going good. You just had to hold on a bit longer. Just a bit longer.. maybe a bit would be forever but as long as everything stayed like this then you would be more than happy to continue as you did.

You guys arrived at the movie a bit later, You guys got one of the best seats in the whole theater but not only that but you also had the best person next to you in the entire world. Osamu. For most of the movie you guys exchanged loving glances and such. Your hands were cold as you interlocked with his. His fingertips were warm to the touch and not only that but holding his hand made you so happy. This date made you so happy. Just hanging out with him made you so happy. Sometimes it felt as if you couldn’t breathe and maybe that was a bad thing.. but god that tight pain in your chest made you feel so happy. You started to crave that feeling.

“The movie was great, baby.. Thanks for taking me to it.” He chuckled a bit, kissing your cheek as you two got up and started walking to dinner.

“Mhm of course love.. thanks for coming with me..” You muttered you were not too good with feelings so maybe this wasn’t the right thing to say at the moment but you didn’t mind.

“Ya of course, I am glad that you came out with me.” He whispered his grip tightening a bit as you walked with him. “I love you so much hun..” He muttered and in response you just smiled and shook your head. Osamu wasn’t one to throw around the word love. You learned that when you mentioned something about someone's appearance and saying you loved it. It started this stupid argument about how strong the world love meant. Osamu never liked it when you mentioned someone else and in the same sentence said the word love. He felt as if that word was and should only be used with people who are close to your heart, not just some random classmate or waiter. At first you didn’t understand but then Atsumu explained that Osamu’s last relationship ended because of cheating. He used to use the word love with everything but now only for you, and you alone.

After a few minutes you finally said something about it, “I love you too my darling..” you whispered in his ear as you held the door open for him. You moved to the side letting him go in first. You smiled a bit as you got moved next to him,  waiting for your turn to be seated. You luckily made a reservation, the place was packed with people, but of course it was. It always was, so now with Christmas coming up you weren’t surprised people were trying to get anything close to then. Soon enough you were seated and all you could focus on was Osamu, and his small beautiful smile. His perfectly calm face. His sweet tone. All that made you so happy. It always made you so happy. He glanced up from the menu chuckling a bit as he spoke, “Hun.. are you going to look at the food or me the whole time? I don’t want you going hungry,” he smiled a bit.

“Oh.. sorry,” you felt the warmth of the blood rush to your cheeks and tips of your ears. You didn’t think he had noticed, and since he did it was more embarrassing than you thought it was going to be. You glanced at the menu, you smiled a bit as you found what you wanted. Looking back up your eyes met with his and you immediately looked back down. “For someone who told me to look at the menu instead of the person of you then I would think you would do the same,” You smiled softly looking back up to find his ears and cheeks having hints of pink.

“Well I have picked out my food have you, hun?” He smiled a bit as he looked up to you. You and him always got the same thing, though you both pretended to act like that wouldn’t happen, you both pretended that you were interested in other options. Maybe because it felt really repetitive or something but it was what you liked.

“Mhm the same as always.. Are you getting what you usually do..?” You asked and in response he just shook his head. You order soon after. Once the food came, it was the same as always. The flavor coating all over your mouth. You were quite happy with the taste. You always ordered a cream sauce risotto, with mushrooms and shrimp. Osamu ordered squid ink pasta with a cream sauce and shrimp as well. The food was always so good so you were glad it was the same today. After you got dessert. Osamu whispered something to the waiter as they walked away. A few minutes later they came back with a lemon sorbet. Next thing you know Osamu smiled a bit and pulled out a small box flipping in open. There were two initials carved into it. They were matching promise rings.

“Y/n, I love you so much. You were always there for me and I want to thank you. I know we are both still young but I want to make sure you will stay mine. So y/n can you make a promise that when the time comes we will marry..?” He asked softly. You were tearing up a bit as you shook your head and then the ring slipped on. God it was perfect. But now you were worried your gift wasn’t good enough being that Osamu bought you a ring and you just decorated a tree. Osamu and you finished dinner by getting up. Now just one more place to go. The Christmas tree show. You walked with him slowly, not wanting him to be so disappointed faster. When you arrived at the park Osamu ran to the bathroom for a second. To be honest he had been nervous the whole time so now he just wanted to freshen up a bit.

As you waited for him a male approached you. “Hey love.. you here alone?” he chuckled a bit. A bitter smile plastered on his face.

“No, I am actually here with my boyfriend. I am just waiting for him at the moment,” You tried to give a smile back, though you didn’t like the nickname love, It made you feel as if he and you were in a relationship, though you haven’t met this man once.

“Ah  what a shame that he is making such a pretty face wait..” He muttered, “how about you and me get a hot chocolate? Hm?” He chuckled a bit more. Though it seemed extremely forced, unnatural.

“No I just wanna wait for him, but thank you for the offer,” He was taller than you, maybe Osamu’s height. Close to that. You didn’t feel comfortable, you felt anything but comfortable right now you just wanted to leave. You didn’t wanna be near this guy one more minute, but at the same time you wanted to wait for Osamu to come out of the bathroom so he didn’t think you left him. So In the end you just waited for him.

“Ah well could I just get your number sweetheart..?” He chuckled a bit, throwing those nicknames that made you want to throw up that made you want to cry out for help. But when you said no he just kept pushing. Then that warm arm around your waist. Osamu's warm arm.

“Oh hey,” He knew what was happening but he knew that you were more loyal than anyone else he had ever met, he knew that you didn’t feel comfortable, “sorry for making you wait hon, we can go see the Festival now okay?” He lucky got you out of there, “I am sorry about that hun did he do anything to you,” He asked, walking down the trail slowly.

“No he didn’t do anything, don't worry, thank you for helping me get out of there, I really appreciate it,” you muttered softly. Soon enough you had arrived at the tree, his face turned from stunned to a weird emotion that you couldn’t quite read. Which was quite new you normally could understand what he was trying to say and now this just made you ten times more worried then you should have been.

“You did this..?” He muttered softly, turning to you as you shook his head, “Ah I see, I really like it. That photo is when we first met. I was so nervous.. Did I tell you that? I saw you just sitting there and I thought I was late. That one is from the first time you met my brother, oh god he even annoyed me with the amount of questions he asked you. That one was from our first slushy night, after your bitch of a friend dumped you to hang out with the cooler kids though I swear you were the coolest person in the world. Oh at that one is when we were about to go skydiving together, god I was so terrified did I tell you that? You acted so excited so I tried to pull off a cool face but once we were doing it god it was so fun. This is so beautiful. Thank you baby.. This is the best gift in the entire world.” He whispered tears falling from his cheeks as he pulled you to a hug. “God I love you baby..” You felt all the worry and doubt melt off of your shoulders. You were so glad he liked it. You were so glad he remembered these memories. These were some of the best memories of your life but you knew more were going to come.

“I love you so much too baby. I was so worried you weren’t going to like it. God thank god. You do so much for me and I couldn’t wish for anything more than this. You are the one I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I feel so free with you, I feel so happy with you, I feel like myself with you.. I get nervous to hold your hand. Every time you smile I just fall in love again. Everything you do makes me feel so free and happy, and I don’t want this feeling to ever end so thank you so much for everything you ever did for me. Those slushy nights are the best nights of my life, any time when I am with you I feel like nothing can hold me back. Nothing can harm me. You make me feel like royalty.. I don’t know what I did to deserve you but thank you for staying with me. I love you so much.” You muttered softly. Next thing you know you were pulled into a kiss. His warm lips pressed on yours, both of your salty tears mixing with each other. Little i love you're falling from both of your lips. This is how it was supposed to go. You and him, forever. You were soulmates, you knew you guys had to be.

Follows and likes are appreciated! Please reblog if you enjoyed it, so more people can find my work! Thank you all for your support! Stay safe, and have a good rest of your day!

[fangirlings-things]

Not a nun

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x daughter!reader

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: language, alcohol, smoking, mentions of sex

Summary: Tommy finds out his daughter had sex and confronts her about it

• anon said: Can I request a overprotective Tommy Shelby finding out his daughters had sex? Think you’d be soooo good at writing this with your style 🎉

A/N: I really hope you like this piece, love, I enjoyed writing it very much and tried to put as much as I could of Tommy's personality in it. thank you for your kind words, I hope you have a lovely day 💕

tag list: @sophieshelby ; @charmingvalkyrie ; @inglourious-imagines

gif is not mine

“Did you ask to see me?” you entered your father’s office with a frown and light steps. You had been just about to go out with your uncle John to The Garrison, when Lizzie had come to up to you and said your father wanted to speak to you in private. The look on her face made it pretty clear that he wanted to see you now, not later.

Your father was sitting at his comfortable, black chair with a cigar between the fingers of his right hand. He took a smoke while looking at you standing at the door of his office. A deep, smoke. The expression on his face, you knew that one. It meant he was giving something specific a great amount of thought. Apparently, it had to do with you. He released the smoke from his lungs and pointed the empty chair across from him on his table with the cigar. “Sit down, (Y/N)”

You frowned even deeper at that. Closing the door behind you, you walked towards the seat and took it, leaning back on it quite comfortably. Sighting, you crossed your legs and rested your arms on the chair's arms. “Well?”

Your father took another smoke, and you patiently waited as he did so. Once he got the smoke out again, his bright eyes were fixed in yours with much intensity. “You went out last night”

“Yes, like I usually do” you said without hesitation, looking on his features for whatever was the reason that had made you go there in that moment. Unlike most of the time, you couldn’t quite read his expression.

“You want me to tell you what was different about last night myself or are you going to do it?” the question was incisive, went to the point just like he usually did. Thomas Shelby was your father, after all. You were used to that behavior since you were just a kid.

The motive of that sudden reunion quickly became clear for the way his expression was emotionless and the look in his eyes seemed so profound. He knew. It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting him to find out, of course he would. He did find out things about his enemies, how could he not know about his daughter’s moves? And yet, you had seriously thought it would take a little more time than just one day for that to happen.

“I had sex last night” you said, sighting. No point in denying the truth, your family had always thought you that.

“Yes, you did” your father replied and his tone was stern, calm. His mind was working fast and hard though, you knew it was. The took another smoke. The deepest of all until that moment.

You squeezed your lips in a thin line, sighting again. “Got another one of those?” you nodded your head in the direction of his cigar. The got a pack out of the pocket of his black coat and handed it you. You got one out, gave the pack back to your father and as he placed it back where it was before, you trapped the cigar between your lips and lit it up. You took a smoke, then lowered your arm back to the chair’s arm. You passed your free hand through your hair. “Who was the one who followed me?”

“Billy Kitchen” Thomas told you, fixing his coat back in place perfectly. You gave out a small smile at that. No matter how fucked up the situation could be, your father would always be well dressed and his appearance straight. A weird habit yet, curious.

“Billy?” you said surprisingly, raising your eyebrows. “I thought he was caught up working for Alfie Solomons in Camden Town, looking over our interests”

“I pulled him out for a few days and placed another one of our man in charge. He needed some rest” your father explained, pausing for another smoke. This one was short, casual only. He licked his lips in an anxious manner before continuing. “So I put him on you, you're usually easy to track. He’s been following you for the past week”

“Bold move, I liked it” you smiled and took another smoke of your own cigar. You got the smoke out of your lungs slowly, thinking about your next words. “Did Billy tell you who I was with?”

“No, I didn’t ask. He just said you had sex” Thomas leaned his head on the chair, eyes going to the roof over your heads.

“Do you want me to tell you?” you asked, taking another smoke. This time, you got it out in a french inhale. You sighted in appreciation at that. “The name, if it was with a guy or a girl? Maybe both?”

Your father gave you an incisive look that made you chuckle and raise your hands in the air, shutting up. He then leaned his head back again and sighted. “That’s your business, (Y/N). Not mine. I’ve always been very aware of the fact that you weren’t going to be a nun” he took the cigar to his lips and smoked again, the expression on his face almost making you chuckle. “I just need you to be careful with whom you decide to lay with. You’re a Shelby, we have enemies everywhere” he straitened his position and locked his gaze on yours. “People may try to get to me through you, and I can’t have that”

“I am very aware of that” you said, moving the hand you held your cigar with as you spoke. “and that is why I asked uncle Arthur to do a full background check on the person I decided to lay with”

That surprised Thomas. He narrowed his eyes and frowned in your direction. You enjoyed that moment of victory. People rarely surprised your father in any situations. “You planned your first time for days before actually having the sex?”

You took another smoke, a wide smile on your face. “Precisely” you pointed to your father with your cigar. “Flirted with the person, saw if I really liked them and then asked Arthur a little favor. He didn’t tell you, I knew he wouldn’t. That’s why I love uncle Arthur so much”

Your father make a sound that almost sound like a chuckle before pulling his cigar out in an ashtray and getting up. “That was a smart move” he went towards the little bar he had on the corner of the room as he said so. “Whiskey?”

“I’ll have that” you said, and watched as he poured the drink into two glasses. He came over and handed you one of those. “Thank you” you took a sip as your father walked around the table and sat again on his chair. “So, as you can see I am very careful when regarding the people I fuck with. Does this give me some credit?”

“Don’t say 'people I fuck with'. Just don’t” Thomas had an expression on his came that came close to disgust. You repressed a laugh by taking another sip of your whiskey. “And yes, it does give you some credit”

“So can I ask some things here?” you raised your eyebrows at him, smiling as you also put your cigar out in the ashtray. Leaning back in your chair, you saw him nod in agreement. “Very well, first of all, I want Billy Kitchen to stop tracking my every step. A girl needs her privacy”

“I suppose that’s fair enough” your father took a long sip of his own drink, sighting heavily as he usually did when he recognized he had to do something that he did not entirely want.

“And second, I want to go to the next horse race” Thomas opened his mouth like he was about to deny that, but you cut him by quickly continuing to speak. “You can let me come with you, or I can ask uncle Arthur to take me instead. And you know he’ll be a pain in your ass for days until you finally agree to it if I do”

Your father really chuckled this time. “I have really raised you in my image, haven’t I?”

You smiled and lifted your glass in his direction. “The best image there is, father”

He softly touched your glass with his. “Cheers to that” he said and then, you both drank together.

[bratshaws]

goodness gracious 102. brb x oc -finale-

THIS FIC IS 18+ ONLY! MINORS PLS DNI!

a/n: and....it happened my sweets. WE REACHED THE END OF goodness gracious. But as you well know, this isn't the end of Bea and Rooster. I just want to thank you ALL for giving my fic a chance, thank you, thank you so much. I feel so welcome in this fandom that even my self doubt and paranoia feels stupid sometimes haha. Anyway, enjoy the smut! And be prepared for the sequel's first chapter tomorrow, I'll link it to GG's first chapter too so everyone can UHHH get used to it??!! (also yes i did cry writing this chapter WOW)

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: SMUT, SMUT SMUTTTT, mirror sex, why is rooster so kinky we may never know

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64

65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84

85/86/87/88/89/90/91/92/93/94/95/96/97/98/99/100/101

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

-

“My feet are killing me.” Beatrice says once they open the door,her fingers hooked on the back of the heels, Jolene dragging her paws behind them as she was having a hard time keeping herself awake. In fact she just shook the flower collar out of her neck before hopping on the couch and immediately falling asleep, ignoring the couple still at the door.

Beatrice smiles sweetly, turning to her now husband who was just giving her a little smile, “Well,” he looks at the threshold, “It’s tradition, isn’t it? And since your feet hurt…,” she squeaks in surprise, immediately hugging his neck when he picks her bridal style - literally - laughing as he walks them inside, gently shutting the door when he hears Jolene’s loud snoring from the couch.

She giggles as he puts her down, “Thank you,” she whispers, kissing his lips as he locks the door, “Whew, what a night.” she laughs, pulling the half bun loose to the rest of her hair falls down her back, removing the tiny flowers pinned on the strands as well. Rooster follows his wife up the stairs, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his vest as he reaches the bedroom door. He leans his shoulder against the doorframe, watching Beatrice make her way into the room, gently putting the high heels aside as she rubbed her neck.

She felt his eyes on her, turning around and smiling, “Hi,” he smiles wider in response, “How are you feeling?”

“You know when you are a kid,” he begins, “And you have an amazing birthday party, you know you are tired but you don’t feel tired?” she nods while half laughing, “I know I should be exhausted, but…I’m not that much.” he also couldn’t stop looking at her, “You look so beautiful.”

Beatrice’s cheeks turn red when he says so, her smile widening, “You look very handsome yourself,” she whispers back, “Like a real prince.”

Rooster laughs breathily, dropping his head forward before entering the room, closing the door behind him, “You know,” he begins, his eyes dropping to her thigh where he knew the garter was, ‘We never got to remove your garter.” Beatrice’s cheeks got darker, but her lower lip curled into her mouth, “We should do something about it since,” he looks at his watch, “Technically it is our honeymoon, we just aren’t in Italy yet.”

“It is a fourteen hours flight, Roos.” she whispers, but she’s leaning back a bit on the bed, one of her legs straight in front of her body, “And we’ll have to get to the airport at six, so…”

But honestly neither of them seemed too worried about it, they could always sleep at the airport or at the plane or wherever, and considering how they were looking at each other it was obvious they were thinking the same thing. Rooster smirks, locking the door without taking his eyes from hers as he approaches the bed, shrugging off his suit jacket, “I promise it’ll be an activity that will make both of us so tired we’ll reach Palermo rejuvenated.”

Beatrice chews her lower lip even more, following his tall broad frame get closer and closer, eyelids low as he kneels in front of her, she could feel his fingertips tapping the outer side of her calves, making their way over to her thighs so he could figure out where exactly the garter was. “...y-you make a very good point.” 

“I knew you’d agree,Mrs.Bradshaw.” his smirk only widens and with the only light source coming from the moonlight that peeked through the curtains, it made this whole experience almost ethereal, Rooster didn’t look real - like often - but adding that now he was her husband made the whole ordeal appear unreal. Beatrice continues chewing her lower lip, his fingers trailing all the way up her thighs, pulling the tulle along so he could see it better.

Once her knee is visible, he drops a kiss there, then proceeds to make a trail of wet kisses up until he reaches the garter, his eyes immediately meeting hers as soon as his teeth bite the elastic lace, her leg lifting just enough so he could pull it out without it getting stuck. She eased out a soft sigh, her cheeks burning so brightly she looked like a ripe tomato but she couldn’t move her eyes from him even if she tried. 

He looks down at the garter in his hand as soon as he pulls it off, analyzing the intricate patterns and delicate lace that made it, before he sets it aside, “I might keep it as a bookmarker.” he jokes, “So I don’t forget this night.”

“Oh, you t-think it’ll be forgetful, Roos?”

He laughs while shaking his head, “No,I think it’ll be fucking amazing,” he pushes himself to his feet, “Stand up for me, gorgeous?” she does once he steps back enough, already knowing what he planned and giving her back to him. Beatrice feels him brushing her hair to the side so he can see the zipper that kept the dress together. Memories of last year’s Halloween when he stood behind her - the very day they declared their love for each other - comes to mind and she couldn’t deny how fitting it was to think of it again, hours after their wedding ceremony.

The dress was much easier to remove than the bodysuit, she held back a surprised gasp when she felt his mustache tickling the side of her neck, with his hands sliding down her arms so the sleeves would drop faster. Beatrice’s eyes fluttered closed, her blush going down her neck to her chest, feeling goosebumps following his wandering hands. 

Her chest got colder, then she felt the fabric pool at her feet, followed by the sound of her husband’s clothes rustling, she blinks her eyes open and turns around to see he’s removing his vest - his eyes are deep black because of his pupils- and Beatrice holds his hands, “Wait,” she whispers, chewing her lower lip the very second Rooster ceased his movements, “Can I?”

Usually that was his line, because he worried about her comfort, he worried about her thoughts getting too overwhelming and he just wanted her to be okay with him. The fact that Beatrice voiced those words sent chills all over her body, “Yeah.” he breathes out, watching her gently pick the dress up and set on the futon by the end of the bed as folded as she could make it. 

Her undergarments were simple, yet perfect for her, with the lace and the light pink color, making the image of a fairy be even more ingrained in his brain. She returns, standing int front of him and leaning up so their lips would meet.

They’ve been kissing a lot that night, no more than usual if he was honest, but something about this kiss was different. They were husband and wife now, there’s a whole new weight that was lifted from their shoulders, the cold of her rings touching his cheek when she cups his face, keeping him there with her. It was a thank you inside a kiss, a thank you for everything from now and beyond and a promise that she’d never leave him.

It’s strange how they both can feel the same emotions just by kissing, some people say that when you find the one, your soulmate, you don’t need words. You just know it. Her smaller hands drop from his face to his shoulders, feeling his defined arms through the fabric, before she drags them forward to the middle where she starts to unbutton his shirt. They never stop kissing when she does so, in fact the kissing gets more intense than before. He pushes them forward so her back is touching the wall.

She gasps into his mouth, pushing the shirt open so he can shrug it off alongside the maroon colored tie, not caring about it as much as she was with her dress, preferring to keep his hands on her body. But Beatrice wasn’t too far behind, her smaller hands dropped from his broad shoulders to his defined chest and six pack, following the dark happy trail until she reached the edge of his dark pants.

Rooster groans into her mouth when she presses her palm against the bulge in his pants, moving his hips forward to grind against her hand. Beatrice’s lips formed a smile against his lips, hooking her thumb on the seam of his pants until she found the little button that kept it closed. Her husband just moaned again, trying to get some friction out of that but Beatrice just unbuttoned his hands and let it fall to the ground.

He kicked them aside much like the rest of his clothes, now both were only wearing their undergarments and they finally broke up for air, chest heaving and mouths flushed red. His eyes move from her face to her scarlet blush covered chest, before he picks her up by her thighs and takes them to the bed, where he hovers on top of her, his massive frame almost shielding her from the moonlight coming through, “Fuck you are so beautiful.” he whispers, following the lace on her bra and panties, focusing on the dark damp spot already forming on her panties’ crotch just from their kissing, “You get so wet for me.”

Beatrice hitches a breath, “Always.” and he had to try to control himself at how she curved her spine and stretched her arms upwards on the bed, the pose making her curves even more pronounced and making her look like an actual pinup in a WWII poster. He licks his lips, dropping his mouth back on hers, then slowly makes his way down to her neck, kissing right under her jaw exactly where he knows it’s her weak spot.

Her soft gasp in response already adds to the sexual tension, but he wants to take it slow, it’s their very first night as a married couple, he wanted it to be special just like their actual first time was. Plus, his wife looked beautiful, he wanted to admire her a little bit more. 

His soft lips travel down her neck to her collarbones, then to her cleavage where he presses a kiss right in between her breasts, his hands coming up her waist until they reach her back, quickly finding the clasp and opening it one handed. He only pulls back to help her get rid of the lacy top and leave her upper body bare. No matter how many times he had seen her naked, he always had to admit Beatrice had “The most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen.”

She laughs sweetly, dropping her arms by the sides of her head as she watches how his gaze stood still on her newly uncovered breasts, his dark briefs looking even more tented than before, “You always compliment them.”

“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” he laughs, “Nothing against the women who want to add some more but the fact that this is completely natural is…great.” her breasts bounce in reply when she laughs again, “I mean, fuck Bea.” he growls, “Everything in you is fucking beautiful.”

There were times earlier in their relationship where she couldn’t really take the compliment without feeling tears sting her eyes, but now…now she was in a completely different mindset, she didn’t doubt him anymore. She just misled serenely in response, her brown hair partially hiding her eyes as she looked up at him, “You look like a pinup, seriously,” he suddenly confesses.

Beatrice takes in his words, “Maybe that’s an idea for a future photoshoot.” she coos and Rooster’s eyes snap up to her own, hunger written in the brown irises “So you can have something to put on the F-18 when you are gone.”

“Fuck,babe.” he breathes out in amazement, kissing the outerside of her breast, “Don’t fuckin’ tease me like that.” but Beatrice laughed a bit more, just in time for his mouth to fall on her nipple and the hand not holding himself upwards travels down to her panties, tugging at the elastic enough so he could slide his hand inside. Beatrice’s quiet moans were music to his ears, a whole concert if he was being honest.

She was so vocal for someone so shy and nervous, it really meant that she felt comfortable with him to let loose and that was honestly the best part of all this: she trusted him wholeheartedly. It took a while for her to break those scared walls that surrounded her but now that she did there wasn’t anything else holding her back. Her moaning got louder when his teeth gently nip her nipple, just a gentle bite but enough to make the brunette arch her back in response.

Two fingers moved back and forth inside her panties, against her outer lips and clit, not entering yet , just rubbing her soft center and feeling the fluids sticking to his digits even more. Beatrice gasps out his name when he moves to the opposite breast, licking along the way until he reached its twin just in time to press his palm heel against her clit a bit harder, earning a sharper moan from his wife.

Beatrice’s flushed chest turned darker, the tiny freckles he noticed after so long together almost disappearing under the dark pink blush only made her even more endearing. He wanted her to have a wonderful night, he knew she desired it just as much as the way her nails clung on his shoulders and how her head was tilted back.

He pulls back from her breast, something that earns a soft gasp of surprise from Beatrice, only to press his lips to hear ear just in time to insert his index and middle finger into her. He could see her goosebumps and could hear her soft moan when he finally did so smirking against her soft skin, “You are so fuckin’ beautiful, Bea.” he coos, moving his fingers slowly at first, straddling one of her thighs in the process, “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

“B-Brad…”

“All flushed up and so wet for me.” he whispers on her skin, feeling her thighs wrap around his arm as he moves his fingers, she turns her head towards him so their eyes meet. “Fuck I love you so much.”

“I love y-you too…” she whispers, moving her hips to meet his hand, whining quietly whenever he hit that special spot inside of her. “Roos…” but he’s not speeding up, in fact, he is pulling out, “W-What–”

“It’s our first night as a married couple babe,” he whispers a bit out of breath himself, “It’s going to be fuckin’ special, gorgeous.” he once again looks down at her body, pulling the panties down her legs and letting them flop to the floor before he moves to his own dark briefs, rolling them down his thick thighs until nothing else has him covered.

Beatrice bites her lower lip, he was all sharp lines and firm muscles, she couldn’t help but always admire him, “What do you have in mind?” she wasn’t even mad he stopped, too curious to know what he was planning. Her husband smirked, the corner of his lip lifted as he grabbed her by the hips,pulling her closer to the edge of the bed until he could grab both of her ass cheeks.

She knew he was strong, he had proven that time and time again, but it always surprised her when he picked her up. She squeaks out a laugh, holding on his neck out of habit even though she knew he wouldn’t let her fall, “Funny you asked.” he says quietly, flipping them around so he’s the one lying on the bed instead, “Because at the wedding you, besides looking like a fucking fairy princess,.” Beatrice bites her lip with a smile “You looked fucking sexy and it made me wonder if we could have a quickie before the reception.”

She gasped with her eyes wide,”Bradley Nicholas, you didn’t.” he nods without any shame on his face, rubbing her legs from hip to knee, “And is that your plan now?”

“I don’t plan on being quick.” 

“Of course not.” she smiles, chewing her lower lip again before she speaks, “...Roos, you do know I stopped the birth control shots,right?”

His hands still on the curve of her hip, his eyes meeting hers immediately and his smile slowly faltering. He completely forgot she stopped the birth control shots - they weren’t able to do much since they were so busy with the wedding.  And for a second, for a brief yet intense second, the idea that now they could have a child whenever they made love did something to him.

He wasn’t a guy who was turned on by the idea of popping children left and right, but he did enjoy the image of Beatrice carrying a baby - their baby. Just the very thought was already making the hairs on his arms stand on end and he had no idea how to react to that. He couldn’t explain, maybe it was how raw that thought was, it was something they talked about before obviously but now knowing that they were going to actually be able to do it was messing with him. “...fuck.”

“Roos?”

“I forgot,” he inhales deeply, “I forgot you stopped.”

“Well, you suggested it–”

“No,no I know baby.” he didn’t want her to think he was backing out suddenly, “But…shit…I don’t know, it’s kinda hot, you know?” he laughs almost out of breath, the hands on her hips digging just enough, “Fuck it is more than kinda hot, it’s really hot.”

Beatrice looks down at her husband in surprise, “Rooster…is that a kink I’m suddenly discovering?”

“Fuck,I have no idea.” he confesses, looking so intensely into Beatrice’s eyes that the brunette’s head recoil back in surprise, “But I kinda wanna find out.” he,however, seemed to be reconsidering their location, looking around before his eyes stop at the bathroom, more specifically the bathroom’s mirror. He wastes no time in picking her up and standing, rushing to take the two of them to the bathroom, turning her around so she sees her reflection in the mirror. 

Beatrice couldn’t even figure out at first where they were until she saw her reflection, and his in the mirror. She panicked for a minute, almost ready to run away when the light on the mirror’s edge turned on automatically, illuminating the small area both of them were,giving the two of them a yellowish glow

She feels and sees his mouth pressing open kisses on the side of her neck, pushing her forward enough that she has to support herself against the sink, half open eyes following his wandering hands as he slides them down her waist, “Is this okay?” he asks quietly on her throat.

If this was months ago she’d beg him to go back to the bedroom, where it’s safe and dark and she couldn’t see herself…but the panic she felt before dissipated the more she felt his hands on her body, the more she felt how much he was turned on, the more she remembered how many times they did this just not where they could either see like that, “Yes.” she whispers, “I-It’s fine.”

Rooster eases out a sigh, dropping his forehead on the curve of her shoulder as he takes the words in. He lifts his head enough to meet her gaze on the mirror, wrapping one of his arms around her waist to pull her flush against him while the other disappears behind her to align himself to her entrance, gently pushing forward until he hilted inside. The second it happened, the moan that broke from both of them was loud enough to probably shake the windows.

Beatrice’s head tumbles forward, her hair covering most of her face as she tries to hold herself back, feeling the hand that wasn’t holding her waist slide all the way up her stomach until it reached one of her breasts, keeping it in his palm as he moved. Beatrice whimpers, the hands on the sink clenched into fists and her back was straight as a rod, he wasn’t moving fast yet, no he was keeping his movements slow and patient, he was dragging along, he just wanted to take things a bit slow tonight.

She could feel him everywhere, not only inside of her, he was such a big presence that she felt surrounded by him, “Brad…G-God…” she still has her head tumbled forward, which to him couldn’t be done. 

He wasn’t going to tug her hair and push her back, instead he combed her hair to the side and pressed kisses up the curve of her shoulder to her ear, “Look up baby,look up…” he says in breathy whispers as Beatrice whines again, slowly lifting her head with her hair still in front of her eyes. Bradley combed the long brown strands back so her vision wasn’t obstructed by it.

Beatrice, once her gaze sharpened on what she was seeing, felt her body shudder upon seeing their reflection together, his face right next to hers with his lips on her cheek but his eyes meeting her own, “Fuck, look at you,” he whispers, moving his hips in a wave like motion against her behind something she appreciated a lot considering the moan that came out of her mouth, “Fuckin’ beautiful thing you are, can’t fuckin’ get enough of you.”

His words, added to the reflection, was doing something to her. Usually he didn’t have to do much because,well, it was Rooster. He could make eating cereal be sexy - which happened before -  he didn’t have to do much to drive her crazy, “R-Roos…” she whispered, her eyes barely open but still looking at them. She whimpers, her own hand topping his own on her breast to keep it there, her hips moving back to meet his thrusts.

“Yeah, baby?” his deep voice replies on her ear, “What do you need?”

“I-I…”

“Huh? Do you want me to fuck you faster?” she whimpers and her channel clenches, “Do you want me to make you bend over this sink, huh? Is that what you want?” she couldn’t reply, too busy moaning quietly, but the way her hips were meeting his - the plush of her ass meeting his navel - was already enough. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Her pupils dilated this time, “Y-Yes, Lieutenant.” he could see how the corner of her mouth lifted with amusement but he couldn’t deny how sexy her voice sounded whenever she said anything. Bradley drops his head to her shoulder, lips to her jawline and now wraps both of his arms around her waist, his thrusts speeding up just enough to make another gasp leave her mouth, a gasp that eventually turns into a broken moan.

Bradley just kept his eyes on her, on how her breasts bounced, on how her head tilted back when she moaned, on how her hair was starting to stick to her skin, “Eyes on me.” he repeats and she immediately meets his eyes through the mirror, “Good, very good recruit.” he coos, “You like when I fuck you like this,don’t you?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes,what?”

“Y-Yes,s-s-sir.”

His hips speed up a bit more, the sound of skin slapping echoing in their bathroom, “Fucking delicious thing you are, taking me so well aren’t you? Such a nice tight pretty pussy,” his hand swoops down to slap her ass and in turn makes a loud yelp break out of her, “That just is dripping, fuck Bea.” he drops the lieutenant role to bury his face on her neck, “Fuck,baby I love you so much.” 

“I love you too Brad…” she whimpers, turning to face his head on her shoulder, a delirious smile on her face but heart on her eyes as their gazes meet, “I love you too..I love you too…” so much happened in one year that neither of them could even explain how it worked. They met each other, dated,moved in together and got married all within a year.

Some people would call that crazy, some people wouldn’t understand how it was possible for these two people to find each other and decide to get so much done. “Bea…” he whispers, with his hips moving with more force and speed, enough to push her forward - her hands sliding until they reached some of the hygienic products on the sink, eventually dropping everything upon contact - their faces now much closer to the mirror, enough to fog the glass.

But the crazy thing is, when you find your person, you just know. “Brad–” she tosses her head back over his shoulder, one of her hands coming up to run her nails on his nape, “Roos, I’m going to cum, please!!”

“Fuck baby, you can cum,” he gasps, his hips hitting her cheeks with enough force to redden them even more, “Cum for me, gorgeous, just cum all over me, baby don’t–” she screams before he finishes the sentence, the hand on his nape goes a bit higher to tug the longest strands of brownish blonde hair but not with enough force to rip them off. His name leaves her lips when she does orgasm, the soft high pitched noises that follow only add up to his own release approaching.

He isn’t going to last long, he hugs her tighter against him, both of them perspiring enough for their bodies to become slick. He feels the tension snapping and his thrusts turn choppy as a deep - almost guttural - groan escapes from his throat, being muffled by her hair when he drops his face on top of it, clenching his eyes and brows, her smaller hand rubbing his arm soothingly as he tries to control his breathing with his hips still moving forward.

After a while there’s only their heavy breathing, nothing more. But the silence isn’t bad, in fact, the silence is very welcome because what soon follows is her quiet giggle, something that makes the pilot lift his head from her shoulder and look at her in question, “...You aren’t wrong, we’ll both be reach Palermo pretty rejuvenated.”  he blinks at her words, before his own laughter comes out to join hers, their foreheads touching and smiles bright as they keep close together.

The laughter dies down, but the smiles don’t. Beatrice’s hand drops from his hair to gently caress his face, “Thank you.”

“For what, baby?”

Her eyes shine with unshed tears, “...for loving me.” it was so quiet, albeit so sincere that Rooster himself wasn’t expecting it. But he did wipe the one tear that rolled down her face before it fell to the sink.

“I’d love you even if we never met.” he says just as sincerely, smiling when her soft laugh greets his ears, ‘...maybe we should take a bath, huh? Get squeaky clean for our honeymoon.”

‘You just want to have bathtub sex.” she jokes, but her husband pauses, giving her a look.

“Well,I wasn’t…but now I got an idea.”

[my-robot-heart]

Okay, firstly, good luck with your procedure tomorrow!! ❤️ Secondly, "i heard you crying" for the misc. angst starters please?? 🥺 And lastly... am I the only one lowkey hoping for all these incredible, life-sustaining prompt fills to be posted on AO3?? 👀

Coda tysm friend! If anyone knows a quick and easy way to copy from tumblr I shall post over on ao3 💛

This one is good, it's angsty but also gentle. My fave style. Hmm let's see... ah yes one of my top fave gifs also.

"...Lizzie?" She heard his voice through the adjoining door of their hotel room.

Lizzie sat up, suddenly aware that she must have woken Red up when she started crying. Damn it. She quickly brushed some tears from her cheeks.

"I'm fine. It's nothing. Go back to sleep," she whispered furiously.

There was a pause, but she didn't hear him walk away from the door.

"Red?"

"Lizzie, I... heard you crying. Are you... is there something I can do?"

"No. I said I'm fine," she repeated. "Please go back to sleep."

"... Alright," he said at last, and she heard him this time walking back into his room.

She waited until it sounded like he'd gotten into bed and then turned her face into her pillow. God. She couldn't even cry in private.

And if he knew what she was crying about... that was even more embarrassing. He probably thought it was because she was nervous about their operation. That she was worried she might get hurt or something. But really-

She sighed. Really, she was crying because she knew their time together like this was coming to an end. Once they got her new identity and she was settled in place, she probably wouldn't see him again. And that- that was breaking her damn heart.

It hadn't taken very long since they'd gone on the run for her to realize how she felt. It was quite obvious, really. She was surprised she hadn't realized sooner. Every brush of their fingers, every gentle squeeze of her hand made her insides twist and her heart yell loudly it's you.

And when she'd run across the street into his car, scared out of her mind and just so, so elated to see him- he'd taken her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her cheek, and-

She was done for. Completely head over heels. And she hadn't said anything, so now they were stuck with carrying out this absolutely awful plan in which she undertook a new identity and never saw him again.

She blew her nose loudly, before remembering Red was probably still listening. He was probably still awake.

That thought made her pause.

He was probably still awake. Could she? Well, it was now or never, she decided; there was nothing really to lose apart from her dignity.

Quickly getting out of bed, she splashed some cool water on her face and fluffed out her hair. She gazed at her face in the mirror. It wasn't great. But then again, he'd seen her looking much worse.

She hesitated before the adjoining door, and then with a quick knock and not waiting for an answer, she walked in.

He wasn't asleep. He wasn't even in bed. He was, however, not wearing a shirt. Lizzie swallowed.

He had looked up from where he sat by the window when she'd come in, and now she was standing at the door not knowing exactly what she'd been thinking. Great job, Liz, she thought. This was not awkward at all.

But, thankfully, after his initial surprise, Red gestured for her to join him, pouring her a glass of whatever strong looking liquid he'd been drinking.

She accepted it gratefully, allowing her first sip to burn her throat and perhaps awaken some sort of inner courage she wasn't aware of.

"Sorry to barge in like that," she began, but he waved the apology away. She wished he'd been wearing a shirt, if only to give her eyes something to rest on other than... his bare chest. She tried to focus.

"You... did hear me crying," she began. "But it's not what you think."

"What do I think?" He asked, gently.

"You think- you think that I'm scared. Of something happening. But I'm not scared. Well, I am but- not of that."

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt.

She shifted awkwardly in her chair.

"I'm... oh god, why is this so hard?- I'm scared of... of leaving you, Red. Of what it will be like if I never see you again. I can't imagine it- I don't want to imagine it." Here she cast a pleading glance at him, willing him to understand her.

He set his glass down on the table. She wondered if he was going to laugh, or cry. She wondered which she was going to do.

He did neither. Instead, he reached across and took both of her hands in his. She felt her breath catch in her throat. Meeting her gaze calmly with his own, he said, "Well then, Lizzie. Don't imagine it. We will just have to think of a new plan."

She didn't at first understand. Was... Was he saying...?

Seeing her confused reaction, Red leaned forward until their faces were almost touching.

"You don't have to leave me, Lizzie," he added, placing a gentle kiss on the very corner of her mouth. "You don't ever have to leave."

[lifeofkaze]

October Writing Challenge - Day 15

My favourite Ravenclaw Beater of all times Katriona Cassiopeia is the OC of the most wonderful @kc-and-oc 💛💙

Lizzie didn’t like the way she was being looked at, she didn’t like it one bit.

She was used to being looked at, of course; she’d had ample time to get used to it since joining the Hufflepuff Quidditch team back in her second year; now, almost at the end of her sixth year, she didn’t even notice it anymore when she was out on the pitch.

But still, the critical look in the dark brown eyes, that were usually so warm and twinkling with laughter, made Lizzie almost want to shrink into herself.

“Why are you so unhappy?” she asked meekly. “I think it looks fabulous.”

The dark haired wizard who stood behind her clicked his tongue impatiently as he stared at Lizzie’s reflection in the floor length mirror he’d set up in the Ravenclaw Common Room.

“Oh, my dress does look fabulous, darling,” Andre Egwu, self-proclaimed style wizard, said. “I really outdid myself with it, if I may say so. But this,” he sighed and tugged at the tangled mess that was Lizzie’s hair, “it looks like you hopped straight off your broomstick before coming here.”

He threw his hands into the air at Lizzie’s guilty expression. “The ball for the seventh-years is in an hour! Why oh why can’t my job be easy for once?”

“Can’t let it stand when Skye says she’s faster than me,” Lizzie muttered, but Andre wasn’t even listening anymore. He had turned around and was rummaging through a bag for a brush and hairspray, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “Obstinate badgers…”

Lizzie sighed and turned her attention to her reflection again; Andre was right, the dress he’d made for her was gorgeous.

The navy blue chiffon fell fluently from the fitted top, accentuating her waist; the back of the dress was left open, and Lizzie felt the tips of her hair tickling between her exposed shoulder blades every time she moved. The yellow topaz necklace she wore every day sparkled against her skin, accentuated by the neckline Andre had chosen for her.

Her hair stood in stark contrast to the sophisticated beauty that was her dress, however; it was tousled from the wind, but it surely wasn’t as bad as Andre made it out to be. She reached up to gather it into her signature ponytail again, when Andre suddenly looked up sharply.

“Don’t you dare.”

Lizzie winced when Andre had finally located his brush and set to work; he wasn’t particularly gentle as he started combing the knots out of her hair.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, we can just pin it up and - ouch!” she cried out when Andre made short work of a particularly stubborn tangle.

“Believe me sweetheart, it is absolutely necessary.”

“Orion prefers it like it is anyway,” Lizzie muttered defiantly.

“You know I usually don’t agree with Andre. But this time, I’m afraid, he’s right,” Lizzie heard the voice of her friend Katriona Cassiopeia behind her.

She turned to see her redheaded Ravenclaw friend step out from the staircase that led up to her dormitory; she looked breathtaking in her black fit-and-flare gown. The fabric sparkled like the starry night sky when she moved, and she wore her Golden Snitch pin at the tip of her V-neckline.

KC walked over to them and stood next to Lizzie. “On the other hand, seeing as your date probably won’t even bother brushing his hair, you’d at least match that way, just like you should. Look at me,” she grinned, “my hair won’t look any less perfect than Murphy’s.”

KC wasn’t exaggerating; much unlike Lizzie’s, her red hair fell in perfect curls over her back, not one single strand out of place.

The Ravenclaw Beater chuckled and playfully nudged Lizzie. “Murphy’s hair won’t be trumped tonight, but I guess you prefer the messy, dirty hippie hair anyway, so you’re probably all good.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her laughter.

“It’s not dirty,” she protested and playfully swatted KC, “stop saying that all the time. It smells very good if you want to know, and it’s very soft. But I guess you prefer the hairspray addict, so you’re probably all good, too.”

“I wouldn’t go near McNully with anything flammable, but his hairstyle is impeccable,” Andre offered his opinion, but was silenced by KC’s look.

“I definitely would go near you with something flammable,” she muttered, making Lizzie giggle again.

“Seriously though, I wouldn’t even know what to do with Murphy,” Lizzie said as she watched Andre putting pins into her hair. “I’d cut myself trying to run my hands though this marblework he calls hair. Orion’s hair, on the other hand, is perfect for messing with.”

“So his soft, soft, hair smells so good and you love nothing more than running your hands though it?” KC said innocently.

Lizzie blushed when she saw the knowing grin forming on KC’s face; that had come out all wrong.

“That’s not what I meant,” she protested.

“The lady doth protest too much. It’s totally what you meant,” KC laughed, “and you will spill all your secrets right now.”

Andre was satisfied with Lizzie’s hair by now and KC lost no time to pull her friend along to the exit of Ravenclaw Tower.

“The hell I will,” Lizzie laughed, the treacherous blush still covering her cheeks.

“Let’s see what you say after we get ourselves some drinks.”

“Then I propose information for information,” Lizzie smirked. “We wouldn’t want things to be unbalanced, would we?”

Both girls chuckled at Lizzie’s choice of words as they marched down towards the Great Hall to meet their dates for the night, the heels of their shoes clacking on the stone floor in perfect unison.

“Consider this a deal then, Jameson.”

[dontshootmespence]

A Shared Love

Summary: Spencer and Dorian follow through on their coffee date; they agree not to talk books anymore so Spencer doesn’t accidentally spoil anything again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Dorian Loker

Word Count: 810

Warning: None. Just fluff.

A/N: This fulfills my Reid/Loker bingo square for @cmbingo​. @illegalcerebral​ asked for a fic where they grab that coffee.

Dark-stained bookshelves lined the brick walls of the coffee shop Dorian had chosen. Though warm and cozy, the book jackets spanned every color of the rainbow. “I love this place,” she said. “They make the best coffee, it’s always quiet and the baker that works in the back - he’s my friend from high school and he makes the absolute best raspberry, cinnamon swirl muffins I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Have you had a lot of those?” Spencer asked, smiling as he allowed her to go ahead of him in line. 

Dorian snorted with laughter. “Don’t be a smartass!”

“I can’t help it.” He smirked, his mouth scrunching up as he blushed. “How do you take your coffee when you don’t have a to have crappy stakeout coffee?”

Smiling, she crooked her find behind her, coaxing Spencer to follow her to the counter. “Hi, Brian. Aiden here today?”

“Yea, working on a new recipe. Wanna wait for that or you want something he’s already made?” Despite Spencer’s issues with meeting new people, he did feel welcome here. 

Dorian ordered a large, hot coffee with two pumps of hazelnut, whipped cream on top and sprinkles, as well as one of those muffins she’d mentioned. “What about you, Spencer?”

Stepping forward, he responded. “I think I’ll also have one of those muffins. Those sound really good and for the coffee, I’ll just take a large coffee with milk and I’ll put the sugar in myself because, well, I take a lot of it.”

“How much is a lot?” Dorian asked as they stepped to the side to let someone else order.

Spencer regaled her with the many stories of how his friends made fun of his drinking his sugar with a splash of coffee. “So, yea...a lot.”

After a few minutes, both their orders were ready and they headed over to two worn, auburn-colored chairs. “Okay, so we can’t talk books,” Dorian started, “otherwise, I might get spoilers again.”

“Sorry,” he laughed.

“No big deal.” Dorian practically plopped into the chair and laughed. “So how about music, movies, that type of thing?”

“Well, I love Beethoven and Mozart. Your typical classical music, but I also enjoy Tchaikovsky, Wagner, Brahms-”

“Not that kind of music. Like popular music.”

At first, Spencer really couldn’t think of anything. He never really listened to the radio. “Okay, you might not believe it, but I’m a big fun of metal. I started listening as a teenager. I mean yes, I was in college at the time, but I was also a lonely kid and really angsty so I started listening to Iron Maiden and then I became so obsessed with the style that I sought out anyone I could - Metallica, Anthrax, Saxon -”

“What about Judas Priest, Thin Lizzy, Metal Church?” Dorian asked excitedly, practically sitting on the edge of her seat. “You like metal? I-Spencer I think this might be the beginning of a beautiful relationship, I mean if you want it to be a relationship-”

“I do.” 

For the next two hours, they talked about their favorite albums and songs. Dorian preferred Thin Lizzy’s “Shades of a Blue Orphanage” over their self-titled album, while Spencer was the other way around. They both love Metal Church’s “Blessing in Disguise” out of all their other albums. Where they really differed was who is the greatest metal band over all. “Metallica,” Spencer said.

“Black Sabbath.” 

“Metallica!”

“Black Sabbath!”

They had to agree to disagree. “Do you want to try one of those new, it looks like cookies, your friend Aiden made? I just saw him bring them up front. My treat?”

“Absolutely,” Dorian replied. “Oh my god, they look chocolate-y. Aiden, what are these?”

Apparently, they were something he’d been working on for quite some time. He called them his Chocolate, Caramel Salted Cookie Bombs because they were giant and had crushed pretzels in them. “It took me forever to get the right balance of pretzels and salt to everything else. Because at first they were way too dry.”

“Well, they’re amazing now,” Spencer said with his mouth full. “As a matter of fact, can I get an extra one to go?”

Dorian gave him a dirty look. “You don’t put on any weight ever, do you?” 

“Rarely. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t deny myself. I just try not to overindulge.”

Once Spencer had paid for their extra goodies, they began walking toward the shop’s exit. “So, Spencer, would you wanna do this again some time?”

Spencer leaned back in the doorway and reached out for Dorian’s hand, surprising even himself. “I’d love that. Maybe next time you can come to my place? I have an old record player and most of the albums we talked about.”

“That sounds amazing. Black Sabbath first.”

Grasping her hand tightly, he smiled as they walked out. “Then Metallica.”

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Day 27

Prompt: Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

Word Count: 995

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01,​​​ @spoopy-turtle,​​​ @lizluvscupcakes,​​ @more-fandon-than-friends​, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo, @the-sympathetic-villain, @8-writes, @lizzy-lineart, @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun, sirprplsnail

Soulmate taglist:(Send an ask to be added or removed!) @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, @mikalya12, @8-writes, @lizzy-lineart

CW: animal mention, vampire mention, food mention.

Virgil ignored the stares he was getting, used to them by now. As he had to live his life with red eyes, he’d had to get used to the stares quite quickly. He felt worse for his parents, who had to deal with questions of why they would let their child wear colored contacts and the effects they could have on him. His mom had to hold his ren back from tearing a person’s head off. Instead, she would just calmly inform them that red hair occurs naturally too.

In his teen years, it was seen as a rebellion to have red eyes. Some of his teachers even tried to say he wasn’t allowed in the classroom unless he ‘took the contacts out’. Those times, his mom didn’t hold his ren back from verbally tearing into the teacher about how it was against school policy and freedom of expression to tell him he couldn’t wear something that wasn’t bothering anyone else and this was how genuine aids got taken away from the people who needed them. Next the teacher would be saying that kids couldn’t have tassels on their backpacks as it would be disruptive. Once his ren had gotten their rant over, they informed Virgil’s teacher that his soulmate most likely had red hair. The teacher never mentioned it again.

Halfway through his teen years, Virgil just decided to roll with it. If people were going to stare at him, he was going to give them something to stare at. So, he dyed his hair a dark purple that almost passed as black, claiming it was payback to his soulmate. By the time he was fully settled in his style, he looked like the vampire he was so often confused for with how red his eyes were.

Thus, he didn’t pay attention when the customer kept staring at him as he tried to restock the ferret food section. He smiled, wiggling his fingers at the little guys before moving on. He began the routine feeding of the fish when he heard footsteps near him.

“You!” He turned to find a redhead with purple eyes hidden behind black wire frames pointing angrily at him.

Virgil thinned his lips and raised his eyebrows. “Me,” he said disinterestedly, moving to go back to feeding the fish.

“You’re the one who’s made me have purple eyes for the past ten years!”

Virgil nodded. “Sir, as you’re assuming you’re my soulmate, I will inform you that there is no way we can hold an actual conversation as I’m currently working. If you would like to have the conversation of who had to deal with the worse eyes for the longer time, I would suggest you come back at five as that’s when I get off.” He smiled, flashing his dark red eyes at him before moving to a different tank.

His soulmate stepped back, tugging slightly on the leash of a large canine. “Alright, I’ll be back then.”

True to his word, Virgil clocked out and exited the building to find the man from before standing there, no dog in sight. He stepped forward and reached out his hand for a handshake. “I’m sorry, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. See, I was having a hard day and took it out on you in a way that was completely unacceptable. For that I apologize. Would you allow me to buy you a hot beverage to make up for it?”

‘Oh, he’s adorable’ was the first thought in Virgil’s mind as he reached to shake the man’s hand. “That sounds perfect, thank you.” He was exhausted after his shift and could use the pick me up. They fell in step beside each other as they walked to the coffee shop down the way. “I’m Virgil.” He said as a way of starting a conversation.

“My name is Logan.” Silence descended until they’d gotten their drinks and slid into a booth. Logan cupped his drink in both hands. “Again, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I know it was my fault.”

Virgil shrugged. “To be fair, I snapped right back so I don’t think you can claim it was entirely your fault.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have come on so strong.”

“Eh, agree to disagree.” Virgil shifted in his seat, taking the time to drink from his cup. “So, how about you tell me about the struggles of living with purple eyes?”

Logan shook his head, a smile forming. “It’s not been the worst thing to happen to me. I mean, at the very least it’s an interesting conversation starter.”

Virgil laughed. “I wish I could say the same about the red eyes.”

Logan winced slightly. “Sorry, that must have been difficult for you.”

“Oh, you know, just a few people not understanding that red haired toddlers exist. Or red haired teens. So, the vampire aesthetic was a direct combatant to that.”

Logan looked up at him. “If it’s any consolation, I think the aesthetic suits you.”

“Thank you. I have to say, I like the red hair more than I thought I would.”

Their conversation went on, changing from hair and eyes to animals and jobs. Soon, they were knee deep in a discussion of which Greek constellation truly deserved it’s fate. Theirs was a match made in heaven and they got along like a house on fire. They stayed in that coffee shop until they were kicked out at closing and soon it was a normal thing for them to meet up every Friday after Virgil’s shift and walk to the coffee shop, talking as long as they were allowed.

Soon, it was progressing to every Tuesday and Friday, then practically every day. Virgil began to rely on Logan, being excited to see him at the end of his shift. It was no surprise to anyone when they started dating a few months after meeting and were married by the end of the year.