#2) hire a make up team to make me look like every fruity man in the history of cinema

[kimjunnoodle]

at the Gender bar and the bartender notices me. "The usual?" he says, reaching for a vial of estrogen. "Naw, I'm off the stuff." I reply. He looks surprised for a moment and reaches to a cabinet and pulls out A vial of testosterone. "Enjoy, Sir."

[samiwritesalot]

HIRED ! N.H

HIRED ! NIALL HORAN FEMALE READER X NIALL HORAN

SUMAMRY:  The management team hires Niall a girlfriend after some alligations come out about the man.                 WORD COUNT: 1.4k                 WARNINGS: cussing, false relationship,                 A/N: this is placed back when they boys where a band and we had stupid fics like this. Set back in 2016! this is also my first fanfic i've posted, so please be nice heheh!

She thought it was a fake ad a first. There’s no way their management team scouted her out to be Niall’s “girlfriend”, but they found her on YouTube, messaging her and making her go through some tests before finally deciding she was perfect. Now, here she was 2 months later, meeting Niall and the gang.

“Hey love” Harry smiled and waved at her as she entered the room. “This is y/n. We’ve hired her to date Niall because we keep hearing rumors that people think he’s a little…” Simon trailed off, not knowing the right words to use. “Fruity. Anyways, she’s here to fix those rumors. I need both of you on the cover of some magazine by next Friday. I don’t care how, or what you do. I expect success.” Niall and the other boys nodded in agreement, as Simon smiled, turned around and left you alone and exposed with five strangers. “Well, Hi.” Liam was the first to speak, extending his hand you shyly extending your hand and shaking his.

Niall finally looked at you smiling softly as he glanced you up and down. You felt a blush come to your cheeks, rubbing your arm with your hand. “You like Nandos?” He finally questioned, you nodding your head in aggrement. “My favorite” You smiled as the man gestured towards the empty seat beside him. “If you don’t l like this or want your own, We can” You cut off the blond headed boy, smiling brightly. “No, this is perfect.” You smiled, as he handed you a half wrapped burger he had cut in half. “Thank you.”

The next morning, Niall got a call bright at early at exactly 7:45. You where awake 5 minutes later needing to be at Simon’s office in the next 10 minutes. “Y/N, wake up. We have to meet Simon soon.” Niall softly shook you, you just waving him off. “Seriously, we can’t be late. He hates tardiness.” Nail ripped the covers off you, your hair getting all over your face, you left pouting. Niall laughed when he saw you, before throwing you one of his shirts. “Here You’ll have to wear your jeans you wore yesterday, we can go shopping later.” He commanded, as you sat up on the couch he had let you sleep on, slipping on your pants that slept in front of you. “Can you um, turn around?” You questioned, Niall nodding as he quickly turned around. You quickly threw his shirt over your shoulder, a blue and white striped one along with sitting up and finishing pulling up your pants.

Meanwhile, Niall was telling you about plans for the day. “Simon will probably just make us know the rules, make us post, tweet and shit like that a certain number of times a week. Make us sign a contract, this isn’t my first rodeo” He explained, stopping to take a sip of his coffee. “You’re good.” You stated, throwing your hair up in a messy ponytail, walking over to the kitchen to get your own cup of coffee.

“What do you mean; this isn’t your first rodeo?” Opening random cabinets trying to find some mugs, you questioned him, him just laughing. “It’s the one above the stove. And just like, they make me do this so often. He really hates ‘fruity’ rumors I guess” He shrugged, blowing on his coffee before taking a sip of his coffee.  “So, what do we have to do?” Questioning what the rules where, and how long you where about to ‘date’ him. “Usually, it’s 6 months and then we come back and re-evaluate how we’re doing and want to continue. Simon will explain the rules, those change every time.” Niall continued explaining, you sipping on your coffee. “Okay, Boyfriend.” She nudged him slightly giggling, Niall rolling his eyes.

“This is going to be an interesting 6 months” He laughed, setting his mug down as his alarm went off on his phone. “We got to go, now.” He rushed, grabbing your cup straight out of your hands, placing it in the sink. “Wha- I wasn’t” “Sorry. I’ll buy you another one later, promise.” He apologized, grabbing your hand, leading you to the car.

Now in the parking lot of ‘Rock Records’ Niall parking the car and looking at you. “I know you’ve met him, but still just agree with everything his says, sign the contract. He could make your life a living hell if you piss him off” Niall rushed, getting out of the car you following him. “No, No.” He scoffed, rushing over to your side, pushing you back into the car. “I open the doors for you now, always.” He stated, “People could be around at any point.” He helped you get out of the car, before closing it behind you. Placing a hand on the lower part of your back, he led you into the building, everyone saying hi to him and waving at you.

“Smile” He whispered, through gritted teeth, a smile instantly planted on your face. Mumbling Hi’s and waving as you walked by and finally made it to the elevator with him. “Welcome to the world of Pop stars, you got to be on your toes at all times.”  He pressed the 20th floor button and the elevator went up. Once up far enough, the elevator was clear glass, being able to see the parking lot, along with the mountains on the hills. “How beautiful” You gasped, watching as the sun shined over the mountains and perfectly over the building.

“Come on,” Niall grabbed your arm and dragged you for what felt like the millionth time and led you to a huge office. Simon greeted you at the elevator, smiling widely as he came into view. “Ahhh, Niall! Y/N! Nice to see you too, you already make such a good couple” He smiled, clapping his hands together afterwards.

“Now, follow me this way.” He extended his arms pointing to his office, following behind you both. “Hold hands. Stand closer. God, Niall you should know this by now.” Simon scolded, rolling his eyes. Niall let out a soft scoff before stepping in front of you, opening his office doors for you. “Thank you” You softly praised, before ducking into the office. “Now you’re getting it.” Simon patted Niall on the shoulder as he entered.

What felt like hours later but was in reality 45 minutes, Simon has went over the rules and procedures, what he expects of you, how many times you have to make a presence together, so on and so on. You signed the contract, as Simon and Niall explain the contract and what everything means. You just nodded through it, hoping to have a paper copy to re-read yourself later.

“So, 6 months is normal. After that we’ll re-discuss and see where we want to go from there.” Simon explained, handing you another paper. “You must go out when the boys do, interviews, club appearances, shopping everywhere. You two must go out at least 5 times a week, as a couple. Seen  at least seen by paparazzi. Nothing special  or anything.” You just nodded your head, quickly reading over the paragraphs on the paper as Simon explained. You signed where the red marks where, along with Niall signing underneath it. “With your YouTube channel, you don’t need to make it all about Niall but I want at least a few video appearances. For his publicity and yours.”

The rules continued for another hour or so before Simon flipped over the last paper. “-finally here. And Here” Simon pointed, you both signing away. “Here’s your credit card, y/n. It will reload every week your pay will be determined, but will start out around $25 an hour” He simple stated, handing you a silver credit card. “Simon, come on.” Niall blushed, rolling his eyes. You reluctantly took the card, slipping it into your jean pocket. “Okay. If you need anything im a text away” He started collecting all he papers together, before screaming ahh and opening his desk drawer. “A phone. Throw away your other one, save your family’ obviously and friends but besides that this is your new one. Pre-Loaded with phone numbers of the boys, instagram handle and following and a twitter page with selfies from old social medias.”

You opened the phone, everything pre-loaded like Simon said. “Now, you can go.” He shooed you both off you shoving the new phone in your pocket smiling as you walked out of the office. “Act like a couple! Hold hands!” Simon sreamed as the two of you exited before the door closed. Niall instantly reached for your hand, intertwing his fingers with yours. This, you could get used to.

[moving-accounts-uwu]

Right Where You Were Meant To Be (Bucky x Plus-size!Reader)

Fandom: Marvel 

Characters: Bucky x Plus-size!reader

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, body-shaming

Story type: One-shot

Word count: 2.7k words 

Summary: Reader has a crush on Bucky the second she looked at him but she also has feelings of self-consciousness about her body and doubts she’d ever end up with Bucky or any guy like Bucky. That all changes one night at one of Tony’s parties.

(A/N: This is a cute little one-shot idea I had and just wanted to write out. I feel there aren’t many plus-size!reader stories so I wanted to make my own. I’m a chubby girl and felt like I needed some love, lmao. Any mistakes I take responsibility for, this story wasn’t beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!! Also, the gif isn’t mine, but he just looks so precious <3)

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It all started when you looked at him for the first time. He had just moved into the Tower, and you had just gotten the job as Tony's new assistant since Pepper had become CEO of Stark Industries. Because you worked in an environment with superheroes who were very fit and healthy, you had become self-conscious of yourself; whether it would be what you wore, the things you ate, or just how your body looked in general. 

Being a bigger girl, it often took a toll on your mental health when you would notice the glances, the whispering, the judgmental stares, and how shopping for clothes in your size was difficult, and it made you feel like you had to lose weight to fit in and belong. You felt alone and isolated. 

You didn't have any friends; you didn't even talk to many of your co-workers, and just kept to yourself a majority of the time. When Bucky moved in, you noticed he did the same. He didn't speak much to the rest of the team, he mostly stayed in his room, and only hung around Steve. Bucky was very fit, and his muscular body showed it whenever he wore tight-fitted clothing. You would never wear tight-fitted clothing for fear of having your plumpness accentuated.

After five months working for Tony and having a more friendly relationship with the rest of the team, you had built a few close bonds with some of the heroes. Wanda and Natasha were your closest girlfriends and would regularly have 'Lady's Nights' every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Tony, Clint, Sam, and Steve were like your older brothers and would look out for you. 

You and Steve made it a routine to do small exercise and yoga in the afternoons just after 4 o'clock. How this all started was because you wanted to accomplish small goals for yourself, as Sam told you to do to help with your mental health.

"Steve," You called out as you stepped into the Tower's gym, the one place you knew where to find Steve if he wasn't in the common room.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! What's up?" Steve turned to face you as he held the punching bag still while he watched you walk closer to him, noticing you fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

"I just... I wanted to start doing light exercises, you know, to boost my endorphins, and so I have something to do in the afternoons when I've finished with work." It wasn't a complete lie, but it just sugar-coated the fact that you just wanted to lose weight to gain confidence in yourself.

Steve had agreed to help you; he wouldn't push you too much either because he didn't want you to strain anything and not push you out of your comfort zone too much. Both of you would exercise for an hour each day in the afternoons. This routine had been going on for six weeks, and you were enjoying it. You felt better about yourself each week when you would check your progress and write down how much you lost during the week; you were more confident than you were all those weeks ago before asking Steve for help.

During one of those afternoon exercises, you and Steve were both in the Adho Mukha pose with Steve wearing his usual tight t-shirt that you swore was a size too small, and shorts while you wore a loose, black tank top, and tight-fitted leggings that complemented the shape of your plump ass. You were so in the zone that you hadn't heard the gym doors open and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you. Bucky stood behind you and Steve, him getting an eyeful of your butt while he cleared his throat to catch his best friend's attention. 

"Hey, Bucky! I didn't notice you were there. (Y/N) and I were doing some yoga, would you like to join us?" 

You. Were. Mortified. You quickly stood up beside Steve and looked down at your feet, trying to avoid looking at Bucky after having your ass practically in his face. 

"Uh, I kinda have to get ready for 'Girl's Night' tonight, but I think Bucky can keep you company." You nervously spoke, having your words jumble out quickly due to your inner-embarrassment. "I'll see you later, Steve!"

You bolted out of the gym as fast as your legs could go and made it up into your room without another incident. When you flopped onto your bed, you let out a loud, exhausted sigh before closing your eyes shut tightly. 'Why did I have to act like a nervous wreck? You didn't even let him talk for Christ's sake!' After beating yourself up over the little incident, you started to get ready for 'Girl's Night' with Nat and Wanda. 

It was two hours into 'Girl's Night' and you, Nat and Wanda had, at least, drank four glasses of Kraken Rum and about three shots of Vodka. You were more relaxed and carefree, enjoying your time with your best friends while gossiping about an episode of Criminal Minds you all saw the other day together. 

"Not gonna lie, I would love to have a man like Morgan. Have you seen his muscles? And how he kicks down doors like a badass?" You gushed.

"That is true, and I fully believe Morgan and Garcia should be together. They have chemistry and look so cute!" Wanda loved her Morgan and Garcia ship. 

"Eh, I like to have a super cute genius but that's just my opinion" Nat took a sip of her fruity vodka drink while shrugging her shoulders.

"Of course you would, you're with Bruce and that's a little bias, Nat." You gently shoved your red-haired friend playfully. 

You and Wanda giggled like school girls when Natasha scoffed before she pointed an accusing finger at you.

"Well, says you, (Y/N)! You practically drool whenever you see Barnes."

That shut you up quickly. 'How does she know?! Play it off'

"That's very funny Nat, but I don't know what you mean."

"Don't bullshit me, (Y/N). I've seen the way your cheeks get all pink and how your eyes are glued to him whenever he walks by. You're so smitten it's grossly cute." Then Wanda turned to you with a small smirk on her face.

"Maybe you should ask him to work out with you and Steve!"

Flashbacks of your embarrassment earlier that day made your face go pale. 'Absolutely not'. You shook your head furiously, staring at your two friends with fear. There was no way you'd have the guts to do such a thing, not after how you acted around him before. Plus, you didn't want him to look at you with disgust when he looks at you working out. You shake off all the negative thoughts before finishing off your last bits of rum.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Tony wants me to help him organize and plan a gala party to celebrate his newest project. And when I say to 'help him' I mean I'll be doing most of the work while he hides away in his lab with Bruce." You said before walking off and waving the girls goodbye.

2 weeks later...

You had most of the gala planned out. You had booked a cute catering company to organize some food dishes for everyone and even hired a group of people to decorate one of the large common rooms that would fit all the guests on Tony's guest-list. You had even bought a cute new dress to wear for the party. The party was starting that night at 7:30 and you would hopefully get everything done while having an hour and a half to spare to get ready. 

When the decorating and planning finished, you quickly made your way to your room and got showered and changed. You stood in front of your mirror for quite some time, nitpicking every flaw you could see, judging your appearance because you knew how the other women at the party were going to look flawless and have every man swooping in for them. A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your negative thoughts.

"(Y/n), you ready?" Wanda's voice called from the other side.

"Y-yeah! I'm coming now." You dashed for the door to get away from the mirror so you can't put yourself down even more. Once opening the door, Wanda linked your arm with hers, and both of you walked toward the elevator. 

Telling FRIDAY which floor, you both arrived just as a few of the guests were mingling around; drinking, eating, and chatting. You glanced around, hoping to see the familiar faces of your friends, spotting Sam, Nat, and Clint near the bar where Natasha was serving the drinks. Tony was standing next to Pepper and being an absolute flirt as always while Steve and Bucky were standing near a corner with drinks in hand. Before you could make your way over to the bar, Wanda told you to wait where you were while she goes to quickly touch up her make-up, disappearing before you could say a word. You stood there awkwardly and looked around, making sure everything was going swimmingly until you felt a presence behind you. A tap on your confirmed that someone was indeed behind you.

You turned around to see a group of two slender women and three muscular men staring at you with smug and cocky smiles on their faces.

"Can we get some more drinks? And make them with a little more alcohol this time." One of the men quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to scurry off to grab their drinks.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not part of catering. I'm-"

"You certainly look it though, I mean, you're not dressed like you're here as a guest. The dress you're wearing looks like the other catering staff." A woman spat, her eyes narrowed at you. You started to feel self-conscious about your outfit now, realizing the color-scheme looked very similar to the catering staff.

"Plus, the dress isn't that flattering for your body hun. We can practically see your muffin top and panty lines with how tight that dress is on you." The other woman commented while she leaned to the side to glance at more of your plush figure.

A stinging sensation began to appear behind your eyes, feelings of doubt, and an anxiety attack began to make themselves known. So looked away from the group and quickly made for the elevator, shooting Wanda a quick text saying you weren't feeling too well. 'How stupid of me to think I even looked good or that I could fit in at the party.' By the time the elevator doors reached your floor and the doors opened, hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you tried to furiously wipe them away with zero results. The tears kept flowing down as you began to walk down the hallway to your room; quiet footsteps barely making noise as they followed you. Just as your hand settled on the door handle, a warm hand clasped onto your shoulder gently. With a yelp, you spun around with a jump to look at your "attacker", only to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring at your teary eyes intensely. 

Bucky's eyes held hints of concern and worry, but it was hard to see because he was good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that your eyes were blurry from crying.

"You okay, (Y/n)? I saw you leave the party quickly and noticed how fast your breathing was." Bucky had to look down at you because he was so tall, or was it because you were just very short?

"I'm fine, Bucky. I just don't do well in crowded places or with so many strangers. I got a bit overwhelmed but it's fine now." You weakly smiled but he could see right through it, he always did.

"You had a panic attack after speaking to a group of people, and judging by the looks they gave you while talking to them, I can only believe it wasn't a pleasant conversation." Bucky then brought both his flesh and metal hands to cup your face while he peered into your eyes more. "Tell me what happened, doll." 

You sighed, you knew he wasn't going to let this go. Even though you both barely spoke to each other, he still cared for you like the both of you knew each other for years. Something about his calm voice and caring nature helped your nerves settle.

"They thought I was part of catering and asked if I could get them more drinks. I told them I wasn't catering, only for them to make snarky comments about my outfit and body. But it's fine, I'm used to having those comments made to me, I've dealt with those types of people all my life." Your hands gently held his and tried to move them away from your face but Bucky didn't budge. 

"You don't believe them, right? I mean, I think the dress looks good on you. It shows off your curves and any man who doesn't get blown away is blind."

You gave a humorless laugh and shook your head at Bucky, looking down at the floor.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me, Buck. We both know girls like me don't belong in a place like this, or a party like that. You can go back to the party, I don't want to waste more of your time." You went to turn away when Bucky held your upper arms tightly.

"Not a chance, doll. I'm not a fan of crowds myself and was about to leave the party myself until I saw you run away. I'd rather spend my time with you and making sure you don't ever think that you don't belong."

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, his stare was intense with adoration and love while you stared at him in shock that he'd want to spend time with you. Before you could blink, Bucky leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours, his arms wrapping around you and caging you into a warm and gentle embrace. Your hands rested onto his firm chest while his hands rested on your lower back, just above your butt. At first, you were in shock but then you gave in to the kiss and snaked your arms around his neck, your fingers embedded into his long hair. 

The kiss was full of passion, and so much love that you didn't think it was possible. When the need for air was too much, you both separated and looked into each other's eyes once again.

"H-how? Why me? We barely know each other!"

"Because, (Y/n), I've been smitten for you since I first laid eyes on you but didn't have the guts to tell you. Steve's been a punk and trying to get me to join your work out sessions for weeks but I was too nervous to do it." Bucky's cheeks tinted red as he chuckled.

"And why's that? I was scared that if saw me working out, that you'd be grossed out by my body." You explained, chewing on your bottom lip.

"I could never be grossed out, sweetheart. I love a woman with curves and plumpness to her. I was nervous that if I watched you work out, I would try to make a move on you too fast and scare you away. I didn't want that to happen." Bucky grabbed your chin and leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours. "And you looked downright sexy in those tights, they shape your ass well."

You gasped and lightly smacked his shoulder while he smirked at you. His playfulness coming through. You made the first move this time and got onto your tippy toes to kiss him. This is was quicker than the first but still held the same emotions. With so much strength you underestimated he had, Bucky lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he opened your door and carried you over to your bedroom. Both of you watched a bunch of movies in your room; many kisses were shared before you both passed out, cuddled up under your fluffy blankets, safe in Bucky's arms. Right where you were meant to be all along.

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Thanks for reading!!! <3 <3 <3

[queen-of-deans-booty]

You Can’t Escape Your Past P.1

Characters: Bodyguard!Dean x Chef!Reader, Sam (mentioned)

Word Count: 3,399

Warnings: Alright, now this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for.This chapter does contain smut. Oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), fluff for the most part, sorry if I didn’t add anything else.

Request: You and Dean take a much needed vacation to Cape Town for your two year anniversary. You thought it would be perfect and everything you ever wanted. What happens when your past decided to catch up with you?

Author’s Note: This is for @dancingalone21‘s Summer Escape Challenge! This is the first part of a 4 or 5 part mini series! If you want to be tagged, leave an ask or message and I’ll add you! Same goes for my Series Rewrite! If you want to request a fic, please send them in! I love writing what you guys want!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

Ah, Summer. The season was filled with kids, pools, beaches, and most importantly, spending time with your amazing boyfriend, Dean Winchester. You’ve had a ton of summers with this man but only one of them was special: this one.

It was your two-year anniversary and you couldn’t have been happier. You met him through his brother, Sam. You and Sam were friends in high school and even though you didn’t go to the same college, you still met up afterwards and then, you met Dean.

Some may call it love at first sight but you didn’t believe in any of that. You believe in two people slowly falling in love, getting to know one another and make sure they are comfortable with each other. That is honestly how it worked with you and Dean.

You were friends for years and then he had Sam’s help making a move on you which you thought was the best and most sweet thing ever. You went on a lot of dates and before you knew it, it’s been two years and you were madly in love with him. Granted, you still didn’t know some things about you and he definitely didn’t know some things about you.

But every day that passes, it gives you the opportunity to learn more about one another and become stronger as a team. That is why for your anniversary, Dean decided to take you somewhere special for the summer. You had no idea what he was planning but it was huge, considering how much effort he and Sam spent, trying to keep this away from you.

You weren’t too worried about it since you and Dean held very good jobs. So, money probably wouldn’t be an issue. You were an executive chef at one of your favorite restaurants when you were growing up. Your parents took your family out to eat a lot and almost always, you would go to L' Artusi in New York City. Now you were the head chef there.

Dean, on the other hand was a bodyguard for a lot of people. Some famous ones that you weren’t allowed to talk about but also for places like clubs or somewhere where they would need a bodyguard. You definitely loved a man in uniform and Dean was very sexy as hell.

So, no, money wouldn’t be an issue with this trip but you still would have liked to know where you were going on such short notice. You’ve been a chef at your current place for 10 years and rarely have you ever asked for a break. So, when you suggested that you take some time off to be with your boyfriend, they practically shoved you out the door and told you to not return until you’ve gotten a little tanner.

You figured Dean would take you to a beach since the beach was your number one favorite thing to do every summer. But you weren’t going to a beach in New York, no. You weren’t going to a beach in California where Sam and his wife lived, no. You were going somewhere you’ve always wanted to go.

Cape Town.

You’ve heard wonderful things about that place and you’ve always wanted to go but you’ve been so busy with work, always hiring and firing people and Dean was always working that you hadn’t had time to pick out a date and go. But this year, you were and it was going to be the best year ever, despite what was going on around the rest of the world.

You were going to have the time of your life, spend a lot time with the man you loved and enjoy a stress-free week with the only thing you would have to worry about is how much sunscreen you were going to use.

“Dean, I can’t believe you brought me here. I love you so much.” You grinned, leaning over and pressing your lips to his. He hummed, content with kissing you here but the car stopped and he pulled away.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we will have plenty of time for that.” He smirked, winking at you before getting out of the car. You followed and the driver got out, walking to the trunk and opening it for you. You smiled at him and grabbed your bags, Dean grabbing his.

“The key to the place will be underneath the plant closest to the door.” The driver said with a smile.

“Thank you for driving us all the way here.” You said, taking out a few twenties and handing it to him.

“You’re welcome. Oh, and the car you requested is in the garage along with the key inside the house.” The driver said and got back in the car. You grinned at Dean and stared at the beautiful glass beach house in front of you. The next beach house was at least a hundred yards away which was perfect because it gave you a sense of privacy if you wanted to hang out at the beach after dark.

You walked to the house, using the key that was under the plant closest to the door. You walked inside and gasped, taking in its beauty.

“Oh, Dean, this is perfect.” You smiled widely, immediately walking upstairs to the bedroom to put down your suitcase. You were going to be living in this house for a week, just enjoying each other’s company and enjoying a relaxing mini vacation.

“I knew you would like it.” Dean grinned, pressing his body against yours. He moved some hair away from your neck and kissed it from behind, snaking his arms around your waist to lock you in. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and laid your head on his shoulder, taking what he was giving to you.

“Dean…” You half moaned, loving the feel of his lips on yours.

“What?” He whispered, sucking on the spot he knew you loved.

“I have to pee.” You pushed him away and he smirked, licking his lips.

“Tease.” He said with a wink. You giggled and found the bathroom easily, doing what you had to do. When you were all finished, you didn’t find Dean in the bedroom.

“Dean?” You called out, walking out of the room. You looked into the spacious living room over the stairs but didn’t see him at all.

“Dean? Where are you?” You called out, walking around the downstairs.

“Babe!” You heard him call from the garage. You smiled and found him checking out the sweet ass car the owners left for you to use. It was no Impala but it was a beautiful newer car of his. It was an Impala but instead of it being made in 1967, it was made in 2017.

“Wow, an Impala. Maybe this might be better than your car, Dean.” You grinned, teasing the hell out of him.

“Take that back.” Dean said seriously, standing up straight.

“Make me.” You said, challenging him. It took him .2 seconds to grasp your words and before you knew it, he was sprinting at you. You squealed and ran out of the garage, back into the house. You ran into the living room but Dean was too fast for you and fell on the couch with you, pinning you underneath him.

“You want me to make you?” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, I do.” You barely got the words out before Dean was pushing his lips on yours. You moaned appreciatively and kissed him back, inviting his tongue in. While his tongue massaged yours, his hands was massaging the tops of your thighs, pushing them higher, up your skirt you chose to wear.

Dean detached his lips from yours but placed them on your jaw, kissing down your neck while his hands placed themselves where you wanted him most.

“Dean, baby, as much as I love this, I am starving. The plane ride made me very hungry.” You moaned out when the tips of his fingers brushed against your clit.

“We will continue this tonight.” Dean said as he pulled away.

“Yes, we will.” Dean said, pecking your lips before sitting up, bringing you with him.

“So, I was thinking we go to some restaurant and then when we get home, maybe have a few glasses of wine on the beach before settling back inside.” You said, trailing a hand down his chest.

“Deal.” He said with a smirk.

Dean drove you to one of the best restaurants in town. He was just glad he got to drive the new car. Newer cars were exciting when all he drove was the beautiful shiny beauty. The newer cars were exciting every once in a while. Dean had to make reservations and when you got there, your table was already ready.

“Damn, Dean, you amaze me every day.” You said, grinning from side to side. You sat down at the table and the hostess brought you the wine list which you took.

“I may be amazing but your cooking is more amazing than this place.” Dean said with a smile, not bothering to look at the menu yet.

“Thank you, Dean. So very supportive.” You giggled, looking into his eyes.

“Hello, my name is Wendy and I will be your waitress for tonight. May I start you off with something from our wine list?”

Dinner ended too quick and it was still early out so that is why you found yourself sitting at the beach with Dean, leaning against his chest with yet another glass of wine.

“Are you sure you’ll be sober for tonight?” Dean asked, pulling you in tighter.

“Of course, I’ve only had three glasses of wine. This being my third. You know it takes a lot to get me drunk as shit.” You laughed, remembering some of the good times you had with your old pals’ tequila and vodka.

“Right, yeah, if I remember correctly, someone was trying to show off and almost fell off the bar she was dancing on.” Dean said with a chuckle. Dean wasn’t much of a wine drinker but he would have a glass or two with you but only if you were drinking it. Dean was more of a beer/whiskey kind of guy. Not that you minded because you liked more of the tropical and fruity kind of drinks. Wine was just one of those that helped you calm down and relax.

“Hey, in my defense, no one should have given me that much alcohol to begin with. So, it was the bar’s fault on that one. Plus, I think I remember you and Sam just watching me from afar, not doing a damn thing about it. So, actually it was your fault.” You said, finishing the last of your wine.

“Alright, fine, you caught me. I just wanted to stare at your ass a bit longer.” Dean said, half-joking with you.

“Well, if you really wanted to stare at my ass, I think I know of a way you could do that.” You giggled, getting up. You snickered as you ran away from Dean, back to the house which wasn’t far at all. Dean was hot on your trail and you tried to run away from him. He could have caught you easily but you were enjoying the chase as much as he enjoyed chasing you.

You made it to the bedroom before Dean caught you, spinning you around and pinning you to the door. You moaned as his mouth claimed yours, Dean’s hand sliding underneath the already short dress and moving your panties aside.

“Damn, so wet already. Is this all for me?” Dean asked, running his thick fingers through your wet folds.

“All for you, Dean, you know that.” You said breathlessly, looking at him with lust filled eyes.

“Damn right.” Dean growled as he slid in two fingers into your soaking heat, all ready for him. You moaned out in pleasure, arching your back and moving your hips to create some sort of friction. Dean used his other hand to slid off one strap and pull the top of the dress down, freeing your breast.

He took the nipple into his mouth as he thrusted his fingers into you, sliding them all along your walls, teasing you for what’s to come later. You cried out when he nibbled on the already hardened bud, pushing your chest closer to his face.

Suddenly, he pulled away and you whimpered at the loss of the contact.

“Don’t worry, baby girl, I will give you what you want.” Dean said, smirking. He reached behind you and took your zipper, slowly sliding it down until it couldn’t go no more. He helped you out of the dress, leaving you just in your panties.

He was about to reach for you but you stopped him, walking closer.

“Uh huh, I don’t think so. Let me help you get out of these clothes.” You grinned, sliding his suit jacket off his shoulders. You loved the feel of his muscles underneath your hands but you loved the feel of his skin more.

You loosened his tie before pulling it off, skilled fingers unbuttoning his shirt. You slid that off his shoulders, running your hands across his chest. You pressed your lips to his neck, kissing down to his clavicle, and down his chest where you flicked his nipple with the tip of your tongue.

He moaned, letting you do your thing. Dean always had sensitive nipples and each time you had sex, you never let him forget it. You sank to your knees, the softness of the carpet made the landing a lot less painful.

You reached up and palmed him through his pants, Dean groaning out in pleasure. You loved all the little noises he made. It made you feel good, knowing that you were the one to make him feel this way. You unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, sliding down the zipper. You let the pants drop to his ankles, grasping the top of his briefs.

What was hidden underneath, wasn’t what was actually underneath. Dean was bigger than you thought and a lot thicker. Letting the briefs fall, you grasped his hardening cock in your hands, stroking him. He moaned but pulled you up to your feet.

“Not right now, I gotta taste you, sweetheart.” Dean said, kicking off his pants and briefs. You wondered where his shoes went but in this moment, you couldn’t possibly care less.

“Let me take my shoes off.” You said, bending down to take them off but he stopped you.

“Leave them on.” Dean said, his eyes full blown with lust. You smirked as he brought you over to the bed, lying you on it before crawling up your body. He started with your feet, kissing the ankles right above the strap was. He kissed his way up, the higher he got, the more he nibbled and the more he made marks on you.

You were getting wetter by the minute, moaning at the anticipation of what’s to come.

“Dean, please, don’t tease me.” You whimpered, sighing when he went to the other foot, doing the exact same thing to you.

“What do you want, baby girl?” Dean asked, kissing closer to your aching pussy.

“Please, Dean, I need your tongue on me. I need your mouth on me.” You begged, whimpering your want and need.

“As you wish.” Dean said, diving in. He licked a thick stripe up your folds and you moaned out loudly, not caring if anyone heard. You didn’t think anyone would have, given how far they were. Which that gave you all the encouragement to see how loud you could go.

Immediately, he sucked your clit into his mouth and you cried out, one of your hands going to his head, locking your fingers in his short and soft hair. He slipped in two fingers, pressing them against your walls. You moaned, arching your back but Dean needed you still. He placed the other hand on your stomach to hold you down.

“Shit! Dean, that feels so good!” You moaned out, trying to squirm but Dean wouldn’t let you. Dean replaced his fingers with his mouth, sliding his tongue in as far as it would go. He shook his head, his nose bumping into your clit as it went.

“Fuck!!” You yelled out, slamming your head on the pillow below you. He moaned at the taste of you, the vibrations going through your body and resting on your stimulated bundle of nerves. He pulled away and grinned, only to go back to sucking your clit.

You cried out when Dean slid two of his fingers back into your pussy, curling them so they hot your g-spot perfectly. You screamed in pleasure, tightening your hold on his head and tugging a bit.

“Shit! Dean, I’m going to come!” You cried out.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” You did as he was told, coating his fingers with your slick. He grinned as he pulled them out, sticking them in his mouth and sucking your sweet come until they were clean. He leaned up and locked your lips with his. You moaned at the taste of your arousal on his tongue.

Dean grabbed his cock and lined it at your entrance, pushing in slowly. You moaned, not worrying about anything because you were on the pill. You didn’t really like condoms anyways. No matter how many times you had sex with this man, he always stretched you out.

“God damn, you’re so fucking tight.” Dean muttered, pushing in all the way until his hips hit yours. You moaned, lifting your hips to make him move. He complied, having tired of the teasing. He pulled all the way out only to slam back home.

You screamed out, putting your hands on his shoulders and digging your nails into his back. He rocked his body into yours, thrusting hard and fast. He moaned at the feel of you and you opened your eyes, looking into his.

You loved this man so much.

He held himself up, pounding into you.

“Shit! Yes! Dean!” You cried out, pulling him down and kissing him. He kissed you back, not letting up the pace. He reached down and rubbed your clit and that was the moment you knew you were ready to come again.

“I’m going to come, Dean.” You whimpered against his mouth.

“Hold it.” He demanded, thrusting a little harder, the tightening of his balls made it clear he wasn’t going to last.

“Ready? Come for me baby girl.” Dean said, grunting out his pleasure. You let go and came, crying very loudly. Dean emptied his load into you, groaning as he placed his head in the crook of your neck. You whimpered when he slid out of you.

“Damn, it gets better every time.” Dean said with a chuckle.

“It really does.” You said, smiling widely at him. You got up, taking the discarded shirt that Dean wore and put it on. You took off your shoes, throwing them to where the other clothes were.

“Where are you off to?” Dean asked, watching you carefully.

“Don’t worry, I will be back. I am just going to get some water. Want some?” You asked, looking at him. He nodded and you smiled, getting up and walking out of the room and downstairs. You walked into the kitchen and got two glasses of water before heading back to the stairs.

But what stopped you was a knock on the door. You frowned, not knowing who could be there. You walked to the door and looked through the peephole but saw no one there. You opened it, peering outside but frowning when no one was there.

You were about to shut the door when a note on the floor caught your eyes. You bent down and picked it up, shutting the door and locking it.

“Sweetheart!” Dean called out for you.

“I’ll be right there!” You replied, looking at the front of it. Only your name was written and nothing else. You opened the letter and frowned even more when out found out what was inside.

You think what you have is so perfect? How about try and live in my shoes for a while. This trip isn’t going to be all rainbows and sunshine. Watch your back.

Forever tags:

@not-an-angel-boy @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @innernightwerewolf @wishedworld @justanotherdeangirl @laqueus-ludovicus

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @winchesterandpie @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spn-applepie-imagines @tahbehonest

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @27bmm

[themirandapamphlet-blog]

Part 3- sweatpants (1/2)

The night before had gone by so quickly from there, a blur of fruity cocktails, childhood stories - and at the end of the night, when he'd had too much to drink, he ended up coming back to your place - there was no way you trusted him to get back on his own, plus you didn't know where he lived (and you doubted that he knew at the state he was in). He crashed out on your sofa as soon as you let him in, and you left him tucked up with a blanket and one of the pillows from your bed. You'd gone to sleep in the room next to him, leaving the door open so that he would be able to see you from where he lay. You told yourself you were just making sure he was okay, but you found yourself staring at him breathing for what felt like a lifetime before sleep gently washed over you. You woke up the next morning, and quickly pulled a hoodie over your pyjamas, shivering as you left the safety and warmth of your cosy little bed. You padded out to the living room and looked at the form of the sleeping man on your sofa. He was too big for it, his feet (which were now bare of his shoes -he must have kicked them off during the night) stuck right off the end. He had snuggled right into the pillow, hugging it tightly to his chest and resting his head on it. His hair was mussed up from sleep, and his cheeks were flushed pink from sleep. You quickly grabbed your phone and snapped a picture, tweeting it to Lin with the caption :

"Good friend brings drunk friend home. Drunk friend has a relationship with your pillow.", before going to the kitchen. You reached into the fridge and pulled out eggs and cheese, and set out making your favourite hangover cure, along with two cups of black coffee. You set the plates down on the table in the living room, and went back through to retrieve the mugs. "Morning sunshine!" You called cheerily, awaking Lin with a start. He jumped with a start, before moaning and closing his eyes again. "Here, get up and drink your coffee. I made you breakfast." You told him bossily, shifting his legs and taking a seat next to him. He sat up groggily, looking at you through half closed and took the proffered mug out of your hand. "I'm never drinking again." He grumbled, after a comfortable silence. "You're never drinking that much again." You corrected. He looked at you and smirked. "Neither of those are true at all, but we'll pretend." He said quietly, taking another sip of the coffee. "What's for breakfast?" He asked, leaning forward and taking the plate off the table. "Scrambled eggs with cheese. My favourite hangover cure." You told him. He seized a fork and began wolfing the food down. Between mouthfuls, he asked "Why are you being so nice to me when you hated me literally yesterday?". You finished your mouthful of eggs and spoke slowly. "Well, I didn't think I should have left you considering how bad you were - you forgot where you lived, how could I let you go home on your own? Guess I was trying to look out for you," you paused and smirked "you lightweight." He gasped in mock outrage. "I am not a lightweight! I just have more fun!" You just looked at him, "Okay, maybe I am. Nothing wrong with that right?" He admitted. "Anyway, thank you. I appreciate it. You gonna finish that?" He motioned to the remnants on your plate. You shook your head and he tucked in eagerly. You smiled- apparently you were a better cook than you thought, even if it was just eggs. You stretched and stood up, taking the dishes. You motioned for his now-empty plate, but he just stood up and followed you to the kitchen. "You should probably go get dressed. I'll wash up- a small token of my thanks for last night." You grinned at him and headed off to quickly get dressed, realising he still had his clothes from last night. You pulled open a drawer on the bottom of your cabinet and grabbed a pair of your ex's sweatpants, along with a shirt, and nearly smacked straight into Lin, who was stood outside your room. "I was about to knock -I-I-" he stammered as you cut him off. "Clothes. My ex's, they might be a bit small but better than nothing right?" He took the clothes gratefully, and you pointed him to the bathroom. He turned around before he entered the bathroom, "I wasn't like-l-looking at you whilst you were getting changed or anything." He told you, his ears turning pink. "I know, if you wanted to have seen me naked you would have shared my bed last night" you teased, watching him squirm a little. He fidgeted with the clothes in his hands; "Right, just… going to-to-get changed." He said, before suddenly disappearing into the bathroom, shutting the door on your amused face.

--------

"You do realise that the cast are going to realise you came home with me?" You asked Lin as you climbed out of the cab together outside the theatre. He rolled his eyes; "They already have bets on how long it takes for us to hook up. Something about sexual tension?" He told you, his brow slightly furrowed as he laughed. "That doesn't surprise me, at all. Let's just get today over and then we can go out separate ways and prove the cast we aren't going to get together, okay?" You said playfully. He agreed with you and you both went inside, determined to make the day as professional as you could.

Fate decided that wasn't the case. There was no show today, so you hoped for an easy day, however every single main cast member felt like they should come up to you and ask if you and Lin were together. Between the tweet you posted, his obviously borrowed clothes and his bag containing last night's outfit, they were all convinced you, as Daveed put it, "Got off" with each other. Daveed was the worse, teasing you and Lin mercilessly throughout the day, and then insisting, in front of everyone, that you joined them tonight for Anthony's birthday. "You know, a few drinks, we've hired a room at a club near here, it's just a small thing but you HAVE TO come - I'm sure we can stretch the invite to you to, you know," he winked at you, "thank you for looking after our little Lin last night." You hadn't been able to say no in front of everyone, and even when you'd told him you didn't have anything to wear so wouldn't look right, he thrust Jasmine at you, insisting you were the same height so you could borrow some of her clothes. The rest of the day at the theatre passed quickly - the cast rehearsed some scenes that hadn't been up to the director's standards the night before and did some team building exercises to help them work on their ability to work as a chorus. The rehearsals ended relatively early, and you found yourself leaving with Jasmine and Phillipa - two of the main cast members. They chatted to you shyly, making you feel welcome as they spilled secrets about the production. When you got to Jasmine's, they made short work of finding you something to wear, the two fashion forward girls finding outfits in a flurry of clothes spread out onto the bedroom floor. Phillipa had opened a bottle of wine at some point, and over the course of an hour you had had several glasses, chosen what to wear and styled yourself. You were all very giggly when you finally got changed into a light blue dress with a white print on it. "You look perfecccct!" Jasmine drawled out, raising her glass to you. You blushed and pulled your shoes on. "Come on, it's nearly 7 and I've got no clue where we're going" you told the girls, who both were already ready. You made your way to the club and found the cast in a room to the side, which was decorated with birthday banners. To the side was a bar set up, along with a sign reading "Serve yourself". There were tables packed with food, and the place was absolutely packed full of people that Jasmine and Phillipa knew, rushing off to greet people and leaving you by yourself. You looked around nervously - you couldn't see anyone you knew! You fiddled with you jacket awkwardly, wishing for someone to come that you would recognise. After several minutes you decided you would leave and turned, only to run smack into someone who had just entered. "Oh shi-I am so sorry!" You exclaimed, looking up at the man you had just knocked into. He only smiled in response, dusting his jacket down. "Don't worry about it, accidents happen. You're leaving so soon?" He asked, noticing you looking at the door. Before you could open your mouth, he smiled at you again, his incredibly(!) white teeth beaming at you, and pulled you into the room. “Let’s go get a drink, c’mon.” You followed the (incredibly forward) man, confused. 

Who was he? You had absolutely no idea - you didn’t know anyone at this party. You were glad that someone was actually talking to you, you thought, and he was kinda cute. “What could go wrong?” you thought in your head as he handed you a drink. 

3 tequilas, 2 vodka and cokes and a Bloody Mary later, you learned that your mystery man was a distant cousin of the birthday boy himself, had a big apartment in Lennox hill and did something in taxes. He didn’t ask anything about you (except to ask if you wanted another drink) - you’d noticed that- but you were grateful for the company, and you were very drunk at this point - he acted as something to lean on. “Y/N?” a voice asked behind you. You turned around quickly, stumbling at the sudden disorientation, to see Lin looking at you concerned. You grinned at him excitedly. “Lin!!!” You exclaimed. He reached out an arm to steady you.”Are you okay? How much have you had to drink?” He asked, concerned brown eyes fixated on your face. “I’m fabulous! I wa-” you were suddenly cut off by the smooth talking stranger who had kept you company. “Hey, she’s with me, she’s fine.” He insisted, turning you back to face him. He ran a hand down your arm. “What’s say I get you another drink, and then we -uh, go back to mine?” He asked, with another one of his unbelievingly white smiles. “Woah, I think she’s had enough pal. Y/N, I’ve been looking for you for hours, where have you been?”Lin interrupted, stepping forward to try put himself between the two of you. “Hey, PAL, the lady is busy, now why don’t you go find someone else to bug?” The stranger snapped, filling your cup up with a bottle of something that reeked of alcohol. “Yeah Lin, relax. I’m just having something to drink with... with-w-what’s your name again?” You paused confused, going to take a gulp of the beverage in your cup, before he snatched it out of hand. “No, Y/N, don’t drink that.” He told your protested yelps. “This jerk’s just trying to ply you with alcohol so he can sleep with you!” He exploded. “Hey, why don’t you go back to your theatre friends before I get mad, okay?” You found yourself moving slightly away from the stranger, and he noticed your movements. 

“Look what’ya done now - Come back, come on, I’ll show you a good time!” He said to you, advancing forwards to you, to which you pulled back. 

“Leave her alone” Lin warned, putting the drink he took off you down and rolling up his sleeves. 

“Or wha-” he was cut off by Lin’s fist connecting to his jaw smoothly, sending him sprawling. Lin pulled you away from the bar, wrapping one arm around you as you teetered precariously. “Y/N, what were you thinking? That could have been so dangerous! Let’s get you home, you’re not staying here any longer.” he told you, the authoritative tone in his voice making you feel protected. You started giggling, “Lin, I left my bag with my keys at um-” you giggled again “At Jasmine’s!” you finished with another chuckle. He sighed. “I’m playing host tonight then, come on. You can sleep on my couch this time” He teased, grabbing your hand as he lead you out into the cold New York air as he hailed a cab.

[3one3]

The Sequel - 819

Never Okay

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“How is it there today?”

“It’s South Beach. It’s the same every day. Hot. Humid. Sunny.”

“I mean around the horse show.”

“It’s fine. I rode them a little at 7 this morning and they both jump this afternoon, but there are so many entries it’s gonna be a looooooong break in between. One long side of the ring is open for anybody to walk up and watch, and the people just barely stick up over the advertisements. I’m not sure the boys will like that.”

“It must be great to ride a dozen yards from the surf though, yeah?”

“It’s okay.”

“Cheer up, Prinzessin, please. Everyone is okay. And the result yesterday isn’t the worst thing.”

“I know, I’m just...I don’t know. The world is especially ludicrous this week. I’m jumping multi-million-dollar horses on the beach in Miami for rich people to watch between socializing and drinking, and leaders are gassing their own people, and terrorists are trying to blow up football teams- your football team. I just- I don’t- Pffffft.” Christina let out a protracted and frustrated sigh/groan combination deal that she felt did a better job expressing her feelings than she could do with actual words. She didn’t really want to be in beautiful Miami Beach with beautiful Rio and Nick to compete on the Tour with her friends. She didn’t really want to go home and hold André and Lukas safely in her lap on the couch and dwell on how scary the bus attack was, and how terrible it is to experience something that hits so close to home. She just wanted the stuff related to the second to not have happened, so that she could enjoy the first, and so that the world could appear less bleak, hypocritical, and cruel. The crawl on the TV in the restaurant she went to for lunch with her colleagues bragged that the US just dropped “the mother of all bombs” on an ISIS target in Afghanistan, and Christina couldn’t help but wonder how many football games would turn out like the one she watched the afternoon before as a result of such aggression, and that was obviously the least concerning effect, really.

That game was miserable. No one from the German side wanted to play. They weren’t prepared to play. Some of the guys didn’t even get to sleep after returning home to their families and beginning to understand how serious and how crazy their experience was on the bus. Borussia started poorly, predictably, and gave up a penalty. It wasn’t converted, but Sven Bender managed to concede an own goal minutes later anyway. He was filling in at centre back in his first appearance since December because Marc needed surgery. Monaco also scored a likely offside goal, and then capitalized on a terrible mistake by Lukasz for their third. Dortmund came out looking much more like themselves during the second half, particularly with some personnel changes working in their favor, and managed to crawl it back to 2-3. Their fight would be uphill for the return leg. And that didn’t even matter that much. The players were just really upset about having to play. It all upset Christina, because it wasn’t just any game and any result. Advancement in the Champions League was important to the club financially, and to the team’s state of mind. They were really suffering in the domestic league. They needed a positive campaign in Europe to help keep them going. She was upset because the guys she was beginning to get to know, and the guys whom she loved from a far for years and years, all seemed so devastated. Most of all, she was upset that she couldn’t be there for André. He kept saying he was fine, and he sounded okay, but the rider just knew he would have really appreciated having his girl there for hugs and talking and general support.

“I know it doesn’t feel real,” the injured BVB man told her. “You’re still allowed to enjoy your horse show, though. Some people have the job to entertain and preoccupy us so we don’t all have to think about the terrible stuff every minute of the day.”

“Well maybe we should all think of it every minute of the day and then maybe we’ll be motivated to fix it!”

“Chris.”

“I’m just saying...”

“Where is the party tonight?”

“In the VIP chalet.”

“Are you going to wear a dress?”

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

“The blue one you picked for me in New York.”

“Oh, I love that one.”

“Just as soon as it’s 75 at night in Dortmund I’ll wear it for you too.”

“Have a fruity drink for me.”

“I’m drinking out of a coconut right now.”

“Send me a picture.” Do something so I know you’re better than you sound, André willed his girl. The team had the day off and he had nothing to do. Everyone wanted to spend time with family. Half of his family was in Miami and the other half was a few hours away waiting for his nephew to show up. The little boy was a bit late. It still baffled the player that the incoming baby’s father was still showing in another hemisphere instead of waiting by Mom’s side, but he was glad to have another person in Christina’s orbit to keep an eye on her. He was already texting with Espen and Tom to make sure she was a functioning sad girl and not just a sad girl. By all accounts, she was still doing her normal things, be they workouts, food habits, and baby playtime. Tim told him she called and asked him to get her out of some media commitments and to dodge any inquiries to his office pertaining to the bus attack. She didn’t want to talk about what happened, or how she felt about it. Most people at the Miami Beach venue- a combination of the local convention center, long fenced off paths across streets and between hotels, and a jumping arena on the beach itself- didn’t register a low level potential terrorist attack in a secondary German city, even though it did make the American news. The European riders were more aware of what happened, and the significance of it, and the significance as it pertained to Christina. So did the European journalists kicking around to cover the Tour. Many traveled on the same trip she did, primarily for the World Cup. Their reigning GCT champion was thankful for the sympathy of both groups, and desperate to avoid the questions of the second. Her agent was helpful. So was getting away from the venue and spending her free time in other parts of Miami with her son. His dad was just worried that she would let everything get to her, that it would hurt her preparation or her riding, and then make her upset with herself too and not just humanity and the rest of the world.

It was easier for André to worry about her than it was to further internalize what happened closer to home. Naturally he was thankful not to be on the bus on Tuesday night. Naturally he felt terrible about his friends and colleagues and coaches being on it. Naturally he felt as if something was really wrong in the world if football teams were the new target for terrorism. But he also knew he couldn’t do his job or enjoy his sport if he let himself think too much about the implications, or become too afraid. Not only would it mean giving in to the bad guys, but it would also mean surrendering something he loved- something he lived for. André wasn’t willing to do that. He was capable of embracing hope for change and a better future, and in the absence of that, ignoring reality.

He also missed Christina, a lot. Her return flight was Sunday, and Sunday couldn’t come soon enough. Three weeks away was too many, even if there wasn’t a major life drama involved to make him need her presence more than usual. He still couldn’t train, and he asked about permission to go to Miami. The medical staff said the things they could do for him each day to speed the healing process were worth maintaining, so he couldn’t leave. There was a chance he could start individual training on Friday, too. He was quite relieved to learn that Juan was in the same boat. The Spaniard wasn’t back in training yet, but needed to be at Cobham daily for treatment. That kept him away from Miami too, and prevented him from being Christina’s Savior in Time of Need again.

She sent him a selfie with her coconut and straw, and then posted a picture of Nick “drinking” from it. She had to hold it up for him and get Tom to snap the photo. The Hanoverian didn’t really know how to drink from a straw. He did, however, hold onto said straw with his lips. He kept lifting it out of the coconut. The photo op was more difficult than anticipated. Tom indulged her instead of reminding her that she needed to go walk the first course. He wasn’t thrilled about the bomb attack from his personal perspective either. He’d just moved his young family into the area from significantly further from the center of Dortmund. Three weeks away from that family was difficult for him too, and he was stressed about having someone new working at the barn at home. Christina hired a 28-year-old Belgian woman with good references and a seemingly pleasant personality to help Kyle take care of the 11 horses left in the barn, including Navarra, who was delivered halfway through Nick and Rio’s tour of North America. Her little Dirk foal, Dylan, was successfully weaned and getting on just fine in a big group with the other youngsters, and there was no need for her to remain at Holger’s, racking up board bills. It was cheaper to keep her at home, especially since she wasn’t in foal again. Holger and Tom planned to try to move her cycle up so that they could breed her in May for an April delivery. Part of the plan was to keep lights on her, since a mare’s cycle is largely dependent on the photoperiod, and part was letting her hang around near the boys. That was much easier at Christina’s than at the federation’s training center, since the breeding stallions were kept elsewhere. Christina almost hoped it wouldn’t work and that they’d have to wait another year to breed her again because it would buy her some time to decide whom to breed her to. Everyone thought it would be Nick. In her heart, she wanted it to be Marcus’ retired stallion, Plot Blue. That wasn’t exactly the greatest signal about Nick in marketing terms.  

In any case, rider and groom were helping each other along- helping each other cope with missing their loved ones, and worrying about what went on at home. They were a good team. It didn’t always seem that way of late, but Christina thought, if nothing else, three weeks on the road did good things for that relationship. Her relationship with Dirk, and even with herself, were the ones she hoped to go away to work on. Strengthening the one with her groom- her most important team member and ally on the road- was a satisfying accident. They had a lot of steaks together in Nebraska, a lot of tacos together in Mexico, and a lot of Cuban coffee in the morning in Miami. Christina brought him one each morning when she turned up to ride, usually between 6 and 7.

All of those things, from mares to grooms, were thoughts and evolutions of thoughts that she shared extensively with Juan. He was getting the deep daily briefing, and André was getting the André Schürrle Family briefing. His wife thought it was almost weird that they weren’t fighting while she was away. They were actually getting on really well, even before the scary bus attack. She endeavored to preserve that good trend by keeping discussion sort of superficial- just talking about the tick-tock of her day and her husband’s, about Lukas, and her general feelings about how the horse showing was going. Juan was getting the full philosophical mind dig every day, primarily because he always did. Christina could tell him anything troubling her, anything she felt like examining, anything she wanted perspective on, and not worry about what it would do to their ability to communicate, or that she would upset him, or detract from the importance of what was going on his life. The Chelsea man always let her talk as much as she wanted, and then he unloaded things on her too, and got the same listening service. André wasn’t always so good at that, so he didn’t get that exchange. Sometimes he reacted to something that mattered to his wife, or bothered her, in a way that diminished it, or he was overtly dismissive, or he wanted to argue and tell her she was wrong to think the way she did about whatever it was. Holding some topics back was an exercise in defense- of their relationship, not just herself. She held nothing back from her ex.

“What are you up to?” he asked her on his regular daily first call, usually the one before any competition. The Miami schedule was a little different, so he caught her between rides.

“Sitting under a palm tree.”

“At the beach?”

“There aren’t any palm trees on the beach. Technically I’m in a parking lot, I think.” Christina sat up from her chair-in-a-bag to try to figure out exactly what the space converted for hand walking was originally. It was surface parking for trucks and such that needed to unload. The horses were stabled in outdoor tents nearby. She put her chair under a tree on the edge of the pavement to generally hide from people. No media people or Tour people or FEI people or Longines people would look for her there, and it was shady, and there was some grass for Lukas to play in, though Espen was pushing him around the parking lot in Tom’s wheelbarrow.

“How was the Samba King?”

“We had a rail because he was distracted by girls in bikinis.”

“Understandable.”

“How was your day?”

“Not so good, actually,” Juan told her without inflection. “The recovery is going to take a little longer than expected.”

“Oh no, did you do too much too soon?” The rider slowly settled back into her black nylon chair, a deep frown on her face under her baseball cap. She was really done with the sun.

“More like we just thought everything would heal faster than it is. I probably won’t be able to play again this year,” her friend reported, still without the appropriate amount of angst and disappointment.

“This year? Or this season?”

“Season! It’s better to just give it lots of time and then be all fit and ready for pre-season.”

“Aww, Juanin. Way to bury the lede. Why didn’t you tell me that sooner? I’m so sorry. That’s so shitty!” Poor babe. Poor me, because I will be deprived of watching him play, but poor him! God this week sucks. Christina lifted her cold-ish water bottle to her cheek and held it there, seeking reprieve from the heat as much as the misfortune of her loved ones. It really wasn’t that warm on Thursday afternoon but she was struggling to stay cool nevertheless. Something about riding right next to the water made her body intensely hot. Tom guessed it was the water itself, drawing extra rays.

“It’s not a big deal,” Juan seemed to shrug. “I rather play it safe than risk making it worse and missing even more time. Now I’ll be the most rested going into pre-season!” he chuckled. “And I have free time to do other things. I go to watch you at some of those competitions. I still owe you the tour of Madrid. We didn’t do that last year.”

“Madrid is the same weekend as the last Premier League match. You have to be there to lift your trophy.” Christina smiled in spite of the bittersweet thought of the Chelsea man not being able to play in the run in to Chelsea’s next title. Thinking about the trophy just made her happy. She only even knew the fixture conflicted with the GCT stop in the Spanish capital because she checked to see if she could go to the match and see her Blues lift the prize. “You’re welcome to come to Hamburg the weekend after though, or Cannes, or wherever. I’m bringing the boat there.”

“With André, I’m sure.”

“He has a tournament to play in. I don’t expect to see him much until after Monaco and Paris. We might go to Portugal, and northern Spain. I dunno.”

“You don’t sound happy about that.”

“I’m not. Even if I didn’t show as much, I still wouldn’t see him. The games are all over this year. But anyway...never mind me. Aren’t you desperately sad?” The girl in all white slipped her sweating water bottle inside the open collar of her stretchy long sleeve show shirt, to cool her sternum, basically, and didn’t care if it made the white shirt wet and see-through. It would shock no one to know she was wearing a white adidas sports bra underneath.

“No. It’s easier to take after what happened this week. My situation could be a lot worse.” The Spanish player cleared his throat, and then changed course again. It was like neither of them wanted to speak about themselves. “You have the team competition later, right?”

“Yeah. I have to go change into my team kit soon but I don’t wanna get up. Whose idea was it to schedule show jumping in the middle of the afternoon in Miami? They should do everything at night. I guess they can’t get lights on the beach.”

“Which is your team again?”

“The St. Tropez Pirates. I didn’t have a choice. It’s a little weird for me because our under-25 rider is German and the main competition for Stef for spots in the real team- the German team. This is my last one for a while. Only two of the 5 of us can do each event. Simon, Jos, and me are the only ones over here, so I’ve done both and they’re each doing one. I’m skipping some back in Europe when the other people are there to do it. I kind of wish I hadn’t signed on to do the Champions League at all.” Christina wrinkled her nose and removed the bottle from her shirt to have a sip from it. She was tempted to add to herself that she wished she hadn’t signed on to come to the show at all, but she knew that wasn’t really true. Her attitude toward competing in Miami was largely indifferent. It was fun to ride next to the pretty blue water, and it was fun to go to some great restaurants with her friends, and it was fun to play with Lukas in the sand. The actual competing just didn’t excite her much. Daniel told her that was a good thing. He said it meant her brain was just separating the average events from the really big and significant ones, and saving her best for the latter group. His teammate wasn’t sure if she bought that reasoning, but it was as good an explanation as any she could come up with, besides that she’d just lost the drive. That was an explanation she didn’t want to entertain.

“Why? Isn’t it fun to have a team and everything and have it not be as serious as competing with your country?”

“Yeah but we can’t use our own stuff. I have to wear a team shirt or jacket, and the horse has to wear the team saddle pad and ear net. We can’t display our personal sponsors. That means I can’t even use Socks, or Dirk. Dirk can’t do anything without an adidas logo except WEG and the Olympics.”

“That’s kind of like our Champions League. No club sponsors displayed in the stadium.”

“Yeah. The most important one stays on your shirt though.”

“I need to go, cariña. We’re doing the private opening of the restaurant tonight. Call me back later if you want. I’ll be up late.”

Christina and Juan said goodbye and good luck for their respective events, and the rider kissed her son goodbye for a little while too. She needed to go switch shirts and trek back over to the beach to walk the course for the first class in the two-part Global Champions League competition. The event was in its second year. Germany’s brightest star didn’t get involved in the inaugural season, and despite her telling Juan that she wished she didn’t sign up to participate in the second one, she really didn’t have a choice.

The organizers guaranteed a packed, top class field for their signature League classes by making the second one the qualifier for the Grand Prix. The Grand Prix was the only class counting for points toward the Tour championship. Individuals could contest the qualifier, but the catch was in the scheduling. Riders could only bring two horses. The first day of competition included a 1.45m Table A class and the 1.55m Table A Team competition first round. The second day was just one 1.50 Table A class. The third and final day featured the second round of the Team competition/Grand Prix qualifier, and the Grand Prix itself just three hours later. In addition to placing in the top 25 of the qualifier, riders were required to jump their Grand Prix horse in that first 1.45m class on the first day in order to be eligible. No one was going to try to do the qualifier and the Grand Prix on the same horse. It was too much jumping for one afternoon. As such, they all needed a good second horse to do the qualifier. Working backwards, the only Day 2 class really needed to be for the Grand Prix horse, otherwise he or she was sitting for a day without any good prep, and he or she was required to jump in the easy class on Day 1, which wouldn’t be a good enough prep on its own. That meant the qualifier horse couldn’t jump on Day 2, and he or she couldn’t jump in the easy class on Day 1 either because that was for the Grand Prix horse. In order not to have to go into the qualifier without a single warm up or prep class, riders had to enter their qualifier horse in the Team competition and jump in the second class on Day 1. Technically, individuals were allowed to enter that too, just as they were allowed to enter the qualifier, but there was €10,500,000 in additional prize money on the line for the Team competition. Christina and Tom decided it would be silly to go and jump in all the same classes anyway and give up the chance to win a piece of that bonus purse.

Even the thought of that eventual prize money windfall wasn’t enough to inspire the rider. Her round with Nick was fine. She jumped clear. It was uneventful and unremarkable in every single way. After tying up her loose ends for the show day, Christina went back to her hotel room to shower and do nothing until it was time to go to the welcome party, which as it turned out was not actually in the VIP tent. It was happening right in the hotel. That meant she had even more time to lie in bed and relax. Lukas was already napping when she finished washing her hair, and Espen asked if she could assume responsibility for him for a little while so she could go work out. That meant Lukas’ mom couldn’t nap, but she didn’t mind. She called his dad to help keep her awake, and because she just wanted to talk to him.

“Is everything alright?” he asked her sleepily, as she wasn’t in the habit of calling him at midnight his time, and because she’d already sent him a goodnight text.

“I miss you. A lot. And it’s the real kind of missing you, not like how I missed you even when we were fighting all the time. It’s like...I just miss everything about being near you, and I can’t wait to get home.” And this matters because for a long time I have only missed Juanin this way, Christina pointed out in her head only. She didn’t want to share that part with André. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. It should have been a good thing- a sign that her relationship with the German was really getting strong again- but she had a nagging sense of disappointment about it.

“I miss you too, Prinzessin. And I’ll see you soon. Just a few more days.”

“What are we going to do this summer? We’ll hardly see each other.”

“We’ll find time for visits. It’ll be okay.”

“It’s never been okay.”