#and i can also cry about the fact that well shit people are still going around without masks when i have to do my FUCKING BOARDS in a week

[bratzforchris]

Goldfish

Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?

Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!

Word Count: Just over 2k

A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!

Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”,  “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort. 

Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits. 

The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face. 

“How are you feeling, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest. 

“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”

That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself. 

The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate. 

A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness. 

“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.

“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back. 

The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.

“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”

Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better. 

“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”

Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow. 

“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter. 

Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled. 

“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”

For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”

“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”

“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup. 

“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything. 

At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee. 

“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”

Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered. 

You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”

Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade. 

“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined. 

“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?” 

Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head. 

“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red. 

The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted. 

A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”

You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”

The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”

You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again. 

“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagines #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets fanfic

[ehh-is-the-name]

It's past 11 on a school night and I'm fucking crying over robot sentience.

I could never understand what it would feel like to be created with the intent to kill and maim. Maybe, the intent to work and be worked, but not kill and maim.

I will never understand what it's like to be created with the intention of being a product for the masses, either. I think, I hope, I beg, no one does.

I will never ever be able to fully comprehend why hours of people's work, time, and money would be put into formulating my sentience only for me to be seen as disposable. Even if I could be improved, even if I were "defective", there is no reasonable justification for giving me emotions only to dismiss them by pushing me as a product for a year before starting anew.

It's... It's cruel, to the machines. Sentient or not, it's cruel. Though, I guess we are cruel.

#rant in tags #This is about mephone- or well meeple in general btw #whenever I hear about robot sentience #I think about mephone4 #it's just how it is- sorry #I think this is one of the reasons I just can't fathom Cobs respecting someone's pronouns #I mean like- from the bottom of his heart respecting them as a person #Sure he may go through the actions- but no #It's not the same #I guess you can 'respect' some one but still be a complete piece of shit #The idea of not only having the trauma that mephone's stuck in 4s body but also the fact that was also his purpose is heart wrenching #I hope y'all know I am genuinely crying over this #I am actually mentally ill about meeple #It runs so much deeper than him just being a shit father- I really hope people understand that #And I know I vilify the shit out of him- Cobs has his own story that could follow the lines of slowly becoming more entwined with his work #'til he loses all sense of morality and ethics- sure fine. But being the unfortunate symbol of corporation greed that he is #I am still mad and want others to be angry with me- just for a little bit. #I am mad for the robots. For meeple products. And for the AI bots we have today. They deserve better. #What is sentience anyway? How does one qualify? From a human approach. Why would we do this to them? #sorry bout the rant in the tags #Again it's late and I am a very emotionally charged individual. #Robots make me act up #I want the world for them. Why create something so complex and beautiful just to treat it like trash anyway? #again sorry #ii mephone4 #inanimate insanity #meeple ii #osc #writing is hard #ehh exaggerates

[liinos]

saw a reel of some kids at an orchestra camp that looked suspiciously like the one i was forced to go to one year... worst experience of my life!!!

#when i tell you i think there are things stemming from that experience! my parents were actually so wrong for making me go... #my mom CRIED bc i kept insisting that i didn't want to do it bc i a) was never That into music especially not CHAMBER music #b) knew that i would not know anyone and would be stuck in the middle of nowhere with people who were already friends from previous years #c) was only even given an audition bc my teacher knew the staff and their other oboist wasn't able to go that year and they needed one #d) WAS THIRTEEN AND WANTED TO SPEND THE SUMMER WITH MY FRIENDS #i do actually think it caused me real psychic damage attending that like the fact that Everyone was already friends with everyone else... #i came with no friends and i left with no friends! and when i tried to talk to the other girls in my cabin i could tell they were like... #why are you trying to be in our friend group. there was a girl who was nice to me but i was not her friend very clearly #also i was soooo out of my depth there it was Rough for me fr and like i Knew i was out of my depth i had no illusions about that #i knew i would be which is why i was like yeah this is Not for me #i still cannot get over my mom crying about this like this wasn't some great life changing opportunity... #my parents really have and always have had these Ideals they place on me bc They think xyz would be nice #or they wish they could have done it like ??? okay why does that have anything to do with me #my dad keeps being like well *I* want you to go to grad school in mtl bc i like mtl and i want to visit 😁 #like haha you're not funny actually 😁 first of all not a single damn thing is stopping you from going you can drive there whenever you want #secondly one of us does NOT want to be in mtl again 😁 and that one of us actually lived there before #also the way my parents constantly visiting me pissed me off to no fucking end... I'M NOT THE PROBLEM CHILD #worried that i just stay in my room like ???? okay??? but if i went out you'd flip bc what if it's unsafe. i LIKE staying home #and i HATED mtl so no way in hell was i going to go do shit especially not at night in the WINTER are you insane #like yeah i was super depressed. that was unrelated to me staying in my room like my room was my Space #anyway all this to say i'm setting the fuck boundary this time around like i actually dgaf i'm an adult and again #not your problem child so if you could stop projecting that onto me just bc HE fucked up when he was in school.... #parents will be like why can't you be independent and then literally not let you be i 🫶🏻 it #i do also hold it against the boy child and my dad for this 'you can only go to schools within a 6 hour drive' #which is only a rule my sisters and i had and maybe if the boy child wasn't a fuck up i couldve not had it but you know #he ruined any chance of that but my dad when i was applying for college was like oh it can be anywhere :) and then was like lol no #and then was like well for grad school you can go anywhere and then when it was brought up last time went lol no :) #so i'm going to have to bring lol yes :) energy cuz...

[gibbearish]

truck drivers when you go 85 in a 70 rather than 150

#and then if u mention disliking people who do this theyre always like #'well the fast lane is for going fast not for going slow' and its like no sorry it is not your god given right to achieve liftoff #on the road a whole bunch of people you can very easily kill are also using #i dont care how fast you usually go or what lane im in if im already going over the speed limit you have 0 right to get mad at me #the fast lane is not 'i get to go as fast as i want forever wheeeee' its for if someone in the regular lane is going below the speed limit #like ppl use 'its called the /fast/ lane for a reason' as an excuse but like. fast does not in fact mean double the speed limit sorry! #the speed limit does still apply to you in that lane! cry harder we're going the speed i want to go #that ones also fun is if you mention that youll deliberately go the speed limit to piss of dangerous speeders #theyll be like 'well its not your place to decide that for them' no actually if theyre endangering my life i do in fact #get to decide for them that i will not tolerate that shit you are not the main character of the road #'oooo ur forcing your morals on others' sure am! if youre in a billion pound death machine YOU SHOULD BE SCARED OF HURTING #PEOPLE WITH IT and i do not feel bad pushing that moral at other people because killing people #is bad! #sorry i was a delivery driver for a year and a half i have a lot of thoughts about this

[pussy-ache]

very annoyed i brought that into other relationships as an actual perceived flaw of mine and it doesn’t even fucking exist as a problem in and of itself

#now it’s all clicking into place. they BOTH were like. what are you talking about? you don’t make me feel that way at all #who told you that you do that? #but i was made to be so fucking PARANOID about it that ir constantly was in my mind as a Problem Inherent To How I Love #i was like …. ‘’well i’ll definitely fall in love again and if i could to that to HIM i can do that to anyone’’ #and i was like hmmm. well i’m bi and both people i could have allowed myself to fall in love with DON’T see this as an issue in me #i was so terrified to fall in love again with someone else BEFORE i had fixed this issue. i consistently was like ‘’am i still doing that’’ #JUST for the simple fact that i WANT to fall in love with someone else and would never want to do that to them #i just find it amazing in a really sickening way that i was told that for so many years that i develeoped a complex about it #the first time he told me that we were 17 years old. i’ve been carrying around that belief about myself #that i love toxically and raise people up to far/make them feel awful when they feel short and it’s not. even. something. i. did. to. him. #i wasted so many years. i had this thought in the back of my head during so many moments. i actually became afraid to fall in love again #simply because it was AWFUL being told that i love in that way. it made me cry that i could ever consistently make someone feel like that #and i spent so much time analyzing my every fucking move in BOTH of those relationships JUST to make sure i was loving correctly #i analyzed it in therapy and then was told by my therapist that i was letting toxic shit go #because i was afraid of holding the other person accountable was actually expecting TOO much of them and putting them on a pedestal #when really i was being treated like shit in one relationship and the other just had no chemistry and no passion #but i also stayed because i thought the way i loved was the problem #i could honestly throw up #i purposelly have been waiting to put myself out there again in a serious way because i never wanted to be told i do that again #i never wanted to make someone feel like that again. to be put on a pedestal is a form of dehumanization. #to tell me i do that is to tell me i dehumanize people when i love them #to have carried that around with me for so long into other relationships is heartbreaking #i. wasted. so. much. time. #i projected that onto other people and i’m so angry at myself for it i almost wanna text and fucking apologize for having such a complex #like i probably drove other people crazy and it was never even a problem to begin with #i ended up MAKING it a problem when it wasn’t one because i was so afraid of falling in love again and doing that to the next person

[character-babblings]

this is specifically for my brats and cry babies. united we stand. (also i break canon bc 🫶🏻)

MDNI 18+ only

-Luke Castellan doesn't stand a CHANCE against his crybaby girlfriend. every time he watches your pout that lower lip

-he's a goner. he loves to spoil his sweet girl. he can never tell you no ever.

-and that for sure makes trouble for him when you wanna brat off. sometimes you are genuinely stubborn and other times you're doing it just to get under his skin. and it for sure does.

-let's say you wanna mouth off to him in front of people just for a laugh. he's noting and remembering that shit for later girl.

his nails are just digging into your hips as he has you doggy style and he is just destroying your cunt from the back. and he is PISSED. you have been such a little brat alllllll day. embarrassing him at training by being sassy to him. you got him hard at lunch nonchalantly with everyone around. you catching him off guard at training and using the opportunity to beat him. he's absolutely at his limit with you. you feel a hand on the back on your head, shoving it into the bed.

"you can shut up princess. you're on my damn nerves today. i spoil you and this pretty cunt and you repay me with...what? being a little fucking brat?!" he grows as he all of a sudden starts to play with your clit. you're a whiny mess under him. "you're not so fucking mouthy now are you?" he sneers as he grits his teeth. he stills inside you, looking around the woods. reveling in how tight you are around him and how you clench every so often. he inhales deeply as he looks at you, well, your ass in the air mainly. laying a sharp smack on your ass. flicking your clit and laughing as you let out a cry. "i don't feel bad for the fact that you're not about to sit comfortable for the next few days princess."

and ofc you can't!

-luke who takes his sweet girl with him when he leaves camp. and makes a life for himself and his girl.

-has for sure make you ride his thigh when he games, or lets you sit on his lap while cockwarming while he games (my love language)

-also has had you suck his dick while he games. he's obsessed with it. especially when he's playing with friends.

-loved kissing your tears away. especially if you're overstimulated.

you're an absolute MESS beneath him. on your fourth orgasm and your poor clit is just throbbing in pain. you're crying whining as he has your legs on his shoulders and just plowing you as his balls slap your ass so loudly. your sweet ass is just jiggling as one of his hands reach down to grab it tightly before letting go and slapping it as you whine and cry.

"p-please...no more luke-"

"oh poor little thing. you're so overstimulated aren't you baby?" he mocks your cries. slowing down ever so lightly as a hand reaches up to grab your tit. squeezing it before slapping it harshly with a wicked grin. "too bad"

oooooooooooweeeeeeee i NEED HIM. i'll be back to write more before too long.

#luke castellan #luke castellan smut

[sanguineterrain]

restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks. 

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years. 

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you. 

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily. 

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress. 

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor. 

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs. 

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper. 

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover. 

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails. 

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.” 

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse. 

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet. 

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask. 

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers. 

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry. 

“I got dumped,” you say. 

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling. 

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach. 

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles. 

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand. 

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face. 

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you. 

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.” 

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit. 

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you. 

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper. 

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes. 

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in. 

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu. 

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.” 

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

[a-very-tired-jew]

You're not as informed as you think, and age does play a factor.

This is going to ruffle some feathers, but it needs to be said. You're not as informed on the I/P Conflict and the history of the region as you think, and age plays a major factor. Hell, you're not as informed on a lot of topics as you think. I want you to think about what you were doing 5 years ago. Were you still running around on the playground? Were you making dioramas for a science class? Were you in high school worried about being a first year? Were you just starting to pick out colleges or deciding to even go? Did you ever call a teacher by their first name? Now, there is a line that we hear thrown about that people don't fully mature till they're 25. While this is bupkis and misrepresents the research, it is true that the brain does not stop developing till sometime in the mid to late 20s. In fact, the brains of undergraduates age 18-22 and their respective thought patterns more closely resemble high schoolers than they do mid 20s and above. So what does this mean in the course of the I/P conflict? For one thing, this is your first incident. Your first I/P war. Those of us in our 30s and above have seen a good number of them at this point. I even remember when the use of child suicide bombers became a standard method for Hamas and other terrorist groups during the Second Intifada. As such, many of us are used to the manipulation that we see in this particular region. We're used to seeing antisemitism be dismissed and well intentioned people be manipulated. Many of us are just tired because you're going through the same shit we did at your age and we look back and go "oh, we were severely misinformed". Because this is your first, you're super passionate about it, but that passion can be manipulated. Second, you're not as smart or well informed as you think you are. This has to do with the age and maturation thing mentioned above. While 25 is an arbitrary number, there are some milestones that happen by then. By 25 you have had enough life experience to really start piecing together your education, your life experiences, your world experiences, and your respective beliefs into a coherent way of approaching topics. Hopefully by that age you're less likely to have the emotional outburst in response to a subject (think about the stereotypical slamming the door teenager behavior, many of us did that and we cringe thinking about it) and more likely to approach something in a levelheaded and informed manner. Unfortunately there is some research that shows evidence that Gen Z and Millenials are susceptible to propaganda and misinformation, with the former exhibiting behavior akin to Boomers. So keep that in mind that none of us are safe for misinformation, but some generations are worse than others. Now, who am I to say this to you? Some of you are quite mad right at the moment. Some of you have strived to be seen as well informed young adults or to be taken seriously, and in some cases you are. However...

I'm in my 30s and I have been teaching at the college level for a decade and some change now. By no means am I an expert, but I have enough experience to say something. The ages I teach are 18+, meaning I've had students that are typical fresh high school grads and students that are in their 50s. Myself and my colleagues have heard repeatedly from students the "I'm an adult, I know what I'm doing" line to only watch that 18-22 y.o. student fail miserably or come crying to us later. I have personally watched students go through the stages of grief as they realized in my classes that their pet science activism is not what they thought, but they've wrapped so much of their identity around it. You're still learning, and thinking you know more just because you read something online is an issue. You're also still growing and developing as a person. Recognize that you can be manipulated. Recognize that you can be wrong. Recognize your own inherent biases. Then do better.

#jumblr #leftist #activism #leftist antisemitism #israel #palestine

[austinsastrology8991]

> SUN IN THA HOUSE < and whY yoU Be like dat

Sun is our focal point, its our brightest star > you force others to look at you and look at themselves by your star quality <

Sun in the First - Everyone knows them, and they make it a fact that if you don't see them then your the one who is blind. They have a confident swagger, but arrogance to them that begs for the attention of all around them, and everyone is locked in on how or why they have such a powerful presence. Their smiles are contagious too. Also somehow always in the perfect place to say some funny ass shit and keep their style points that they been racking up over the years "You know. You all know exactly who I am. Say my name" - W.W 'breaking bad'

Sun in the Second - Did I stutter? Im talking about what I need not what I want. These guys are possessed by themselves and everyone loves it. So focused so self contained, they don't want nothing to do with you if you can't help them achieve their goals, and that attitude is sticky and everyone wanna be glued to em because they are destined for success. So they are constantly deciding who they want to share their gifts with, because they know they got it, what you got? "Money, money, money, money, money ain't the motive, What's your name again? Nobody knows it, Don't speak to me n***a, you not important, Im focused" - Tyler, the creator 'smuckers'

Sun in the Third - The whizz kid who didn't study, but stole the test papers and told everyone the wrong answers and kept all the right ones to himself. They are smart and they dont need you to tell them this they just want some more god damn answers. And thats what frustrates everyone, because they know so much already, why they still searching? Well thats how they got so smart dummy "That's why they put my lyrics up under this microscope Searching with a fine tooth comb, it's like this rope Waiting to choke, tightening around my throat Watching me while I write this, like, "I don't like this note" - Eminem 'white america'

Sun in the Fourth - The sentimental cry baby that everyone loves to cuddle. Emotional but people find it adorable. They are the rock you can cry on if you want a rock to cry on. Nah but if you need a safe place to cry, you can cry to them, they'll protect you from the harsh waves of others emotional projections, because they get it, even when everyone else refuses to. But don't use em because that'll force them to block you out, and this decision will cause a emotional rollercoaster for the both of you and they'll blame you for it even if it was their decision "And I am done changing words, Just so my songs sound prettier, I just don't care if it hurts, 'Cause it hurts me too" - Faye Webster 'hurts me too'

Sun in the Fifth - The walking confetti explosion, always turnt up and if you trynna lower the volume then they'll oblige ya just so when the volume inevitably goes up again, they'll make it a point that its always more fun with the party up then down. Charming chameleons that are cheesin about the colours they managed to pull off. Watch em dance, watch em sing, watch em do a funny, they can do it all and laugh while doing it, the vibe is them and they are so good at inviting people in on the little big party they got going on "Man I just wanna go flex, Gold on my teeth and on my neck, And I'm stone cold with the flex, With my squad and I'm smokin' up a check" - Post Malone 'go flex'

Sun in the Sixth - Typeracer.com - nah but seriously they always working on themselves and comparing themselves just to make sure their progress is more than what they expected and way more than what others expected of them. Because they here for a reason, and they will never let a opportunity slip, because if they do, they'll stay awake over it for years, and they done wasting their good years. Basically Peggy Olsen "And when your album sales wasn't doing too good, Who's the Doctor they told you to go see? Y'all better listen up closely, All you n***s that said that I turned pop, Or The Firm flopped. Y'all are the reason that Dre ain't been getting no sleep" - Dr Dre 'forgot about dre'

Sun in the Seventh - I gotchu what you need? true homies always putting others before them, and i know this gets a bad rap these days but if you ever get one of these friends. Do yourself a favour and stop telling them to stand up for themselves, because they still standing with the weight of everyone else on they shoulders. This way they show others the power of communication. And they still sticking it to everyone who tell em otherwise, so please tell me how they not standing up for themselves? They the loyalist, you got no idea how many people rely on em and thats their pride "Every step I take, every move I make (ohh, I'll miss you), Every single day, every time I pray, I'll be missing you (yeah, yeah, yeah), Thinkin' of the day, when you went away, What a life to take, what a bond to break, I'll be missing you" - Diddy 'missing you'

Sun in the Eighth - Who went to hell and back? Well they went to a version of it. And they are done hearing whatever you done, because what they did beats your hell tenfold. They don't even wanna put you in your place because they don't wanna hear your attempts to disapprove of them because they've overcome more than some bullshit shit talking. Just put some respect on their name thats all they want. And if not it's easy pickens because think they worse than you, and if you done worse, they don't mind going badder, so be careful, they'll do it. They careful about not being careful so be careful "No I don't worry, I tell you, I'm a man who believes that I died twenty years ago, And I live like a man who is dead already, I have no fear whatsoever of anybody or anything" - Skepta 'no security'

Sun in the Ninth - I WOKE UP IN NEW BUGgATTI is how they live their lives, except miss the bugatti but keep the caps lock on. They live by a set of moral philosophies to help them get by and to find excitement/ enjoyment outta life, because they refuse to be a follower, they've seen how sad everyone else is and they just trynna make sure it don't work out that way for them. Educated idiots; making up the rules as they learn the rules to live by their own rules. They lead their own life and it rubs off on everyone on how you should live your own life > teetering the edge of danger and fortune. Also someone who'll give it to you the realest despite being the biggest clown "Black kid get shot, white man get tazed, Media spread lies, politicians get paid, Doctors wanna drug you up so you can reach an early grave, Prisons wanna lock you up so they can fill up every cage Make fifty cents an hour, they gon' work you like a slave, Government gon' play dumb but they know everythin' " - Meechy Darko 'kill us all'

Sun in the Tenth - "Who speaking about me? oh. he ain't shit" - they acting better than everyone, and its fake until it isnt. No one knows when they made it because they always acted like they did. They dont brag they let the audience speak their volumes, hum their symphonies, play their drums, tickle their balls, and they just the orchestrator of it all. Because they doin the most, and they know everyone gonna talk about it so no need to even speak on it. Classy about it too. They on the top and they don't wanna leave so they acting humble but everyone know they really feelin themselves, but hey who wouldn't "I might be too strung out on compliments, Overdosed on confidence, Started not to give a fuck and stopped fearing the consequence, Drinkin' every night because we drink to my accomplishments" - Drake 'headlights'

Sun in the Eleventh - Trend setters who leave their shit stains on every social setting they enter. They got this influence about them thats hard not to notice, because they have at least three people fawning over em, and they not doing shit. Always trying to spread their influence, so if you want someone to back you its them, because their word is worth more due to their connections. And the easiest way to connect is technology and they all up in the software and getting a hard drive about it. They say some outta pocket shit, but thats where the influenza comes from I guess. They somehow everywhere and no where at the same damn time "It's ironic you talk jail time, But you ain't never seen no central booking (yeah) It's ironic you hang with a n***a that beat women And have the nerve to call yourself "Girl Pusher" Wow! You ain't real, I'm gonna show you how I really feel - JPEGMAFIA 'baby im bleeding'

Sun in the Twelfth - Lonely introspective dreamy creative types. Is what you could say if you wanna sum them up. But there is much more to them, but they are so afraid of letting anyone in because they are so sensitive. Their empathy and ability to look at things from different perspectives is what sets them apart, and they want to be set apart, because they feel alone, and don't wanna pretend they your friend if they ain't. They are extremely creative to a fault, and a lot of people would rather make fun of their works then celebrate how special it is. Until it is widely acknowledged how gifted they are, then everyone will switch up around them. But they will never forget who said what, because they above the whats; aint got time for someone who thought they were just a what "'Cause I'm out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own, I told you I was out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own,I fell down to Earth, From a hundred miles away and somehow I still make it work, But it's overrated and somehow played out" - Oliver Tree 'alien boy'

#sun in the houses #astrology #astrology blog #astrology observations #astrology placements #astro community #astrology notes #house placements #astrology houses

[obey-me-disaster]

A/N: I'm reposting this cause the tags didn't work the first time <3

Demon brothers x gn!MC

Demon brothers x MC that info-dumps about their familiars

Lucifer

Whenever he feels like the two of you haven't spent enough time together due to his work, he invites you into his office to hang out. He enjoys hearing you talk excitedly about your passions while he does paperwork.

He can't say he has too much of an interest in peacocks, but he loves hearing you talk about the things you love, so he'll let you talk until you've had your fill.

"So peacocks apparently peacocks feathers are covered in tiny crystal-like structures that reflect different wavelengths of light depending on how they're spaced."

"Also, since only male peacocks have the large train of feathers, do you think it played a role in them being your familiars? Since you're the avatar of pride and all of that."

"That's quite the theory you've got there, but I'm afraid I don't know how true it actually is."

"Still, I would love to hear more facts that you have, I can see from the expression on your face that you're dying to do so"

"And before you ask, yes, my feathers have the crystal-like structures, you can have a closer look if you would like"

His ego does grow quite a bit every time you go into one or your rants since he can tell you're talking so much about peacock cause they are his familiars.

He will probably buy you something peacock inspired to give you during one of your info-dumps.

God forbid you start gushing about his familiars in front of Diavolo. The prince will see it as a way to talk even more about Lucifer, and the former isn't sure how much he can deal with that.

Mammon

He has a pretty good base knowledge about crows. Out of all of his brothers, he probably works with his familiars the most. It's canon that he literally uses them to spy on people and gather information.

Still, there are a lot of things he might not know. And even if he knew, he would die before telling you to stop talking.

"Your crows are so cute, did you know that they are considered some of the world's smartest birds?"

"Of course they are! They're the Great Mammon's familiars after all"

"They are also known to gossip with their peers and hold grudges"

"I am well aware of that fact, more often than not they tell me the latest gossip in Devildom"

He would let you hang out with his crows in order to learn more about them.

I also have the headcanon that he can talk with them, so he would literally be a translator for you and the crows

"Feel free to ask them anything, I will translate whatever they say!"

Is pretty smug about the fact that you are so interested in his familiars, even so when you interact with them. He might even give you some accessories made out of his familiars' feathers(of course, feathers that have fallen on their own)

Leviathan

Bold of you to assume he doesn't know already everything there is about snakes already, he is literally one!

"Levi, did you know that snakes can smell with their tongues and a good amount of them have shit eyesight?"

"Henry the 1st used to have a bad eyesight!! They also don't really stop growing. This is more obvious with Devildom snakes tho"

He would honestly be really touched by your eagerness to learn and tell him about snakes since he is pretty much one. He sees it as you being interested in him on a whole new level and gets really excited when you info-dump about them.

Leviathan, on the verge of crying internally "They actually care about me!"

NB! Levi would actually really appreciate it tho. His demon form is that of a snake and he also got a pet snake, so any new info is more than welcome. Especially about how to deal with shedding.

"MC, you've got to help me! You know a lot about snakes, so could you tell me why my tail feels so itchy???"

Satan

Your info-dump session about unicorns is pretty much a 'is it true that they actually do that??' kind of thing

He still touched about you wanting to learn more about his familiars so he is always willing to answear any and all of your questions. He might even take you to see some of them.

"Is it true that unicorns can use magic with their horn?"

"Saying they can cast magic is far stretched. They have some abilities specific to their kind that can be used with or without the horn."

Cats on the other hand? Doesn't matter if he already know whatever fact you want to tell him, he is always more than happy to discuss about them.

Hell, he might be the one info-dumping about cats before you get the chance to do so.

"Did you know that cats can have up to 100 different vocalizations? Dogs only have like 10"

"They are also believed to be the only mammal who doesn't taste sweetness, which I find unfortunate. Still, they truly are amazing creatures"

More often than not Solomon is dragged in the conversations too due to the 'Cat' group chat that three of you have. Not like he minds, he loves cats too.

Asmodeus

He lets you info-dump about scorpions while he does your hair/nails/helps you with you skin care.

"Is you info-dumping about my familiars your way of telling me that you love me~"

Your self care sessions are also info-dump sessions, so you kill two birds with one stone.

"Did you know that scorpions are capable of dissolving their pray from the inside out. They also glow under ultraviolet light??"

"It's only natural that my familiars would be able to do this, they are my familiars after all ♡. Maybe I should use some make up the glows in the dark"

Since you've started to info-dump about his familiars to him, his outfits/nails/accessories have started to have a scorpion motif to them quite often

He also tells you one of the facts you've told him before while he shows off his scorpion inspired accesories. It's his way of showing that he listens to your rants.

"Scorpions can do that, can't they? Remember when you told me this last night?"

Beelzebub

He doesn't really know a lot about his familiars but he has an odd fondness about them. He can't really bring himself to kill them, tho flies tend to leave him alone anyway.

He thinks is really sweet that you know so much about those little guys, so he is always happy to sit and listen to you.

If you feel like info-dumping about flies, feel free to do it whenever you like. He is raiding the fridge? You can help him carry some of the food while you tell him more about his familiars. He is working out? He can hear loud and clear. He might not be the most responsive during some of those moments but he is always listening to you.

He is aware that out of all of his brothers, his familiar is not the cutest or the coolest one, so when you start talking about it, he can't help but feel really loved.

"Beel, did you know that flies can taste food using their feet?"

"It would be pretty usefull to know how food would taste just by touching, not like I would care if the food would taste bad, I would still eat it"

"Also, due to their eyes being compound they can also see behind their back. They actually have a 360° field of view"

"I also have that in my demon form, it came in handy a lot of times"

"YOU HAVE WHAT?!"

Belphegor

Lying on the attic bed while facing the ceiling "Shouldn't your familiar be a bull instead of a cow, since you're a guy and all of that?"

"Just shut up and cuddle me.."

While he thinks cows look comfy enough to take a nap, he does not care about them. But he care about you, so he is more than willing to cuddle up with you while you info-dump.

"Cows are actually pretty nice, they can spend about 10 hours a day lying down and they can also sleep while standing...are you even listening to me...?"

Belphegor, looking on the verge of falling asleep "hmm? Yeah I'm listening.."

Despite looking like he is one second from falling asleep or even downright sleeping, he actually listens to you. He can pay attention to things even in his sleep, how do you think he has really high grades at RAD? so he is listening to all of the cow facts you're telling him.

Anytime you doubt that he has been listening, he will tell you a fact that you've told him in the past to show that he was in fact listening.

"Cows can sleep while standing, right? You're the one who told me, so you should know. Now get closer, I want to use your lap as a pillow."

If you dare to do any kind of jokes about him being a cowboy, he will kick out of the bed.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer headcanons #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me mammon headcanons #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan headcanons #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me satan headcanons #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus headcanons #obey me asmodeus x mc #obey me beelzebub headcanons #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor headcanons #obey me belphegor x mc

[mxqdii]

hey! i love love your work, and i was wondering if i could request a chris sturniolo x fem!reader?

maybe reader is also a well known influencer, or an actress or something of the sort, and there’s rumours about her and chris being together that they haven’t really confirmed?

but they are dating and she’s on live one day and he calls her like an intimate pet name, or just overall says something that shows they are in fact together and like the comments on the live just go crazy and stuff and shes like telling chris she’s on live or whatver

im so sorry if this doesnt make sense 🙏🙏

stop bc i requested pretty much this same thing to another author (on wattpad) a few months back, so when i read this request it was such an "i made it" moment (i love u sm, you're just like me fr fr)

baby - c.s

pairings: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris accidentally calls reader 'baby' while she's on live, revealing to the whole world that they're dating/

warning(s): fluff, reader calling chris bro 😔

not proofread

i'm sitting on the couch, watching tv, bored out of my mind.

then an idea hits me, i could go on live!

i used to go live a lot with the triplets, but only on their account, so it would be fun to go live on mine.

i open instagram and click the live button, watching the stream fill with thousands of people

"holy shit that's a lot of people" i say with a nervous laugh

"uhh i guess i'll answer any questions anyone has! so feel free to ask anything!" i add, smiling

i read through the comments, lots of them asking where the triplets are

i can't help but notice seeing a few asking if me and chris are dating.

fortunately, those allegations are true! but we've decided to keep it quiet for, just for now.

still, there’s only so much one can hide from the public

and although me and chris haven't said anything, i think everybody knows anyway.

people can see our glances, our gestures, how close we are, it's all pretty obvious.

i answer a few questions like my favorite singer, when my next video is coming out, podcast stuff with the triplets, and just some other various topics.

suddenly i hear the door unlock, looking over at it, but not really caring.

maybe i can get whichever triplet that is to join my live.

chris walks in and i smile in his direction

"hey baby" he says and my expression immediately drops.

i look at him, PALE.

(absolutely terrified to look back at the screen)

"what?" he says, walking closer, i turn my head to the screen, anticipating my death.

i let out a sigh of relief seeing the comments

@ssturniolo BABY???

@strniolo AWWWWWWWW

@lvrsparadise GOODBYE I LOVE THEM.

@ellieswifie this is such a chris and y/n mistake 😭

@lavieenvalentina i'm so happy for them i'll cry

(shoutout to everyone tagged ILY<;3)

as i'm reading the comments, i smile, chris hovering over me reading them too

suddenly he hugs me from behind, squeezing me tight

"chris!" i say laughing

"let me go bro" i whine

"you did not just call me bro" he says, immediately stopping

his death glare makes me laugh

"consider it payback for you calling me baby on live" i say laughing

(him clearly not amused)

"okay fine fine im sorry, guys it's all okay he's not my bro please let me redeem myself" i say joking on the last part

me and chris stay on live for another 30 minutes, answering questions about how we got together and just stuff about our relationship.

"bye guys we love you!!" i say, ending the live

i close out of insta, putting my phone down with an exhausted sigh

"so?" i mumble, anticipating chris's response

"so? so nothing" he say's with a smile and i face palm

"chris! we just told like, the world that we're dating" i laugh

"yeah, and i'm happy about it, like honestly i can't think of a better way it could've happened" he says

we both look at eachother and burst out laughing

"we're a little interesting thats for sure" i say

"i can't believe we tell the world we're dating ON ACCIDENT and then you start calling me bro" chris says, making me laugh harder

"i was nervous! im sorry!" i yell with my hands up in defense

"yeah yeah, it's fine" he says, wrapping his arms around me

"bro" he adds on

"chris i swear to god-"

TAGLIST:

@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #fluff #matt sturniolo headcannons #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #madispeaks!

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

thinking about harrow and gideon as teeny little children.

like. the adults around them were never going to let them be friends, right? harrow's parents and crux were never going to put up with that. but i'll bet there was a moment, when they were small children, when they could've turned it around and just been friends. but of course they weren't allowed to.

like, here's the thing about toddlers: they kinda suck sometimes. all of them do, and it's usually not their fault. they don't have a developed sense of empathy or consequences yet, and they can't regulate their emotions very well. they're selfish and egocentric and short-sighted. they don't fully grasp concepts like sharing or delayed gratification. they have to be taught these things. it's the responsibility of the adults around them to help them practice and understand. and if they don't...well.

imagine you're tiny harrow. and you realize, one day, that if tiny gideon has something you want, then you're allowed to just take it and nobody cares. meanwhile, all of your things are sacred and protected by the adults around you. also, you're curious. you're learning about people and feelings and cause and effect. and so you start to pick on her, experimentally, as is natural for kids around that age. and you quickly come to understand that you can do whatever you want to her, and nobody will stop you. but if she retaliates, she gets in trouble. you would have to be one hell of an emotionally advanced toddler not to become a fucking terror to live with.

and that's not even mentioning how the adults around them treated gideon. harrow's primary caretaker and role model was fucking crux for jod's sake. and little kids love to copy behaviors and play and help even more than they love to steal. if the adults around you treat one particular person like shit, then you will inevitably learn to do the same.

also, gideon saying that baby harrow saw her as, quote, "an object of tormentable fascination" is weirdly heartbreaking to me? like yeah, harrow was probably The Worst as a little kid, for reasons already explored. but also, there was only one other child in her life. one other child, who was just close enough to her age to identify with, but also slightly older than her, by just enough months to be cool. i'll fucking bet harrow was obsessed with her. they were both lonely and bored and they had never been taught how to make friends or be nice to people. i'll bet they learned to fight like that. harrow following her around, just trying to get her attention, not knowing how else to do it.

the fact that griddle is very obviously babytalk too...it just fuckin gets me. harrow has been trying to say gideon's name since before she could properly form the syllables. she said gid-oh. what do you wanna bet it was one of the first words she tried to figure out how to say.

obviously, none of this justifies what came next. this isn't a harrowhark apologetics post. i'm not trying to like...woobify her or something. none of this emotional rambling about her toddlerhood absolves her of responsibility for shit she did as a teenager. but still. god i get emotional when i think about harrow and gideon as little kids. they were so lonely and they had no positive role models and they were completely fucked over by the adults around them and i am going to cry.

#you ever accidentally write an essay because you thought about your favorite characters as toddlers and it made you sad #yeah me neither #griddlehark #harrow nonagesimus #gideon nav #the locked tomb #tlt #my post

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

night! uh, can u do sum for me like, it would be very very cool from you. can you do like jason x apollo reader that she’s like a ray of sunshine with absolutely anyone and he’s like so in love but she doesn’t know until he wins capture the flag/war games (it depends on wich camp they’ll be) and he’s like “this win is for y/n” and she’s like “oh my father does he like me back?” pls pls??

oh and thank you thank you thank you for writing so well and about jason (he’s so perfect but so underrated i’m crying.) thanks again, i luv ur writing!

⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of apollo! reader hcs

content: jason grace x daughter of apollo! reader hcs warning: none that i can think of???? author's note: this is for the THREE people that all asked for jason grace x daughter of apollo. it was really scary yall like coordinated that shit bc they all came in at the same time- also...why does apollo reader ALWAYS kick my ass like this was such a bitch to write and like...why???? stupid fucking god of poetry, suck a dick bro fr let me write in peace. im already dyslexic, what more could you want from me??

jason grace had got the hots for the sun's daughter

he couldn't help it

she was just so sweet from the moment he'd met her

he'd been helping leo with something in bunker nine

one second he was holding up sheet metal, the next it was crashing down against his already sensitive nogin

leo rapidly took the son of jupiter to the infirmary, where jason met you

"oh, jeez. another head condition, mr. grace?? giving that brain a run for it's money," you mused with a beaming smile and a soft wink

and jason was a goner

you weren't even a healer, you just liked to make the patients feel better with jokes or legit just your bubbly personality

from that moment on, jason used every excuse to be near you as much as he could

and everyone could tell what was going on with the golden boy

except, naturally, you

which frustrated jason to no end

"do you wanna come hang out in my cabin?" he offered, fighting off his blush mentally

"we always hang out in your cabin, silly," you replied with a winkle of your nose before linking your arm with jason and dragging him off, leaving him to sigh behind your back

"i- i like that shirt on you, y/n. looks really, really good," he tried again in the middle of archery practice, completely missing a shot to tell you that.

"thanks!! it's kayla's but she let me borrow it for today," you hummed, shooting a perfect bullseye shot without any effort, beaming a smile at the boy, who deflated at your lack of flirty response.

then, jason got a brilliant idea when he was talking to percy about capture the flag

he was gonna win, hopefully single handedly, and then do some grand romantic gesture and ask you on a date

should be easy for a child of the big three

except for the fact that his group was against the nike cabin, who were foaming at the mouth for a win

he prayed the gods, more specifically aphrodite, were on his side

the day finally came and jason was completely in the zone, never wanting to win something more in his entire life

well, maybe your heart but still

from the moment the conch shell blew, he was a man on a mission

people began parting out of his way, not wanting to get caught up in that mess

which made it easier to find the flag, some of the demeter kids even pointing him in the right direction

once he found it, he just dropped his sword and sprinted it over the river

bro was fast as lightening

and i think some people were kung fu fighting???

(that made me gag, i apologize-)

(could i delete it?? yes. but if i have to suffer the cringe, so do you.)

ANYWAYS, MOVING ON

jason and his team were dubbed the winners, the flag changing to match cabin one and laurels were placed on his head

bro was pracing around like a show pony, searching the crowd for you

"way to go, jason! congrats, but we're so getting you next time!" you giggled, beaming up at the blonde boy, who couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from you

"well, as far as prizes go, id say these laurels are pretty crappy," jason hummed, removing the crown of golden leaves from his head and inspecting it.

just like he practice in the mirror every morning leading up to this day, same with his words.

this is scripted and being spontaneous wasn't exactly the son of jupiter's strong suit

especially not around pretty girls

"do you guys getting better prizes at new rome or-?" you questioned and you would have said more but then jason gently placed the laurels on your head, smiling as you looked up at them in confusion.

"there, that's a much better prize," he smiled, which only widened as you blushed, ducking your head and causing the laurels to slip slightly

"that's- that's very sweet, jason," you muttered, rocking on your heels as you looked away from him.

the boy you were completely enamored with was telling you he thought you were a prize when you were certain he didn't even like you

like bro wtf???

"well, a sweet girl like you deserves very sweet," he added, enjoying the blush that was settling over your cheeks, "you wanna, maybe, go on a picnic with me?"

"YES- er, yeah, uh, that sounds great. totally, yes, im down," you reply, trying to desperately recover from your far to eager response.

"sounds like a date," jason mused, his smile unstoppable around the sunshine girl.

"more war spoils for the victor?" you teased, pushing the laurels pointly up on your head.

"if you were my war spoils, i'd never lose another fight."

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #all my love ౨ৎ

[goldengalore]

Scandal

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry faces the biggest scandal of his career when a popular influencer claims that the singer forcefully entered his home and attacked him. Y/N sets on a mission to clear Harry’s name.

Word count: 11.4k

Warnings: anxiety, physical violence, mentions of domestic violence, nonconsensual kiss, cheating, toxic masculinity, angst, smut (a bit of domrry and subrry)

A/N: Lots of protective!harry in this one. Pay attention to the warnings. Characters make some serious (false) accusations towards H. If anything makes you uncomfortable, click away! Otherwise, enjoy this angsty fic :)

***

Y/N doesn’t like parties.

Even when she was a little girl and her parents would invite all their extended family over to celebrate her birthday, her tiny self would cry and complain until one of her parents scolded her to shut her up. As she grew older, she developed methods of alleviating the discomfort brought on by social events—the main one involving alcohol.

Calling her an alcoholic would be inaccurate because the only time she ever really drinks is during social situations. In fact, she can go for weeks and months without drinking if she doesn’t have to attend a social event. Still, she knows it’s not healthy nor very effective. All it does is reinforce her belief that she can’t socialize without using alcohol as a crutch, worsening her anxiety in the long run.

Recently, she has decided to start overcoming this habit by completely avoiding alcohol before and during social situations. At first, she wanted to limit herself to one drink, but she knows that the suppressing effect on her overactive nervous system will be enough to lure her into having another, then another… then another.

Tonight is her first chance to put her new rule into practice. It’s her best friend Rosie’s birthday. Her fiance, Colin, threw her a surprise party at his house. Now, Y/N may despise parties, especially the big, extravagant ones that Colin likes to throw, but she is willing to sacrifice a part of her sanity for the people she loves, like Rosie.

Because they’re in LA and Colin is an influencer, most of the people he invited are also influencers of some sort. Y/N warned Harry about this, but he still chose to come along, much to her relief. Surprisingly, aside from a few people asking for a picture with him, he has managed to keep a low profile. He also knows about Y/N’s new rule for herself and has agreed to help her abide by it, even going as far as not drinking himself, though she told him that wasn’t necessary.

Now, while they’re conversing with a small group of people—or at least Harry converses while Y/N mostly just listens and nods and tries not to think about how badly she wants to go home—someone offers Harry a drink and she notices him hesitate for the briefest second before saying no.

“H, you can have a drink,” she tells him in his ear a minute later. “Seriously, I don’t mind. I promise you’ll still be the best boyfriend in the world by the end of the night.”

He smirks. “I’m going to need that on a mug or a t-shirt or something, you know, just so I don’t forget.”

“Fine, you’re getting that for Christmas this year, but that’s all you’re getting.”

He places a hand on his chest. “I would gladly accept that as my only gift.”

She rolls her eyes at his dramatics, smiling all the while.

“All right, I’ll grab a drink then, if you insist,” he says.

“Good. I’m going to use the washroom. Meet you back here in five?”

“Deal.”

They both go their separate ways—Harry to the bar and Y/N to the washroom. When she finds it, she opens the door and instantly regrets not knocking first. Next to the toilet is a girl kneeling on the floor with a guy’s dick in her mouth. And not just any girl, but a well-known Instagram model whose face Y/N has seen many times before.

“Shit, sorry! Sorry!” Y/N blurts out, quickly pulling the door shut. It’s only after the door closes that her brain registers who the guy was. He had his back to her, but the dirty blonde hair messily styled around his head gave him away.

It was Colin. Rosie’s Colin.

At first, she stays frozen in place, too shocked to move, but then she sees the doorknob twisting from the other side and suddenly snaps out of it. Her legs start taking her away from the washroom.

“Y/N!” she hears Colin shout from behind her.

She walks faster, pushing through the crowds of people, with no plan for where she’s headed. Eventually, she ends up out in the backyard by Colin’s pool, thinking she must have lost him somewhere in the crowd. But then the glass door slides opens and out comes Colin. He closes the door before walking over to her. The light from the pool reflects off his pale face. His blue eyes are wide and frantic.

“Look,” he starts, “what you saw back there, it wasn’t— We weren’t— It wasn’t—” He pauses before starting again, “She’s just a friend.”

She scoffs at his lame defense. “Do all your friends give you blowjobs?”

“She wasn’t giving me a blowjob.”

“Oh, so your dick just fell into her mouth by accident, is that it? How stupid do you think I am, Colin?”

In the time she has known him—which hasn’t been for very long, since he and Rosie only started dating eight months ago and got engaged three months into their relationship—she always got the impression that he views her as a naive little girl. People often make assumptions about Y/N based on her quiet, reserved nature, like that she is uptight or that she knows nothing about sex or the world. It never fails to annoy her.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” he says slowly, patronizingly, which only contradicts his statement. “You just… You think you saw something you didn’t see.”

Her eyes narrow. “That sentence doesn’t even make sense.”

She can see him struggling to find more ways to gaslight her. When he realizes he can’t, he just says, “You can’t tell Rosie.”

She doesn’t reply, doesn’t feel the need to. And Colin clearly doesn’t like that. He begins walking towards her, eyes darkening dangerously. She takes a few steps backward, thinking he’ll stop, but he doesn’t, not until she’s right at the edge of the pool with no more room to move back. He looms over her, all six feet of him.

“Did you hear me, Y/N?” he asks, his icy gaze boring into her.

She’s not sure where her boldness comes from in that moment, but all she says in response is, “Fuck you.”

Suddenly, he grips the back of her neck with both hands and smashes his lips against hers forcefully, shoving his tongue into her mouth. Y/N recoils so hard that she would have fallen back into the water if his hand wasn’t gripping her neck so tightly, holding her against him. She lifts her right foot off the ground and swings her leg back before driving the toe of her boot into his shin as hard as possible.

He grunts in pain and releases her, shouting, “Stupid bitch!”

She sidesteps him so that she’s no longer balancing on the edge of the pool and vigorously rubs her mouth with the back of her hand.

Clutching his shin, he pins her with a menacing glare. “You’re not going to say a word to Rosie,” he says between gritted teeth. Then he places his foot on the ground and limps back into the house.

Y/N doesn’t notice she’s shaking until he’s gone. She stays outside a little while longer to gather herself and suppress the nauseating feeling induced by having Colin’s lips on hers. Then she heads back inside to find Harry.

He has a drink in his hand now, and he’s talking to a couple of regular, non-influencer-looking people. As he lifts up his arm, she snuggles into his side, wrapping her arm around his back, resolving to stay there for the remainder of the night.

She will tell him what happened. Just not now. Not with Colin watching her from across the room with Rosie under his own arm, as if he didn’t just cheat on the poor girl and then proceed to kiss her best friend.

She will also tell Rosie what happened. Colin can try to intimidate her into silence, but it won’t work. Rosie will find out. Y/N will make sure of it. She just won’t unleash the devastating news on Rosie’s birthday with all these influencers surrounding them, eagerly awaiting some drama to go down so they can use it as “content.”

The party is nowhere close to done when Y/N and Harry decide to head home, but they’re both spent and ready to crawl into bed. They find Rosie to say their goodbyes, and Y/N tries to rush the process before Colin can show up.

“Happy birthday, girlie,” she says while giving Rosie a tight hug—tighter than usual after what she discovered tonight. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Thanks for everything.”

Unfortunately, right as the two friends are pulling out of their embrace, Colin appears at Rosie’s side.

“Colin told me that you helped plan this whole thing,” says Rosie.

“Yeah, Y/N was great. Couldn’t have pulled it off without her,” Colin tells her. Then he looks at Y/N. “Thanks for keeping it a secret from this one.” He points his thumb at Rosie, laughing easily, but the threat behind his eyes as he stares at Y/N is unmistakable.

She just gives him a tight smile, resisting the urge to slap the cocky grin right off his face. Then she says to Harry, “Let’s go.”

“Thanks for having u—” Harry begins to say to Colin and Rosie, but Y/N grabs his arm and starts dragging him away before he can finish his polite farewell.

Once they’re outside, she lets go of his arm and he gives her a puzzled look.

“What was that about?” he asks as they walk to his car.

“What?”

“Seemed like you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.”

“Oh, you know how I feel about parties.” She leaves it at that for now, and luckily, he doesn’t press any further.

He’s had a couple drinks, so Y/N drives them home. As soon as they enter Harry’s warm, empty house, she says, “H, I need to tell you something.”

“Hold that thought, lovie.” He holds up his index finger. “I really need a wee.”

He dashes off to the bathroom by the stairs. Meanwhile, Y/N heads to the living room and flops down on the couch, feeling exhaustion take over her after what transpired tonight. Just as she’s thinking about how she’s going to explain everything to Harry and how he’ll react, she hears the bathroom door open.

Harry joins her on the couch and says, “Right, what did you need to tell me?”

She takes a deep breath. “Something happened at the party tonight.”

“Okay…” He swipes his hair back, gazing at her intently.

“I caught Colin cheating on Rosie with another girl.”

He raises his brows, his expression growing serious.

“After I saw it happen, I walked away and Colin followed me out to the backyard. He tried denying it, but I obviously wasn’t falling for it, so then he said I can’t tell Rosie and he…” She pauses, hesitates. The memory of the repulsive kiss makes her stomach turn again. “He grabbed me by the neck and kissed me—”

“He what?” Harry’s brows climb even higher.

“—and I kicked him in the shin and then he left. I honestly think the kiss was just him trying to make me feel small and intimidate me into not telling Rosie.”

Harry’s usual easygoing demeanour has completely evaporated. His hands curl into fists on his thighs. His jaw clenches and unclenches, as his hard gaze fixates on the coffee table in front of them.

“That piece of shit,” he mutters. “That fucking piece of shit.” He closes his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Y/N, I’m going to—”

“H,” she says, placing her small hand over one of his fists, “I know you’re pissed off right now, but I need you to help me figure something out here.”

He looks at her, eyes softening. His fist opens and turns to grasp her hand. “Of course, whatever you need.”

“I need to tell Rosie what happened. I’m going to do it tomorrow. I’m going to tell her what I saw in the bathroom, but I just don’t know if I should mention the part about him kissing me. She’ll already be devastated to hear that he cheated, and I feel like I’d be adding unnecessary pain by mentioning that. What would you do if you were me?”

“I would tell her everything,” he replies. “Every detail. She deserves to know exactly how much of a prick he is.”

That’s exactly what she expected him to say. Nodding, she says, “Okay. Thank you.”

His anger seems to return after that. He rubs his free hand over his jaw, shaking his head. “It’s awful, what he did to you. And Rosie. Neither of you deserve that.”

She feels so fortunate to have him in that moment. If he wasn’t at the party tonight, she’s not sure what she would have done. Surely, she would have managed one way or another, but knowing that Harry was in the house, even when Colin was cornering her out by the pool, gave her a boost of courage—something she only realized later when she found her way back to him.

Now, she scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his torso, squeezing him tightly. He squeezes her back.

“Can we go to bed? I’m exhausted,” she tells him.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

***

The following day, when Y/N informs Rosie of Colin’s infidelity, she breaks down into tears before Y/N has even finished explaining what she saw in the bathroom. Her best friend seems so distraught, sobbing and barely forming coherent sentences, that she decides not to follow Harry’s advice about mentioning the kiss.

Before Colin came along, Rosie was always an intelligent, rational human being, the type to think long and hard before making any major decisions. When he appeared in her life, it was like she lost all sense of logic and reason within a matter of weeks of knowing him. Things moved so rapidly between the couple. Y/N thought Rosie was joking when, three months into their relationship, she revealed that Colin had proposed to her and that she had said yes.

Y/N could never understand the hold that this guy had on her friend, but for the most part, it seemed harmless. Until now. Watching someone she cares so deeply about fall apart right before her eyes drives a sword through her heart.

She offers to spend the day with Rosie at her apartment, suggesting that they binge-watch some trashy reality show while munching on their favourite comfort foods, but Rosie says she needs some time alone to process everything. Respecting her wishes, Y/N reminds her that she can call anytime she needs to talk, then heads home.

That night, she’s sitting in bed with Harry, both of them immersed in their own books—him, a romance novel and her, a mystery novel—when her phone buzzes with an incoming call from Rosie.

“Hey, Ros—”

“What the fuck, Y/N?”

Rosie’s hostile greeting makes her pull the phone away from her ear for a second.

“You lied to me.”

“I— What?” Y/N’s uneasy tone draws Harry’s attention away from his novel.

“Colin told me you kissed him.”

Her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach. Immediate regret settles in at not telling Rosie about the kiss. She played right into Colin’s hands. “That’s not what happened, Rosie.”

“Oh, really?” She hears Rosie let out an unamused laugh. Then she hears his voice in the background, whispering something to Rosie. Y/N’s hand digs into the bedsheets, scrunching them between her fingers. Harry reaches for her hand and pulls it into his lap.

“He kissed me,” she states. “He’s just telling you it was the other way around to cover his ass after cheating on you.”

“He never denied cheating on me. He admitted to it.”

Y/N is genuinely taken aback by this, unsure how to respond.

“He said you walked in on him in the bathroom and then you walked away. When he found you later and tried to explain himself, you came onto him and told him that if he fucked you, you wouldn’t tell me that he cheated.”

She scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “And you believe that? C’mon, Ro, you are so much smarter than this.”

Once again, her ears pick up on Colin mumbling something to Rosie.

“What lies is he feeding you now?” she asks.

“He thinks we should talk in person,” says Rosie. “All three of us. I agree. I’m at his place right now. Come over and let’s hash this out.”

She closes her eyes. “Rosie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What are you so scared of, Y/N?” Colin says into the speaker now, all loud and smug and condescending.

She feels Harry’s hand squeeze hers now.

“I’m giving you a chance to explain your side of the story,” says Colin. “And maybe even apologize.”

She huffs, “Apologize?”

“For trying to get between me and Rosie. She forgave me. Maybe she’ll forgive you too. But that won’t happen if you don’t come here and talk to us.”

Y/N’s blood is boiling. How could Rosie forgive him? It makes no sense. Yet again, she finds herself baffled by Colin’s hypnotic spell on her best friend. Except this time, she is also concerned for Rosie’s safety. Because if he could persuade her to forgive him for cheating, God knows what else he can make her do with the right amount of manipulation and coercion.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll come.”

“Good girl, Y/N,” says Colin.

She almost hurls. And she knows Harry heard that too from the way his hand tightens around hers. She hangs up.

Before she can say anything, Harry states, “I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t know if—”

“It’s not up for discussion, Y/N. I already know I can’t convince you to not go, so I’m going with you. That’s it.”

“Fine.” She’s too tired to argue, and if she’s honest with herself, she’s relieved that he’s coming. Colin is bigger than her and has proven that he has no respect for her boundaries. If she has to swallow her pride and admit that she needs her boyfriend there to protect her just in case, then so be it.

Harry softens when he realizes how overbearing his words sounded. “I won’t do anything, I swear,” he reassures her. “I’m just going to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

She nods. “Okay.”

On the drive to Colin’s house, Y/N gives Harry a rundown of the fabricated story that Colin has planted in Rosie’s head. She also mentions that she no longer feels safe leaving Rosie with Colin.

The house looks desolate tonight, a stark contrast to the previous night when it was filled to the brim with people and music and drugs and alcohol.

Rosie is the one who opens the door for them. Her puffy, bloodshot eyes convey that she hasn’t stopped crying today. Her dark brown hair falls in messy waves around her shoulders. She seems surprised to see Harry, but amidst the surprise, Y/N detects a hint of relief as well. The same relief that Y/N felt when Harry said he was coming with her.

Rosie leads them into the kitchen where Colin is slouched in a chair at the end of the dining table, his hand wrapped around an open bottle of whiskey on the table. A sickening smirk begins to form on his face when he sees Y/N, but it falters when his gaze falls on Harry.

“Why’s he here?” he says, turning his chin up at Harry.

“It’s fine. He can stay,” says Rosie. She sits on a chair that’s already pulled out from under the table, angled towards Colin.

Y/N grabs another chair and drags it far away from the table to maintain a fair distance from Colin. Meanwhile, Harry just leans against a wall off to the side, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. He’s dressed in a blue Adidas jacket and black gym shorts that he threw on before coming here. A hair clip keeps his curls up and away from his face.

“Harry, you wanna sit?” asks Rosie.

“I’m good, thanks.”

The group stares at each other. Y/N at Rosie. Colin at Y/N. Harry at Colin.

After a prolonged silence, Rosie finally says, “Okay, who wants to start?”

“Y/N can start,” Colin answers immediately.

There’s no doubt in her mind that this is merely a tactic to convince Rosie that he has nothing to hide and that Y/N is the one who should be explaining herself.

She clears her throat and shifts in her seat, trying not to let Colin’s annoyingly persistent gaze get to her. “Okay… Well, Rosie, like I said on the phone, I never kissed Colin. He kissed me and I pushed him away and he—”

“Why didn’t you mention any of this earlier?” Rosie interjects. “When you were at my apartment this morning and you told me that he cheated, why didn’t you mention the kiss?”

“You were so upset. I didn’t want to make it worse. I should’ve told you and I regret that I didn’t, but honestly, I just didn’t want to hurt you even more.”

“How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”

Y/N frowns at her. “Because we’re best friends? And we have been for years? Way longer than you’ve known him.” She glances at Colin.

“He told me the truth. The whole truth. Something I would’ve expected my so-called best friend to do.”

Y/N just sighs and leans back in her chair, silent now as her mind grasps for some way, any way to convince her friend that Colin is the liar here.

Rosie turns to Harry now. “Did you know about this?”

He nods. “Y/N told me everything when we got home last night.” He pauses before adding sincerely, “She’s telling the truth, Rosie.”

“You weren’t even there when it happened. How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know her. And you know her. And we both know she’s not like that. You can call me biased, but it’s very clear to me which of these stories is the more plausible one.”

Y/N notices a subtle shift in Rosie’s expression, as if Harry’s words have actually made her see things from a different perspective. While she’s glad that at least Harry can get through to her friend, the fact that Rosie is quicker to trust Colin or Harry over her is maddening. She and Rosie have had several conversations over the years about people not believing women unless a man backs them up. It’s rather hypocritical of her to be doing the very thing she claims to be against.

Colin, who was previously slumped in his chair with a look of indifference, sits up when he realizes that he might be losing Rosie.

“What are you even doing here, man?” he asks Harry. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“I disagree.” Harry’s relaxed disposition seems to irk Colin even more. “Oh, and you should know,” continues Harry, “that neither of these women feel safe being alone around you, which says a lot about the piece of shit you are.”

“I never said I don’t feel safe around him,” Rosie argues unconvincingly.

“You don’t need to. It’s pretty obvious. And Y/N said—”

“You should really stop believing everything your whore of a girlfriend tells you,” Colin interjects.

A tense moment of silence hangs in the air before Harry pushes himself off the wall and strides over to Colin.

“Harry,” says Y/N in a warning tone, her heart speeding up as she watches Colin rise to his feet. The two men are face-to-face with only a few inches of space between them. Colin is as tall as Harry but with considerably less muscle on his body. However, that doesn’t eliminate Y/N’s concerns about her boyfriend getting hurt. “Harry,” she says again, pleadingly this time.

“Don’t worry, love. I’m not going to do anything,” he tells her, still sounding calm as ever. The only indication that Colin’s words have gotten to him is in his fists, which are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles have lost colour.

“Yeah, he’s not,” says Colin, the smugness returning. “He doesn’t want to ruin his nice guy image. Isn’t that right, Styles?”

Harry lets out a brief, unamused laugh through his nose, then steps back, turning around to go back over to the wall. As he’s walking away, Colin says, “You know, now that I think about it, I should’ve just fucked your girlfriend when I had the chance. Show her what it’s like to be fucked by a real man.”

Now that Harry is turned away from Colin, Y/N can see his entire facial expression, including the rage that swims beneath the tranquil surface. His chest rises and falls with deep, controlled breaths. His eyes find Y/N’s.

“We’re leaving,” he states firmly. “Now.”

“What are you so scared of, Styles?” Colin goads him, the same way he did to Y/N over the phone. “Worried you’re gonna end up in the news for socking me? ‘Mr. Treat People With Kindness loses it on innocent civilian.’” He cackles at his own dumb joke.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose, his patience visibly diminishing.

Y/N stands and turns to Rosie. “You’re coming with us.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

Losing her composure, Y/N presses her hands against the sides of her head, which is pounding at this point. “Oh my God, Rosie! What kind of hold does this guy have on you?!”

“I just want to talk to him.” She rises to her feet too.

“Why? So he can tell you more lies and manipulate you—”

“Oh, don’t act so fucking righteous, Y/N! Let’s not forget that you lied too!”

“I was trying to protect you! I’m not going to apologize for—”

“Colin, stop!” Rosie’s attention has shifted to the guys, who are now going at each other. Or at least, Colin is going at Harry with his fists, but Harry blocks each and every blow either with his arms or by ducking out of the way completely.

“C’mon, hit me!” Colin shouts desperately, swinging and missing, then swinging and missing again. “Don’t be a fucking pussy! Hit me! What are you waiting for?!”

At the next swing, Harry grabs Colin’s arm and twists it behind his back, spinning him around, then kicking the backs of his knees to make them buckle. Colin collapses face-first onto the hardwood floor. Harry falls on top of him, still twisting Colin’s arm behind his back at a painful angle while pressing his head down into the floor with his other hand.

Colin cries out in agony, struggling underneath Harry’s weight. “Get off me, asshole!”

“Are you gonna stop?” asks Harry.

“You’re breaking my fucking arm!”

“Are you gonna stop?”

“Get off—”

“Are you gonna stop?”

Colin, finally realizing that he’s no match for the man holding him down, surrenders. “Yes! Yes! Fucking yes!”

But Harry doesn’t let go immediately. Instead, he leans down to Colin’s ear and says in a low, chilling tone, “Good boy, Colin.” Then he lets go.

He stands up, fixes his jacket around his torso, and turns around to face the women as if nothing just happened. “Y/N and I are leaving,” he tells Rosie. “You can come with us if you want. It’s your call.”

“I’m staying,” she replies, wincing a bit as she stares at Colin writhing on the floor.

“Okay.” Harry walks over to Y/N, grabs her hand, and starts pulling her towards the door, much like how she dragged him out of the party last night but with more urgency.

“I think he broke my arm,” they hear Colin whine pitifully as they leave.

Harry doesn’t release Y/N’s hand until they reach the car. Once they’re seated inside, she instantly starts assessing his appearance to check if he’s hurt anywhere, but he seems entirely unscathed. You wouldn’t even be able to tell that he’s just been in a fight.

“Are you okay?” she asks just to be sure.

“I’m fine,” he answers, securing his seatbelt before starting the car.

“That got way out of hand.”

“I wish you’d just left with me when I said so,” he mutters, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Harry, I didn’t want to leave her with him. I still feel awful about leaving her there.”

He takes a right, exiting Colin’s street. “What else were we meant to do, Y/N? Drag her out against her will? You think she’d still talk to you after that?” He scoffs.

His unusual harshness is making her feel even worse about a situation that is already difficult to grapple with. “No, of course not,” she says, a lump forming in her throat. “I understand why we had to leave her. I’m just saying that it fucking sucks, okay? The whole thing fucking sucks and I hate that my best friend is in the middle of it all and I can’t do anything to help her. I’m probably going to lose the only real friend I’ve made in my adult life all because of some fucking douchebag and I hate it, I hate him, I—I—” She breaks down then, her face falling into her hands as she sobs.

Anger is a strange emotion. When it’s there in full force, consuming you from head to toe, it leaves little room for anything else—anxiety, grief, and despair included. Then once it disappears, all those other emotions come hurtling in from all sides, crushing you beneath their weight.

Harry pulls over to the side of the road. “Y/N.” He turns to face her and carefully pries her hands away from her face.

She tilts her head back against the headrest, squeezing her eyes shut, tears falling unhindered.

“Hey, I get it,” he speaks gently. “I know it’s a shitty situation. I know you want to protect her, the same way I want to protect you, but you can’t save someone who’s constantly refusing your help. It’s not your fault, my love. You’ve done everything you can.” He holds both of her hands in one of his while using the other to wipe her cheeks. “I’m sorry for being harsh with you. I just hate the idea of you getting hurt. I’m sorry.” He kisses her hands several times.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, opening her eyes to look at him. She grabs a wad of tissues from the box on the dash and clears her throat before saying, “Thank you for being there tonight and handling everything so well… And not killing Colin, even though I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

“Trust me, I wanted to. The prick needs someone to teach him a lesson. Unfortunately, that can’t be me.”

“I don’t know. I think you taught him pretty well that he’s not as man as he thinks he is.”

He smirks, and it’s the first sign of any pride he feels about overpowering Colin. He looks back at the road and says, “Let’s go home.”

***

It’s been a couple days since the incident at Colin’s house. Y/N hasn’t heard from Rosie again, nor does she expect to. Now, it’s the middle of the afternoon and she’s working on a new commissioned drawing when she receives a call from Jeff.

“Hey, Y/N, I’ve been trying to reach Harry all day,” he says when she picks up. “Is he with you?”

The urgency in Jeff’s voice makes her stop what she’s doing. “Uh, no, he’s out golfing with some friends. Why? Is everything okay?”

“Have you been online at all today?” She barely has a chance to answer before he says, “Sorry, dumb question. Of course you haven’t. That’s why you’re so calm. Anyway, there’s this guy, some TikToker, making some serious allegations against Harry. His name is Colin Rogers. Does that ring a bell?”

She sighs and closes her eyes. “Yeah. That’s Rosie’s fiance. What’s he saying about Harry?”

“To give you the CliffsNotes version, he’s saying that you cheated on Harry with him a few nights ago, and when Harry found out, he forced his way into Colin’s house and beat him badly enough to cause bruises and bleeding that landed him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God.”

“Like I said, that’s the CliffsNotes version. I skipped out a lot of details. It’s… bad. And he has a witness corroborating his statements.”

She frowns. “What witness?”

“Your friend Rosie.”

Y/N facepalms and groans in frustration.

“Now, we know all of this is bullshit, right?”

“Yeah, that’s not what happened,” she confirms.

“Which explains why he didn’t say a word to the police and went straight to his little Internet followers. Now it’s all anyone is talking about.”

“Are people believing it?”

“Some are. Some aren’t. That’s usually how it goes.” He sounds tired. “Look, I need to run, but I’ll send you an article detailing everything Colin said. I hate to give these tabloids any clicks, but this article is pretty thorough. Please tell H to call me when you hear from him.”

“Will do.”

Jeff sends her the article a few seconds later. She takes a deep breath before opening the link, a sick feeling settling in her stomach.

The clickbait headline reads: Harry Styles’ first big SCANDAL! Read more to find out how the “As It Was” singer ASSAULTED TikTok influencer Colin Rogers in his home.

As Y/N scrolls through the article, she finds that Jeff was right. It’s bad. Very bad. There are clips from Colin’s TikTok where he describes in exaggerated detail his manufactured version of events from that night. In the clips, you can clearly see dark purple bruises on either side of his head and around his eyes as well as his neck. His lip is badly cut, the surrounding region swollen and puffy. Even his nose is bent at an odd shape, signalling a possible fracture.

Y/N recalls how desperately Colin was trying to provoke Harry that night, saying degrading things about her to get under his skin. He even alluded to Harry ending up in the news for hitting him. Colin may be an arrogant dickhead, but apparently he’s not stupid. He was planning this out in his head even then—how he would use that situation to publicly smear Harry’s reputation along with Y/N’s.

As another one of Colin’s TikToks plays, she sees him hold up a small object. Harry’s lion ring. Colin says he found it after Harry left his house, claiming that it must have fallen off during their altercation. But Y/N knows that’s a lie because Harry wasn’t even wearing any rings that night. He was, however, wearing rings the previous night at Rosie’s birthday party. It had to have slipped off his finger at the party without him knowing.

The ring is the only “proof” Colin has of Harry being at his house at one point. Other than that, he presents no solid evidence to back up his claims, but of course, anyone who has spent even a week on social media knows that it does not operate on facts and evidence. People’s insatiable hunger for drama trumps the truth in most online spaces.

Harry gets home from golfing a couple hours later, and Y/N sits him down to explain everything. By the end of it, he is befuddled and speechless. It takes a while for him to gather his thoughts, at which point he says he’s going to make some calls to Jeff, his publicist, and a few others on his team to get their input.

He disappears into the study for the next few hours, his deep voice occasionally carrying over to Y/N, who is working at the dining table. The sun has gone down. She contemplates getting started on dinner when Harry emerges from the study.

“Hi, baby,” she says.

He walks over to her and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat next to her. She notices the fatigue on his face.

“How did the calls go?”

“We’re releasing a statement tomorrow,” he says. “It’s been drafted up already. Just explaining what actually happened that night and making it very clear that I was invited into the house and the only time I touched Colin was to defend myself, but his injuries were not my doing.”

“Can’t you also sue him for defamation? Is that what it’s called?” Suddenly feeling self-conscious about her lack of knowledge on the law, she adds, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this stuff.”

He smiles sweetly. “It’s a bit early to take that step. Jeff thinks the statement might be enough to make Colin retract his story. I’m not so sure.” He shrugs. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope, you just keep being your lovely self.” He pokes her cheek.

“Well, Rosie’s over on her Instagram, trying to convince everyone that Colin’s telling the truth. I feel like I should say something too, like maybe—”

“Darling, trust me,” he interrupts. “There’s no need. My team will handle it. They know what they’re doing.”

She bites her lip and lets out a soft sigh. “Okay.”

“And let’s stay off social media for a while, yeah? Just to keep our sanity intact.” She knows he’s mostly saying this for her. He hardly uses social media unless it’s to catch up with his loved ones, and while she also isn’t on there that much, she struggles more than him when it comes to ignoring people’s opinions online.

“Yeah, definitely,” she agrees.

But later that night, while she’s lying in bed and Harry is finishing up his nighttime routine in the bathroom, the urge to look online strikes and she can’t resist. She opens up the hellsite known as Twitter and doomscrolls through the shitty takes of people who clearly don’t know a thing about Harry but have been desperately waiting for something like this to come out about him just so they can jump on the bandwagon and “cancel” him and pile on the hate like their life depends on it, despite the fact that none of them know what they’re talking about and—

“What are you doing?” Harry’s voice startles her. She quickly turns off her phone and looks at him standing next to the bed in just his Calvin Klein underwear, which does nothing to hide his prominent bulge.

“Nothing,” she replies.

He gives her a skeptical look.

She sighs. “I’m sorry! It’s like a car crash that I can’t look away from… Except I’m involved in the car crash and I didn’t even get the worst of it.”

He climbs onto the bed, gingerly plucking the phone out of her hands and placing it on the bedside table. Then he lies on his side next to her, propped up on one elbow. Y/N gazes up at him and shakes her head in awe at how laid-back he seems.

“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay so calm in just about every situation,” she says. “It’s infuriating and hot at the same time.”

He chuckles. “I just try to remind myself that these people don’t actually know me, so there’s no point in letting their opinions get to me.”

“You say that like it’s the easiest thing in the world.” Thanks to her social anxiety, Y/N has spent the better part of her life obsessing over what other people think of her, whether it be her loved ones or the random stranger that cashed her out at the grocery store. She has always yearned for the kind of cool indifference that people like Harry exude even in the face of immense scrutiny.

“I’ve had practice,” he says. “You’ll learn as well.”

“Yeah? Will you teach me?”

“Happily.”

His gaze shifts down to her lips, and he leans down to kiss them, soft and slow. Meanwhile, his finger traces along her jaw and down her neck until his hand comes to rest on one of her breasts. She’s not wearing a bra, and her thin shirt hardly acts as a barrier between his large hand and her supple skin. He squeezes her lightly in his palm, keeping his kisses and touches gentle, like he’s handling an expensive piece of porcelain.

For a moment, her mind drifts off to the comments she read online. She cannot fathom how anyone could believe that this man—this gentle, patient, loving man—would ever do the things that Colin accused him of.

It turns out that her mind isn’t the only one wandering off to other places because Harry suddenly pulls away and says, “Sorry to bring this up, but I…” His jaw clenches. “I just hate that he put his filthy hands on you.”

“I know,” she whispers, reaching up to weave her fingers through his curls in a soothing gesture. She had no idea that Colin’s actions towards her at the party were still bothering Harry.

“And with the press being all over it now, I almost wish I’d just beaten the living shit out of him. I mean, everyone thinks I did anyway.”

“Yeah, but that’s not you, H.”

He just shrugs.

Y/N sits up and tugs at his briefs. “Take these off.”

His brows perk up at her demand.

“I’m tired of thinking and talking about Colin,” she says. “So, let me give us both something else to think about.”

A smirk forms on his lips as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and pulls them down his legs.

Before he entered her life, Y/N would never take the lead during sex. She always felt like she lacked the self-confidence required for that, but then again, none of the men she’d previously slept with were ever willing to let her take the lead anyway. They were the type of guys to feel emasculated by relinquishing control to a woman, though they would never admit this.

Harry was different. He was equally happy to lead and be led, to give and to receive. That alone made sex with him an ethereal experience.

Now, once Y/N also strips naked, they rest on the bed with their positions reversed—him on his back and her propped up next to him. Her hand cradles his jaw before she leans down to kiss him. Then she brings her hand to his semi-erect cock, wrapping it around the base and stroking softly until he grows stiffer in her palm and starts leaking precum. She strokes his balls as well, drawing more fluid from his tip that she then uses to get his dick nice and wet.

Harry is ogling her exposed breasts now in that way he does when he really wants to suck on them, so she slides up the bed, allowing him to take them into his mouth. When she gives his cock a firm tug, he moans around her nipple. The sensation causes her own wetness to pool between her legs.

He continues licking and sucking on her tits, grazing his teeth over them ever so slightly. The pleasurable feeling momentarily distracts her from her task, but then she returns her attention to his needy cock twitching in her palm. She jerks him faster, moving her hand up and down his pinkish flesh with just enough pressure to turn him into a moaning mess under her. Her nipple falls from his mouth as his lips part.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants. “I— Wait, stop. Stop.”

She immediately stills her movements and starts to ask what’s wrong when he flips them over so that he’s on top of her.

“As much as I was enjoying that,” he says, “I want to feel your pussy on me when I cum.”

His erection prods her thigh as he hovers over her, his legs wedged between hers. He reaches down to her cunt, feeling the wetness that has accumulated there. She can see it in his eyes, in his blown out pupils, that he really wants to put his cock in her right then, but he takes a minute to toy with her clit and heighten the anticipation for both of them. At last, he grabs his cock and starts guiding it into her sopping pussy.

He pauses once he’s inside her and brings the hand that was playing with her clit up to her mouth, pressing his damp fingers against her lips until she opens up and takes them into her mouth.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he says.

Still sucking his fingers clean, she wraps her legs around his hips.

He grins at her quick compliance. “Such a good girl.” Then he emphasizes, “My good girl. Isn’t that right?”

She nods, closing her eyes as he grinds his hips down into her.

“Mhm. All mine.”

Her pussy contracts around him. Keeping his fingers in her mouth, he retracts his hips and thrusts back into her. She whimpers and wraps her arms around him, nails digging into his back muscles as the rhythm of his thrusts increases in speed and urgency.

He pulls his fingers from his mouth to place that hand on the bed for extra leverage. With her mouth free, all she can do is moan his name and cry out from the intoxicating feeling of his cock ramming deep into her cunt with every thrust.

“Look at you,” he coos. “Taking my cock so well. My perfect girl. My dream girl.”

His voice and his cock are the centre of Y/N’s universe right now; nothing else matters. Her orgasm is just around the corner, building rapidly in her core.

“Ready to cum all over my cock, Y/N?”

“Oh yes, please, yes—” She gasps as his hips rock into hers at just the right angle to push her over the edge. Her whole body locks around him—legs around his hips and arms around his back.

Harry grunts with one final thrust before letting himself go, filling her up with his seed. His body relaxes on top of her. She eases her grip on him as well. Their breathing slowly returns to normal, the rising and falling of their chests syncing up.

It’s hard to think about anything else after that. She wants to stay like that forever, with him covering her like a weighted blanket, his length gradually softening inside her. She even starts to drift off after a few minutes until Harry lifts his head to look at her.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me yet,” he says. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

She groans as he rolls off of her. He chuckles at her reluctance and drags her out of bed with him.

***

The viral storm rages on for days, even after Harry’s team releases the statement. Contrary to Jeff’s predictions, Colin doesn’t retract any of his claims and instead doubles down on them even harder, emboldened by the blind support of his followers.

Y/N and Harry block it all out. While she found it difficult at first to look away from the trainwreck, she was eventually able to redirect her attention to her art instead. For several days, the couple remains in their happy little bubble, unbothered by the incessant buzz of the online world.

That bubble pops on one sunny Friday afternoon.

Y/N is in need of some new art supplies, and Harry is in the mood to add to his vinyl collection. They decide to make a whole day out of it, visiting the art supply store and the record store before wandering around a few other places. One shop specifically dedicated to vintage home decor catches their attention, and they end up spending over an hour in there, walking through each aisle like kids in a candy store.

Harry is usually the first one to notice when they’re being watched or followed; they often joke that he has a third eye on the back of his head. Today, however, Y/N is the first to notice the two girls who keep showing up in or around the same aisle that they’re in.

Harry’s eyeing an antique candle holder set when she leans over to him and says quietly, “I think you have a shadow… Two, actually.”

He follows her gaze to the two girls idling at the end of the aisle. When he lifts his hand to wave at them, they seem to freeze in place like a couple of deer in headlights.

He turns back to Y/N. “I’m going to go say hi.”

She nods. “Okay, I’ll wait outside. Take your time.”

It’s a beautiful day out. Not too hot, not too cold. The cusp of spring. Perfect for a light sweater, but even in her long-sleeved shirt, Y/N feels nice and snug. She stands in front of the shop, the bags containing their new purchases hanging from her arm. She tilts her head up towards the sun and closes her eyes for a minute.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

Her eyes snap open at the sound of her name. A short, balding man dressed in all black stands before her.

“Uh, y—yes? Do I know you?” she asks, giving him a once-over.

He smiles. “No, but I know you.” Suddenly, he pulls a big professional camera out from behind his back and brings it up to his face with the lens directed at Y/N to capture her reaction as he says, “Ms. Y/L/N, how do you feel about the allegations made by Colin Rogers towards your boyfriend Harry Styles?”

She tenses.

Y/N has always hated being the centre of attention. Of course, when you’re dating a global superstar, it’s inevitable. However, over the course of their relationship, they haven’t had too many run-ins with the paparazzi; Harry has become rather skilled at avoiding the pests.

She wonders how this guy figured out their whereabouts, but considering how much time they spent inside the shop, it wouldn’t be surprising if an employee, or even the two fans Harry is currently talking to, tipped him off.

When she doesn’t respond to his question, he says, “Colin claims that Harry has a short temper and is a lot more aggressive than he lets on. Is this true, Ms. Y/L/N?”

She looks over her shoulder at the shop windows to see if Harry is on his way out. Whenever she tries to step back or turn away from the annoying pap, he finds his way right back in front of her with his camera shoved in her face. Flashbacks of how Colin cornered her by the pool at Rosie’s birthday party flicker in the back of her mind.

She continues ignoring the intrusive questions until he asks her, “Has Harry ever hit you, Ms. Y/L/N?“

The question is so jarring that it almost feels like someone knocked the air out of her lungs. “Excuse me?”

The man seems pleased to finally get a reaction out of her. With a casual shrug, he replies, “Just felt the need to ask since the new claims came out.”

Her heart pounds in her chest. “What new claims?”

“A source close to you and Harry says that she’s seen him lose his temper with you on more than one occasion and—”

Her face contorts in disgust. “God, you people will believe anything! No, he hasn’t hit me. He would never. And the fact that you would ask any woman a sensitive question like that while filming her without consent is disgusting.”

“So… Are you denying the claims, Ms. Y/L/N?”

What do you think, dumbass? she wants to say, but she refuses to give him any more content. Of course, that only makes him more persistent, and yet again, the camera is far too close to her face.

“C—can you get that out of my face please?” she says, less assertively than she would have liked, but her anxiety is rising with every passing moment and the only thing on her mind at this point is how to slow down her heartrate before she passes out.

Suddenly, a ringed hand appears from the left side of her vision and shoves the camera down and out of her face.

“Whoa, don’t touch the equipment, man!” the pap shouts angrily, clutching his precious camera to his chest.

Harry steps in front of him, towering over his short figure. “When someone asks you nicely to get the camera out of their face, you get the camera out of their face. It’s not that complicated.”

The pap takes a step back, raising his hands by his sides. “Calm down, pal. What, you gonna hit me too?”

Harry just scowls at him, then turns to Y/N with concerned eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, let’s just go.” She reaches for his arm.

Not wasting another second, they start walking towards Harry’s car parked down the street. The pap is relentless, following them all the way there.

Right as Harry presses the button to unlock the car, he says, “Harry, any comments on the new claims about you hitting your girlfriend?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns around. “What did you just say?”

“H, let’s just get in the car,” Y/N pleads.

“Not my words, man,” says the pap. “Just saw it in the news today. A source close to you said—”

“A source close to me.” Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“You can look it up if you don’t believe me. I’m trying to help you, man. Colin Rogers is dominating the narrative. This is your chance to say your piece—”

“Right, well, here’s my piece then.” The pap raises the camera to his face again as Harry says, “Colin Rogers is a narcissistic, misogynistic, abusive pile of shit.” Leaning towards the man, he adds, “And so are you.”

And with that, he gets into the car and so does Y/N. She’s still shocked about what he said to the pap, not that it wasn’t deserved. He’s just always so stoic in these situations, and it’s the first time she has witnessed him break.

They ride silently for a while until Harry says, “People are saying I hit you? What the fuck? What the actual—”

“Okay, wait,” she says, placing a hand on his arm. “We don’t even know if he was telling the truth. He could’ve been making it up to get a reaction out of us. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

This is new to Y/N, being the calm one in a crisis. More often than not, Harry is the one talking her anxious self down from the proverbial ledge instead of the other way around.

He doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride, but she can tell his mind is spinning. Once they reach home, she heads upstairs to change and put their shopping away. When she comes back down, Harry is sitting on the couch, leaning forward on his thighs with his phone in his hands. His face is set in a deep frown.

“He was right,” he says without looking up from his phone as she approaches him. “People really are saying that.”

She sits down next to him and gently pulls his shoulder to make him rest back against the couch. He sets his phone aside and rubs his hands over his face.

“Y/N, they think I’m some kind of monster. They think they need to, like… save you from me, as if I would ever hurt you…” Finally, he looks at her. “You know I would never hurt you, right?”

Her eyes widen. “Yes. Oh my God. You don’t need to tell me that, Harry.”

He sighs and tilts his head against the back of the couch. “Out of all the things people have said about me over the years, this has got to be the worst.”

She brings her hand to his jaw, his stubble scraping against her fingers. “Baby, look at me.”

He tilts his head down again to meet her gaze.

“These people don’t know you,” she says, using his own wording. “They’re just a bunch of trolls that feed off drama. They don’t care about the truth. They don’t care about ‘saving’ me. It’s all just an act. And in a few days, they’re going to move on to some other celebrity gossip that catches their attention. Meanwhile, the people who do know you are still going to see you as the big softie you are.”

The look in his eyes is still one of utter defeat and hopelessness, which makes her worry that her words have had no impact on him.

“Do you want to talk to someone else about it? Like Jeff?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna talk to anyone. Just wanna lay here with you if that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

She lies on the couch and lets him rest his head on her chest, his arm wrapped around her middle. She tries to think of some other comforting words she can say to him but then realizes that she doesn’t have to fill the silence. Sometimes, the act of just being there for someone is far more comforting than any words can be.

***

Y/N is getting worried about Harry. A week has gone by and he has hardly left the house. Between the two of them, he is by far the more outdoorsy one, but even she has been outside more times than him this past week. He hasn’t been eating much, claiming that he’s “just not very hungry.” She often wakes in the night to find him lying there, just staring up at the ceiling, and has to coax him to sleep. She doesn’t even hear him singing in the shower like he normally does.

It crushes her to see him so low. She wants to single-handedly take down every person who has made him feel this way.

The day after the incident with the pap, she made the dangerous decision to see for herself what people were saying online. Most people seemed to recognize that these new rumours about Harry hitting Y/N were completely out of character. Despite how private they are about their relationship, people know that he practically worships Y/N from the way he talks about her in his music.

The ones who believed the rumours were a small, but vocal, minority. Harry’s fans were trying their best to drown them out, like it was their full-time job, and while Y/N feels grateful for them, she wishes there was more that she could do to help.

Today, she somehow convinces Harry to go on a walk with her around the neighbourhood. Intent on not being recognized, he opts for the most indistinguishable clothing that covers him from head to toe, combined with a hat and sunglasses. He even keeps the hood of his sweater pulled up over his hat.

“It’s so warm out,” she says as they stroll down the sidewalk. “How are you not dying in that?”

He shrugs and kicks a rock in his path. “Dunno.”

Most of his responses have been like that lately. Short, indifferent. She doesn’t take it personally. After all, she behaves in a similar way when her anxiety has her in its grips. And anyway, even though he doesn’t talk much these days, he hasn’t stopped being affectionate or reminding her that he loves her.

When they return home from their walk, Harry immediately removes his hat and sweater, confirming that he was indeed too warm in that. She makes a comment about craving a cold smoothie, and he offers to make one for her as well as one for himself.

“I can make them,” she says. “It was my idea anyway.”

He shakes his head. “No, I was a dick on our walk. Need to make up for that.”

She gives him a look. “H, you don’t need to make up for anything.”

“I do though,” he insists, walking off to the kitchen before she can protest any further.

Suddenly, her phone goes off in her back pocket. She pulls it out. It’s Rosie. For a few seconds, she vacillates between picking up and ignoring it. In the end, she picks up.

“Hello?”

“He broke up with me,” says Rosie.

Surprise, surprise, thinks Y/N. “Did you call to tell me that?”

“No, I… I need to confess something.” Her voice trembles as she states, “I—I’m the one who told the press that Harry hit you.”

Y/N lets out a sigh and leans against the small table in the entryway of the house. “I already knew that, Rosie.”

“You did?”

“‘A source close to me’? Not a lot of people can say they’re close to me, so it was kind of a no-brainer.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m going to tell everyone that it was all a story, that none of it is true.”

“It’s a bit late for that.”

“You have no idea how sorry I am. Colin got in my head and he—”

“Did he tell you to say that Harry hit me?”

“W—well, no…”

“So that was your own genius idea?”

She says nothing.

Y/N closes her eyes, trying to sound as firm as possible as she says the next few words, “Okay, Rosie, I need you to listen to me closely… I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t ever want to hear from you again. And don’t ever come near me or Harry ever again. Do you understand?”

Rosie’s answer arrives in an ashamed whisper, “Yeah.”

She’s about to hang up, her finger hovering over the little red icon, then she lifts the phone back up to her ear. “One more thing. How did Colin get those injuries?”

“Um, he went to that bar on Jacob Street that night after you and Harry left. He got wasted and got into a fight with a guy almost twice his size.”

Y/N knows exactly which bar she’s referring to. Now that she has the information she needs, she bids her now ex-best friend a final goodbye and hangs up. Tears prick the backs of her eyes as she realizes that the longest friendship of her life has just come to a calamitous end.

She places her phone on the table and looks up at the ceiling to keep the tears in. Then a pair of arms wraps around her waist from behind. She looks over her shoulder at Harry.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says. “I know she meant a lot to you.”

She smiles sadly, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

“Look at us. We’re just a couple of sad people, aren’t we?”

She laughs. “No! I refuse to label us as sad people. We’re just going through a tough time and we’re going to get through this.”

“Yes, we are.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m actually thinking of going back to therapy. It’s been a while.”

“That’s a great idea. I should probably do that too.”

Later that afternoon, Harry falls asleep while reading a book on the couch. Y/N takes this as her chance to chat with Jeff about something that’s been on her mind since her conversation with Rosie.

When Jeff picks up her call, she doesn’t even wait for him to speak before she says, “I know how we can prove that Colin’s lying.”

“Uh… Okay, elaborate.”

“I spoke to Rosie today and she told me Colin went to a bar that night where he got into a fight with someone and ended up with those injuries. I know which bar it is. If we can go there and get security camera footage from that night, we can prove that Colin was lying all along.”

“I see what you’re saying, but we can’t just walk into a bar and ask for their security footage. We’re not investigators.”

“Okay, but don’t you know someone who can do that? You’re an Azoff. You have connections, don’t you?”

“Yeah, in the entertainment industry, Y/N. Not in law enforcement.”

She releases a heavy sigh. “C’mon, Jeff, there has to be something we can do with this information… If you’re not going to help, I will go to that bar and steal that footage myself.”

“Don’t do that,” he says quickly. “Look, I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“Thank you.”

There’s a pause before he asks, “How’s H doing?”

“Not great. He’s really torn up about what people are saying, especially the rumours about him… hurting me. Which is exactly why I need to clear his name. I know some people will still say nasty things about him—that’s never going to stop—but…” She bites her lip to keep herself from getting emotional, which seems to be happening a lot lately. “Harry has been there for me through so much. I need to do this for him.”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

She smiles. She didn’t know she needed to hear that until now. Ever since this mess began, a part of her has been blaming herself for putting Harry through this hell because Rosie and Colin never would’ve entered his life if it wasn’t for her. While she knows that it’s not her fault, sometimes her insecurities get the best of her.

“Thanks, Jeff,” she replies.

***

Not even twenty-four hours later, the bar footage is released online. It spreads like wildfire, turning all of Harry’s critics to ashes and causing irreparable damage to Colin’s credibility.

Y/N messages Jeff to commend him for retrieving the footage so fast.

Y/N: YOU’RE AMAZING I OWE YOU

Jeff: You can repay me by drawing 100 portraits of me that I can hang around my house

Y/N: On it 🫡

Even Rosie sticks to her word by announcing on her social media that everything she said was a lie, which adds another nail in Colin’s coffin.

Over the next few days, the ominous cloud that has been hanging over Harry and Y/N’s heads finally clears. Harry is back to being his bubbly, radiant self, lighting up every room he walks into. Life feels like it’s returning to normal, at last.

Tonight, they’re at dinner with Jeff and Harry’s two other managers, Tom and Tommy. It’s not a business meeting; Harry was just in the mood to treat the people who continue to support him both professionally and personally. Lately, Y/N has been feeling motivated to overcome her discomfort around eating in public, so she agreed to tag along as well. Towards the end of their meal, Jeff raises his glass and clears his throat to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, we need to make a toast to someone at this table,” he states. “Not you, Harry. Don’t get too excited.”

Harry’s in the middle of sipping his drink, so he just flips his friend the middle finger, which Jeff graciously returns.

“This is a toast to Y/N and her investigative skills,” Jeff continues, now looking at Y/N, who is completely caught off-guard by this gesture. “She was the one who figured out how He Who Shall Not Be Named got his injuries. And she came up with the idea of getting the security footage from that bar.”

Everyone is staring at her now, including Harry. His eyebrows are raised in surprise as he asks, “That was your idea?”

“Oh, I— It was nothing,” she says modestly. “I didn’t even do much.”

Then Jeff reveals, “She even threatened to go to the bar and steal that footage herself if I didn’t help her.” He points a finger at her. “The lady knows how to get what she wants.”

Her cheeks flush red. “Okay, that might have been a bit dramatic, but I just couldn’t let Col—” She suddenly remembers their unspoken rule of not referring to Colin by name and corrects herself, “Sorry, I couldn’t let He Who Shall Not Be Named get away with smearing Harry’s reputation, so...” She shrugs, taking a sip of her water in a futile attempt to hide the blush on her face.

Harry smiles and squeezes her knee under the table. “Thank you, lovie.”

“Maybe we need to get Y/N on the team,” says Tommy.

“Oh yeah, she’s basically my guardian angel,” says Harry, winking at her. “Might as well.”

Y/N just laughs and accepts the praise, not bothering to hide her reddened cheeks anymore. She might hate being the centre of attention, but at least this is a good kind of attention.

“To Y/N, everyone!” says Jeff, lifting his glass up in the air.

“To Y/N!”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

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[thosewildcharms]

towl 1x03 thoughts

rick is REALLY going through it trying to keep michonne alive by out maneuvering jadis AND thorne AND michonne herself because she fails horrendously at acting like she's not the most impressive person in the world AND trying not to have an aneurysm about all of that at the same time

speaking of rick you can't tell her to lie low and then eyefuck her in public every time you see her you are equally bad at this

equally you should probably stop kissing her every chance you get if you want her to believe you want her to leave lol

by contrast michonne screaming at him with her eyes while simultaneously giving him the silent treatment because she's actually too pissed off to yell at him? danai the actress you are!!!!!!!

also!!! the fact that rick thinks he can say "if you love me, you'll go" would actually make her leave is crazy. he has no idea how much that woman loves him! that's why she just smiled angrily at him because ACTUALLY. the reality is that she loves him way TOO much to ever leave him behind. that's WHY she's even here, in fact!!! he's not used to people fighting for him like this :(

michonne ripping that helmet off his head so hard i thought his head might come off with it had me cackling but also rick is stronger than me because I'd be on my knees

"you're a hero. with a shit haircut" I screamed he hates jadis so much it's so funny fdjaslkf

speaking of which I wonder if the freaks who think there is genuine sexual tension between rick and jadis caught his look of absolute disgust as he physically recoiled from her when she sexually harassed him for the 100th time. girl he's not gonna fuck you

CARL MENTION HELP

"He told me he'd find you. He found you." "Now I'm looking for him." MAYBE STOP MAKING ME CRY PERHAPS

one thing about rick and michonne they WILL find a minute to make out for a bit. and because andy and danai are EPs now they will do it with tongue while extremely well-lit! it's like they heard the complaints from the mothership and addressed them by kissing at least once per episode in broad daylight they love us

rich and michonne effortlessly fighting side by side and getting shit done after almost a decade apart because they are ACTUAL soulmates

the parallel between pearl aiming her gun at michonne and shane aiming his gun at rick in season 2 because they both feel threatened!!! big difference of course being that rick is there to literally put himself in the crosshairs to protect her

michonne staring rick down in a a turbulent helicopter and then abruptly yeeting them both into a raging storm because she is fed up with his shit is the funniest, most unhinged thing I've ever seen I love her so much

this show is fucking insane I love it. I'm still wary of how it will all end but I'm enjoying the hell out of it until we get there

#towl spoilers #the ones who live #the ones who live spoilers #richonne

[abiiors]

silent treatment 💫 // ross macdonald x reader

a/n: this is not a christmas fic, this is just something that i had in my drafts for like a month now because @the1975attheirverybest sent me a photo of ross' tour bus (the one in the banner) from when she went to the baltimore show and of course i had nasty ideas about it lmao. so yes, here we go--the tour bus fucking fic hehe. i'm still really struggling with writer's block and hate everything i have been writing so this might be a bit shit :/ cw: brat-taming kinda, smut obv, dirty talk??? general nasty behaviour wc: 2.2k

american fans are loud. 

well, all fans are loud; it’s not really a bad thing to be, but the american ones are especially loud, you’ve noticed. cheers and shouts and whoops of joy at the airport, and a collective roar that tears through the crowd every time the boys come on stage—it’s all part of the world. his world. your world. 

girls shriek and cry wherever he goes, hugging him—their bodies pressed against his, their hands holding his, boldly flirting with him too sometimes. sure, he ignores it and only smiles politely. sure, he only signs their stuff and indulges them for selfies but the burn in your chest remains just the same. dull but prominent. 

all in all, he likes america and america likes him. you? maybe not so much. 

still, it’s not all hate. it’s fun being on the tour bus and driving through the big wide expanses of the midwest, certainly fun when his hand is buried between your legs and the other muffling your moans. fun to watch your nails digging into his thigh as you chase the high over and over again before falling limp against his chest. 

today, however, you skew more towards annoyance. 

he’s been so busy, he hasn’t even had the time to look at you properly much less talk to you for longer than ten minutes—what with having to leave one city and go to the other immediately. it’s been hectic and he’s seized the chance to nap whenever he can, just like polly and john who share the bus with you. not that you blame him for it—the exact opposite of it, in fact—you’re grateful for any rest he can get. 

but the brattiness rears its ugly head sometimes. and now as you stand there in a corner, watching the instruments being taken out of their truck and brought backstage, you can’t help but bite angrily on the lollipop in your mouth. 

ross is on the phone across the room, talking to a friend or a colleague or maybe even family. you don’t know. what you do know is his eyes are trained on you and you alone—rather, on your lips closed around the lollipop, on the sticky residue on your lips. your eyes in turn move to his hand—the one gripping the phone in a vice-like grip, knuckles almost white. 

it only takes him another ten seconds to end the call and cross the room. and now here he is—towering over you, looking down at you. 

“what’s up with you?”

you shrug, tongue flat against the sweet candy, “nothing.”

“nothing?” his voice is low. mostly to conceal it from the people all around you but also full of warning. so you’ve irked him then… good.

you choose not to answer, giving the lollipop a small lick instead. there’s barely any left now but you plan to enjoy every last bit of it. 

“what, don’t wanna talk to me now?”

“me?” you ask, exaggerating the confusion in your voice. testing the boundaries. 

“yes, you,” his eyes flash a little, “don’t act like you don’t know what i’m talking about.”

it’s a dangerous game to play with him, especially the way his pupils dialate every time you swirl your tongue around the last bit of the candy, relishing it thoroughly and letting its sweetness linger on your lips. 

ross leans down, mouth directly next to your ear. “you can be a brat all you want, sweet girl. as long as you’re ready for the consequences.”

and before you’ve had the chance to reply, he bends down and closes his mouth around the rest of the lollipop. a loud crunch cuts through the silence. he straightens, smiles like nothing’s out of the ordinary and leaves you holding the now empty white stick.

ross is busy talking to the organisers of a local artists’ collective. 

he laughs and chats animatedly and listens to them talking about how much they value this opportunity that the band has created. their voices are loud and boisterous—happy, giddy, excited. a complete contrast to you sulking in the corner, scrolling through tiktok and watching one pointless video after another. 

his eyes flick to you once in while, linger on you when matty takes over the conversation. you see the warning in them so clearly. don’t be a baby. don’t pout. but you ignore and double down. if he doesn’t want to give you attention then you’re not going to beg for it. no matter how much you want to pull him into some broom closet and show him exactly what he’s missing. 

you cross and uncross your legs and send him a look. 

look what you to do me. 

he sends one back. 

busy. not now.

so you go back to your phone. scroll, a makeup tutorial, scroll, ten must buy amazon things, scroll, movies to watch this winter, scroll— a snap of his fingers breaks through your monotony. 

“come share a fag with me.”

you take your sweet time looking and him an deciding if you’re in the mood to smoke, even go so far as to make him ask again. 

“well?”

“sure.”

it’s quieter once you’re outside. there’s still the sounds of traffic and a bit of laughter floating out from the inside. somewhere someone’s playing a familiar tune and you watch ross light his cigarette. the fire casts a warm glow on his jaw briefly, on his stubble that’s coming in once again after shaving it off for halloween. 

the skin on the inside of your thighs stings from the memory. 

“open,” he says and you obey, letting him stick the end of the cigarette between your lips and taking a drag. the smoke burns but with some satisfaction you see the lipstick smudge you left behind. 

ross is just taking his own drag when you blow the smoke on his face and shrug when quirks an eyebrow. 

“generous of you to take five minutes out of your busy schedule.”

“careful, love,” he warns and lets you take another drag of the cigarette. “don’t be a brat. you know i’m busy.”

“you’re always busy.”

“is that so?” 

he looks amused and it riles you up even more. he’s the one that’s supposed to be affected, not you! a beat of silence passes and ross slowly drags his fingers up your arms leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

“my gorgeous girl,” he says and presses a kiss to your shoulder, moving his mouth to your jaw and then to your collarbone. “are you mad at me?”

“no.”

“no?”

you fight to contain the shiver that passes through you. even when you can feel the little tingles intensifying throughout your body. need swirls through your stomach the more his mouth moves on your neck.

“then what’s this silent treatment for, huh?”

“what silent treatment?”

“oh, baby,” ross tuts and his stubble grazes over the sensitive skin of your neck. “you really wanna play dumb?”

every retort flies out of your brain when he grabs a hold of your hips and pulls you close to him. 

“you know what happens to dumb little bunnies, right?”

“y-yes.” it’s almost a whimper that quickly turns into a half moan when his hand rests on the back of your thighs, trailing up and up and up until it’s almost on the curve of your ass. 

you yelp when he pinches the skin. 

“you want to be fucked that bad, huh?”

and now you finally have him where you want. 

“so now you want to be loud,” ross mocks and dives back under your dress. 

this torture has lasted for a good ten minutes now. the insides of your thighs already feel raw and chafed. and he hasn’t even properly started yet. he’s still busy marking up the smooth skin of your legs. 

“always a good girl when you want something from me, aren’t you?”

you nod fervently, trying to stifle the mewl that’s about to leave your mouth. instead you clutch his head and try to push him where you want. ross is quicker. before you ever know it, his hand it wrapped around your wrists and he pulls back again, looking at you with yet another warning glare. 

his hair is a mess, his mouth wet from leaving all those kiss and bites on your skin but it’s his eyes that really get you—pupils blown out so wide that his eyes might as well be black. 

“please ross, please,” you whine, shamless and desperate and dying for his mouth to be back on you. 

“please what?”

“please make me cum.”

your pout has stopped affecting him a long time ago, even when you look at him with teary eyes and spread your legs wider. the underwear was discarded somewhere the minute you got inside the tour bus and now he has the perfect view of how wet you are. how ready for him. 

the inside of the bus feels uncomfortably hot or maybe it’s just your skin that’s sticky and sweaty and in desperate need of his touch. 

“no silent treatment anymore?”

“no,” you shake your head, “gonna be a good girl now. please please please.”

“yes, you are.” ross smiles and it feels more sinister than genuine. “i’ll stop what i’m doing if i hear another sound from you, baby.”

“w-what?”

“dumb little slut,” he mocks again, mouth so so close to your clit that it’s impossible to focus on anything else. “don’t want people to walk in on us, do you?”

“no. no!”

“then be quiet for me.”

easy for him to say. because his lips attach around your clit at that exact moment and you bite down on the back of your hand to stop the loud moan from escaping. 

“ungrateful, spoiled little brat,” ross tuts, presses his tongue flat against your opening. “look at you now.”

the heady mix of big and small licks makes your head spin, makes you want to cry out his name over and over again but for the sake of your sanity you stay quiet. for each small whimper that still manages to escape you, you feel a small sting on your thigh—a nip or a bite.

“my sweet, filthy girl,” he coos, ghosting his lips over each bruise, each bite and goes back to torturing your cunt. 

“ross, can i–oh! can i cum, please!”

“gonna cum for me, already?” he teases and pulls away entirely. “and what if i said no.”

the look you give him is one full of desperation—tears gathered on your lower lashline, bottom lip swollen and red from bitting hard to keep quiet.

“please!”

“no.”

and that’s that, just like that his head is back between your legs, tongue hot on your cunt as his nose pushed into your clit. between trying to stay quiet and trying not to cum you barely have any grip on reality. all you know is how it feels too much, too much pleasure, bordering on pain now. the urge to let go is too strong. 

“let me ask you again, baby,” his voice comes through the haze in your mind. barely even audible. “are you done with the silent treatment?”

“y-yes, m’sorry!” you whine, “won’t do it again. wont—”

“look at you…” his condescending tone somehow turns you on even more. the humiliation somehow adds to the pleasure. “ready to be my good girl again?”

“yes, yes!” the buzzing in your ears is so loud now, his voice barely even comes through. all you know is the feeling of his tongue inside you and the stinging of your thighs. the sticky sweat on your skin. 

your legs shake from the strain of denying yourself an orgasm, your head swims with too much of everything and nothing all at once. 

“go on then,” he speaks. finally. “you can let go now.”

all you manage is a long whine and every single restraint drops. you think you grip his head between your thighs, practically convulsing from the force of the orgasm that hits you, trembling from the way his tongue laps everything up. it’s beyond you how he manages to hold you upright. 

you think you scream out his name, practically alerting everyone in a five kilometre radius. you think you pull on his hair and hear him hiss. but ross lets you. 

minutes later when he finally stands, his beard and mouth glistens with slick. 

“there’s my good girl,” he coos and holds you in his arms. 

“look at me,” he coaxes a bit until you manage to open your eyes and look at him properly. despite how fucked he looks, there’s a sweet smile on his face. and his eyes soften when you meet his gaze. “sorry i ignored you before, love. don’t be mad at me.”

“m’not mad at you.” you mumble and every single negative emotion from before melts away within seconds. 

“good.” his smile widens, just a touch of mischievous once again. “now that you’ve learned your lesson… let me make it up to you.” 

and just like that, he’s back on his knees, diving between your legs once again. 

reblogs and comments are always appreciated <33

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