#Favourite Colours Play It Loud

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: Helsinki's Favourite Colours Shares Yearning and Anthemic "Play It Loud"

New Audio: Helsinki's Favourite Colours Shares Yearning and Anthemic "Play It Loud" @heygroover @romainpalmieri @DorianPerron

Led by songwriter and producer Aaro Seppänen, emerging Helsinki-based indie outfit Favourite Colours has quickly developed a unique sound featuring reverb-drenched guitars, lush synths, catchy melodies that draws from ’80s and ’90s dream pop and shoegaze, as well as punk and hip-hop while being rooted in strong emotions, ranging from bittersweet melancholy to heavenly euphoria. Favourite…

[enwoso]

Hi! I have a request for Ella Toone. Could you do one where Ella talks about reader during one of the Tooney and Russo Show podcast?

OPPOSITE SIDES — ella toone

masterlist

"oh this is a good question for you ella! what is your favourite memory with y/n" vick smiled up from the ipad as a small smile flashed across ella's lips, it was cliche answer but there was too many to choose from.

today on the tooney and russo show it was an open episode where the girls were answering questions which fans had sent in, and this wasn't the first time you had been mentioned in this episode. the fans seemingly loving your relationship with the fellow manchester united midfielder.

"oo this is so hard, can i not just say all of them" ella groaned as alessia booed into the mic saying that was such a boring answer, as her and vick both pressured the brunette to answer the question.

"ok if i had to choose one" ella hummed trying to pin point just one memory. "probably when i managed to get her in a man united jersey"

"you didn't- how?" alessia gasped clearly never hearing this story. it being quite the intriguing one considering she had been on the end of the countless complaints from ella when she had tried to get you to wear her united jersey when you were going to watch her play when you didn’t have a match of your own to play but you always refused. as you you were a life long man city fan and even played your entire career of club football there.

ella cleared her throat as she began to tell the story.

the sun bleared through the blinds in the room which you shared with your girlfriend, a small groan leaving your lips as you opened your eyes. your head slightly throbbing from the one too many glasses of red wine you’d had last night.

not remembering what time you got home, but remembering ella picked you up as she basically forced the wine glass out your hand and replaced it with a glass of water hoping to sober you up a little — it didn’t.

by the time you got home you were drifting in and out of sleep as ella wiped your makeup off and helped you get changed knowing you’d thank her for it in the morning, maybe.

glancing down at the brunette hair which was sprawled out across your chest as small shallow breaths came from her lips.

beginning to move the girl gently as she started to stir, “don’t go” ella whispered, her eyes still glued shut as a small chuckle came from your lips as you slipped out of bed heading for the bathroom.

not bothering to look in the mirror not wanting to see the state which last night had left you in — but maybe if you had you would have seen the certain manchester shirt you were in.

using the bathroom before heavy footsteps were made going back towards the warmth of your bed and your girlfriend’s arms. seeing that ella had moved, facing the way of the door as a smug smile was across her sleepy face.

“wow you look so fit in that top-“ ella mumbled as you glanced down to see the red top, before having to take a double look when you realised what red shirt it was. a manchester united shirt.

a loud gasp left your lips as you scrambled to take it off leaving you in just your sport bra. you were a blue through and through. manchester city fan until the day you died. the one thing that you and ella never could agree on was what colour manchester actually was.

you played in the blues of manchester while she played in the reds of manchester. you both being childhood supporters of the clubs you played at.

“you-“ you pointed towards ella as she tried her best to play the innocent act, you knowing all too well it would have been her that would have put that shirt on you last night before you went to sleep.

“i haven’t done anythin’!” ella expressed her innocence as you flopped yourself back ontop of her a small grunt leaving her lips as you did so. ella trying her best to keep her giggles in as you towered over her, a fake angry look on your face.

“you took advantage of me when i was vulnerable, putting me in that top-“ you complained as a playful roll of the eyes came from your girlfriend as you reached down to peck her lips.

“you said it was a comfy top, not me” ella shrugged as you pouted at her, trying to pretend to be annoyed. as she placed another loving kiss to you lips as you pulled three covers back over the two of you, feeling the cold on the hairs of you back from taking ella’s united top off.

“i love you” you whispered against her lips, “even if you do support the wrong side of manchester-“

“oi!”

both alessia and vick had listened to the story, gasping and giggles coming from them as ella told the story. knowing the parts when ella was being that little bit more exaggerate and dramatic.

“i’m surprised you had a girlfriend after that-“ alessia joked as ella hummed as she took a sip of her water.

“oh no, she was fuming with me for the rest of the day” ella explained how she had to earn her girlfriend point back throughout the day by basically doing anything and everything to you.

“so i can imagine derby days being quite tense then?” vick questioned as ella hummed knowing how the days usually go.

“they don’t talk to each other the entire build up to it on the day” alessia said so calmly after experiencing quite the few derby days between the two of you from back when she was playing for united.

“no we don’t and then when the prem is on that’s even worse we have to watch the game in different rooms otherwise we just bicker” ella added as laughs filled the rooms as ella also laughed realising how silly it probably sounded but nobody loved their childhood clubs like you and ella did.

“but it’s all good after the ninety. she knows i love her very much. and i know she loves me too”

[princessbrunette]

HOLD ME, KISS ME ♡

♪ the little dippers — forever ♪

WANTED: JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE - SUSPECTED MURDER - $1000 REWARD - DANGEROUS! IF SPOTTED DO NOT APPROACH!

pairing: outlaw!johnb + sheltered!reader ⋆₊⊹♡

synopsis: your wishes come true when a beautiful boy is found sleeping peacefully in your barn. much to his surprise, you don’t care about who he is or what he has or hasn’t done — you just want to ensure he stays forever.

cw: mentions of prayer, religion and god (for plot purpose) reader has two parents, western!au, innocence kink, slight manipulation, mentions of crime, breeding kink, smut ♡

“Please deliver me a man, save me from this loneliness. Make him kind, and strong, and handsome. I vow to make him the happiest man alive.”

Your forehead rests against your clasped hands where you kneel beside your bed, speaking out loud as there was no one else to speak to. Your parents had gone on a trip for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the farmhouse all by your lonesome.

Isolated didn’t feel like the correct term. You were grateful, happy to live off the fat of your father’s land in the middle of nowhere, but sometimes you wished you had someone to share it with. Someone your own age who was there to see you. You had become the perfect host, thrilled when your parents would bring home guests once in a blue moon. You’d tie ribbons in your hair and pick the perfect dress and set the table like your mother taught you. You often imagined setting the table for a family of your own.

Your own farm house. The thought sent you off to sleep each night, walking through the home in your mind as if it were really real, feeling the creaking of the painted wooden porch beneath your feet as you enter, the distant cooing of your baby being comforted by your husband in the next room. White shabby-chic panels across the walls with oak furniture and knitted throw pillows and lots and lots of warm light. The kitchen table would have the perfect lace floral embroidered table cloth draped across it which you’d serve the heartiest dinners on each night. The babies room would be painted mint green, no— maybe pastel yellow, with handmade toys and a music box that played your song and oh, the master bedroom… where you and your husband rest your head would be flooded with natural light. A haven. All yours.

The details to the decoration often changed, new inspiration plucked from the papers that father would bring home and new favourite colours integrating themselves into your home plans but one thing remained the same each time. Your husband. He never had a face, but it wasn’t important. He was warm, strong without having to prove just how macho he was, kind— you could feel his love from the next room on. That was all you really wanted. You could forget the house, forget the land, live in a barn for all you care — you just wanted to experience a love like the ones in the fairytale books stacked high in your room.

It had been a week already of this routine you’d grown used to. You wake up, feed yourself and then the chickens, come inside, clean yourself and then the house, paint, crotchet or read — however the mood takes you, eat lunch, tend to the crops, brush the horses, maybe milk a cow, come inside and cook dinner, bathe, think about your dream husband and grind your wet messy cunt into a pillow, feel guilty, beg for forgiveness and then sleep. It was an easy life, and you couldn’t complain— but you couldn’t help feel the world had more to offer.

Your mother often told you that gifts from above come when you least expect it, you just had to keep your eyes open. You always wondered how one might find these gifts with no idea where to look.

Your gift arrived bright and early the next morning.

Well, not technically as early as it should have been, infact you probably nearly missed it. The roosters calls at 6AM each morning, but on that very day you had decided to sleep in. A few hours wouldn’t kill them, you think as you pull a plush white pillow to lay over your ear— it’s not like the chickens would starve.

At 11:45AM, you stumble bare foot onto the grass outside, setting out on your walk to the barn a little way up the land. Your pert nipples harden, awakened by the cool morning breeze as the thin white fabric of your nightdress blows in the wind. With the sunlight shining directly on it, it was sure to be totally and utterly see through— and you suppose that was one upside to living in the middle of nowhere, yards upon yards from civilisation. No one would see you. Sigh.

You feed the chickens, totally blind before it even occurs to you that anything might be astray. Infact, you don’t even seem to notice that the barn door was left ajar, as opposed to how you usually leave it bolted by a wooden slab to prevent the animals from wandering off or being massacred by foxes. You suppose that’s the price you pay for sleeping in, you live in dreamworld for the next few hours.

The Earth seems to stop turning for a moment when you see him.

You’re more curious than anything, wide eyed, holding your breath as to be totally silent despite having been humming and speaking to the chickens only a moment prior. You tiptoe through the hay, shards of straw sprouting between your painted toes and pin-needling your sole as you draw closer to the man. A fallen angel, your first thought.

He’s half curled up onto his side in the hay behind the stable for your white pony. He has thick-ish arms crossed over his chest, his hat laying over his face seeming to be serving as a purpose to block out the light. You figure as you hadn’t woken up him before, a closer inspection couldn’t hurt. Unhurriedly, you sink down into a squat beside him, knees pointed upwards and feet taking your balance. A real man, in your barn? It couldn’t be. You chew on your bottom lip, goggle-eyed and inquisitive as you cautiously lift the hat away from his face.

He doesn’t wake and you’re for some reason thankful. It gives you time to observe him, the breath all but knocked from your body as you take in just how beautiful he is. He was perfect, and just like what you were hoping for when you wished to be delivered a husband.

Dark eyelashes kissing at the rim of his closed eyes, pale lips and freckles, sunkissed across his nose. Your eyes trail over and across him, now with his face in mind taking in account what he looks like as a whole. You were still in disbelief, a real man sleeping in your barn. But then again, as your eyes skim lower and you notice the blood seeping through his shirt over his stomach — you wonder if he was sleeping. Surely he wasn’t dead? Only God could be so cruel to deliver you the perfect man without a pulse.

So, you press two cold fingers to his neck, searching for the rhythmic beats signifying life. As soon as you do so, the man jolts awake — wide brown eyes meeting yours.

“Jesus.”

This is where the stare off commences— you were sat in a squat giving him a straight shot up your night dress with dome like eyes and parted lips, observing him like he was some sort of alien life form that had happened upon your barn infront of your very eyes. Your chest rises and falls, and his gender fails to betray him as his eyes fall there for a moment, subconsciously noticing the way your bare tits strain against the thin fabric with each exhale. Somewhere in the back of his mind he can’t help but acknowledge that you’re a pretty thing, totally his type. In any other scenario, he might’ve seen you at a local tavern and introduced himself, getting you tipsy and loose, making you giggle beneath his soft gaze and coarse hands in some dimly lit booth before realising he’s far too respectful to take advantage of you like that.

With his eyes open, the picture is complete — and he truly is as beautiful as you thought. He had a puppy like quality to his eyes, they were big and brown but from the sunlight streaming in you could see specks of orange which intrigues you. You wish to look closer, but you feel it’s not the time. His adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow and he tears his eyes away from yours to look around, still disorientated from sleep. He touches his wound with gentle fingers and he winces, going to push himself up on his elbows.

You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, warm deep voice raspy from rest as he dives into a sequence of begging.

“Does anyone know I’m in here?”

“No, I—”

“Okay, that’s— okay, please — hey, please don’t tell anyone. I won’t lie to you, I’m in a little bit of trouble with the law, nothing super bad I swear just — I needed somewhere safe to sleep so I ended up here. Didn’t take anything and uh— and I’ll be out of your hair now that I’m up.” He rambles, continually glancing at the barn doors, expecting Sheriff Shoupe to bust them down and take him in at any moments notice. You say nothing for a moment and he pushes himself to his feet, eyes squeezing shut at the soreness of his injury. “Think it’s easiest if I just—”

He cuts himself off this time, because you slip your hand into his— stopping him from going anywhere. His eyebrows jump up and he freezes on the spot, staring down at your doe eyes with a wide and confused gaze of his own.

“…Hi?”

“You just got here? Why’d you have to go?” You sound sad, and he actually can’t believe what he’s hearing. Not only did he break into your barn, on private land — but he’d totally overstayed his non-existent welcome, and now you didn’t want him to leave?

“P—pardon me? Ma’am?” He tries to be respectful, when what he really wants to ask is along the lines of ‘What the fuck?’.

You scramble to stand up and he helps you using the hand that you’re grasping. “Well, you won’t get far with a wound like that. It could get infected. Maybe you could come inside, let me dress it. You can refuel… maybe stay a few days?” The last part sounds wrong coming from your mouth. He’s a stranger for goodness sake— everything your parents had taught you about safety went against this and plus you were practically begging. You might have been embarrassed, if there wasn’t such a nagging feeling in your stomach telling you that this was meant to be.

He scoffs out a chuckle, because he thinks there’s no way you’re serious— but when he sees your wide eyes bouncing between his own, searching for something he couldn’t quite put a finger on— he realises you’re being completely genuine and his expression melts into a more worried gaze, shuffling a little closer on his feet.

“Look, I really appreciate your hospitality, but you have done more than enough, really. Just the fact you didn’t have the sheriff busting in to drag me away is something I will be very grateful for. Believe me. But I can’t drag you into this. Anyway, don’t you have family? That you live with?”

You sigh, looking down at your intertwined hands that you had yet to release, staring as if you were trying to memorise the feeling of a man’s touch incase you really couldn’t convince him to stay.

“Well yes, but they’re on a trip you see — and they’re going to be away for another week and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m awfully lonely, and I know you’re a stranger and all but I could really use the extra set of hands… plus it’s the least you could do… for breaking in…” You feel you’re pushing it with that last part, but decide to proceed with it anyway, any means necessary to get him to stay. He bites his bottom lip in thought as you stare up through your lashes and he thinks screw it. He’s sure you’re not setting him up, a little thing like you would be far too weak to pull that off.

“Okay, I… don’t see why not then.” He doesn’t sound certain, but you make such a good offer he’d be a fool not to accept. He bends down and swoops his hat off the floor, holding it to his chest and you take his hand once more, guiding him out of the barn.

He presses his lips together in an awkward smile at the way you confidently lead him, almost having to break into a jog to match your eager pace. Once nearing the house, you tell him your name and he nods — taking in the scenery.

You’re sitting him down in the living room before he can blink, and he takes in the setting around him. A real cozy place, a family home for sure — with a pale blue couch, a scratchy patchwork blanket draped over the back and floral cushions. There’s photos of you in multiple spots around the room, an only child — he gathers. The main photo sits on the mantelpiece, framed, a set of parents curtaining your smiling face in the image. You seem to be a few years younger, fuller in the face, still cute as a button.

He doesn’t quite realise you’d gone anywhere until you’re returning — the contents of an old first aid box rumbling in your grip. You give him a reassuring smile and lower to kneel by his feet, opening up the container and fishing around for some cotton pads.

“Do you have a name, mister?”

He clears his throat, trying to gage your reaction once he speaks, attempting to work out if the name rings any bells. “Uh, yeah. John B. John B. Routledge. You might’ve… actually heard of me. If you have, uh— I’m sorry.”

You don’t seem to react in any kind of alarming way, a smile grazing your face as you pour rubbing alcohol onto a soft white pad.

“Heard of you how? Are you famous?”

“…You’ve never seen those big ‘Wanted’ posters up in town? Kinda got my picture up on one of them.”

You peel up his shirt revealing tanned, toned skin and a wound that had crusted over with blood. You press the pad to it and he winces, knuckles turning white in his lap and head lulling back against the seat for a moment.

“Sorry.” You furrow your brows apologetically before continuing to mop up all the dried blood. “Oh, and I’m not allowed up in town. Not by myself anyway. So, I don’t keep up to date with all that… stuff.” You pull away, rifling through the box for another clean pad. He nods, eyes jumping to look at his wound and then back to you, watching your face for any discomfort regarding his presence. Oddly, there was none. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s wildly apparent now that you’ve truly been sheltered your whole life. There was this innocence you carried that was hard to come by, a lack of judgement that was sweet but made him worry for you slightly. You were lucky he had a good heart.

“That’s… probably for the best, actually. You know, they like to tell lies. I’m being falsely accused.” He speaks a little slower, and enunciates the last part as if you might not understand, and as expected— you hang onto every word, lips a little parted and wide eyed. It’s pretty cute, albeit inappropriate considering he’s a stranger.

As he speaks, you wrap his wound, pressing the sticky part down onto his skin before gently pressing the cotton covering his injury. “Well I’m really sorry about that John B. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You chirp, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss over the dressing, pulling back to offer him a sweet smile. The lines on John B’s forehead smooth out, his concerned expression melting into his own gentle smile of disbelief.

He wonders what the odds are that he’d stumbled upon a real life angel. Well, it was that — or you wanted to chop his body into tiny pieces whilst he slept and add it to your cauldron. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet, but you were pretty — and he was a total loverboy, so stupidly he was willing to take that risk.

He pulls his shirt back down over his now dressed wound and you begin to clear your things back into the first aid box.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Like, anything you need help with around here?” He offers and you look up at him, brows furrowing with adoration.

“Goodness, no— I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“Said you needed an extra pair of hands earlier.” He challenges with a smile.

“I only said that to get you to come inside. With your injury, I couldn’t possibly put you to work.”

He scrunches his face a little with a half scoff, half smile and shrugs one shoulder. “Please, this thing? It barely even stings. Come oooon.” He croons with a smirk, and you really feel the full effects of his charm now— the warm timbre of his voice headed straight to your clit giving it a heartbeat of its own.

“Fine.” It comes out airy with a giddy smile and you take his hand yet again, almost getting distracted by the coarseness against your palm, the sight of bulging veins along the backs of them.

Your bare feet are treading lightly over soft wood chip once more as you lead him toward the destroyed fence round the left side perimeter of the farm.

“So… I suppose you could carry all the planks back from the fence that fell down in that awful storm last week. I was gonna wait for my daddy to get home to get him to do it ‘cus I’m much too weak for something like that.” You point, and John B’s brown fluffy head follows your finger to the destination at hand. He nods, a doable task.

“Well a girl like you shouldn’t be lifting a finger anyway.” He turns his head back to face you with a smile, eyes squinted in the sun. He looks radiant, no sign of pain anymore and you look down at your night gown, scrunching it in your clammy hands with an uncontrollable grin at the floor, harbouring such an innocent crush on the boy already that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

His gaze stays on you for a tick whilst you step quietly and he speaks up again, tilting his head a little inquisitively. “I really, really hope this doesn’t sound rude… ‘cus I don’t mean to be. But… are you not… married?” He trails off, thinking of all the times he’s been walloped round the head in taverns for asking questions of a similar nature. Your smile doesn’t go away, your gentle nature not retiring for a moment.

“Oh no, no. I don’t meet boys often. Thats why I’m happy you came!” You chirp, hand reaching out to softly squeeze his arm. “Can be like husband and wife whilst you stay round.”

He just laughs in response. Not necessarily in a mean way, but the same way you laugh when a child tells you they’re going to be an astronaut when they grow up.

The brutal beating of the sun does nothing to stop the honest work you’d put the self proclaimed outlaw up to, he seems to be deep in thought often — carrying the planks to and fro. You slip inside for a while to change into something more appropriate, a sweet and floral sundress that ties up at the straps and hugs you in a more womanly way. You’d rubbed your lips together as you fixed your hair in the mirror before bringing him a sandwich in the early afternoon. “You are adorable.” He grins when you do so, and it wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for on your dress but it still made you warm in the face. He simply brought out a true primal bodily reaction from you— that’s why you’d skipped the panties under your dress. He was making you excited and slippery down there and you just didn’t see the point. You stay out for hours at a time to chat with him. Your affections grow.

John B. Routledge finally returns back to the house when he’s all finished and you let him lay down for a nap on your couch, finally getting some real rest in. Whilst he does so, you spend hours preparing a hearty meal — the type you reserve for when mama and papa have guests round. As the pie browns off just a moment longer in the oven, you come to the man’s side, kneeling beside him and stroking his fluffy hair back.

“I made dinner. Sure you’re really hungry.” You whisper and his eyes flutter once more, the arms that were crossed over his chest stretching out as he wakes. You sit back to give him space, and when he opens his eyes you’re there with a smile — the orange beam of sunset haloing your head. Something about an angel drafts through his mind once more and he stretches.

“Oh boy, I slept longer than I was meant to huh?” He sits up and you shrug, leading him through to the kitchen where you’d laid the round table. Steaming seasoned vegetables in a bowl, freshly picked by you. Warm bread, baked and scored by you with flowers the centrepiece of the table. A jug of gravy there too. There’s a tray of mashed potatoes waiting, creamy and delicious looking. Routledges stomach audibly growls and he chuckles at this as he sits down, taking in the scenery you’d laid out. “You… have spoiled me. All this for someone who breaks into your barn?” He chuckles as he lowers himself into the seat.

You follow him round the table with a giddy smile. “Told you I like havin’ guests.” You perch your bottom on his leg, an arm wrapped around his neck as your feet swing. It felt right. You’d always wanted to sit with a man this way, you’d seen it before in the picture shows. Man and wife, domestic bliss. His brows jump up and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“Oh… sweetheart, you shouldn’t do that. I am a— a stranger, after all.” He tries to do the responsible thing, even though there was something about your innocent brashness that was turning him on beyond belief. Your eyebrows knit in the centre, a line between them and your bottom lip seems to have doubled in size from how it pushes out.

“But I like you?” You mewl, rejected. It all seems so simple to you, which is probably feels super unfair. No one had taught you how to address men because you were so sheltered, and now it was giving you all of these complicated feelings that John B would have to deal with.

“And I like you — a whole bunch. You know I’m super grateful for you taking me in and… all that good stuff. But sitting right here is gonna… make me excited. Because I’m a guy. Go ahead and hop off for me.” He taps your lower back gently and you huff, feeling upset and rejected about the whole thing. His eyes are all wide and hopeful as he stares at you, like he wanted to make sure you were okay. The way he handles you so sweetly made your stomach stir despite your current mope.

You drag your feet to the oven comically and he stifles a chuckle at how dramatic you were, despite his sympathy. You place your hands into oven gloves and take out the pie— perfect and golden. You walk it to the table and John B sits up a little straighter, eyes darting between you and the food.

“Did this all by yourself? You have got a real knack for cooking. Should put you on the TV.” He grins, switching on the charm to attempt to loosen up your silent sulk. You nod, eyes casted down childishly and he reaches out to touch your arm. “Thank you, pretty girl.”

A small smile slips out, and he flickers his eyes over to the heart shape you’d scored onto the pie, his own lips twitching up into a smirk. “That for me?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.”

You end up giggling, his smile too infectious and your bad moment is all forgotten as you serve him a slice, plating up for him and then yourself before you eat. John B digs in ravenously, it’s almost erotic — the way he’s groaning at how good it all tastes, gravy dripping from his lips as he licks more off his fingers. He was clearly less proper-mannered than you, but you liked that. Table manners were for boring old people anyway. Maybe everything about him got you going, but you had to really concentrate on getting some food inside you instead of just watching the show of eating he was putting on.

Once you’re finished, and he’s finishing up on his third helping — you let your giggles die down from the wild goose chase story he relayed for you, one where he of course wound up the hero which only made your heart beat harder for him. Your socked foot begins to prod at his ankle, sliding up his leg until it rests in his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind, the food having lowered his guard just that bit as he leans back in his chair, undoing his belt. He adjusts his hips on the seat as he does so and your thighs clench.

“So what did you think?” You ask, though you think it’s clear that he liked the meal from the empty plates and unbuckled belt. He lets out a long satisfied sigh, gazing at you for a moment with a kind smile.

“I think, whoever gets to marry you is a lucky son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together, almost like he was disappointed about the idea of you with another. You blink, the hands resting beneath your chin dreamily slowly falling to play with eachother on the table.

“Why not you, John B?” You question sadly, giving him those eyes again. The ones that tug on his heart and made him wanna give you everything and anything you ask for. He lifts a napkin, bringing it to his mouth as he shakes his head dismissively, closing his eyes with a frown.

“Mm—mm.” The tissue fabric muffles the sound. “You don’t wanna marry me, believe me — okay, I’m an outlaw. Your parents would never in a billion years accept me. Anyway you… you deserve someone less rough and tumble, you know? Like a prince from a storybook. A bubblewrap life. Not… whatever this is.” He gestures to himself, more so the browned blood stain on his shirt.

You sigh, determined. “My parents would understand. They’re — they’re generous people.”

“Really? ‘Cus they don’t even let you leave the house.” He quips quickly in response, smirking at your naivety and you fall silent for a moment. His face flattens just a tad from guilt. You were far too soft for that kind of tone.

When you look up at him again, your face is more solemn — wide eyes searching his for a shred of understanding. “You don’t understand, John B. There are actual scary, dangerous men out there that would take me and do terrible things to me.”

The outlaw leans his elbows on the table, his lips stretched into an amused smile at the irony. There wasn’t an inkling of threat about the gesture, pure amusement coursing through the energy between you from his side alone. “And how do you know I’m not one of those scary, dangerous men. Hm?” His voice is warm, it seems to rumble straight from his chest. You release a shaky sigh.

“Well you haven’t hurt me yet?” Your voice lilts out, and you engage in a long stare off. There’s a different kind of tension in the air now, it’s hot and feels heavy on you. It oozes into the nooks and crannies of your balmy skin and slithers between your thighs. You can’t take the heat and you stand, beginning to bring his dishes to the sink to wash. It’s quiet for a while, John B watching you with this thoughtful and almost knowing smile as you tidy up around him. Even he couldn’t run from how good ‘domestic bliss’ felt.

You let yourself indulge in the fantasy too. Wife cleans up, husband sits behind at the table and sips at the drink she poured him. You wanted nothing more than to experience this everyday, and your heart sinks sadly at the fact that this will probably be the last. You lose yourself to thoughts and daydreams as you scrub away, to the point you nearly don’t hear him stand up, slowly walking to lean against the sink beside you.

You smile at him politely as he eyes you, and return your gaze to the plate in your hand. You mustn’t dwell. He moves, and soon he’s behind you, a hand resting against the sink beside your hip, head craning round to look at you from the other side. “You’re really serious about this husband and wife thing, aren’t you?”

“Very serious, sir.” You bat your lashes at him earnestly and his cock stirs in his pants at the title, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Bless your heart, you were only being courteous. He presses his lips together in thought and the side of your face warms with his slow exhale. Turning your body, you face him fully now. “I just think it was divine intervention that you wound up in my barn. You’re like an angel sent to take away my loneliness.” You’re shy, a little bashful about your beliefs and without thinking he cups your cheek in reassurance, thumb swiping slowly over the skin.

His eyes take in your every detail, and your lips part with a wobbly breath, nervous. “May I kiss you, John B?” You address, just as his thumb strokes the delicate skin below your eye. He grins, slightly amused by your formality and simply nods his head.

You stand on tip toes to reach him, socked feet almost knocking at his boots as your body presses to his, lips meeting. You’re a little messy, inexperienced— which comes as no surprise to the boy as he tilts his head, welcoming your mouth at another angle and taking control in order to guide you. You’re mostly a quick learner, slowing your pace to something much more sultry and he nearly can’t contain his excitement. He wants to be a gentleman, but as soon as he introduces his tongue — you lose composure, needy and all but panting into his mouth right then and there in the kitchen. He pulls away and breaks the string of saliva that connects your lips with his thumb, stroking it over your moist bottom lip as you stare at him readily.

He tilts his head, eyes wide and almost innocent as he gestures away. “You… want me to show you what husbands do with their wives?”

You nod so hard your eyes nearly roll back like one of those baby-dolls.

John B is the one to take your hand this time, leading you slowly and carefully through the house. You partially think he’s giving himself time to rethink what he’s about to do, but from the way your pussy is drooling into your panties — it feels set in stone. He finally reaches your bedroom and you watch his head move left and right as he takes it in, cheek lifting with a smile at the China dolls on the wall and the frilly white bedsheets. It’s clear your room hasn’t changed since you were a little girl. The sun is just starting to disappear behind your lace curtains and he switches on the lamp, sitting you down.

The man joins you, easing himself down at your side and cupping your cheek as he begins to kiss you again. He takes it slow, but the passion and need only grows as the splayed hand on your back begins to slide upwards until its cupping the back of your head and he’s beginning to slowly lower you to lie down like you’re made of glass.

Naturally you shuffle up the bed and he follows, hovering over you and leading with his tongue this time — the wet muscles wrapping around eachother languidly making you moan, legs falling wider apart.

“I wanna make you feel really good, okay? That okay with you?” He asks gently and you nod, sucking in a breath. You’d waited for something like this since you knew what pleasure was, craved the touch of a man with strong coarse hands and a wet mouth. Routledges thumbs swipe across your tits through your dress, massaging them until your nipples were poking painfully through the fabric as he burrows into your neck, licking and sucking.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as he tugs gently at your dress, eyes meeting yours once more.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?”

He tugs the garment up and over, puffing out his cheeks as he blows air out his mouth, brows raised at the sight of your naked body. You look so soft, so pliable beneath him. He was already hard just from kissing you, but this made him feel like he might combust. “Took your underwear off?” He smirks, pressing kisses to your stomach and between your tits before bringing his face up to eye level with you, same kind but teasing smile on his face. “Have you been needing me aaall day? Hm?”

You turn your head to the side, flustered and clammy with a whine— eyes screwed shut. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh, now you’re shy?”

“No, s’just — when you speak like that— n’say stuff like that… makes me hurt…” You’re breathless, hips twitching and bucking slightly as he grins, pearly whites showing.

“Aw.” Is all he manages before continuing his descent down.

He’s a real tease, spending an ungodly amount of time on your tits— sucking, licking and biting your nipples until you’re arched off the bed, teary eyed and wincing from sensitivity. It’s then, and only then he starts to kiss lower, pushing himself down your pristine sheets until he’s settling between your legs, gently easing your ankles upwards so that your knees faced the sky, your cunt fluttering and open right infront of his face.

“Well she’s very pretty.” He smiles up at you, thumbs coming up to spread you. He leans in slowly, hot breath fanning over your heat before he simply presses the softest kiss to your clit. He draws back again as you whimper, running the pads of his thumbs up along your spread folds. “Hear that? So wet, pretty girl.” He marvels in a whisper.

“Just want you to make it better.” You mewl and he nods slowly in understanding, tongue swiping over his lips as he observes you.

“That I can definitely do.” He confirms before leaning in, licking and sucking at your clit as his thumb automatically rolls downwards to massage your hole. You gasp, knees shooting up towards your chest as he eats you, similarly to the pure fervour and passion he only recently devoured the meal you cooked for him. You wondered how any appetite remained.

When he sinks his middle finger inside you, your stomach tenses — a high pitched noise of relief and utter devastation leaving you. You had no idea how badly you’d craved fullness to this very moment, and you weren’t even halfway there. He’s smiling against you, glancing up as you flutter around his single digit and make plenty of noise for him. “Yeah? Think you’ve really been needing some of that, little girl.” He nearly laughs at your extreme reaction. He had to admit, it was fun doing this with someone so inexperienced. Everything to you seemed like the best thing ever.

He eats and eats away, proving himself to have quite the monstrous appetite for your slick . Your feet rest on his shoulders at one point, lost in pleasure as you whine and writhe and to keep you out of the way, the outlaw pushes your legs up and pins them there, nose deep in your gloss.

“Feels too good— feels— hurts!” You cry, because you don’t know how to put that you’re simply aching to cum.

“Doesn’t hurt, sweet girl. Just let it happen.” He corrects in that low reverberation that you’ve grown to love. After a series of ‘Uh’ and ‘Mm’s, you feel yourself hitting that peak — the one you usually reach all over the soft cotton of your pillow, but ten times the strength.

As soon as he senses this happening, he doubles down and continues repeating the same action with his mouth over and over until you’re squealing and pushing him away, curling into a ball as your completion dribbles out of your quivering hole.

He grins, real proud of himself as he pushes up on his hands to near you, gently shushing you the same way you would to soothe a baby to sleep. “I know, that was a lot huh?” He coo’s, rubbing your back with his warm hand as you suffer the aftershocks, clenching and whimpering, a smaller clammy hand reaching out to his shirt to grab a fist of it.

He forces you softly onto your back, stroking a hand over your warm forehead. For someone so convinced the two of you shouldn’t be together, he sure did look at you like you were his entire world. By the gaze shared, you would never know the two of you only met that morning.

“What now, hm?” He smiles, quiet. You open your mouth to speak, and your voice rasps from the loud and explosive release that had you calling out.

“Wanna… make you feel as good as you made me feel, John B.”

He licks his lips, thinking over it. If it wasn’t already clear, his dick was throbbing in his pants just from pleasing you— and had you wanted to end things there he would be sure to take a trip to the bathroom to finish in his hand. Maybe swipe a pair of your underwear from the basin for inspiration, but that made his stomach tense with guilt.

“Think I can manage that, yeah.” He nods before reaching slowly for his belt. “Sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, good.”

His belt is still undone from after dinner so he slides the snakey leather from its loops with one hand, the act more attractive than you anticipated which made you clench once more with need. He sits on the edge of the bed and you usher up beside him, pressing your naked body to him and ghosting your drooly lips over his jaw line as he sighs, working his length out of his pants.

“Oh my.” You breathe, as soon as you look down. Now you hadn’t had much experience in dealing with the male anatomy, clearly — but you knew for certain John B had to be miles larger than the average man. His cock stood tall, straight — slightly mauve towards the tip with a beautiful blue vein drifting down his shaft like a river on a mountain. His balls sat beneath, heavy and pink — inviting in a way that made your mouth water primally.

“Yeah? This is… what m’working with.” He chuckles, sounding a little nervous.

“How do I…” You mutter after a moment and he’s quick to take your hand, pressing your fingers so that it forms a cup and bringing it to your mouth.

“You wanna spit for me, pretty? Right here.” He encourages and whilst you don’t understand, you do as he wishes, letting a bubbly glob of saliva drool out into the cupped crevice of your hand. You look up at him with wide unsure eyes, searching for praise or reassurance that you’d done as he asked. He presses his lips together at the sweet and submissive expression, shifting his hips a tad in excitement. “Mm, fuck.” He punctuates with an airy chuckle, ticking his head in a single shake.

He brings your hand down and begins to smear it all over himself, releasing a shaky exhale as he does so. “So, uh… you’re gonna wanna move your hand. Just like this.” He sighs as he works your hand up and down his shaft, slowly jerking him off. Your eyes flicker between his face and pretty dick to make sure you were doing it right. As you do so, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, muttering a “So sweet, bubba.” Against your mouth.

This only encourages you to gain confidence, doing whatever feels right. You twist your hand— squeezing just a tad harder towards the tip as that seemed to be what made him release that heavenly groan, jaw constantly agape as he watches your hand.

“Theeere you go sweetheart. Easy right? Like milking a cow.” He kisses your temple briskly once more before his eyes screw shut, chest heaving with quicker breaths. You get carried away, fascinated by the pearly precum that seeps from his slit as you work him with your hand and following your own judgment you lean down. You figure if he used his mouth on you, you could return the favour.

His eyes open with a loud shudder when you tentatively wrap your plush lips around his tip, working your hand up and down to try and squeeze more of the interesting salty flavour from him. You let out a long drawn out moan of your own as you feel your clit throbbing with desire, liberating his precum from your mouth to let it dribble back down his shaft in messy bubbles.

He winces, placing a hand on your shoulder and removing you with such an abrupt speed that you nearly flew off the side of the bed. You sit up straight, slick mouth pouting as your eyes flicker between his, worrying that you’d done something wrong. There’s a second of just looking at eachother, before you stumble over some words.

“S—Sorry. Did I hurt—”

“No, no God no. I uh— I just wasn’t sure if I should make a mess all over that pretty face just yet.” His wide eyed expression melts into a reassuring smile, thumb rising to swipe lovingly at your cheek. You lick your lips, savouring the taste of him and nod — not quite sure where to go from there.

Your silence makes him question, and he eyes you. “Is there… anything in particular you want now?”

You think, blinking your doll-like eyelashes off into the distance before nodding once more— pushing off away from him and scurrying to the head of the bed where you lay yourself gently on the pillows.

“Hm?” He follows up in confusion, craning his neck round to watch you.

“Would… like a baby now, please.” You spread your legs a little, shy and bashful in your request like you wasn’t sure if you’d asked impolitely. His face falls as he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes, rubbing over his face with an exasperated chuckle, elbows on his knees.

As you stare at him with with an upset little pout, already ashamed by your forwardness. “Like husband and wife?” You try to justify and he sighs out his nose, turning his body fully to you.

“Oh sweet girl.” He tugs you gently lower toward him by your hips, rubbing his thumbs at your waist. “We just met.”

You launch into full fledged begging, whiny and high pitched with tears threatening to dive over their trough. “I’ll make you so happy John B, I’ll make all your problems go away and you won’t have to run anymore. Please?” You were deadset on this man giving you your dream life, and you’d officially pushed shame to the side in order to get this. His brow is permanently creased, staring with those big wide puppy dog eyes, continually stroking your skin in hopes to calm you.

“Are you… sure that’s what you want? You’re still young. So much time for all that.”

“Just want it now. I’d never be lonely again.” You sound defeated, staring down away from him now. He felt bad, he’d always hated disappointing people. Once upon a time he was a fixer, always running to his friends aid to make their problems go away. That urge never died, just burned low and quiet like an old candle flame. He wanted to make your problems go away too.

“Okay.” He presses his lips together. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.”

He watches your devastated expression lift into a radiant grin, and it was like watching the sun appear from behind a grey cloud after weeks of downcast weather. “Yeah?” You chirp toothily as he crawls over you, leaking tip grazing your tummy and then your folds as he buries his face into your neck.

“Uh-huh.”

When he pushes his tip inside, John B says a prayer for the first time in his life.

He’d never really followed any religion. His father had been the type to say it was all a bunch of ‘Mumbo jumbo’ and that he should believe in the human psyche instead, or something like that. But as your wet folds swallow him and you release that high pitched mewl at the inevitable stretch — he finds himself asking God — please, please don’t let me knock this young girl up.

There’s a warm blanket of chills that cover his spine as he slowly sheathes inside of you, feeling like he was pushing deeper and deeper into a black hole that would selfishly keep sucking him inside for the rest of his life. It felt too good, calming — like falling asleep. He was euphoric.

“So — so big inside me!” Your cry knocks him out of his thoughts and he kisses your shoulder before looking down to watch himself push in all the way to the hilt.

“Feel okay, gorgeous?”

You nod, a pained whine falling from you as you dig your nails into his skin, walls fluttering around him like they were constantly trying to accommodate for this thickness. “Fuck.” He groans, before sliding back a little and starting to thrust. Yeah, he wasn’t gonna last too long— he needed to get to work on you fast.

As he gently fucks into you, your plush tits recoil with the movement and he can’t close his mouth, sounds and sighs leaving him without permission. A hand slides between the two of you, the other pulling his shirt up to grip between his teeth— giving himself a better view of the way he strokes at your clit — your legs being spread exposing it, making it easier for him.

You clench, and shudder — that sweet face contorting with each time his tip ever so slightly grazes your cervix, careful not to bruise it. You really were beautiful, that type of homely beauty he’d thought of marrying in his lonely nights of travelling through desert and grass. The type of girl you work for, the type that deserves spoiling, princess treatment. The more he fucks, the more he’s convincing himself that impregnating you might not be the most awful thing after all. Why should he chase away security?

Your fingertips grace his chest, and he takes your hand — pinning it to the bed as your fingers intertwine, using the grip to aid his rolling thrusts— speeding up the pace and force now he knew you could take it like a champ. His mouth opens to speak, and his shirt drops out of it.

“Taking me real good baby. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” He coo’s and you can only nod, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes before rolling down to your temples. Poor thing, lost for words.

There’s a wet slapping sound with each thrust, your cunt equally gushing as it was thirsty — hungrily welcoming each inch of his, and even demanding more by locking your ankles around his lower back. Perhaps you did it for comfort, or perhaps because you suspected a hesitance, the threat of him pulling out last minute too much for your baby-crazed brain.

“Jesus. Sweet little puppy.” He breathes like it’s a revelation beneath your ear, the curly tuft of hair above his shaft tickling you as he continues to rub your clit.

“S’gonna happen again, John B. The big feeling.” You strain, eyes clamped shut and sniffling— too overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. He kisses each eye lid and watches you closely, experiencing you unfold once more.

“Thats my good girl. Let me have it, pup. Gimme a good one.”

You’re an explosion of whimpers and moans, thrashing under his firm grip once more— and he’s not sure when your orgasm ends, if it even ends at all— he doesn’t care, the release pushing him close to his own. He speeds up his pace, hand that was at your clit now wrapping around your lower back, forearm pushing your lower half up and against him, forcing you to just keep taking him.

He was like a beast from a fairytale book, fucking wildly into you with a primal determination that had you struggling to breathe. You’re crying now, full out crying because it’s just so much. There’s still one last thing you require, and only he can give you it.

“You wanna make me daddy, huh?” He demands, that gentleness in his voice gone. It’s nearly unrecognisable from him, and you preen beneath the rough touch.

“Mhm!”

“Words.” He barks. He didn’t mean to be mean, he just got a little bossy when he was close. You’d come to learn that.

“Please give me a baby. Please just — make you a daddy! Need it!” You’re squealing, voice shaking from the hard ‘plap plap plap’ of his balls slapping against you. You feel you might pass out if this goes on much longer.

He releases with a long groan, lips dropping to the centre of your chest and back arching upwards. You register his sounds before you feel it, hot slimy ropes of him— shooting up inside you, warming your walls. You moan too, because it feels so good to be full. It feels right, like this was what had been missing after all.

Everything is a blur for the next few minutes. It’s like you black out a little, because maybe you forgot to be breathing like you should have been. You briefly recall John B scooping you up and helping you through that, ignoring the gooey seed dripping from you to cradle you like a baby, humming a calm “Breathe, sweetheart. In and out. With me, c’mon.” Your gentle boy was back, and through your haze you smile.

Once you’re tucked at his side beneath a soft cotton blanket, his hand stroking over your head after cleaning you up, a whispered conversation ensues.

“Do you really like me John B? Like, you really think I’m beautiful?” You inquire, gazing up at him with stuck together black eyelashes. The question was so innocent, yet he could tell it was so meaningful.

His expression doesnt falter, a gentle smile sat comfortably on his lips as he continues to pet you. “Baby, I think you’re the ponds swan. Just… gotta get to know you a little better, okay? ‘Specially if I really did put a baby in you.” Only then his smile falters, brows knitting as the reality sets in. Oh Lord.

“Okay.” Your eyes flutter closed, happy to leave it at that, happy to fall asleep right by his side under his watchful eye. It was unnerving how safe a lonely girl could feel with a stranger.

“Okay. Good girl. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” He quietly reassures, watching you drift off. He’s not sure if he’s trying to dispel your fears, or his own.

[onsomenewsht]

Aching legs that often told us it’s all worth it

About when you just win everything and you just want a hug

》 Barcelona Femini x Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader

》 word count: +2k

》 cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quique amavit cras amet [latin verse]: let the one love tomorrow who has never loved, and let the one who has loved love tomorrow

It’d be hypocritical to say you have never imagined this moment, that you have never dreamt of this exact moment. It’d be hypocritical to say that you have never, in the comfort of your bathroom, lifted a bottle of shampoo picturing this very trophy.

But no dream nor bottle of shampoo can remotely come close to how you feel when the referee blows the whistle three times, proclaiming your club the winner of the Champions League.

The legs, which just until a moment ago were close to giving up under the weight of an intense and stressful 90 minutes of running back and forth, suddenly sprint towards the centre of the pitch to join the Blaugrana bubble.

Screams and celebrations in more languages than you can recognise can’t bother you as you know well enough you’re all saying the same thing, you’re all sharing and expressing the same joy.

“Non ci credo!” [I don’t believe this!], Giulia jumps on your back without a care – the excitement to win such a big competition at such a young age fills you with pride.

What a bright future these kids have in front of them.

“Credici, it’s the first of many”

You’re optimistic tonight, it’s the first Champions League for you too after all.

You carry her around the pitch for five good minutes, hugging and cheering with every single teammate you meet in your path. The Italian girl gets dragged away not long after to join the kids’ groups.

You don’t mind it too much, you feel too old to keep up with their endless energy anyway.

For the first time since the end of the game you find yourself looking around, looking for a blonde woman – probably hidden behind a ridiculous hat.

It’s Keira who manages to catch your attention, screaming in that incomprehensible accent of hers right in your ears and dragging you towards the podium.

The trophy ceremony flies in a blur of cheers and confetti, despite your best attempts to savour every single minute of this incredible and historic win.

When, between pictures and out-of-key chants, a moment of apparent calm arrives, and you take advantage of it to look in the stands for your family.

At least the journey was not in vain this time.

The wrinkles around your mom’s mouth are a clear sign she’s been smiling for hours, the watery eyes of your father are the clearest expression of pride you will get from him. You hug them both for as long as they allow you, still reserving your biggest hug for your brother.

No sign of her yet.

“Here I was, thinking I couldn’t be more proud of you”.

You can’t hold back your tears.

After all, he’s your biggest and longest supporter, cheering for you since you used to play with boys double your age and size.

“Shut up and let me hug Andrea”, you say, reaching for your excited nephew.

The attention the toddler gives you is long enough to admire your medal and to kick a couple of times towards the goal when you let him onto the pitch. As soon as he spots Claudia, recently declared his favourite player ever, he sprints in her direction to steal her from Patri. You let him be, there’s Irene with the group of barely-grown-ups.

You don’t hold back a laugh as you see María run out of nowhere, her flag secured in one hand and a contagious smile on her face. You can’t wait to see her play again.

Then the sudden realisation you’re alone hits you hard. You’re alone, not too far away from the middle of the pitch. As much alone someone can be in the middle of a Champions League final celebration, but alone nonetheless.

Around you, teammates and friends and families are gathered in different bubbles, jumping and cheering without much of a care. The stands are filled with Blaugrana colours, singing loud and proud.

For the first time today, you let yourself get carried away by the supporters’ passion, admiring every single corner of the stadium as the privileged spectator of your own story.

You just witnessed a moment in football’s history.

You’d cry if not for the fitted body that crushes into you unexpectedly, bringing you back to the green grass without much effort.

“La poeta!”

“La reina!”

You share with Alexia a hug way more intense and sentimental than what you’re used to. You let emotion overcome you one more time as the captain holds you firmly, large hands caressing your back and keeping you present.

Her eyes are as shining as her all self, this victory means so much more than the obvious for most of you.

“You had to come in and score just like that, celebrate just like that”

“¿Qué puedo decir?” [What can I say?], the blonde shrugs her shoulders, but after years of friendship you can tell when the fine line between being humble and being aware of your own greatness blurs.

Alexia holds your face between her hands, the smirk painted on her lips shifts slightly to a more serious smile.

“Te lo mereces, lo sabes?” [You know you deserve this, right?]

“We all do”

“No, no, you deserve this”, she says firmly, addressing the elephant in the room dressed as the loan that last year broke your confidence.

You were there in Turin, it looked like a twist of fate to be away from Barcelona when they lifted the most beautiful trophy in Europe’s football.

This victory means more to you than what you’re willing to admit, even to yourself.

That’s one of the reasons why you’re still looking for her in the crowd.

“Enough with this mushy stuff, where’s my favourite Putellas?”

“Lo juro, si no dejas de hablar así de mi hermana–” [I swear, if you keep talking like this of my sister–]

“Oh, I was talking about your mom, but now that we’re on it–”

The punch she throws on your arm is light, but the message is clear. You and Alba have too much fun provoking Alexia, who is way overprotective of the both of you to realise that the jokes are only aimed at annoying her.

Feeling called upon, the two women join you with huge smiles on their faces. Eli welcomes you with a motherly hug, somehow sensing the tension on your shoulders.

“¿Qué es esa mala cara?” [Why the long face?]

“She can’t find her girlfriend”

“¡Alba, callate!”

Alexia raises an eyebrow at her sister’s quip, not happy to be let out about this.

She doesn’t know about the situationship you find yourself in. It’s not like you don’t trust the blonde, you do. But you’re aware of the protective tendencies and, on top of everything, you’re a bit scared of the lecture about the importance of being honest with your feelings and all that shit.

She’s too emotionally mature now.

Luckily, Olga comes running to meet you, distracting the captain from any inquisitive question without much effort.

“You’re disgusting”, you say to Alexia, now used to her open smile and carefree attitude whenever her girlfriend is close enough to light up her usually stoic face.

“¡Oy!”

“I wasn’t talking about Olga, I like Olga”, you state, dropping an arm around Alba’s shoulder who immediately joins the joke, “Yeah, lovesick Alexia is scary”

Eli has to intervene, still laughing at her daughter’s expense.

“They’re just jealous”

Olga’s right, you can hide it from everyone but yourself. You’re definitely a little envious of the cute relationship and happiness that seem to follow your friend like a glowing shadow.

You want a love like that too.

Your gaze starts wandering around the pitch once again, hoping to find the person who’s hunting your dreams and nightmares.

You know she’s here, you overheard Keira talking about her before the game.

She’s just not here for you.

Quickly excusing yourself from the Putellas’ family, muttering something about looking for your nephew to relieve anyone who found themselves babysitting, you bid your goodbye.

Before you can get away Alexia hugs you one last time, letting you know you’re not escaping her questions.

You find Andrea easily, entertained as he runs around followed shortly by another child – Mapi.

“Oh, wow, it’s like looking at your future!”, you teasingly nod at Ingrid, who’s way too entranced by the scene.

The Norwegian just grins, holding you as she kisses your forehead, always amused about the height difference. Her silence is loud enough.

Another jolt of jealousy strikes your body, immediately subsided by the reassuring presence of the defender and the loving gaze reserved for the enthusiastic Spanish woman nearby.

You couldn’t hate them even if you wanted to, they’re too beautiful together and you’re too happy for them.

When your nephew finally notices you, he seems to remember you actually are his favourite person. He outruns María, literally jumping between your arms – risking falling on his face just once by tripping over the flag that one of your teammates must have tied around his neck like a cape.

“¡Visca Barça!”

“Your father supports Milan”

“Ser del Barça es el millor que hi ha!”, he states in an impressive Catalan.

“Who taught you that?”

The kid points at Aitana and Jana, both sporting a smug grin all over their faces as they greet you from close by. The latter is lucky you’re feeling merciful enough to not embarrass her in front of her girlfriend.

You can just shake your head and laugh about the situation.

“You can give Keira Spanish lessons”, you say to Andrea as you position him comfortably on your shoulders.

You try to be subtle as you observe all the people on the pitch. If anyone asks, you are simply looking for your brother in the crowd of Blaugrana to return the child to its rightful owner.

Even if your brother is not a gorgeous footballer you can’t get out of your mind.

Of course you find him in a conversation with Keira.

“Tell me more about this high school suspension”, you hear the English midfielder ask.

“Tell her absolutely nothing!”

The chat goes on for a few more minutes, you’re a little ashamed to admit that you’re not listening to a single word as you still look around.

It’s your nephew who brings you back to reality, pulling you by the collar of your medal. You quickly bid your goodbyes to both of them, making sure you can meet again before they have to go back home and you have to be dragged into all the post-final engagements.

“You’re hopeless”

“What?”

“You’re both unbelievable”

“Where is your girlfriend? You’re bearable when Laura is around”

“She’s somewhere with your girlfriend”

At her obvious taunt, your gaze still flies in all the directions your neck humanely allows.

You really are hopeless.

Keira’s laugh is the final nail in the coffin, the only one amused about the situation.

She’s also the one who introduced you to the person you thought would just be a fun night out over a year ago, the person who turned out to be comforting and a constant thought.

The person who makes you realise midair you’re falling in love.

No strings attached though.

“Go to her!”

“She’s not here for me”

“Don’t drag me in, you useless stubborn–”

The blonde has a point, you can’t deny that the mutual friendship is the perfect excuse to find each other in the same places at the same time. The perfect opportunity to see each other again as much as possible without questioning the blurred line between an armless fuck and growing feelings.

Nights of fun soon turned into morning talks in the warmth of a hotel bed, then whole days spent exploring each other’s lives.

If only one of you dares to admit wanting more.

“Ohi, champ!”

As you hear her voice you never turn around so fast in your life, almost injuring yourself from the force with which you move. You don’t even hear Keira bust out laughing at your side.

“Hi”

“Ciao”

What a stupid smile you have on your face, just staring at each other a few steps away.

You’re sweaty and tired from the match and the celebrations, pretty sure your hair is a mess and your legs are on the verge of giving up. Yet she thinks she has never seen you more beautiful.

“Oh, for fuck’ sake, just kiss or whatever”, Keira grabs you both by an arm when neither of you makes any sign of moving, impatiently pushing you closer to the other and leaving, muttering something you’re not sure you want to know.

“Don’t run too far, you still have an interview in Catalan to do”

You don’t hear your friend’s response, you don’t even see her finger up in the air. When Leah laughs every other sound and person fades into the background.

“Can’t wait for that to happen”

“You and any other culés”

A few more moments pass before the blonde adds, “I think congratulations are in order”, pointing to the medal you wear around your neck – suddenly heavier.

“Thank you”, you whisper, lowering your gaze and nervously turning the object over in your hands.

You don’t need to see her, always hyper aware of her presence around you. You feel her approaching and enveloping you in a warm embrace, the hug you’ve been waiting for all day.

You have to admit to yourself it’s the best you’ve received today.

[leahwllmsn]

love of her life

leah williamson x reader

alexia putellas x reader

You found someone new.

part of the loml series

It was going great, you admitted.

You had been to dinner with Leah a couple of times but it was never just the two of you, and never with the intention of a date. So it felt different.

Leah was flirting the whole night—not something new—but this time you did reciprocate (despite your wariness at first). And it felt great.

When Lucy introduced you to Leah when she was visiting Barcelona, you thought Leah was the cockiest girl to ever walk this planet. Her ego was through the roof, she had the attitude of a teenage boy most of the time, and she walked around like she was some big hotshot—which was true, but the smugness can be infuriating at times.

But the next thing you knew, Leah was all you could think about.

It was embarrassingly too easy for Leah to slip into your life. Despite acting like fuckgirl #1, Leah was the most romantic person ever. She was sweet; she always opened the car door for you, she always bought you flowers with a card that explained why she chose those specific flowers for you… You could think of a million other romantic gestures she did just yesterday alone.

You couldn’t remember why you were so adamant on not giving her a chance.

Well… You knew why. But you’d rather not think about… her right now.

“You okay? You’re spacing out.”

“Hm?” you looked up and was met with blue eyes staring back at you. (You hated the small tug in your heart when it wasn’t your favourite eye colour—or what used to be your favourite eye colour).

No. You couldn’t think of she-who-shall-not-be-named right now. Leah was all that matters.

“I’m fine,” you gave her a comforting smile. “Just thinking of how great this night is going.”

Leah gave you the biggest smile in return. “Going great, huh? Regret that you didn’t give me a chance sooner?” She teased.

You barked out a laugh. “Maybe,” you teased back. “But you were kind of a dick.”

Leah’s jaw dropped open. “I wasn’t!”

“Yeah, yeah. You weren’t,” you agreed, the smile on your lips letting her know that you were joking. “Honestly,” you sighed, playing around with the food on your plate. “I was… You know that I was going through a break-up, right?”

Leah gave you a sympathetic smile. “Yeah… Sorry that it didn’t work out with her.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you really?”

You laughed as Leah threw her napkin at you. “If I say no it’s going to make me sound like a dick, mate,” Leah mirrored your small laugh before she turned serious. “I hate that she broke your heart, I really do. But it’s her loss. You deserve someone who will treat you right.”

“And I'm assuming that person is you?” you were asking the question almost teasingly, not expecting her to take it so seriously.

So when Leah nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the word, “Oh most definitely,” falling from her lips, you swore you could fall for the blonde right then and there, in your favourite restaurant in Barcelona.

“How long were you together?” Leah asked. “…only if you want to share, that is. No pressure. Just asking.”

You took a deep breath before speaking. “Four years. We were engaged for a year.”

“Wow.”

“I know,” you chuckled. “It sounds crazy when I say it out loud. I was engaged.”

“What happened?”

What happened? What happened was that Alexia became a jerk who threw away everything you two had for… what? You didn’t even know. You didn’t care to find out either. All Alexia said was that you two weren’t working out anymore and that she kissed someone else and—you took a deep breath.

Old memories of Alexia still brought up strange feelings in your chest. On one hand, you hated her so much for what she did. You really did. Or you convinced yourself that you did.

But on the other hand… you couldn’t help but miss her and you felt like such a loser because why were you still hung up on someone who hurt you like that?

It was so stupid because despite it all, you wanted to stay. To forget about everything and just stay as it was because you still felt like you two were meant for each other.

Alexia didn’t want that, so what could you do?

Damn. So much for not thinking about her.

“…Stuff happened.”

“Sorry,” Leah grimaced. “I didn’t mean to pry. Or make your ex a topic of conversation on our first date.”

You shrugged, “It’s fine.”

Leah stayed quiet and you almost let your mind wander back to Alexia. You didn’t think about her as often anymore, but there were days when she was all you could think about.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You let out a sudden laugh. “What?”

“Trying to change the subject here! Sorry. No more ex-talk tonight, I swear.”

Leah flashed a bright smile and something warm settled in your chest.

These days, the feeling that everything was going to be alright seemed to manifest more and more within you.

These days, you started to become more convinced that the world didn’t end the moment Alexia walked out the door.

You took Leah’s hands in yours, a soft smile gracing your lips at the sight of your intertwined hands.

If Alexia could break your heart into tiny pieces, Leah could glue them back together.

[bunnys-kisses]

collars, lando n. - heaven came in the form as a collar. while most assumes that it was a hefty piece of leather with a clasp on the back. something for a dog. but you weren't a bitch, you weren't an animal to be tamed. you were lando's everything. never had he had the luxury of the love of a woman like you. your love danced under his skin and sent his brain into overdrive with the simplest of touches.

lando was a possessive man, in the world of racing many things required hyper focus. and lando's hungry gaze always landed on you. he yearned for you, that's why he bought you the collar. a symbol of his mark on you. something that wouldn't ruin with age, forever a reminder of who was your man. because lando was no fool, you were going to be together forever.

you collar was a gold chain that you could never take off. to most it seemed like an evergreen accessory, but to you it was a sign that you were an owned woman. a woman with a man who loved her.

most had wedding rings, you had a pretty gold chain. lando loved you in gold. but his favourite was the collar he gave you. the piece of him that was with you always, as if there wasn't so much his cum kept safely in your achy cunt as you greeted friends for a dinner party. lando would play with your chain while you were curled up on the couch in the vip section of a club. yank on it a little when he pulled you in for kisses. his words, "good girl." made you ears burn with heat.

"a girl looks best when she's collared. owned by a man." he said with humor in his tone. he loved a independent woman as much as the next guy, but to see you grew aroused by his degrading words was often a turn on for him, "should've gotten my name around that little neck of yours. a little extra hardware around that pretty throat of yours. then no one would have the balls to flirt with you. but, i know something better than gold. pretty, splotchy bruises."

lando loved when he got you hot and bothered with just his words. to watch you squirm in your seat as he held you close to him, his fingers across your throat where the chain was, "pretty things deserve pretty things. and good girls deserve the world." he yanked on the gold chain a little and chuckled lowly in your ear, "and you're my good girl, right? you listen to your man. behave for me. i work all day and all night to make your little life charmed. that's why you wear the collar, another thing i paid for. i pay for everything you own, baby. all mine. top to bottom. from the pretty paint on your nails to your soaked panties." lando made more money than you'd ever seen. you were his to poke, prod, kiss, fuck, squeeze, spank, and most of all, mark up anyway he saw fit. after all, he paid good money. even got you a lovely collar. you were the ultimate live in girlfriend, practically a housewife for lando. and he loved that. the ability to yank the gold chain, to pull you closer in more ways than one.

he was a hungry lover. he was a passionate, starving lover. they type of lover that would have you pressed up the nearest surface with the skirt of your dress flipped up and his heavy cock sank into you. speaking of dresses, you found yourself in more dresses than before. since lando started to buy you new clothes, the colours became softer as did the fabrics. and you had more dresses than at any other point in your life. you thought it was weird that your jeans and ratty t-shirts were slowly disappearing from your closet.

"where is that red t-shirt i always wore." you pouted as you searched through the drawers. "don't know, love. but i think you look better in orange anyway." the next day there are white and soft orange striped panties in your drawer. maybe not exactly mclaren colours, but you didn't need garish, loud colours. you needed something softer, delicate. like the chain around your neck.

"don't need anyone else but me, beautiful." he often said, especially when you're so-called friends ditched you for the evening. lando may have told them that you didn't want to go out. that the plans were mixed up and tonight you were spending with him. and don't even bother looking at instagram. it always made you sad when you saw them out without you. but it was alright, he'll make it all better. that was what he did, right? no need to worry about anything while he was by your side. clubbing isn't as fun when you could spend the night in bed with lando getting orgasm after orgasm out of you. fingers and tongue, followed by his cock. it left you out of breath and out of your mind. the throb of want coursing through you. insatiable.

curled up at lando's side, his hand in your hair. maybe he needed something nicer than a collar, maybe he was right. he needed to mark you pretty neck in the darkest purples he can make with his teeth. <3

a/n: thank you to everyone who basically forced me to take a few days off from writing. i'm slowly getting back into the game. here's a little something for you

[cheriladycl01]

Hiiii could you write about Carlos Sainz that he has a secret relationship with an Arab Muslim girl (she doesn't wear hijab) 24 years old, Y/N and Carlos' little sister her friend because they go to the same university from Madrid and Carlos always bothered her, he was always around Y/N whenever she was talking with a boy Carlos made them run away and that's how they became a couple but secretly it was due to Y/N's religion and Carlos likes to annoy her by teasing her face to face or sharing a message by pinching her side because she is ticklish and she also annoys him.

Thanks youu 💖

Romeo to my Juliet - Carlos x Reader

Plot: After studying at the University of Madrid, and making friends with Blanca Sainz you were constantly around her older brother Carlos who was … obviously obsessed with you!

A/N: Ive done research before writing this on Muslim culture and struggles, however I am not a person of colour, and do not want to cause any offence when writing this! Also the wording of this request did confuse me a little bit so I’m hoping I’ve got everything that you’ve wanted in here!

Carlos and you were two people you wouldn’t pin together. You were quiet and reserved whilst he was loud and expressive. You were shy, whilst he was confident. But it was those differences that actually made you the perfect pair.

Being in a secret relationship with the Carlos Sainz wasn’t easy, and neither is the story that came with it.

It started when you first applied to university. You got into the University of Madrid and your parents couldn’t be more happy as your father had work in Spain taken from the Middle East, so it wasn’t a difficult family move.

You were a very stylish girl despite being shy and with your outfits it wasn’t hard to catch the eyes on campus. And that was how you met Blanca Sainz.

It was a colder day in Madrid, around November and you were in one of your favourite winter time outfits that’s kept you warm and cozy, still not completely used to the cold winters Europe have compared to the Middle East.

You had this Burberry scarf on, a gift from you father and a gust of win caught you, immediately your hands grabbed for your skirt leaving your scarf to fly off from around your neck.

“Oh my gosh” you gasp as you tried to reach out for it but it just flew off into the distance. You started to run after it, until you saw it hit a girl and practically strangle her.

“I’m so so so sorry! The wind … and it just … and oh my gosh I’m so sorry, it hit you!” You gasp at the girl who looks over you before laughing.

“It’s … a scarf I’m fine” she giggled.

That day you guys got coffee on campus before getting to know each other and you’d been fast friends since.

It wasn’t until the end of your second year in university, your mum and dad had moved back home to the Middle East. And you didn’t know what to do about summer break.

Blanca actually invited you to her family trip to Mallorca and to stay with her in her family home.

You felt bad, so you suggest the first few weeks are spent in your family home in Dubai. And she definitely didn’t want to turn that down.

So of course you guys spent the summer, tanning, in your pool playing games with your mum and dad when they were free and going to get ice cream.

“Your house is insane, what the hell does your mum and dad do!” She asked looking around the 6 bedroom Villa your family owned.

“I don’t actually know, but he’s a business owner of some sort” you giggle, always too bored to listen to your father explain his career.

“There’s an aquarium in your kitchen island …” she points at it, mouth open wide.

“Yeah, excessive i know but my dad adores his fish”

“And your house it on the beach! AND there’s a pool? I don’t even know if I want to see the garage!” She exclaims.

“Mmmmmm yeah my dads also a car collector. He actually left some in Spain in the house there” you offer.

“Your like so humble though! I - WHAT?” She asks in shock and you just laugh her off.

You guys definitely enjoyed your time in Dubai and your parents loved her, she was invited back for the Christmas holidays too.

Then when you got to Spain you met the rest of her family.

“Mum dad, this is my friend Y/N” Blanca offers as you enter the home which was a beautiful Spanish Villa.

“Ah Y/N we’ve heard so much about you from Blanca when she calls” her mother smiles. Ana comes running down the stairs immediately pulling her sister into a hug.

“Ah you must be Y/N? Yes, you are gorgeous! Where are you from!” She grins pulling you into an unexpected hug.

“I’m from Dubai!” You smile and that night guy guys all get to know one another through board games.

It got to just after sunset when you realised that it was time to pray for Maghrib. You calmly excused yourself from the family. Blanca at this point knew when you had to pray and was always very respectful and actually intrigued at the way it all worked. She would be with you on campus in the pray room, or in a random corner of a cafe you guys were studying in and offer you her coat to kneel on if you didn’t have one.

She was the sweetest and most understanding friend you’d ever had.

However, this was the time you met her older brother Carlos. You were just finishing up, in Blancas bedroom when someone came into the room.

“Sorry Blanca, I didn’t mean to be long if I was!” You smile turning round only to see a confused man behind you.

“Erm sorry can I help you?” You ask and he still stands there with his big brown chocolate eyes just staring at you.

“A-sorry you must be, Y/N right? Blanca’s friend that she brought home?” He questions and you nod standing up, reaching out to shake his hand.

He looks down at it smirking before lifting it up and placing a gentle kiss on the edge making you gasp and go wide eyed.

“Well, welcome to the Sainz household. Are you excited about Mallorca?” He smiles and you nod, of course you were, you’d be waiting all summer for it.

And it was an unforgettable summer.

Carlos was ALWAYS around. He was like this little lost puppy and the only time you don’t think he was around was when you showered or slept. He bothered you the whole summer, interrupting you and Blanca when you were trying to tan, or would splash you in the pool when you were lounging on a lilo. He was a menace, but there was a certain type of endearment to it.

He was also insanely protective over you. Whenever you all would go out to bars or restaurants or clubs, you got a lot of male attention, which to Carlos wasn’t surprising.

You were the most beautiful person he thinks he’s ever seen, and he wants you all for himself.

“Hey Bonita, why don’t you come downtown with me, and I’ll show you a good time?” A random guy from the island had said to you in a club.

“I’m fine thank you, I’m here with friends” you smile pointing behind you to the table where Carlos Blanca and Ana are sat.

“I’m sure they won’t mind, come on. ¡Vive un poco!” He exclaims looking over you.

“She said she was fine, and I would mind” Carlos said in a gruff voice coming to stand behind you and hand on your shoulder.

The guy swiftly left, seeing who it was. You’d gotten used to the fact that Carlos would be noticed in public, you tried to stay out of it as much as possible. Whenever a fan came over you’d practically glue yourself to Blanca’s side.

But all the guys that came talking to you Carlos had them running away for one reason or another. Whether it was just him, being Carlos Sainz, or the look he gave them or what he whispered to them when you couldn’t here. They always left.

That was how Carlos and you ended up together. You were a modern day Romeo and Juliet. You knew your parents wouldn’t approve of the Spanish race car driver, just based on all the tabloid articles about him.

“We should leave” he said in a huff, he was always like this and a lot of the times that you left was because of Carlos’ changed mood.

“But we didn’t get here long ago!” You offer and he huffs again, getting more frustrated.

“Just, let’s just go home!” He says again, not touching you but giving you a look as if to say, I will drag you out of here.

“We need to get Blanca and Ana, we can’t leave them!” You say as you start to look around the club for the two girls, hoping they would protest to Carlos wanting to get you to leave.

“They’ll be fine, let’s just go. They are pretty preoccupied anyway” he nods towards them with their boyfriends and how they are dancing.

Next thing you know Carlos was dragging you home, poking at your side saying how you broke your good girl demeanour just to leave the club with him.

“I was in a club, I can’t be that good of a girl” you tease him back and he looks over at you with a sparkle in his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t even there and it was just from the street lights, but he looked so happy and content in this moment that you couldn’t help but stare.

After this summer, you and Carlos hide your relationship from everyone, you hated hiding it from Blanca the most as he would often come find you in Madrid after race weekends to keep you company.

And don’t even start about him at family venues. Despite Carlos wanting to keep the relationship as secret as you did because of the media, and your parents, he wasn’t very good at keeping his gestures subtle.

“Carlos, I haven’t seen you for a while. And whose this, a girlfriend?” One of his aunts comes over seeing you together chatting at a family reunion his mother had hosted after his race win.

He pinched your side teasingly as if to say that you guys must look good together. And as you look up at his face you can see that.

“No this is Y/N Blanca’s friend from university” he offers keeping up with the secret. And your look down smiling to yourself. It was fun in a way keeping up a little white lie that you were with Carlos.

“Shame, she’s a dime and you two would look great together” she winks before fluttering off elsewhere in the house.

“See someone else who thinks we look great together” Carlos says leaning down to meet your eye level making you blush.

“Carlos leave Y/N alone, you tease the poor girl enough you’ll give her a heart attack one day. Come on sweetie” his mother guides you away, you turn round to catch Carlos’ eye before poking your tongue out in a childish manner.

He shakes his head with a slight chuckles as he watches his mum pull you away to a different crowd of people and introduces you.

When you and Carlos would admit your relationship was unknown, but you knew you’d never been happier than you were with Carlos Sainz Jr.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[papercorgiworld]

Gryffindor Fever

Mattheo Riddle x Gryffindor!reader

Brought to you by this request. While the Slytherins usually bully you, everything drastically changes when you go missing and Mattheo finds out he might have, what Pansy calls: Gryffindor fever.

Happy readings lovely readers! 💛

“Wooh, your test went about as well as the last gryffindor quidditch game.” Mattheo laughed and half of the class chimed as you looked horrified at your test. Snape shushed the class only to hack into your emotional state himself. 

And if that had been it for today, you wouldn’t have complained but leave it to the slytherin douchebags to make your day worse. A smug looking Draco pushes everyone to the side to catch up with you, his cold eyes snaring at you, followed by his gang. “Being stupid can’t be helped. It comes with gryffindor colours, but dressing like you fell into your grandma’s laundry basket is your choice.” Theo snickers as he pulls your home knit scarf. You loosen your scarf and before you fully register what you're saying you’ve already snapped back at the tall slytherin. “Says the guy who doesn’t know how to use a comb.” You snap, darting mean eyes at his bird’s nest of a hairdo. Mattheo has to press his lips together, hiding his amusement at your feistiness, as Theo takes a big step towards you, only to be held back by Enzo. “Dumbledore is around the corner, think about the house cup, mate.” Enzo ushers in a loud whisper, making Theo turn around but not before his dead eyes curse you to the beyond. 

You give them a nasty look, before turning around a corner. “Nice one. Those guys need to be put in their place more often. Otherwise they’ll think they own hongwarts.” George says, but his voice echoes in the back of your head as you feel yourself get lightheaded. Suddenly you feel arms wrap around you and after a few deep breaths you manage to look up and meet Fred’s eyes. You regain strength and lift your hand to rest on your forehead. “I got dizzy for a moment.” You analyse out loud in a soft whisper. “Yeah, we noticed.” Fred voices his concern as he helps you sit down against a cold wall. George immediately conjures a cup of water for you, which you take with a soft smile. “I got way too worked up over my test and Snape’s lecture and those- those idiots.” The twins look at you with sympathy and to each other with a glitter in their eyes, for sure they would play a fantastic trick on those Slytherins for you getting so stressed. 

It was Hermoine’s advice that convinced you to ignore and avoid everyone and everything silver and green coloured. “Just study and find peace in the books.” She had told you over dinner that same day. You following her advice hadn’t gone unnoticed as Slytherins started to miss their favourite gryffindor to make a fool of. Harry was a sensitive issue after he and Draco had almost kissed him when drunk at a Hufflepuff party. Hermione was old news. And Ron was just too easy of a target. You were perfect, but as of the last few days: unfindable, since you hit in a corner of the library only nerdy ravenclaws and Hermione knew about. And apparently also Fred and George. 

“You gotta eat!” George exclaimed, losing his patience with you. “No. I got to study.” You mumble not looking up from your book. “Failing one test will not kill you, starvation will.” Fred added as he tried to reach for your book. You quickly pull your book closer. “I already failed a test, if I fail another Snape will kill me.” “Your brain needs food.” Fred says with a voice low and serious. “Later…” You say, your eyes meeting his for only a second. The twins sigh, but leave for the great hall in defeat. “Unbelievable, that one.” You hear George whisper, making you look at them walking away. I really should eat… after this chapter I should definitely eat something.

You did not eat after that chapter, in fact you studied late. Robbing yourself of sleep and draining yourself completely.

“Do you think (y/n) is alright?” Mattheo blurs out as he stares at the fire, standing still with his hands in his pockets. Pansy looks up from the novel she was reading, carefully studying Mattheo through her lashes before scanning the empty common room. It’s only when Mattheo turns to look at her that she puts her book away. “Do I look like the Gryffindor whisperer to you? No clue what that girl thinks. At this point I don’t even know what you’re thinking… What’s she to you?” Mattheo shrugs. “Just haven’t seen her in a while.�� Pansy fakes a pout. “You must have the same thing as Draco…” Mattheo frowns, but Pansy’s quick to explain herself as she gets up and whispers in Mattheo’s ear: “Gryffindor fever.” 

Mattheo gives Pansy a look of disgust but quickly finds that he has no counterargument, because he really was worried about you. Pansy cheekily tilts her head to the side as she watches Mattheo struggle. Just as Mattheo has gathered enough words for a sentence the door to the common room is blown open and Mattheo is slung against a wall, making Pansy shriek and duck behind a couch. “Where is she, you snake?” George yells as both twins point their wands at Mattheo who is picking himself up off the ground. “What?!”

***

With panic in their eyes Fred, George and Mattheo flew over hogwarts’ grounds, quickly Mattheo grew impatient and started to explore the edge of the dark forest. You had been last seen by a hufflepuff who thought you were looking for potion ingredients, depending on what you were looking for you would have probably gone into the forest. Mattheo felt his heart racing, what if something bad had happened to you. He suddenly realised how silly he had been pretending he didn’t care about anyone, leave alone annoying Gryffindors. His grip on his broom tightened as it dawned on him that he only wanted people to think he didn’t care about you and that seemed so silly now. 

From a distance your body looks lifeless and Mattheo’s heart stopped beating for what felt like minutes until he wrapped you in his arms. A soft sound escapes your lips and a most gentle kiss on your head assures you that you’ll be alright. “Let’s get you back to the castle and all warmed up.” You were still pretty out of it but you could’ve sworn that sounded like Mattheo Riddle, but like the soft gentle version… Clearly you were not well yet, because that would be impossible. Instinctively you grab onto his warm clothes and snuggle in. Your whole body was drained of energy but you knew you were safe.

George opened the door to the Gryffindor common room and Fred held the door open while George threw everyone off the couch. Every Gryffindor in the room stood gawking as Mattheo carried you inside carefully. As Mattheo ever so gently lay you down on the couch, he heard Ron whisper: “Now I’ve seen everything.” Making the slytherin roll his eyes as he could already imagine the red head’s dumb face. Fred leans over you, softly whispering your name. George pushes both Mattheo and Fred away so he can lay a blanket over you and Fred tucks you in a little more as your eyes flutter open. Every student in the room has now surrounded the couch you’re laying on. “What happened?” Hermione asks, eyes darting between the twins. “Think she passed out.” George answers and Fred nods. “Yeah.” You whisper and you open your eyes fully to see everyone hang over the couch staring at you. “I probably shouldn’t have eaten and slept a bit more instead of just studying for Snape’s stupid test.”  

Mattheo just keeps his distance, feeling guilty for everytime he mistreated you. Not saying a word since he feels unworthy. Slowly he makes his way to the door as he hears you explain what happened. “Hey, is it possible I heard Riddle’s voice when I was in the forest?” You suddenly ask, making Mattheo hold his breath as the room falls silent. “Yeah…” George says as he moves away, so you see a soft looking Mattheo staring back at you. Mattheo swallows hard, gathering courage to say what he really wishes to say. “Take care of yourself.” There’s a sincerity in his voice, but the way he raises his hand to awkwardly wave you goodbye makes the whole ordeal just bizarre. Ron just stares at Mattheo with wide eyes as he leaves. “If I didn’t know any better I would think he genuinely cares for you, (y/n).” Yeah, if I didn’t know any better… I would think the same.

***

Mattheo had been on your mind ever since he left so awkwardly that night. You would often catch yourself trying to remember the warmth of that forehead kiss, his smell when you held onto him and his gentle words. It seemed so surreal. You shake your head trying to focus on the test in front of you, but again your thoughts drift to how ever since you passed out, not a single person has bothered you. Your eyes wander over to Mattheo obviously trying to see what Theo is writing on his test. In order to get yourself to focus, you promise yourself that you’ll confront Mattheo after Snape’s class. 

You patiently wait outside the classroom while Mattheo and Enzo try to suck up to Snape, since they had a bad feeling about the test. When both guys enter the hallway you immediately step in front of them. “Mattheo, can we talk?” Your voice came out softer than you expected. Enzo licked his lips, but Mattheo made sure nothing cheeky was said and sent Enzo away with one curt nod. “How did your test go?” Mattheo asks, to your surprise he sounded like any other student. There was no mocking tone and mean eyes staring you down. “It went pretty good, I guess… but you never know with Snape. He’s not really fond of Gryffindors.” Mattheo smiles. “You don’t say. Hadn’t noticed.” You chuckle and his eyes linger on your lips, adoring your soft laugh. 

“How are you?” He quickly picks up the conversation, worried his staring would weird you out. “I’m good. I’ve been eating properly and Ginny’s been making sure I go to bed on time, Fred and George’s orders.” A soft huff escapes Mattheo’s lips and you couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. “They’re good friends, those Weasley’s. You’re lucky you have them watching over you.” You couldn’t help but smile at him with loving eyes. There was something so adorable about Mattheo, you couldn’t have believed it if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. “Thank you.” You whisper, making Mattheo’s eyes shoot up to lock onto yours. “I’m lucky to have you as well.” You move to stand on your tippy toes and give a feather light kiss on his cheeks, turning the cold Slytherin into a blushing love struck puppy.  

Mattheo felt himself heat up and just stood there nailed to the floor as you walked away. And he could help but think back to Pansy’s words: This must be Gryffindor fever. 

Word count: 1803

[ferg0s]

Barou starting a new relationship with a shy girl and how he would go about it

The literal personification of trying to mix oil with water

He was used to everyone looking at him in times of need on the field - he was the king after all - so he didn’t even notice how you would take a step back whenever it came time to ordering food, or any sort of public speaking and interactions.

He naturally took the lead, and you followed suit. Thanking the lord.

He honestly didn’t even notice how shy you were- he just kinda assumed you like hearing him talk. It wasn’t until he passed by an aisle of cute keychains and decided that he wanted to get you one when he realized… he kinda didn’t know anything about you.

I mean he did. He knew your name, your height…. The colour of your eyes…. And hair… and…

“So what do you do?” He asked bluntly as the two of you walked down a park, ice creams in hand. The one he ordered. “What?” “Hobbies? Sports? What do you do in your spare time?” He asked as he looked at you, determined to get an answer. “You know… the usual stuff-“ you awkwardly chuckle. “I don’t know actually.” He was a little shit about it.

But after literally interrogating you for an entire hour, he managed to squeeze out an answer from you. You were completely cornered by him, and you shyly tell him your hobbies. He looks dumbfounded, because to him those are completely normal and healthy hobbies for someone to have. He was starting to think you’re a grave robber by the way you were acting.

Knitting? He will get you the yarn, and parade a scarf you made for him and show all his teammates. Collecting something? He will always be on the lookout for what you like, even going as far as asking his teammates to be on the lookout as well. Video games? He will learn to play your favourite game with you. Cute farming sim? Silent hill? Niche indie game that only 3 people know about? You best bet he will ask for a 4 hour lore deep dive.

Very supportive.

Lwokey will get annoyed at your shyness at one point.

At first he thinks it’s cute, but he’s not the type of person to fully baby anyone, and will force you to order your own meal. He wants the best for you :(

Will say his order and look at you to say yours, watching you stumble on your words as you try to order some fries and a sprite. And will say he’s proud of you after. But doesn’t do it often because he can see the genuine terror in your eyes - only does it even it’s the two of you in line on a slow day.

Slowly learns to accept that you’re passionate in your own way. He’s loud and proud, whereas you like to keep to yourself. In a way he likes that you’re so open with him, that you let him see the stuff you don’t show other people. Thinks it’s adorable.

Will 100% try to make you more comfortable and less shy. You bought a new dress and don’t want to wear it, he will bluntly tell you it looks good and it would be a waste of money not to wear it.

Encourages your fashion choices. Polly pocket platform heels? He loves them. Bold lipstick? He will buy you earring that match. He quietly realized he liked seeing you happy. And you were happiest being yourself.

He’s not a big fan of grossly obvious PDA. Loves holding your hand or when you grab his bicep when you two walk together. You like it because it doesn’t draw unnecessary attention and he likes it cuz you’re always attached next to him and he doesn’t have to worry about actually loosing you. Plus he likes it when you grab his bicep.

Took forever to convince you to come to one of his games. You were too nervous to get into an arena with so many people - said you could come with a group of his teammates girlfriends - but you hated the idea of being with people you didn’t know.

He got really good at spotting you in the crowd. Didn’t matter where you were sitting, he just trained himself to see you. You were too shy to loudly cheer like everyone else, blending into the crowd due to that. But it didn’t matter.

In a weird way. He likes that hes the only one who gets to see you this happy, because hes the same with you. Slowly learning to take his guard down, be more open.

You’re learning to be confident while he’s learning to be trusting.

[fan-goddess]

A Favourite Service

A/N: Just a drabble about darker!aemond. Could’ve probably made it longer but it is what it is

Warnings: Darker!Aemond, prince regent!aemond, reader is a dragonseed, smutty talk but no actual physical smut,

Taglist: @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

Series Thing Masterlist

Sometimes it hurt to be the Prince Regents favourite.

You do not know why it was so, as the prince didn’t exactly spend his hours telling you why. Instead, he spent those hours between your thighs making them glisten with his spent.

When the prince fell asleep beside you, making sure his arms were interlocked tight behind your back to refuse you the right to leave, you would find yourself debating the possibilities in a strange sort of twisted way to help you to sleep.

When you felt your lowest with your skin damp from a mix of sweat and other unnamable bodily fluids, you’d imagine that the prince kept you because he found you to be the most beautiful maiden he’d ever seen in his life as a noble. But when you thought about it reasonably, you knew it was only because you were the only woman with eyes resembling that of the Valyrian shade of purple within the whole of the silkstreet with light as falling snow hair to match.

It appeared after the sudden desire for dragonseed during the war, the majority of them all fled to Lys where most of their kind walked among everyone else. Yet it seems you never got the call, as soon after the war stopped there was a sudden demand for your unique looking services. The once common exotic had became once more a much rarer sight to behold.

When the true king Aegon demanded to meet you whilst he was delirious on a multitude of substances beyond both yours and his comprehension, he let out a loud deep laugh and claimed that the reason for your own unique shade of eye colouring, as it was much darker than both his and his brothers, was due to your obviously whorish roots.

He spluttered and grinned obnoxiously as he gulped a third goblet of wine down his throat claiming he could smell the sweat and cum staining your skin.

Aemond said nothing while he stood by the corner with a face looking both solemn and bored. Yet when Aegon suggested with another laugh on his wine stained lips that you should demonstrate on him what your usual serving protocol is, as according to him since he was a well regarded patron of the trade he should be able to tell whether or not your services were good enough for his brother.

You looked to the Prince Regent unsure of whose orders to truly follow, and that is when Aemond finally moved from his statue like position in order to demand you to return to his chamber.

And soon as you took two steps away from the closed chamber doors, you swore to yourself that you heard the high pitched pained cries of the true king as he was beaten bloody by his younger, yet taller and more enraged brother.

So it really was no surprise when Aemond burst into his chambers a little time later and as soon as the doors shut, demanded you to strip yourself of all your clothing and to lay yourself arse up on the bed. It was his favourite position you think, as that way Aemond could feel he had a willing wife who loved him, and not some whore on her knees he’d paid to do so.

“Perfect cunt…” Aemond would sometimes grunt behind you, his infrequent words of praise sending a rare bolt of pleasure down your spine which most nights with the prince regent you’d be forced to exaggerate and play pretend too. As no matter how knowledgeable and scholarly the prince claimed to be in front of his much older peers, you knew an inexperienced man when you saw one.

It was a mere stroke of misfortune that the one that had been attracted to you was unwilling to learn about the idea of womanly pleasure it seems.

He had no idea how many times you exaggerated your fake cries of pleasure and clenched down on his cock pretending to orgasm all from his if anything quite average cock. Yet with how many times the prince regent pulled out of you just before he came so he could spill himself on your sweat layered skin you don’t think he cared if you came to begin with. Perhaps he was one of those so called gentlemen who believed women didn’t need to cum, thinking female pleasure to be a myth? Still, you’d never ask no matter how much your curiosity plagued you. Especially when the cries of the firstborn son plagued your mind whilst the prince regents breath taunted the very edge of your skin.

He had never let himself cum inside you when thinking of all the times he’d fucked you, as no matter how many times he would imagine you as a trueborn Valyrian child of his uncle, Aemond Targaryen knew you were nothing but a loosened up whore whose purse is filled daily by the coin of the treasury.

When the time comes for the death of either the true king or the death of the Prince regent, you know either way you will not be safe from the iron thrones wrath. For the true Queen Rhaenyra is still in hiding, with her precious uncle-husband guard dog close to her chest. It’s no secret within your old place of work what the rogue prince did to dragonseeds he came across.

[enwoso]

a blurb where Lovie is as clumsy as alessia is and keeps falling over and bumping into things and spilling stuff but she hops back up so quickly and is like I’m ok

NOT SO ELEGANT — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

there were many things you had inherited from your mum, like your big blue eyes, your hair colour, your infectious little giggle and your mother's clumsiness. or as alessia liked to rephrase it as being not so aware of her surroundings.

you were forever bumping into things, dropping things or even just falling over. alessia was forever trying to make sure that there were no serious dangers around especially when you were known to bump into even the smallest of things.

it was getting to the point where even the arsenal girls had noticed your clumsiness.

"lovie, do you still wanna show beth your dance?" your mummy asked as you sat at a table, a cup of juice dangerously close to the edge of the table as you watched your ipad. the team was filitering back into the canteen from the afternoon gym session.

"yes, yes!" you jumped up, a big smile as your arms went into the air, on their way knocking your cup of juice into the seat. "oh... it's okay mummy, just a little bit of juice" you frowned looking at the juice dripping onto the floor moving your feet so that they didn't get wet.

"your alright, you show beth your dance and i'll clean this" your mummy reassured you, lifting you out from the seat to ensure you didn't get wet, beth looking on shaking her head a slight snicker coming from her.

"what you like tiny!" she ruffled your hair as you wondered near beth who was in the middle of asking your mum if she wanted any help, alessia waving the girl off as a big grin was plastered across your face. a lot of work had gone into your dance. "let's see this dance then!"

"wait, i need music!" you moved from your starting position, pointing towards beth's phone.

"what song would you like tiny?" beth asked as you mulled over it for a few seconds before a song name came into your head.

“that one viv likes, the one about summer” you smiled, viv had introduced you to taylor swift last week when you were on the road to an away game, her telling you her favourite and for the past week all you had wanted on the radio or the tv was taylor swift.

beth pulling a puzzled face as she tried to quickly remember which song you were talking about, “ah cruel summer?” she asked as you nodded quickly.

beth tapped away at her phone as you got into your starting position in a bit of space in the middle of the canteen, beth giving you the thumbs up that she had pressed play.

you began to do your dance, which was more just you kicking your leg around and flaying your arms around in a time that wasn’t really in rhythm with the song but you were just little so it was cute.

a few more of the girls had come through from the gym stopping in the doorway, their faces lighting up with smiles as they saw you performing your dance, which you had made sure to tell and show all of the arsenal girls.

“yes tiny!” katie hyped you out from the side a few of the other girls, like leah, caitlin, vic and viv clapping you on. alessia was watching on with a small giggle having watched you do this countless times around your living room in past two days alone.

it was going so well, you had put even more energy and effort into the movements but it of course was going to well. you getting a little close to the chair and as you turned to kick your leg out again, your leg got stuck on the chair.

making your trip, a loud crash sound echoed through the room, you landing straight on your knees. a loud gasp coming from the girls watching as the music continued to play. the girls unsure weather to laugh or be seriously concerned or if it was part of your routine.

but coming from the concerned look that had risen on your mums face. it ruled out the possibility of it being part of the dance routine.

“well that wasn’t very elegant-“ katie mumbled as caitlin slapped the girl on the shoulder giving her a stern look as katie held her hands up defensively.

“beth! turn the music off?” viv called out from the side of the room as beth scrambled to turn it off.

“lovie?” your mummy called out with caution, unsure if you were hurt and if the tears were going to start. the girls still looking on not knowing how to react.

“i’m okay!” you jumped back up, a big grin on your face as the girls cheered. you wondering off to your mummy who wasn’t as convinced.

“are you sure you okay?” she asked as you stood inbetween her legs, your mummy fixing the clip that was in your hair as it came loose when you were dancing around.

you nodded, a smile still on your face. “yes, it didn’t even hurt mummy” you played off so confidently as the rest of girls had settled into the canteen and sat down not that your little intervention was finished.

“think you may have to retire the dancing shoes tiny!” vic joked as she took a seat next to your mummy as your eyebrows furrowed a little.

“noo the chair was just in my way, pavlova” you giggled, as you dragged out your words a small giggle coming from your mummy as you used the nickname she had given vic.

you began to wonder off to talk to the other girls, but not without bumping into emily and tripping over another chair leg that was poking out.

“she’s definitely your child less!” vic laughed as alessia rolled her eyes sighing at the fact you had in fact inherited alessia’s clumsiness, and in fact you might actually be worse…

[lipringlrh]

i know it wont work | CL16

"I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different.” - i know it won’t work, gracie abrams

summary: you don’t love charles anymore and it’s wrong to keep dragging him along.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

an: wrote this ages ago but remembered it. happy charles contract day !!!

word count: 1.8k

warning: a bit suggestive? breakups and angst, sad charles who likes to beg x

feedback and reblogs appreciated !!

we need to talk.

He received the text from you this morning, but he didn't want to respond. He knew what was coming but he had been ignoring it and trying his best to fix it for the past month.

He could feel you falling out of love with him over the past few weeks and he had tried everything to fix it. He'd bought you flowers, took you on fancy dates, and constantly did your favourite activities with you. It's not like he wasn't doing that before, he most definitely was, but he made it more often and romantic than before. The last thing he wanted was to lose you.

You would've said the same every day of your life until recently. You didn't know how it happened, or when or why, but it did and you hated yourself for it. You didn't want to fall out of love with Charles, you always believed you'd be together for the rest of your lives, so when you realised it was happening you ignored it, trying to force the feelings back. You immersed yourself in the dates he took you on and tried so hard to love him but you couldn't help it anymore.

It didn't take much time to realise Charles knew. He could always read you better than anyone else which you usually loved. He spent days crying into your arms, holding you and refusing to let you leave, mourning the relationship he knew was coming to an end. Neither of you addressed it though, you just waited, hoping the other would talk first. Despite loving him less and less, you loved the relationship you had with him, and you didn't want to leave him.

It was unfair though, you realised. You'd stare at each other and you could see easily how in love he was with you whilst you felt nothing. It was horrible dragging it on, especially knowing he knew, and you couldn't spend time with him without feeling incredibly guilty.

You didn't know how to go about it, telling the man you thought you'd spend your life with you didn't love him, but after sending the text, you knew you'd started it the wrong way.

You weren't surprised by the lack of response, you guessed it might happen, but you stayed home all day knowing he would show up at some point. And at quarter past eleven at night, he did.

You both were sat on the same sofa, not too far apart but far enough you couldn't touch each other without leaning. Charles hadn't looked at you since he arrived, he stared mostly at the floor, very occasionally looking up. It wasn't hard to notice the colour of his eyes - they were bright red, most likely from a mix of crying and rubbing them.

You sat in silence for a while, neither of you saying anything, neither of you wanting to admit the truth. Neither of you had told anyone the issues over the past month, but a few close friends had some ideas.

Charles was playing with his fingers, ripping off skin at the corners, he didn't want to hear what he knew you were going to say but he couldn't sit in the silence any longer without crying.

"Please just get it over with," he whispered, hoping he had the completely wrong idea for the last month.

You paused for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying not to cry yourself, "I'm not in love with you anymore."

It made you feel sick to finally say it out loud. You hated yourself for feeling it and for bottling it in for so long.

The room was silent again but not for long. Charles' head was in his hands, and small sobs could be heard from him.

"Charles, I am so sorry. I didn't want this to happen, I wanted to spend my life with you, I promise."

“Don’t, please,” he cried, voice shaking.

You started to focus on your own breathing again, forcing yourself to hold back from crying, “we can’t be together anymore.”

He looked up, straight at you. You could see his face fully now for the first time, Tears ran down his face, which was already blotchy. He looked tired and hopeless, and you feared he’d only get worse.

“Yeah, no shit,” his voice started off strong before breaking completely at the end, sending out another wave of sobs.

“God, I am so sorry, Charles, I am so sorry,” you sniffled, beginning to cry yourself.

He just shook his head and places it back in his hands. His full body was shaking and he was sobbing harder than you thought possible.

“Can you- can you hold me please?” he choked, barely holding back his cries.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“Please,” he begged, shamelessly. He didn’t care anymore, you knew he needed you, he didn’t need to hide it.

You moved closer to him, barely, still keeping a safe distance. You placed a hand on his head, not sure what else to do.

Charles made the next move and placed himself right next to you, almost on top of you. He leaned into you, pressing his head into your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him subconsciously, pulling him closer.

He carried on shaking into you, letting out strangled sobs. They never seemed to end, he just seemed to carry on for what felt like forever. You cried too, into his hair, occasionally pressing tender kisses wherever you could reach.

"Please let me stay tonight, it's too dark for me to drive. Let me just have one last night with you please," he begged, still crying into your shoulder.

You knew it was bullshit - he drove just as well at night as in the day and it was just as dark as when he came, but you didn’t have the energy to dispute him.

“Charles-”

“Please, baby, just one night. Just one.”

You couldn’t answer him. It would be so wrong to say yes but it felt wrong to say no.

“Let me have one last good memory. Let me prove what you’re missing,” he tried pleading again.

You sighed, nodding, not that he could see you. He could feel you though but wasn’t entirely sure if your movements meant anything.

“Hmm, you want to? Please, baby. Talk to me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, yes? Talk properly.” he ordered, sharply yet quietly, taking more control over his tears.

“Yes Charles,” you responded. He tried to look at you pointedly, silently pushing you for more, but with his tear-stained face it didn't work too well. After knowing him better than anyone, you understood though, “Yes Charles, you can stay.”

“Good answer,” he whispered, turning back into your neck, pressing lazy kisses up and down, “such a good answer angel.”

“Charles,” you almost whined. Almost. It’d be wrong to let him have you the way he wanted whilst he was in this state but God did it feel good.

He was moving down your jaw, leaving wet, loving, kisses in the wake. He was pushing himself into you, moving against your thigh.

“Let me make love to you, baby,” he moaned, rutting his hips faster against yours, “don’t refuse. I know you can’t resist me. Please.”

His face was pressed into your neck, switching between sucking and biting down. His hands moved further down, touching your chest and body in all the right places.

“Yes. Please, Charles.”

————

You slept well that night, better than you had in a long while even though you were still wrapped up in Charles’ arms. You were woken up by him, dabbing light kisses down your neck.

Light fled in through the window, hitting you and Charles perfectly. You awoke to feel his hair tickling your chin, his lips now kissing across your shoulder.

“Charles, not again,” you groaned, not wanting him to stop at all, but you were beginning to feel guilty. You just spent a night with a man who loved you unconditionally, knowing that you didn't, "Come on, Charles, get up."

He carried on kissing you, moving towards your collar bone, then inching further down, "we can go again."

You tangled your hands in his hair, moving his face up, away from your body.

"No, Charles," you paused, taking in a sharp intake of breath as Charles began kissing your jaw, "Charles, you need to go."

He stopped instantly and looked up at you. It was easy to notice the sudden change in demeanour. His playful attitude was gone, replaced with a much more miserable one. He already looked like he was going to cry again.

He'd put last nights conversation to the back of his mind, only focusing on the fact he had you all to himself. He didn't want to remember it either.

"Is there anything I can do to make you love me?" he whispered, brokenly, on the verge of crying again.

He rested his head on your chest, beginning to sob into you. His body was lightly shaking, only getting more vigorous as time went on. You couldn't respond to him - you couldn't even look at him. Guilt ate you up inside, you wanted to love him.

"I think you should go, Charles," you spoke, your voice cracking. You were crying now too.

"I want to stay."

"I don't love you Charles," you cried, "I think it's best if you leave."

"Could you love me again?" he pried, barely being able to speak between gasping for breath, his crying taking over his whole body.

"I think you should go."

"Can you answer me?" he begged.

You didn't want to but you had to. You repeated yourself again, "I think you should go, Charles,"

He propped himself up on his arms, his face over yours. He had tear tracks down his face. He was hopeful when he shouldn't be, "you're not saying no."

"I'm saying I think you should go."

"Please," he asked again, wanting nothing more than you to give in. He always believed, deep down, you were it for him, his forever person, and he really didn't want to give you up.

"Please go, Charles," you pleaded, refusing to look at him. If you could go back in time and fix your feelings, you would, in every timeline, but you couldn't and you regretted it every second.

"I'm going," he sighed, defeatedly, getting up from the bed. He grabbed his clothes, dressing himself with little effort.

He took his time, trying to savour every last bit of time with you, even if it was bittersweet. He took one last look at you before he was out of the door, holding your gaze for as long as he could.

"I promise you I'll love you forever, call me if you'll let me".

[jamespottersdaisy]

It's nice to have a friend.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"No one loves a monster like me."

"I do."

warnings- cursing, the prank (with major changes), angst (?), my writing

13k

author's note:- i wrote this listening to taylor and lana. english is not my first language, so beware <3

"What time do you call this?"

You bit down your lips at Remus's flat tone. He looked up from his book with an expression you couldn't figure to be irritated or nonchalant.

"I'm so sorry, Remus. I got carried away with astrology," you said as you attempted to sit beside him. He quickly put his books on your seat with a loud thud. Fortunately for him, the library was empty.

"Then go and play with your stars."

"What?" you asked, a bit confused. "Aren't we supposed to study together?"

"We were. But you're late," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm only twenty minutes late," you furrowed your brows at his uncharacteristic rudeness.

He was staring at you as you glared back.

"You damaged your brain while studying Transfiguration without me, didn't you?"

You arched a brow uncomfortably, getting ready to talk again, but Remus's face softened and changed into amusement. The next thing you heard was his light laughter.

"Hilarious, prick."

"I'm a funny bloke," he chuckled as he lifted the books to grant you a seat, which you took.

"You're not really, James and Sirius are way funnier."

"Weren't you the one throwing a tantrum over their prank yesterday? You certainly weren't laughing."

"They died my hair to green! And don't act like you had no part in it."

"I only told them green is your favourite colour. Was I wrong?"

You blankly ogled his smirk.

"Green suits you."

"You know what suits you, Remus? Purple. Should I do something about it?"

To your irritation, his smirk widened. You turned your hand into a fist. "Which eye is your favourite?"

"I only have two."

"That's not an answer."

"Is there supposed to be an answer? The two are the same."

"Well then," you threw your fist at his eye, Remus raising his arm to protect himself.

"Did Sirius bribe you to hit me?"

"No, but he did offer me some galleons in exchange for your chocolate this morning."

"That was you?!"

This time it's your turn to smirk.

"Time is of the essence, Remus, we have to study." you opened a book before you, waving off Remus as he grumbled something under his breath.

You started to study together, helping each other occasionally.

It was a habit now; you two would study together every week for at least four evenings.

Remus was frustrated today; you could tell from his bouncing leg and twitching lips. But you didn't point it out; you knew he felt uncomfortable when someone coddled him. It was one of the perks of being best friends for five years.

From the first year of Hogwarts to the sixth year, you learned almost everything about Remus by heart. How he scratched the hairs on the back of his neck when deep in thought, or how he never looked up from his book while reading, even if his friends were trying to converse with him.

In return, he knew exactly what to tell you when you were overwhelmed by the studies or how to make you laugh when you were feeling like crying.

You two had always been there for each other, listening, understanding, and supporting one another through everything. You had stayed in the hospital wing all night for Remus when he broke his arm in the third year, and he had been there for you when you were burning with a fever two years ago.

There were too many incidents like these which you and Remus shared that proved the special bond between you. James, Sirius and Peter were also your friends, but with Remus, it was different; unique.

He had made you feel appreciated and loved, never let you down or never let anyone look down on you. Sometimes James and Sirius would mock you two for this affection, but that would always earn them a smack on the head from Remus.

You knew everything about him, and he knew everything about you.

Well, almost everything.

He didn't know that your affection for him was something more; It had been for quite some time now.

At first, you thought it was an innocent crush because of teenage hormones or something, and it would fade away with time.

But it didn't. You grew out of 'I fancy Remus Lupin' to 'I love Remus Lupin'. Of course, you never confided in anyone about your burning infatuation, keeping it secret, burying it deep inside your heart.

The same secret that was fighting to break free from your heart's walls every time Remus smiled at you.

The same secret that was clawing from its grave to get up and fly, bleeding your heart every time Remus embraced you and called you a friend.

The same secret that prickled your eyes with tears every time you remembered that you weren't the only one keeping secrets.

He was keeping something from you, too.

You had always felt it in his eyes, glancing away when you would ask about a scar on his arm or a cut on his thumb.

The first time you fought on it was when you saw the huge scar on his face in the second year. You had worried so much that you pushed Remus's patience, and he had yelled at you. For twelve years old, it was a big hit in their friendship. You hadn't talked to each other for two weeks. In the end, Remus approached you to apologize and explained how the Marauders' prank had backfired, resulting in his scar. You had cried that day because of how much you had missed your friend. Remus hugged you tight, but you could swear you heard a sniff or two from him as well.

Remus would always say the scars on his body were because of a prank, and you would pretend to believe it.

Until this year.

You may be a Gryffindor, but you weren't stupid. You had noticed how he would disappear every full moon and "get sick." You didn't push him before because you thought maybe he needed time, but his distrust was turning the understanding in you into resentment.

It hadn't been to hard make speculations about the situation, but you wanted him to confide in you.

"Are you asleep with your eyes open?" Remus startled you, pulling your focus back to the present.

"Are you calling me a dolphin?"

"You two have a lot in common," he patted your head with his quill.

"Freakingly cute?"

"Freakingly evil."

You elbowed him but regretted it the moment he grimaced with pain.

"What's wrong?" you asked, albeit you immediately guessed another injury under his brown jumper.

He forced a smile. "You just proved my point."

"I didn't even hit you that hard!"

"You tell yourself that," Remus stood up, nodding simultaneously. "That's enough for today."

"Already? You sure you okay?" you worried a bit, standing up. "It's only been forty minutes."

"For you, lazy lady. I've been here for an hour, remember?"

"Go on, rub it in, or I won't hear the end of it until tomorrow."

You two were walking to the exit now with relaxed paces.

"Yeah, about that. I won't be able to study with you tomorrow."

You inhale a deep breath and huff it out.

Here goes nothing.

"Again?"

"Yes," his voice is rusty now.

"Why?"

"Marauders thing."

Same excuse as the last month.

You didn't say anything, giving him one more chance again.

"That's bollocks, Remus."

Remus simply curved a side of his lips to a tiny smile, almost unnoticeable to anyone. Well, anyone but you.

However, you were too irritated to mellow at his smile.

Only for one day, you didn't see him, and he had a new scar, and what a coincidence that the same day was a full moon.

"You really shouldn't curse."

"What truly happened to your arm?"

"Sirius accidentally cut it," he said for the third time that day.

"Stop lying."

Maybe you were wrong to push him like this, but you didn't care at that moment.

"I'm not lying, Y/N," he said before grabbing both his and your books and pressing them between his left arm and torso. "Let's go, we have class in ten."

When you didn't budge, his smile grew, and he stretched his free hand towards you.

"Come on, move your arse. We'll be late."

"You shouldn't curse," you said firmly, trying to look as angry as you could. You were on your limit and had no intention of backing off this time. "And I'm not coming with you."

"Why is that?" he pulled his outstretched hand back to the pocket of his trousers, wearing a soft expression, which his mocking tone contrasted with.

"You know why."

"I'm afraid I don't know why you are not coming to class."

"I will go to class, just not with you," you scowled at his nonchalance.

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"And why is that?"

"Because I've decided that I'm not talking to you."

"That's not fair."

"Yes, it is," you snapped, standing before him. You waited a few minutes for something, eyes narrowed. When Remus chuckled at your annoyed expression, you walked past him, hitting him with your shoulder.

Striding to the common room's exit, you ignored Remus's call. Only after leaving his sight, you fathomed that you had left your book with him but shrugged it off. You two always sat next to each other, and Remus was too nice of a friend not to bring it back.

"Hey, angry lady." his playfully soft tone danced in your ear, making your heart flutter in your ribcage.

"Go away."

"We're headed to the same class."

"Go away from me, then."

"I'm carrying your book."

"No one asked you to," you still hadn't spared him a glance but could feel the soft smile on his lips.

"No one needed to. I'm a gentleman."

"My arse."

"What about it?"

Your head snapped in his direction. Remus was smirking at you, acting like you weren't almost about to fight ten minutes ago.

You walked into the classroom from the door Remus held open for you straight to your seat.

"Give me my book back."

"You forgot the magic word, lady," he sat next to you. "You know, the one starting with 'P'."

"Petrificius Totalus?"

"That would also work, but I had something nicer in mind. Try again?"

"Periculum."

"What would you need the flames for?"

"To burn you."

"You're so violent this morning. Hadn't had your morning coffee?"

"Just give the bloody book back."

"Now that I think about it, you've been violent for the last three days."

You groaned when the professor started the lesson.

"Don't be bitter, Y/N," he pleaded, watching you snatch your book back. He hated when you were angry at him. "I already told you the truth."

"That's rubbish, and you know that," you whispered so the professor wouldn't hear you. "We're not twelve anymore."

"You were a lot nicer when you were twelve, though."

"And a lot stupider."

"Aye. You'll hear no argument from me."

You knew he was merely attempting to lighten the mood, but he didn't realise it only made you more furious.

"Why are you keeping a secret from me?" you finally blurted out the question gnawing on your insides.

Remus's smile ebbed. He exhaled sharply before turning away from you.

"I am not keeping anything from you."

"Then you must think I am gullible because that's the only explanation for you repeating the same 'prank injuries' lie over and over again."

"That's not a lie."

"Is there a problem?"

You clenched your jaw when you heard the professor's rough voice.

"No, Professor," Remus shook his head, ending the chatter.

You didn't talk for the rest of the lesson. However, to your frustration, you couldn't help but sneak glances in his direction only to find him doing the same.

The moment the class was dismissed, you immediately got up and left the room. The last half an hour in the boring potion class made you question some things. You were at odds with yourself.

And now, in the middle of the hallway, with your books to your chest, your mind was hosting a party for questions.

Was it really about you? Maybe no.

Did Remus deserve some secrecy? Maybe yes.

Did your infatuation with your best friend get in the way of your judgement? Breaking your heart not because he had a secret he didn't want to share but because he didn't love you back? No, of course not (It did).

But you deserved his trust. At least, that was how you were feeling based on the years of friendship.

Were you wrong? Probably.

"Y/N!"

You took a deep breath and blew it out as you turned to face Remus, who quickened his pace to catch up to you. He's smiling. Again.

"What?"

"You still pissed at me?"

"Yes? No? I don't know, Remus," you shrugged and carried on walking to the Great Hall. "I don't understand why you won't share it with me. Don't you trust me?"

"I do," he drawled, and you waited for him to continue. He hesitated at first but gave up after your determination not to make a sound.

"Listen, it's not something about you. I just don't like sharing it."

"Does James know? Sirius? Peter?" you arched a brow, desperately hoping for him to say no. You watched him he open his mouth and close it without a reply.

Well, that was it.

He didn't want to tell you, and you were supposed to be okay with it.

You nodded, hurt at something you didn't want to voice.

Remus stopped you from your arm, turning you so that you would face him. His hands made their way to your sulked shoulders and caressed them back to your hands to hold them tight, sending shivers through your body.

"When the time is right, I will tell you," he said. You looked up into his brown eyes, forcing yourself not to peek at his lips. You had always loved his eyes, and his lips.

"I promise. Just trust me."

You lowered your head, closing your eyes to the pleading in his words.

"I just don't understand why you don't trust me."

Remus stepped forward, letting your head lay on his chest.

"I told you, dove. This is not about you. Truly."

You knew it too.

You knew the reason you were so angry was not Remus but your love for him.

You knew you were not resenting Remus but your own inability to suppress your feelings.

So you nodded, hugging him back.

"What do you smell?" you asked Remus, trying not to sound too eager or excited. You were hoping he couldn't hear your racing heart and couldn't see your trembling hands.

Remus inclined his head to the potion, taking in the smell the Amortentia was radiating.

One, two, tree...

He frowned, looking lost. He clenched his jaw, blinking fast. Something must be wrong.

Six, seven, eight...

He cleared his throat, locking his eyes with yours.

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen...

Remus straightened his back, curling the side of his lips upwards awkwardly.

"What do you smell?"

You gulp, lips parting and then closing and then parting again. You weren't sure it was the right thing to tell him what you smelled from the love potion.

Parchment, coffee, melting chocolate.

Everything that reminded you of him.

"I asked you first."

You sounded taut, internally having a fight between your heart and your brain over the control of your body, mind, and soul.

You didn't know what you wanted to hear from him exactly, but what you did know was that you were praying for it to be something, anything that would remind him of you.

"It's- it's nice," he simply said.

"Mine, too."

"What is it?" he asked, his voice so low that if you weren't so close to him, you wouldn't hear him from all the chatters in the classroom.

You longed to tell him.

Tell him and get it over with. Put down the weighing affection in your shoulders, your lungs and your heart, even if it meant having it broken.

You looked up at him, biting your lower lip so hard it almost bled.

Remus waited and waited and waited for you.

"It's uhm, it's parchment... and uh,-"

"Mr Lupin, are you two done with your potions?

You quickly put a distance between you and Remus. Professor Slughorn stood by the pot, smelling the potion.

"Ah, you are. Well done, you two."

You refused to turn back to Remus, your eyes examining every student in the classroom as Remus cleaned the desk.

James Potter was grinning at Lily Evans, who, in turn, had an unreadable expression on her face. You hoped Lily had smelled James; it would make your friend foolishly happy.

It was a bit chaotic in the room; happy, angry, sad and confused faces were scattered around. A student had even managed to blow up his potion somehow.

You saw Sirius and wondered what he had smelled, but soon your thoughts took a turn when you noticed Sirius was not alone. He was muttering something to Severus Snape with a devilish grin on his face.

"You guys have another prank coming?" you asked Remus, your eyes not leaving Sirius.

You didn't see Remus flinch and almost drop the knife.

"No? Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Then Sirius must be messing with Snape for his own amusement."

Remus hummed softly.

"I love James and Sirius, but was this really necessary?"

It was cold, and you were freezing, not because you had clothed lightly but because it was seven in the morning and in the middle of winter. Remus, seated next to you, was in no better condition. All because your friends insisted you watch them fly around on a broom.

"Well, he had said we were a great support."

"Do I look like any kind of support at this moment?" your teeth were starting to chatter. You closed your eyes at Remus's chuckle, hoping, wishing and praying that you would never forget its sweet melody.

"You look anything but."

You laughed at his words, totally oblivious, his gaze lingering on your smile.

"When is even this game?"

"In two weeks, that's the only thing Pads and Prongs talk about. Where's your head at?"

"I usually tune them out. They're disturbingly loud."

James screamed loudly at Sirius; you threw an 'I told you so' glance at Remus, who rolled his eyes in return. You liked when he did that.

"Try living in the same dorm room with them."

"Must not be fun since you're carrying the scars of the battle in your body."

"And in my soul," he nodded swiftly several of times. You adored the way his brown locks messed into each other, still looking fluffy. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm sweating," you snarked, peeking at Remus. Maybe you were wrong because he definitely appeared more decent than you were. He beamed at you, sneaking in closer, his leg brushing yours.

Without further ado, he pulled his arm over your shoulder, tugging you to his chest. Your breath hitched as his scent filled your mind.

You hated how your heart reacted every time you were this close to him; a hand away to hold his hand, a breath away to kiss his lips-

"Better now?"

You pushed the image deep into your mind, heat blossoming in your chest, colouring your cheeks.

"Cheers."

The next you-don't-know-how-many minutes later, the practice was over, and the players were now descending to the ground. Remus hadn't let go of you yet, not that you wanted him to.

You watched as James and Sirius joked around, Peter joining them later on.

"Hey, lovebirds! Come down!" James yelled, his hands around his mouth.

You raised your head to see Remus frowning at them before smiling at you, which you returned shortly as you stepped out of his warm embrace.

"Who's hungry?" James asked as you two also joined them and answered before anyone else could. "I am. Let's eat."

"Evans still won't tell me what she smelled in Amortentia."

"Drop it, mate. If she wanted to tell, she would've," Sirius slapped James's back before stepping into the Great Hall before everyone.

"If you push her, she might get irritated, you know," you reasoned with James, albeit you knew it was in vain.

"With me? Impossible, I'm lovely."

"Not to her, apparently."

"Not everyone has a Moony around to cuddle, Y/N."

Peter snorted and dodged the hit from Remus's hand.

"What? James, that's not even relevant!" you hid the crimson of your checks with feigned annoyance, refusing to glance at Remus.

"It doesn't have to be relevant," he shrugged, grinning ear to ear. You shook your head, grabbed a toast and didn't see Remus arch a brow at James.

"Where's Sirius?" Peter asked, making all of you turn around.

"He was there a minute ago, was he not?" you questioned, aimed mainly at James. If there was only one person you could ask about Sirius, and he would have an answer, he was James.

Obviously, not this time because James simply shrugged.

You were jealous. You had never been jealous over Remus until now.

You knew Lily Evans was his good friend, you liked her too, and you knew Remus would never even think about her in that way.

But still, you couldn't help but feel like you were on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone to push you every time Lily would put her hand on Remus's hand, grazing the tiny cut lightly with her thumb. Your heart was a target to all sorts of knives when you heard Remus chuckle at Lily's words.

You couldn't help but wonder if she knew Remus's secret.

"Jealousy is not a good look on you, Y/N," Sirius cut your thoughts short.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you dismissed him with a shake of your head, pulling your gaze from Remus to the potion top. "Did you add the Powdered Root of Asphodel?"

Remus had always told you that you were the girl closest to him, and it would always stay like this. But you couldn't get rid of the doubts in your mind you were so certain that were emerging because of your feelings.

"Yes, stir twice clockwise," Sirius started working on Sopophorous bean juice. "I'm talking about Moony."

"What about him?" you bit down your lip and hoped your voice didn't shake when Remus's nickname startled your train of thought. How you loved that nickname...

"Others may be oblivious but don't be ridiculous, I see how you stare at him."

You didn't know how to reply to that claim, so you kept silent but turned your eyes to the long-haired boy. He smiled at you as if an encouragement, which almost crumbled your defences. You were on the verge of giving out.

Would it be bad if there was at last a person to share your feelings with?

"So, is it a monthly 'I fancy him' situation or..?"

"Something more," you finished for him, earning a croon. Here, you had said it with no guarantee that he would keep your secret but with the hope that he would help you carry the burden.

"Am I that transparent?"

"Only when you're jealous, love."

You nodded, smiling a little.

Sirius watched the way you were picking the skin around your nails.

"Hey, stop worrying. I'll tell no one."

Relief had hugged you at that moment, thankful that Sirius took your feelings lightly and didn't make a big deal out of it. Also, happy that you weren't alone anymore in this secret; you had someone capable of understanding.

"Sirius?"

"Mhm?"

"Do you think he'll ever...love me back?"

He sighed, drying his hands. You felt his hands on yours, returning the gesture.

"You know Moony, he doesn't talk about feelings," you laughed bitterly, placing your head on his shoulder. "But he is a plonker if he never returns your feelings, and I'll make sure he gets a new scar if he ever hurts them."

"Thank you, Pads," you melt into his hug as you feel his arms around your waist.

"You smell of strawberries," he took a strand of your hair into his hand, sniffing it. "What shampoo are you using?"

"Stop smelling me like a dog!" you pushed him away, giggling when he gasped in fake hurt. "Focus, we still have to finish that potion."

Sirius carried on with his Sopophorous bean, and you looked around for a sloth brain.

"Did you forget the sloth brain?"

"I thought you were going to get it," Sirius shrugged, looking up. "Moony and Evans have one more. Go and grab from them."

You glanced at the pair, noticing that Remus was already staring at you. He didn't budge when you smiled at him and changed his focus back to Lily.

Red hair, green eyes, dainty freckles and graceful stature. Why did she have to be this beautiful?

You sauntered to their seat, passing near a bunch of students that were requiring the Professor's attention. Remus refused to look up to you when Lily offered you a kind smile.

"Hey, Remus, do you mind sharing an ingredient with me and Sirius?"

"You don't have it?" his tone was not kind, and his eyes were cold.

"I thought he was supposed to take it, but it turns out he thought I would take it," you mumbled real quick, still not fathoming the reason behind his coldness. "So here we are."

"You guys were pretty out of it. How do you even manage to get the job done?"

"We are doing fine," you frown. What was wrong with him?

"Yeah, I saw."

"Are you going to let us borrow the ingredient, or should I ask James and Pete?"

His gaze finally changed into something you couldn't quite name. He turned to Lily, who was trying her best not to pry.

"We won't need the spare," she consented in an instant. Remus dashed to the other side of the desk, clutching the jar and dashing back to you.

"Thank you," you mumbled as you clasped it in your hand. He merely nodded one time before carrying on with whatever he was doing.

You could swear you heard Lily whisper to him, 'What the bloody hell is wrong with you?' before parting, but you ignored it.

You couldn't find Sirius when you were back, so you finished the last steps of the potion on your own. He didn't pop up when the Professor checked the work or when he dismissed the class.

"Why are you pissed at me?"

"Moony is pissed at you?" James hopped in as you made your seat next to Remus, who was busy with his meal.

"Yes–"

"I'm not."

You stared at him in disbelief and bemusement.

"You certainly are. Now tell me why."

When Remus looked at you, a smile inched his lips up though his eyes were still grumpy.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked.

"I-I don't know," your head sought him out, giving out in confusion. "How is he any relevant?"

You ignored James muttering, 'You really do like that word, huh?' as your eyes desperately tried to understand why Remus was being weird. But instead of an appropriate reason, all you got was a shrug.

You shook your head in dissatisfaction and stretched your arm for the pumpkin juice. Seeing your attempts, Remus's hand had already grabbed it and now was pouring the juice for you.

"Thank you," you whispered before clearing your throat. "So, we'll study together in the library again, right? Now that you're not 'angry'?"

Remus shook his head when you drew quotation marks with your fingers in the air.

"Today, yes. Not tomorrow, though."

You quelled the rising anger and heartbreak in your heart. In a trice, you twisted in your seat, facing James.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

He was taken aback by your sudden query. By the state of his full mouth and the bread crumbs around his lips, you figured out that he wasn't paying the slightest attention to you and Remus.

"Quidditch practice before breakfast?"

"In the evening, I mean."

"We're supposed to–"

"I wasn't talking to you, Remus."

Remus pursed his lips, cursing himself for not talking to James that morning. James's face crinkled in bafflement.

"I am supposed to finish my star chart with Sirius."

You nodded and glowered back at your best friend. James made a face at Remus behind your back as if asking what was going on.

"You don't take Astrology, Remus."

"I'll study with Lily tomorrow," he said, and you froze.

You were supposed to study together. You and Remus. Together. Like the way it had always been.

He wasn't supposed to study with the prettiest girl in the house. The graceful girl with a delicate smile and silky fire-kissed hair.

You didn't know when or how the familiar burn in your chest surged up, but you recognised what it was. You welcomed the acute sharpness of its thorns and the way it cut through your heart.

"Oi! Why didn't you tell me that? I could've finished the chart earlier and joined you!"

You tuned out James's protest. You wished you could tune out Remus mumbling to him, 'We decided in the potions.' too. But if there was one thing you could never turn a deaf ear to, it was Remus's voice; soft yet stern, melancholic yet hopeful. You wanted to tattoo the tune into your brain the way it was engraved into your heart.

You heard Remus call your name. You hated the way you loved your name from his lips. He had always chanted your name so gently, like an incantation, caressing your soul's most hidden-away parts.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't say no to Lily," he said apologetically.

"Yes, of course," you rose from your seat, offering Remus a smile you hoped covered the hurt behind your eyes. "I understand."

"Where you going?" he attempted to grab you by your wrist, but you were agile. You snatched your wrist away unobtrusively.

"I'm going to look for Sirius."

"Hiya, love," Sirius greeted you at the curtail step of the Grand Staircase. You had looked for him in the castle, but you stumbled on him when you finally gave up and decided to head to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Where were you? I couldn't find you close to the end of the potions," you asked him, feeling a bit better now that you're out of Remus's company.

He shrugged, denying you the answer.

"You, too, Pads?" you stopped your steps, making Sirius do the same. He looked confused.

"I, too, what?"

"Somehow, I never get an answer to any of my questions these days, and it's bloody frustrating," you blurted out the grudge that had made home in you within a breath.

"Someone's getting ready to throw a strop," his mocking tone brought you to your senses. You pouted, sighing away the anger and resentment building up in your core.

"Don't sulk, love," he said as he dropped a hand on your shoulder, which impeded your movement on the stairs. "If it is any consolation, I have a problem with Snape."

"What problem?"

"You remember our last prank on him, right?" he smiled sheepishly. He continued when you nodded. "Right, so he may or may not have been trying to get back at me for it."

"So you two have been fighting like two little third-years for the last week?"

"Uh-huh," you rolled your eyes when he showed you his ridiculously white teeth. "I'm setting the ground for something big, but can't tell you, so don't ask."

"Fine."

"Your turn."

"It's silly," you cringed at the thought. Everything always made sense in your head until it was time to actually voice them.

"Good. Then we'll have a laugh. Come on, now," Sirius squeezed your arm as reassurance.

"Remus is a liar. Sometimes..." you purposely left out the once-in-a-month fact, "He stands me up, saying it's a Marauders thing-"

You held your hand up to interrupt Sirius, who was about to back up his friend.

"Don't. It is a lie. I know something is going on, and I have speculations, I'm not stupid, Sirius–"

"Never said you were."

"And it's okay, you know? We talked about it, and he told me he needed time, and I didn't argue. But now he tells me he isn't gonna study with me because he promised Lily, and I know it's an excuse because he couldn't use the 'Marauders thing' lie this time–"

"Don't forget to breathe."

"It's just...she's pretty and smart and–"

"In love with Prongs."

"You don't know that."

"No, but she will be, and you don't even need to worry about Evans. She's just a good friend of Moony."

You exhale heavily, begging for your endeavours to suppress the ache in your throat to work.

Yes, she was a good friend of Remus. But you're supposed to be his best friend.

Howbeit, more importantly, what was muddling you was the thought that Lily knew Remus's secret.

"I know, Pads. I just can't help it."

Sirius said the password to your common room and gave you the way first.

"You should talk to him, you know," he said as you threw yourself onto a sofa.

"And tell him that I'm ridiculously jealous because of his friendship with Evans, yeah?"

You smiled at Sirius's laugh. "I pity you, love."

You pitied yourself, too.

You grimaced when you felt the metallic taste of blood. Pulling your teeth from your lips, you pushed them together so the blood on them would dry.

You've been pacing around your dorm room, contemplating whether to get down to the library.

Part of you yearned for Remus's presence, while the other part wanted to avoid him forever, not ready to face and voice your thoughts to him. You knew he never left any quarrel unsolved, never letting you stay upset.

Ultimately, your love for him overwhelmed your resentment, and before you knew it, you grabbed your book and ambled down the stairs.

Your knuckles were white from clutching the book hard when you entered the empty library. The only thing you could think about was if Remus was going to be there.

And he was.

He raised his head from his book the moment you crossed his sight, brown eyes full of different emotions that you couldn't sort.

You chose to ignore how his leg was bouncing and how his hair was way messier than usual.

He softly smiled at you when you sat next to him. You smiled back.

You hoped maybe he would act like everything was alright and you wouldn't have to think about your feelings.

But you inhaled sharply when he didn't.

"We're fighting a lot these days," he said, looking at your fingers rather than your eyes. "I hate it when we fight."

"We didn't fight."

"It may not be a fight, but," he took your hands into his, "I know you're hurt."

When you kept silent, he took this as his cue to go on.

"I'm sorry, dove. I should've known it would hurt your feelings to stand up our evening studies."

"You know well that it is not the matter," you said, pulling your hands back. "Stop acting like you don't."

"I'm going to need you to be more specific."

Dozens of questions raced through your mind, but you only managed to ask the one tearing you apart with jealousy. You pushed to voice that screamed at you, saying 'you're being too blunt' back in its place.

"Does Lily know your secret?"

Remus sighed. He parted his lips and then pushed them back together. You fathomed that he was getting irritated from the twitch of his hand.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't bring this up again–"

"Does she?"

"She does."

"You told her."

"She figured it out herself," he arched his brow at you eloquently. You despised the meaning behind that expression. It mocked you, claiming that you were not as bright as another.

"Of course, she did," You turned your side to him and opened the cover of your book. Little did he know you had figured everything, too. Except, you waited for his confiding.

"Alright, that's it," Remus shut the cover back to regain your attention. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What?"

"Y/N, you've been picking fights for the last bloody month. And I try, I really, really try to be patient but I don't understand what your problem is."

Your face wrinkled in confusion. 

"Remus, what are you talking about? We were fine until this morning."

Remus held back for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe. But we're having the exact bloody conversation every once a month, and it's getting on my nerves."

This was the last straw for you. Getting on his nerves? 

You had been patient with him since the day you became friends.

You had been understanding towards him every time he pushed you away when he was upset and pulled you back for support.

You had been gentle with him every time he snapped at you before full moons and every time he broke your heart after full moons.

And you had been loving him for the last five years, first as your friend, then as a boy, despite his flaws, blemishes and imperfections.

And now he couldn't even handle your resentment?

Anger climbed its way to your chest, burning down every wall you've ever built to keep your heart's secrets hidden away.

Words were scattered across your mind, ready for you to use them as your weapon against the pain havocing in your soul.

You couldn't keep anything in anymore.

"You know what's getting on my nerves, Remus? You being a liar–"

"I am a liar?"

"Yes. Yes, you fucking are. You have been lying to me for the last five years, and I've been bloody patient.

You think you're being patient? Well, try being best friends with yourself. Someone who lies to you, keeps secrets from you, but tells you you're his best friend, and then fucking repeats everything again."

"I asked you to give me time!"

"And I did! I've been understanding towards you and acted dumb every time you gave me nonsense excuses like you did today."

Remus shook his head. 

"You're being selfish."

"I am being selfish?" your eyes widened in disbelief. He truly had the gall to call you selfish after five years of his lies, excuses, and your espousing only for his sake.

"It's not always about you, you know. I just wanted to spend some time with Lily tomorrow, it's not an excuse."

You sniggered, awed by the way he could lie so easily.

"How come even Evans knows you better than me?!"

Remus clenched his jaw and rose up to his feet. You knew he was trying his best to keep himself collected, not to take out the anger on you, but you had had enough. You looked up to the veins popping up on his neck from your seat when he raised his voice.

"She figured everything out herself! It's not my fault that you can't do that!"

"So, now I have to try to solve you out by myself? That's not how friendships work, Remus! You're supposed to trust me-"

"No! I don't have to do anything! I've had fucking enough. I don't owe anyone anything, including you. Remus this, Remus that. Everyone has something they want from Remus. Everyone rubs their so-called favours and sacrifices into my face, always demanding something in return-"

"I've never even once harped on anything I did for you! I only wanted you to open up to me-"

"And the only thing I asked from you was patience! Fucking patience!" he dashed at you, grabbing you by the sides. "But here you are, bringing up the same bloody thing every month like a broken record! So yes, you are the most selfish girl I've ever met!"

His words cut through your heart like a sword, the same sword you had placed in his hand.

You looked at his dilated pupils and how they almost swallowed the gentleness of the brown you always loved.

You blinked the tears away that were threatening to invade your vision and swallowed the lump in your throat down.

Patience, he had said. Time, he had said. You were selfish, he had said.

An unfamiliar surge of acrimony washed you down, anger flaming in your chest. Its white flames swallowed your love for the boy whole, echoing his words from nothingness.

You pushed him away as hard as you could. He tottered a few steps back, eyes softening at your raged visage. In a blink, you were up from your seat and closed the distance between you two.

"You want patience? I have been patient when you let everyone in but me. I've been patient when you pushed me away in the second year after learning about your father. When you snapped at me for worrying about you. When you yelled at me because I wanted to touch the scar on your face." 

Remus parted his lips, but you held your hand to stop him from talking. With every sentence, your tone was soaring, the tears were prickling your eyes, and you had let go.

"Don't interrupt me! I'm not done. I gave you time when you got 'sick' every month and didn't let me see you or when you cried in my lap but refused to talk to me later. I gave you time when you didn't speak to me for days because you were angry and when you lied to me every month because you didn't trust me enough!

You want time and patience?!

I have given you my time and patience for the last five years and have been loving you for the past three, Remus! So don't you ever dare to call me selfish!"

You snapped your mouth shut, letting the wave of fury and relief wash over you. Remus's eyes changed into something new, something you had never learned about him.

 Only then did a stronger feeling hit you: dread.

You had confessed your love for him. 

His eyes were heavy with emotion, the crease between the brows still reminding you of his anger, while the benign brown lit up the hope inside your soul.

"You what?" a whisper left his mouth, so low that you wouldn't be able to hear it if it wasn't dead silence in the library.

You didn't repeat yourself. You didn't even reply to him. You simply turned away and dashed out of the library.

xxxxx

When you woke up the next morning, all you could think about was that it was a full moon today.

You didn't think it would be a good idea to see Remus today, but you were worried about him. You wished to know how he was, where he was, and how he would endure this night. Would he have new scars the following day? Or a headache? Did he love you back?

So many questions and not enough answers.

James and Sirius were in the Quidditch practice, probably Remus and Peter as an audience. You had decided not to join them this time, trying to drown the chaos in your mind with homework instead. Or maybe you were too embarrassed to acknowledge Remus. 

Anyhow, one can only tolerate writing an essay to one point.

You slapped your book shut, groaning to yourself when you relived your last memory with Remus. Yesterday was the reason why you hated being angry; you would either cry or lose control of your mouth. And since you had bone both of them in one evening, you were planning on rotting in your room. However, your short span of attention was not helping. With every sentence you managed to put together, Remus's brown eyes would pop up in your mind. 

You glanced at the weather; grey clouds and chilly wind. Who would even want to be outside in this weather?

James (and maybe you).

You shook your head and decided that maybe rotting yourself until everyone would forget about your existence was not a good plan, as it was getting boring. Checking the time, you smiled because the Quidditch practice should be finished by now. Thus, you got up and left your dorm room. If only you could make it out of the common room without being seen by Remus. 

Sauntering down the stairs, you slowed your steps. Before revealing yourself, you checked the common room and saw James and Peter laughing. No Remus or Sirius. You wondered if Remus told them about your love confession. You hoped not.

Stopping into the room, you made your way to them, putting on a genuine smile. You tried to suppress the anxiety rising in your throat and reminded yourself that these boys were your friends.

"Look who's here," James narrowed his eyes at you. "The traitor."

"I missed only one practice, James."

"He and Sirius are way more dramatic today. James almost asked Evans to marry him this morning."

"Seems like a normal morning, Pete," you said, even though you couldn't help but chuckle. "Where's Sirius, though?"

"He went to see his brother. Said he'll be back in ten minutes or something."

You hummed at James, pushing your lips together.

"And Remus?"

"With Evans, I wager."

The familiar burn in your chest resurfaced. 

"I'll go find Sirius. See you guys later."

"You have a death wish, I see?"

You jumped at Sirius's voice. As opposed to what you said to James and Peter, you didn't go looking for Sirius. Instead, you were strolling around the castle yard. You liked how the frigid air sent shivers down your spine, it was refreshing. And you, without a doubt, needed refreshment.

"How'd you know?"

"You're walking around in nothing but your sweater?"

You smiled and shrugged, waiting for him to catch up to you. When he did, he removed his black leather and placed it on your shoulders. You caught the burn on his hand.

"What happened to your hand?"

Sirius glanced at his hand shortly and yanked it back into the pocket of his trousers.

"Ah. Nothing. Snape and I had a little duel just now."

"Sirius, this is getting out of hand. You need to stop."

"Yeah, don't worry. It's going to end tonight."

Your heart dropped. 

"What do you mean?"

He burst into laughter, worrying you more. 

"I'm going to scare the hell out of that prick, he'll never dare touch me again."

You attempted a smile, though you weren't sure it came out smooth.

"What do you mean?"

Sirius turned to you, patting your arm with his fist. "Don't worry about it. Tell me what made you take a walk in such weather."

Now you were both worried and uncomfortable. Embarrassment was burning your ears up, making you wish that the ground would split in two and swallow you whole. However, you decided to bury the worries and awkwardness. You deserved someone listening to you, after all, so you shared everything with him.

After a few gasps and woahs, you quietened while Sirius was contemplating what to say and how to say it.

"You haven't seen him since?"

You shook your head no.

"Well, he was grumpy this morning, but I don't think it's related to you."

Yet, you were certain that it was related to you. 

He was grumpy because he was angry at you. He was grumpy because he didn't return your feelings, and you made him uncomfortable by confessing them. He was grumpy because you just shattered your friendship. Or maybe he was grumpy because it was a full moon.

"I think he hates me now."

Sirius snorted at your declaration. "You're one hell of an overthinker, aren't you?"

When you didn't reply, he pushed you with his side softly, "Hey, come on, it's Moony we're talking about. He can never hate you."

"You can't possibly know that."

"Yes, I can. Remember in the third grade how he literally hated all of us for burning his paper?"

"I mean, he wasn't exactly wrong. We did destroy two weeks' work."

"Exactly. He rained hell upon us for a month. Well, most of us. He didn't touch you, and whenever we would ask him why, he would hit us before saying, 'It would hurt her feelings'."

You smiled at the thought of thirteen years old Remus coddling you.

"I didn't know that."

"You don't know why James changed his wand last year in the middle of the semester, either."

"I thought he broke it."

"Nah, Moony broke it."

Your eyebrows shot up in bewilderment, amusing Sirius. He nodded before resuming to talk.

 "James had a brilliant idea to cast a spell on you that would twist your tongue every time you talked. Remus wanted to waver him from it, but he was stubborn, that bastard. So before he could cast the spell, Remus broke his wand in our dorm and made it look like an accident to James."

Your smile grew wider, your eyes tearing up from intense emotions. Remus always knew about your anxiety, and he had always cared enough to help you through it. Whenever you would fidget with your fingers because you were about to give a big speech, he would put his hand on yours to calm them down. Whenever you would sweat because the professor was criticising you in front of the whole class, he would touch his knee to yours to let you know he was there. Whenever someone would make fun of you, he would be the first one to stand up for you.

"I didn't know he had it in him."

"Oh, he has a lot more in him when you are the matter," Sirius side-hugged you, letting you lean in. "You can ask him if you want."

You frowned, about to ask him what he meant but stopped in your tracks when your eyes sorted Remus from the other side of the yard. He was with Lily. Before you could ask Sirius to return to the castle, he yelled from the top of his lungs to make himself heard.

"Oi! Moony!"

"What are you doing?!" you whisper-shouted at Sirius, who was dragging you to Remus's side. 

"You can't avoid him forever."

As you got closer and closer to his side, your heart picked up the pace. You didn't feel ready to talk to him today. You were sure you wouldn't be ready tomorrow either.

Lily waved at you two when you made it to their side. You noticed the bags under Remus's eyes and his bouncing leg. You refused to lock your gaze, focusing on Lily's glorious smile. Still, you could feel his burning gaze piercing your heart.

You had tuned out their talking, alerting your mind only to Remus's presence. You didn't hear Lily's giggle or Sirius's mocking tone; you didn't even care what they were talking about.

You only cared that Remus was bouncing his leg, snapping his fingers and rubbing his temple.

You longed to put your hand on his leg to calm it down, hold his hand so that he would stop hurting them, and kiss his temple so maybe it would tender the ache.

Your heart was burning up in your chest, clenching in agony. The agony of being so close and yet so far away from him.

Every tune around you was muffled, slave to even a whisper from Remus, but he wasn't making a single sound.

You had lost count of how many heartbeats were beating in your chest, wasting time by beating away from Remus's heart.

Suddenly, they stopped.

"I have to go," said Remus.

His hoarse tone shattered everything into nothing.

He got up from Lily's side and walked back into the castle. You didn't follow him.

You missed his voice.

The weather was dark and still cold. You clung to Sirius's jacket more tightly. He hadn't asked for it back and said he would take it from you tomorrow.

You should return to the common room; it was neither safe nor clever to wander around at night. And you did. You turned around and started striding to the castle, only to flinch when you saw a figure exiting it.

It was hard for you to distinguish the person, so you followed him. You waited for the light of the full moon to reveal the silhouette's identity to you. You bit down your lip when you saw Severus Snape sauntering towards the Whomping Willow.

He must've lost his mind.

Your heart fastened with Severus's every step, dread of what was about to come sending tremors down your body. Your fingers itched in anticipation.

You hid behind a bush and watched him with terror. It was dark at night. It was a full moon. You were near the Whomping Willow.

Why did you even follow Snape?

When he finally crossed the safe proximity, the tree started moving. Your hand covered your mouth, your eyes unable to blink.

You waited for the tree to frantically shake and sway its branches. You waited for it to injure Severus or maybe even kill him.

But it didn't.

The moment it started to move an inch, it stopped. You thought maybe Snape had cast a spell; you could only see his back.

He slowly approached the tree, disappearing into a hole under it.

You rose to your feet and took a few steps towards the tree. You felt uncomfortably vulnerable at that moment, standing out in the open where you could get attacked by every side and wouldn't even be able to prevent it.

What if the tree starts moving when you're near?

Where did Snape go?

Should you even be here?

If there was only one question you knew the answer to, it was the last one.

You wanted to return to the castle and forget about all this in the morning. You truly did. However, you figured that there was no turning back when you heard a howl and a scream coming from the hole.

You jumped back with fear, oblivious to the yelp that left you.

Your first instinct was to run. Run away as fast as you could, without looking back, but something deep in your conscience didn't let you flee.

What if Snape was alone out there, and he needed help?

What if he was injured?

You cursed under your breath and took one more step towards the tree.

Your heart was pounding in your ear, competing with the sound of the howl down on the ground. You convinced yourself that it was the fear that made the howling sound closer than before.

One, two, three.

You exhaled sharply and started running to the hole.

You prayed that the tree wouldn't move.

Your legs made a stop before you could fathom what was happening.

More than one figure emerged from the ground, but your eyes only saw the big, ugly beast. Moonlight was glistening through its thick grey fur, displaying a horrendous sight. The tawny glow in its eyes was impossible to miss, as well as its tall and scrawny bone structure. The snarls from the beast were threatening to change into something more dangerous. 

Snape was screaming. You could swear you heard James, your name or maybe your own scream too.

However, your eyes never left the beast.

You had seen it in the pictures. You knew what it was.

A werewolf.

Remus.

And it was planning to attack Severus.

Your Remus.

You took out your wand, not even once looking away from the beast. Your mind was chasing every charm you've ever chanted, looking for the best one for the situation. 

The beast pounced on Snape with a growl.

Snape slumped into the ground. 

The beast towered over him, ready to attack. 

You aimed your wand at it, screaming the first thing that came to mind. 

"Petrificus Totalus!"

You had diverted the beast's attention, presenting an opportunity for James to save Snape.

"No, Y/N!" 

When James's cry tore your mind from the shock, you understood that you had made a mistake. 

Spells don't work on werewolves.

A gasp left your mouth when the werewolf directed its attention from Severus to you. You didn't see Snape fleeing or James carefully walking to you. All you could see was the icy light in its eyes glaring at you, sending sheer panic down your spine.

You hesitated to make any more sound, no matter how much you wanted to yell James's name for help. 

You didn't know how to fight werewolves, no one had ever taught you that. You didn't want to die, either.

The growl from the beast intensified, sending you enough signals that the inevitable was close. With your every step back, it was taking a step forward. 

No, no, no, no, no, no.

"Y/N RUN!

And you did. 

You ran until your lungs gave out, your legs crippled, and your heart burst.

You ran until your eyes watered from the chilly air, your nose hurt from the sharp breaths, and your ears echoed the beast's growls.

A branch cut just above your cheek, but you didn't stop.

 You ran until you lost control of your mind, giving it up to your body, performing purely under adrenalin.

But the beast ran with you, too. It followed you into the forest, howling and growling, letting you know death was close. Letting you know that the screams drowning in the night were in vain. Letting you know that the tears staining your face were in vain.

Your breaths mingled with your screams, your hair getting into your mouth. Sweat and tears melded into each other, burning up the cut on your face.

Before you could understand what had happened, your body hit the cold ground with a thud. Your eyes clenched shut, taking in pain vibrating through you. You felt the soil staining your face and body. Your weeping turned into a shriek when you felt yourself yanked into the dirt on your stomach.

Your eyes widened with fear when you finally fathomed the claw grabbing your ankle. It dragged you back, hoping to get the claws on your throat, too. Your fingers dug into the earth. You fought to free yourself from the beast. The jagged stones on the ground gashed your forearm. The dirt stung the gash. Your blood glistened under the moonlight. The beast howled. It turned you on your back.

Remus, Remus, Remus.

One last cry left you. The beast raised its claws, towering over you.

Remus.

You closed your eyes. The tears didn't stop.

Moony.

A high-pitched whine soared in the sky. You were sure it didn't come from you. Something hit your hip. You opened your eyes. 

A stag. 

A stag stroke the beast with its horns in the underbelly, tossing it away from you. The stag jumped over you, attacking the werewolf again. Animalistic voices ascended in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.

You crawled behind a large rock and took deep breaths. You knew you had to run. This was your opportunity to flee for your life, but you had exhausted your body. You needed time to recover.

The growls and whines never stopped. They got louder and quieter. Closer and farther. You didn't know.

You raised your head. The Moon was gleaming, casting light your way as if telling you to get going. You couldn't. Not now.

You lowered your head at your hands. They were filthy with dirt, the soil blackening the insides of your nails.Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶g̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶d̶u̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶a̶r̶t̶h̶. You moved your left arm, checking the backside of your forearm. T̶h̶e̶ ̶j̶a̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ ̶s̶t̶o̶n̶e̶s̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶r̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ ̶g̶a̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶e̶a̶r̶m̶. You winced at the scar and the fresh blood around it. Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶g̶l̶i̶s̶t̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶u̶n̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶o̶n̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶.̶

Without warning, a sob left put your mouth, startling you. You pressed your uninjured hand on your lips, listening around. The voices had stopped. Neither the stag nor the beast was there. You were safe.

Your hands didn't leave your mouth, so terrified that if they did, you would make a noise and lure in the beast again. You knew your body was reacting to the shock and exhaustion, but you despised the tears flooding from your eyes. You needed to get it together and leave the Dark Forest. Albeit the beast was gone, the forest was still dangerous. 

You stood up with a groan, not lowering your wand for protection. Your clothes were spoiled, and you were hurting. You looked around to find a familiar way back to the castle.

"Y/N!"

You aimed your wand at the voice, your heart retaking the pace. The voice was familiar, but you were not in the right mind to identify it.

"It's me, hey. Lower your wand," James's gentle voice weakened your muscles, your hand shaking and breath hitching. Relief surged you from head to toe.

You didn't remember when you dropped your wand into the ground and threw yourself into James's warm embrace. You only remembered how he soothed you as you sobbed with exhaustion.

"You alright?" he put a hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist to check you out after you pulled away from the hug. You nodded, feeling his gaze on your injured arm.

"Where were you?" You didn't recognise your own tone, rasp and brittle.

"Here. With you."

Something hit you in the gut. A realisation twinkled in your mind, finally comprehending the depth of 'Prongs'.

"You were the stag."

He smiled at you. "I knew you were a bright witch."

James Potter being an animagi wasn't the first priority for you tonight. 

"What happened to..." you couldn't let out the rest of the sentence. The beast. R̶e̶m̶u̶s̶

"I led it back to the Whomping Willow."

The next moments passed with silence, you two walking together to the castle and James subtly keeping his hand behind your back to make sure you were fine. You relived everything from the beginning, this time making sense of the incidents. You had so many questions and even more feelings gushing in you.

"I don't understand, James."

"Hmh?"

"Why was Snape there? Where were Sirius and Peter?"

You heard James clear his throat. His tone changed from gentle to furious in a moment.

"Sirius told Snape how to get into the Whomping Willow. That bastard thought it would be a good prank. He told me later because he had started to second-guess himself," he retorded, "Peter was also there, you just didn't see him. I sent him to make sure Severus gets into the castle safely."

No. 

You shook your head, not believing your ears. This couldn't be what Sirius meant by handling the Snape problem. You didn't want to believe it. Not because you were thinking too highly of Sirius but because you imagined how devastated Remus would be the next morning. You knew how much he trusted his friends.

"Remus..." you muttered under your breath, earning a hum from James that signalled him thinking the same thing. 

"Sirius will be in big trouble. I'm sure Snape had already run to Dumbledore."

You turned to James with widened eyes, he talked before you could panic. 

"Don't worry. He didn't see me as the stag or see Peter at all. That's why I was belated. I'm sorry I couldn't make it there sooner."

"Thank you for even making it there," you whispered, closing your eyes when the castle entered your sight. You avoided thinking about the possibility that James might not make it in time. What would happen then was something tragedic you never wanted to admit. "Will you see Remus tomorrow morning?"

James looked at you with such intense emotion that you thought he was pitying you.

"I will but–"

"I want to be there with you."

"No, Y/N, listen," he scratched his chin. You stared at him in question.

"I will have to explain everything to Remus tomorrow. And by that," he said, "I mean everything."

"James, I want to–"

"No. I don't want you to be there when I tell him how he almost killed you. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to be there either."

"But it's not his fault–"

"That's not what he's going to think in the morning. I'll talk to him alone. Don't insist."

This was the most serious you had ever seen James Potter. Thus, you knew he wasn't going to back down. So, you didn't insist.

By the time you were in the common room, your body had calmed down, now only exhibiting exhaustion symptoms. James hugged you one more time before sending you to your dorm room.

"Shower with warm water and go to bed. I'll be in the common room if you can't sleep."

You wanted to ask him why he didn't go to sleep, but you couldn't even part your lips. So you simply offered him a weak smile and headed straight to the bathroom. The girls in your room were already asleep, meaning you had to be extra careful not to wake them up.

You scoffed at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Frantic hair, shrunk pupils, a cut on your cheek and dirt on your face. As if all these weren't enough, the gash on your arm was throbbing with pain, blood staining your sweater and maybe even Sirius's jacket too.

You stepped into the shower and let the warm water clean you thoroughly. You clenched your teeth to suppress the groan you wanted to let out of pain from your cuts. The black dirt left you as the water stroke down your body, helping you get this night out of your skin.

Your eyes were glued to the dirt getting washed away, harking back to how the beast hauled you onto the ground. Your skin still remembered the burn from the rough friction.

You couldn't close your eyes, you couldn't even blink. Every time you did, a pair of two glistening yellow eyes would stare at you, threatening to hunt you down if you kept your eyes closed a second more. If you thought about the beast a little bit more, you were sure you would have a panic attack.

So you let your mind wander around something else.

Brown locks, chocolate eyes and pink lips. 

Your lips curved when you recalled his soft voice, the way he called you dove. You warmed up, and not because of the water but because of the memory of how Remus gently stroked your hair. How he wiped away your tears. How he braided your hair perfectly after begging Peter to teach him. How he had always given you something hand-made on your birthdays because he couldn't buy anything.

You missed him. You missed the gentle smile he was always offering you. You missed your tender bickering and his teasing innuendoes.

You had missed your best friend, and no matter what would happen tomorrow, you were going to talk to him.

You couldn't sleep well that night. You even had a nightmare about what happened.

James was late in the dream; you died in the end.

So you stayed up all night, only being able to dive into sleep when the air was lightening up, turning into sapphire blue. At the same time of the day, Remus was turning back to his human self. You would chuckle at the irony if you weren't sleep deprived.

When you woke up, your heart was hammering in your chest. Your roommate was beside you, a glass of water in her hand. You felt sweat drops in your neck and temple; you must be having another nightmare, then.

She offered you the glass, which you gladly accepted. 

"Thank you," you said rather hoarsely. 

"It's almost five in the afternoon, hun."

You sat up in your bed, brushing your hair back with your hands. You had a terrible headache.

"It is?"

"Aye. You sure you're alright?"

"Yes, Lizzie, thank you," you smiled at her before leaving the bad. You were both grateful and uneasy that you had missed the most part of the day. This meant that Remus had already learned about the prank.

You eyed yourself in the bathroom mirror. You looked way better than yesterday night, undoubtedly. Your face had gained its colour back, and your frenzied eyes were glistening with something other than horror. The only flaws were the small cut on your face and the new eyebags.

You got ready and went down to the common room. Because it was Sunday today, the common room was crowded with students. 

Your eyes searched any of the Marauders but failed. They weren't here, and you were hungry. You made your way to the Great Hall, accompanied by nice growls from your stomach. Fortunately for you, it was dinner time.

You were too focused on the food before to find yourself a seat, so you didn't notice anyone approaching you. You flinched when a kind hand touched your arm.

"Y/N?"

"Oh, hiya Lily."

The red-haired girl smiled at you with emerald eyes. She pointed to a corner around the table with her finger. "Potter asked me to call you."

Your eyes found James, who looked as tired as you but still managed to put on a simpering smile. "Cheers," you said to Lily.

You sat next to him, stuffing your plate. Your stomach growled harder at sight.

"How are you feeling?" James asked, watching you nibble on a toast.

"Have been worse. You?"

"Have been worse."

You knew what you had to ask him, but you also knew you needed your appetite at the moment, or you would starve yourself. So you simply hummed and hastened to finish your meal.

You tried not to think about the two empty seats as you sipped your drink. James and Peter were having small talk, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't listen to that either.

You swallowed your last piece as slowly as possible, delaying the inevitable. James looked at you briefly, and you understood what it meant. He raised from his seat, having you follow him.

When you two found an abandoned corner, you turned to him, tuning out the racing of your heart.

"You didn't sleep, did you?" he pointed under your eyes with a nod of his head. You shook your head. 

"Did you talk to him?"

Unfamiliar gloom darkened James's features. "I did. Told him everything."

He glanced at you before averting his eyes away again. "He just listened. Thanked me in the end and said he wanted to be left alone."

Your heart clenched in pain. You didn't want him to be left alone. "Where is he?"

"Dunno. Didn't look for him."

"Where's Sirius?"

James stayed silent for a few seconds. "Dunno, either. We had a fight, but my guess is somewhere in the forest in his animagi form."

You didn't dwell on it any further. You loved Sirius, but you loved Remus more than anyone. Albeit you weren't furious at him, you still didn't plan on seeing him any sooner. 

"I need to talk to Remus, James."

"I truly don't know where he is."

You had to find him. You had to find him and tell him that it wasn't his fault. 

You nodded at James, mumbling a quick bye before wandering around the castle, trying to figure out where he could be.

He wouldn't go to the library. It would be an easy guess for anyone trying to find him.

James said Sirius would be outside of the castle. You were sure Remus wouldn't risk encountering him.

That left you two or three places that you knew Remus would run whenever he wanted to avoid people. So you got going.

You didn't find him at Room of Requirement or Hospital Tower. You cursed the school for being this large in area. It took you almost an hour to get from one side of the castle to another. Fortunately, you were sure Remus was on the Astronomy Tower.

As you got closer and closer to the tower, anticipation chased your heartbeats high, your hands fidgeting with their fingers. You took a moment to regulate your breathing, which had no effect on your pacing heart.

Without wasting one more moment, you entered the tower.

There he was, sitting on the ground, his head low between his hands. Around him was cold and dark, gleaming with the light from the Moon and stars. Your heart ached at the sight of him. You stepped forward, letting the sound of your footsteps alert him. He didn't acknowledge you, but you were sure he had heard you. Heartbreak burned through you, maiming you because of the distance between you two.

Your steps stopped next to him. He still hadn't looked up to you but hadn't asked you to go away either. So you sat next to him, raising your head to gaze at the stars while his head was low between his hands.

"The stars are beautiful, Remus."

He didn't budge. He didn't even move. You peeked at his chocolate-brown hair, suppressing the urge to mess with them.

"Your hair looks nice today."

Silence. You didn't know if he was ignoring you or simply ignoring everyone, and it wasn't something about you.

"Doesn't your neck hurt?"

"No."

You gulped when his voice echoed in the air. 

"It must hurt if you've been keeping it like that for a long time."

"It doesn't."

"Liar."

Silence again. You yearned for his voice once more.

"You can put your head on my shoulder, Remus."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Go away, dove."

His voice was fragile and pleading. It broke your heart, shattered it into million little pieces. A lump made its way to your throat. 

"Why?" you asked, a voice as broken as your heart. "I don't want to go away."

"But I want you to," he loosened his fingers from his hair, dropping them to his lap.

You turned to him. "Don't push me away, Remus."

You reached for his hand, but he gently pulled them away. "Remus, please."

He shook his head, still not looking at you. 

"I need to know why you don't want me here."

He left your side, ambling to the parapet of the tower and leaning to it. You stared at his back in disbelief.

"Remus-"

"Go away, Y/N."

"You won't even look at my face when you kick me out."

Finally, he snapped his head and locked eyes with you. His eyes looked tired, blazing into yours. He had a new scar under his lower lip, from James's horns, probably.

"Go away."

You stood up, frowning in annoyance. "No, I'm not going anywhere," you took stern steps in his direction and closed the disturbing distance. "We need to talk, Remus."

You adored his amber eyes despite your annoyance. You loved to dive into its depth and get lost, sorting out every colour one by one.

He stayed where he was, but you detected his eyes lowering from your eyes. He stared at the cut above your cheek, clenching his jaw.

You unconsciously turned away and hid it from Remus. Memories flooded in a blink and raised the panic inside you. You could still feel the wind hitting your face and the sting from the branch that cut your skin as you fled for your life from the beast.

"It's nothing," you uttered.

Remus scoffed at your face. You saw his eyes change into something harsh and his brows furrow.

"Yeah, sure. The cut in your arm is also nothing."

You didn't ask how he knew that. After all, James did tell you that he would let Remus know everything.

"It'll heal."

"And why is it there in the first place?"

Remus took a step forward when you didn't answer.

What were you supposed to say? Because his wolf form chased you down, and you got injured trying to flee?

"I'll tell you why," he said, voice raised. "Because I hunted you down, tossed you to the ground, and yanked you around. I only did it so I could kill you."

"No–"

"Is that what you wanted to talk about? How I'm a bloodthirsty monster whose first instinct is to kill?"

"You weren't yourself."

"What would happen if James wasn't there?"

You pushed your lips together and closed your eyes. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about.

"No, open your eyes," he raised your head by your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. "Tell me what would've happened if James wasn't there."

You blinked away the tears that were threatening to invade your vision. Remus made you relive the same nightmare you had that night over and over again.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I need you to understand! I need you to understand that I'm not someone you can fucking love!"

You startled in your place, both by his anger and claim. Something had burst into flames inside you now that he had finally acknowledged your feelings.

You opened your mouth to quarrel, to tell him he's wrong, and that you loved him more than anyone or anything in the world. But he didn't let you interrupt him.

"You think I haven't thought about what you said in the last two days? You haven't left my mind for even a bloody second!" his tone was raised but broken.

"You were the one pushing me away!"

"Because I wanted to keep you away from all this shit! I wanted you to see me as something other than a cursed boy. Why do you think I never shared that secret with you?!"

"That secret is part of your story, Remus. If you thought that I wouldn't love you with it, you must've been out of your mind."

You didn't think he understood the depth of your love for him, and you needed him to understand. It didn't even matter if your feelings were not returned.

He shook his head no.

"No one, Y/N, no one loves a monster like me."

"I do," you pleaded.

Words weren't enough to convince him or express your love for him, but you were trying.

He took your arm in his hand and pulled the left sleeve of your sweater up, revealing the gash. You tried to pull your arm back, but he overpowered you, tightening the hold on your arm. You grimaced when his fingers pushed on the scar.

"This is what happens when you love someone like me."

You used your whole strength and tugged your arm back. You marvelled at your tone when you spoke.

"Stop it! You weren't yourself, Remus!"

"How does that even change anything?!" he screamed, his voice breaking and his eyes tearing up. "Don't you understand? I am a danger to you!

"Remus–"

"You think this is easy for me?! I have fucking lost my mind these last two days because you were the only one in it! My brain wouldn't think of any name other than yours! My heart wouldn't beat for any name other than yours! And when I am finally ready to tell you that I love you, too, James comes and tells me that I almost fucking killed you!"

His eyes were blood red, and the veins in his neck had popped up. Tears left his red eyes and paved the way down from his jawline to his neck.

Remus was crying.

It was a sight you had never got used in the last five years.

Your mind refused to work, denying to comprehend the words that left his mouth. It was all too much, and all in one moment.

"You love me, too?'

You didn't recognise your own voice, probably because all you could hear was Remus's confession. You expected your heart to race this time also, but instead, it was dead silent. Or maybe you were just too focused on Remus's eyes.

His tears never stopped, and he never tried to stop them.

He was breaking down at last.

You walked up to him and closed whatever distance was left. You looked up into his eyes as he lowered them to you.

"But you didn't kill me," you whispered, bringing your hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes, raining more tears on your hand. You gently wiped them away.

"I'm here, Remus. I'm here, and I'm telling you that I love you. I don't love you despite your curse, I love you with it."

Remus scrunched up his face, letting out a sob before sinking his head down your shoulder. You felt his tears on your neck.

At that moment, you knew no words would ever soothe the storm in his heart.

So you held him as he bawled like a child.

His crying sent daggers to your heart, ripping it open.

You begged for his pain to become yours so that he would never hurt the way he was hurting now.

You didn't know how many minutes past. All you knew was Remus's sobs and whimpers hurt you like nothing else ever did.

You didn't let go when the heavy sobs turned into heavy sighs or when the tear-fall in your neck turned into warm breaths.

You caressed his hair and kissed his neck when he calmed down. When he talked, it was gritty and low.

"I'm a monster, dove. A monster that will tear you to pieces if you get near."

"I love you," you whispered. You felt him let a short, breathy scoff to the crook of your neck.

"I attacked Snape last night like a beast."

"I love you."

"I almost killed you."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

You shut your eyes, breaking your face into a tiny smile. Four words, one sentence, and his lips close to your neck was all you needed for revival.

Remus inched away from your neck, lingering his lips next to your wound. The red in his eyes hadn't worn off, but the brown of his eyes was blazing with affection.

You drew a sharp breath when he kissed above your cheek.

He caressed the nick lengthwise with tender pecks. His hand grazed your other cheek while the other one made its way to your waist.

You held your breath when he lowered his lips, hovering them above your lips. His hot breath tingled your face, you fought the urge to close your eyes.

He whispered your name, and that's when you gave in. You closed your eyes and unknowingly parted your lips.

One second lasted one year. 

Something flamed up down in your chest when you felt Remus's soft lips on yours. He kissed your lips gentle and soft, but short. Pulling back, he stared into your eyes, chestnut brown darkening with every second.

"I love you," he whispered.

Within a blink, his lips crashed into your lips again, this time more intense, more passionate, taking away the air in your lungs. You melted to his touch, letting his lips savour yours while his hand on your waist tugged you closer. Your breaths mingled together, leaving your heart fluttering in your ribcage.

If time had stopped and trapped you at this moment, you wouldn't complain.

You craved his scent on your soul, his touch on your body and his lips on your lips. But most importantly, you were more than glad to be buried in his love.

He pulled away and smiled at the way you filled your lung with air. You felt his thumb caress your face.

"There's no getting rid of me, now, dove." 

His smile was tired, his eyes still carrying the heartbreak of yesterday. You knew he was still a broken boy inside, but you loved him anyway.

Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think!

if you enjoyed my writing and this fic, please, buy me a cofee <33

[dr-spectre]

So.... This game is 2 years old now huh?

Honestly... I don't think i have a TON to say about this game. It's just a great ass fucking video game that has given me a lot of fun and great memories!

This game came out during my final year of school, which is kinda funny considering that Splatoon 3 acts like a "finale" to a trilogy. It's interesting how those kinds of things work out eh? Splatoon 2 came out at the start of my secondary education, and Splatoon 3 came out at the tail end of my final year.

I remember thinking before the game came out, "why do we need a Splatoon 3? This is pointless, it's just more Splatoon 2." And then my mind was quickly changed once i got to play the Splatfest test fire and the actual game itself.....

I completed ROTM in such a short amount of time and i documented my reactions to my friends. Although i was spoiled in that Deep Cut had boss fights and Mr. Grizz was the final boss, ROTM still gave me a giant smile to my face all the way through. It was so fun, so charming and just a really good single player experience.

One of the things that i LOVE about Splatoon 3 is the vibe. I just love the location of Splatsville, i love the aesthetics, the lighting, the model improvements from Splatoon 2, the music, it's my favourite art style/aesthetic out of any of the Splatoon games by far. It just feels so polished, i don't know how to exactly describe it.

Also the fact that this game won best multiplayer game of 2022 over CALL OF DUTY! OVERWATCH 2 AND MULTIVERSUS MAKES ME SO GIDDY AND HAPPY!

PEOPLE GOT MAD ABOUT THIS AND THAT MAKES ME WANNA EVIL LAUGH! All of those fucking depressed and sad Call of Duty players who whine and complain about how "wahh modern gaming sucks!! There's no good games anymore wahhh!! It's all microtransactions wahhh!!" BITCH! SPLATOON 3 IS LITERALLY THE GAME YOU'VE BEEN ASKING FOR!! Yet you won't play it because it's on Nintendo huh? Yeah... You're a fucking PUSSY!! YOU'RE WEAK!! You're SCARED to be seen as less of a manly man!! You only wanna play games with oily dirty buff men.... Yet you call others who play games like Splatoon gay? Hmm..... Sounds like you're a wittle insecureeeeee!!!!

Have fun rotting in microtransaction hell you LOSERS!! GAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyways.... uh.... sorry....

I also fucking love Deep Cut too. I thought i wasn't gonna like these guys and i remember thinking when i first saw them "oh... okayyyy..."

But now? I love these bastards.

I love their dynamic and how they are bandits but they actually wanna help the people back in Splatsville. That is such a cool and unique take to have for Idol characters. The Squid Sisters are very cutesy and so are Off the Hook, but Deep Cut aren't. They are loud, messy, chaotic, in your face, rude, etc. They are about contrast and the character designers did a phenomenal job at conveying that theme via their backgrounds and looks.

Another thing that i love about Splatoon 3 is that it also acts as a celebration of things that have come before, Inkopolis Plaza and Square return as hubs, old colour combos from previous games act as loading screens, most of the music returns in the jukebox, it rewards long time fans for sticking around and for a long running franchise IT'S SUPER IMPORTANT to have that stuff!!!

Seeing the improvements in the model quality from Splatoon 1 to 3 genuinely makes me kinda emotional, it shows how far we've come in just a little under 10 years...

It really homes in on the point that... These characters, have grown up with us.... The Squid Sisters are about to reach their mid 20s, Pearl is nearly 30 fucking years old!!!

And the last thing i wanna bring up before i talk about the Grand Fest...

...Is Side Order.

This fucking DLC... My god... Being able to experience it by myself and just enjoy the stuff i was seeing, being able to SCREAM AND CRY AS MUCH I WANT WAS SO IMPORTANT TO ME DUDE!

When i got to the 10th floor in the tutorial and i saw Marina Agitando staring me down.... I did the loudest gasp a human could possibly do and my jaw was hung to the floor for a solid MINUTE!

Marina's first fucking dev diary made me cry and scream, THAT IS NOT A JOKE!!!! THESE CHARACTERS ARE THAT IMPORTANT TO ME!

And the final boss.... Made me cry, it broke me down, i was singing along to Ebb and Flow as best as i could, it felt like i was brought back to 2018, being in my room, listening to that song on repeat... I feel like a kid again....

I love this song... i love it so much... Like it's not the most hype finale song ever, but, the emotion behind it, the build up from Splatoon 2... The power this song has in it's meaning... It's some good shit man...

So yeah! I love Splatoon 3!!! It's my favourite game out of the series and anyone who is gonna jump into this game now is gonna have a LOT to chew on.

And... It's both sweet and sad that we're at the end. This is it... The moment we've been waiting for. The final Splatfest to end them all. The event 9 years in the making.

The Grand Festival...

I am extremely excited and so FUCKING NERVOUS for this Splatfest!!!! I know i am going to cry and be so overwhelmed with joy. Seeing the Squid Sisters and Off the Hook perform their old songs again after all of these years is gonna make me sob so loudly it's not even funny.

These characters genuinely mean the world to me and it's gonna be so fucking hard for me to watch their final major appearance and say goodbye. Cause after this, we don't know what's gonna happen. I know they will come back, they have to but... In what capacity? That's what I'm scared about...

So yeah, let's savior this moment when it eventually arrives, take all the time you need to be engulfed in the Grand Fest.

Thank you Splatoon 3, you have given me so much.... It's not time to say goodbye just yet but, i wanna watch you as you walk into the sunset with your head held high....

[mysunshinetemptress]

Rápido

Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x child!reader

Warnings: none except more shitty writing sorry

You’re still only small, still wobbly on your little legs, and still along way off being able to express your feelings opting to often at times throw tantrums.

You’ve spent more time on football fields than in playgrounds, more time in locker rooms, training rooms, and even physio rooms than a nursery, interacting with children your own age. But that’s to be expected when your Mama and Mamaí are world-class athletes playing for one of the best teams in the world. Surely the experiences they give you during your globetrotting are way better than the silly little nursery, your classmates are also professional athletes who know how to walk, talk and write, is that not better for you than some other snot-nosed two-year-olds who cry when they can’t reach a colour to draw on paper with.

But while all of these experiences are great, you’ve never really learned to share, you haven’t had to, your Mamaí’s are yours, your Tia’s and Grandparents are too. They have to be, they don’t spend any time with any other little kids like they do you. Your their baby, the teams baby they remind you as such when you start to kick off at the sight of them holding other kids hands as they walk out on to the pitch while your stuck with your Tia Alba and Abuela.

It was routine at this stage frustration would bubble in your tiny chest like a deflated soccer ball. You would stomp your foot, a wobbly attempt that would send you teetering before Tia Alba swooped you up, whispering words you didn't quite understand in order to calm you down.

Today is different though, you don't arrive at the stadium with Tia Alba and Abuela, in fact, you don't even get dropped off at Abuela's house, maybe your Mamai's forgot but you don't dare let out a sound in case they remember.

A grin stretched ear to ear on your face as Mama hoisted you out of the car seat. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass and popcorn mingled in the air, a symphony that announced you'd arrived at your favourite place – Camp Nou, Barcelona's legendary stadium. But today, something felt different. It was just you and Mamai's. Mama was here, her strong arms scooping you up and burying your face in the familiar scent of sweat and something sweet that must be Mamaí's perfume. While your Mamí retrieves everyone's bags from the back of the car before coming over and smiling down at you.

"Hola, Rápido," Mamí chuckled, her voice warm against your ear. "Excited for the big game?." You nod happily "Si, Mamí."

Suddenly, there's a loud shout from behind you and your Mamaí’s turn to see Mapi running straight for you all.

"There's my favourite niece!" she exclaimed, reaching out her hands. You giggled at the energetic defender reaching towards her, wanting to be passed off. Your Mama laughs happily giving you over "Hola to you too Mapi." Mapi waves your Mama off as she starts talking to you excitedly and begins to walk inside, Ingrid pulls your Mama into a hug "Hola Ale, Jenni how is Rápido today?." Your Mamaí’s begin to walk in with the younger Norwegian as they smile at the sound of your giggles. "She is good, she still doesn't know about the surprise yet." Ingrid smiled watching your interaction with Mapi as they made their way into the changing room "I think she'll love it."

Your eyes widened as you entered the locker room, hand clutched tightly in Mapi's. It wasn't just the usual pre-game buzz. Today, colourful balloons were tied to every locker, and a giant banner adorned the wall that read: "Welcome to the Team, Rápido!"

A gasp escaped your tiny lips. All your Tia's, your Mamaí's teammates, were gathered around, beaming at you. Cata, the gentle giant of a goalkeeper, knelt down, her arms outstretched. you were, usually shy around so many people, but you ran towards her, a shy smile forming on your face. Cata scooped you up, showering you with tickles, making you erupt in a fit of giggles.

Suddenly, a booming voice filled the room. "Rápido!" It was your Mama, holding a tiny Barcelona jersey with the number "10" emblazoned on the back. It was small just like you, the number your Mamí always wore. Your eyes welled up with a mixture of confusion and excitement.

Mama explained, "This is your jersey, Rápido. You're officially part of the team now!"

Unable to word how grateful you were you ran straight for your Mama, who didn't hesitate to pick you up and hold you close and squeeze her as tight as your little arms could "Gracias Mama." Your Mamí lets out a gasp pretending you had hurt her feelings after not coming over to her. You wiggled out of your Mama's arms as she put you down before running over to your Mamí " Wow so fast Rápido." You nodded happily before trying to squeeze her just like you did your Mama "I'm wearing you." Mamí laughs "Yeah you are wearing my number."

The locker room erupted in cheers and whistles. Mapi hoisted you high in the air, your tiny "10" jersey flapping in the excitement.

Ingrid ruffled your hair playfully. "Looks like we have a new teammate, and she's already stealing the spotlight from Alexia!"

Your Mama, playfully nudged Ingrid with a grin. "Don't worry," she winked, "I think Rápido has plenty of time to learn from the best."

Cata, still beaming, handed you a miniature soccer ball. It was soft and squishy, perfect for your tiny grasp. You bounced it clumsily on the floor, sending giggles rippling through the room. You lay the football down stepping back from the ball and looking at Cata before kicking the ball as hard as you could, Cata softly fell to the right as your ball rolled left past the goalkeeper. The locker room erupted into cheers as the door opened and Jonatan walked in.

"Ladies we have a game to get ready for vamos." The room let out a small apology as your Mamí picked you up putting you on her bench before getting changed into her own kit.

"So you're going to walk out with Mama doesn't that sound fun." You nodded "And you." Mamí shakes her head "No remember I have to hold another little kid's hand." You looked at her confused "Why."

The confusion etched on your face tugged at your Mamí's heartstrings.

"Because today," Mamí explained, kneeling next to you, "we get to share the walkout with other special little kids. Just like you get to today."

Your brow furrowed, the gears turning in your tiny mind. The idea of sharing wasn't entirely foreign, but it usually involved toys, not something as special as walking out onto the pitch at Camp Nou.

That same frustration bubbled in your tiny chest like a deflated soccer ball only this time it felt ten times worse.

You shook your head confused as to why you couldn't walk with both of your parents like you normally do happily in the middle "but why."

Suddenly, the locker room door opened "Ok ladies to the tunnel." Your Mama comes over taking your hand "Ready Rápido?." You shook your head "No Mamí." Your Mama looked at you her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion "Mamí is right there."

You turn your head just in time to see your Mamí take the hand of a random little girl.

A pang of jealousy shot through your heart as you watched Mamí clasp hands with the unfamiliar girl. Her smile, usually reserved for you and Mama, was directed at this stranger. You mumbled, a tiny voice barely a squeak, "But that's not me, Mamí."

Your Mama's brow furrowed. She crouched down, her warm brown eyes filled with concern. "What's wrong, Rápido?"

You struggled to find the words, your lower lip trembling slightly. Finally, it tumbled out, a garbled mess of emotions, "Walk out... with you... and Mamí ... in the middle..."

Your Mama tries but fails to stop your tears and before she can even talk to your Mamí about it the referees in front are walking towards the pitch.

Your Mama tries to walk out after them but your feet are planted firmly to the ground and you are really crying now Alexia knows you are boarding on a tantrum and the Camp Nou tunnel is not it the place for it so she scoops you up Instead, pulling your head into her neck as you continue to cry.

The cheers of the crowd outside the tunnel were a distant roar compared to the storm raging inside you. The hope of walking out with both your parents, a tiny hand held firmly in each of theirs, felt stolen, replaced by an unfamiliar girl who had somehow usurped your special place.

Mama, ever perceptive, felt her frustration even through the tears. "Shh, Rápido," she whispered, "It's okay to feel sad."

Pulling back slightly, she wiped your tear-streaked face with a gentle thumb. "Remember what I told you? Sharing your Mamí and I doesn't mean we you any less. This a chance to share the magic of the game with other little fans, just like you."

You sniffled, trying to process this. Sharing toys was okay, even sharing snacks with you Tia's sometimes. But this felt different. This was your little family.

Sensing your hesitation, Mama smiled. "Why don't we make a deal? Right now, your Mamí walks out with the other little girl and holds her hand. Later, all three of us to walk together and Mamí and I will swing you, would you like that?"

At this point your standing in line every other mascot in front of a Barcelona player except you as your Mama still tries to bribe you.

A tiny spark of hope flickered in your eyes. The thought of playing the swing game might just be enough for you to settle.

Your Mamí looks over to you and Mama worries etched across her face but Alexia just shakes her head and so Jenni turns back to the front.

You only begin to calm down after your Mama has pinky promised to swing you after the match, only then are you happy to go off and sit with Abuela and Tia Alba telling them happily about scoring on Cata and how Mama and Mamí are going to swing you.

Later, as the stadium erupted in cheers, Mamí found you by Abuela and Tia Alba. you were, still buzzing from the match rattling off all your favourite moments as Mamí listened patiently.  At a pause in your ramble Mamí held up her pinky finger with a wink.

"Swing time, Rápido,?" she asked.

You squealed with delight, launching yourself into Mamí's arms for a tight hug. As you walked towards your Mama, the tantrum and jealousy from earlier had completely disappeared. 

Grabbing your Mama's hand you let out a scream as they swung you high into the air laughing at your little giggles. You still have a long way to go with sharing but for now, it's just you and Your Mama and Mamí.

[konigsblog]

könig celebrating birthdays

cw; fluff, nothing but fluff. gn!reader

writing this because it's my bday and i wanna write about celebrating it with my fictional husband :3

it's not surprising that könig doesn't like huge parties. he doesn't like being in public spaces too much, as he starts to feel claustrophobic due to his huge stature in comparison to others. he becomes standoffish and easily irritated in public, sometimes putting on a front to make himself appear as confident and cocky, rather than socially anxious and awkward.

luckily, he has plenty of other ways to celebrate birthdays, ones that don't make both people want to crawl into a hole and shrivel into dust...

könig loves to spoil people, he would especially love to spoil you on your birthday, or honestly whenever he can. he finds himself browsing expensive jewellery shops, looking at the wedding rings before catching himself and scrolling to the necklaces and earrings.

he knows almost everything about you; from your favourite colour to that one fanpage you had over a decade ago of your celebrity crush. he knows exactly what you want, and how to treat you right.

he'll buy you a bouquet of flowers, your favourite kind before settling them in the vase. you're still fast asleep, and könig is surprised he even managed to sneak away from you, as you'd been clinging to him all night long! then, he began to bake. könig would be an excellent cook, he'd love to home cook your meals, make your favourite cake for your birthday and watch you blow out the candles giggling.

he spends hours preparing the cake, still surprised that he hasn't heard anything from you, other than deep, and very loud snores. once he's finished, he'll place it away in the fridge for later, wiping the sweat from his forehead. and only then, does he wake you up, meeting a very grumpy and sleepy version of you who only wants to warmth of their bed. he practically has to drag you awake, he's desperate to see your reaction, to see that pretty smile when you open your gift.

you sit beside him on the couch, face buried into his arm as you finally wake yourself up, opening a gift he'd bought you. you're smiling broadly, opening a pair of new earrings, ones that you had your eye on for ages. you thank him, kissing his cheek softly. you best believe he'll buy you your favourite chocolates, sharing them with you at the end of the day with your favourite movie playing.

even if he's not big on birthdays, he makes sure yours is special. like i said; he's an amazing baker and chef, and would definitely make you your birthday breakfast. whatever your favourite is — pancakes, fruit, açai bowls — he already has it ready for you.

your night is spent eating a dish könig made for you, and sharing a bottle of wine between the two of you, all while your favourite show plays in the background of your laughter and conversations.