#but who always wished she could go to school for film

[abimee]

when i was in highschool around age 16 i was offered the chance to audition for a play at a local playhouse, and the way in which it was described to me i had thought the playhouse was putting on a play where they wanted disabled people to come and perform, an all-disabled performance to give us a chance at something that other playhouses probably wouldnt allow us

but when i got there with my friend we were the only two there, and when i was lead into the place we did a quick audition at the piano and then shown to the stage, where the picture became clear; this was not an audition for disabled kids to come and perform, it was an audition where they wanted two disabled kids to come play two one-scene roles that had a combined total of 8 lines, no song performance, and of which were two henchmen. the entire rest of the cast was a group of abled adults, and we would be the only disabled people performing at all

i promptly left the stage and out of the playhouse before we even finished the tour and i told my friends mother to tell them i am not going to participate and to throw my audition out, and then went home and made an original oc story called "The Lipsync Orchestra" and wrote it about a group of disabled highschoolers who all get accepted into a strange new production in town head by a retired performer, where they would be given full reigns of a production warehouse-turned-theatre to perform their own all-disabled plays, shoot and performance music videos, and be given the ability to seek out their performance dreams that they would not be otherwise given by other playhouses or theatres in their area. because i was so fucking mad LOL

[kn11ves]

im sick to death of hearing teachers complaining about their students on social media. first if all i dont think you should at all be complaining if theres even a CHANCE that it can be traced back to you if you are complaining about your students, children are extremely fragile and if they hear what you say that could haunt them for the rest of their lives. and now we have fuckjng podcasts and video shorts of teachers telling fucking stories of their bad experiences with *kids* when they were teaching. I HOPE YOU NEVER WORK IN CHILD CARE AGAIN ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? its INSANE. and i just seent this bitch ACTUALLY FILM INSIDE OF HER CLASSROOM AND COMPLAIN ABOUT HER STUDENTS. ARE YOU INSANE. I HOPE YOU GET FIRED.

[sometimesanalice]

Bedside Manner

Summary: You were expecting the perfect summer afternoon with the Daggers, but when a game of dogfight football takes a turn for the worse, you’re left with a bleeding head and an aching heart. And it’s up to Bradley to show you his bedside manner.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: A little angst, a little pining, and two idiots in love.

It’s a perfect summer afternoon. Well, almost.

The sun is high in the sky and the steady salt kissed ocean breeze keeps it from being too uncomfortably hot. The coolers are filled with beers and sodas and a few pink cans of rosé that Coyote had brought. And the beach blankets were littered with open half-eaten family sized bags of chips and cubes of bright pink watermelon and containers of various dips and ziplocs with sun warmed and mostly melted chocolate chip cookies.

“You guys, really, I’m fine,” you state as adamantly as you can given the circumstances.

Sure, you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your throbbing, bleeding head. Sure, you are a little afraid to put your full weight on your left ankle and already dreading the long walk back to your car.

But it’s fine, you’re fine. Everything is…peachy. Or it will be as soon as they all stop looking at you like you’re about to crumple to the ground like some 1920’s silent film starlet from on the silver screen.

Nat has that deep pinch between her sharp brown eyes. Jake’s lips are pressed together in a firm white line. The rest of the team stands hovering around you in a misshapen semicircle, all sandy and sweaty, and wearing the concern painted across their faces.

All except for Rooster, who can’t seem to look at you at all.

“Clearly, you’re not,” Phoenix says flatly, clearly unamused by your attempts to minimize the situation. And you wish that just this once she could have let this go and follow your lead. But then she wouldn’t be Natasha Trace.

Your best friend since middle school had always been the most capable and sharpest person in the room and you loved that about her.

Normally.

But not so much when her keen assessment of you keeps you from being able to slink away quietly without fuss. 

“No, seriously. It’s just a little scratch. It’s not a big deal.” It sounds feeble even to your own ears. Trying to hold back a wince when the way you shake your head makes starbursts bloom behind your eyes.

You could have dealt with the pounding in your head if it weren’t for the relentless burning of your ankle that was only making things worse. One or the other would have been easier to manage, but both vying for your attention as the pain pulses with every heartbeat was miserable.

The sun was too hot, the kids frolicking the ocean were too loud, the sunscreen on your skin felt too greasy. All you wanted was a shower and your bed and to forget this whole day even happened.

You look around the group trying to gauge how successful your efforts are, but it’s clear that no one seems to be buying your brand of poorly performed bullshit. You wanted to crawl into yourself like a hermit crab, protected by your own shell, as six pairs of eyes all looked on at you sympathetically, while the pretty brown ones you wanted to see the most were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and trained down at the ground.

It was supposed to be a fun day.

You’d woken up that morning absolutely giddy about trading spreadsheets for sand and sunburns and sea salt tangled hair. Your cheery, new swimsuit already laid out and waiting for you from the night before.

There was something thrilling about hooky on a Friday with all of your favorite people that made you feel all kinds of young and free. Well, hooky for you. They’d been given the day off after a month of intensive training and testing of some new defensive software. They all deserved the break and you were more than happy to tag along.

You were always the good kid in school, never skipping, never missing a class. You’d felt like a rebellious teen as you crafted your ‘out of office’ email, a smug grin on your face like you were getting away with something. Even though you’d earned the right to use that PTO whichever way you wanted.

The anticipation of a snow day from your childhood school days had nothing on the intoxicating promise of a beach day on a golden summer Friday.

The team must have felt the same way too because the group chat the night before had been chaotically amusing. The excitement was palpable enough that you’d almost think you all lived in some landlocked state rather than San Diego, where it felt like all roads led to the beach whether you wanted them to or not.

Somewhere between the string of all capitalized sentences and exclamation points with a few well-chosen emojis scattered throughout, Natasha had managed to wrangle everyone in enough into sorting out who was responsible for bringing what. There wouldn’t be another veggie platter incident, not on her watch.

You’d felt bright and effervescent as you’d pulled into the parking lot, your eyes reflexively seeking out a blue Bronco that hadn’t arrived yet. With a beach chair over one shoulder and a beach bag over the other and a packed cooler bag in your hand, you’d made towards the multicolored sprawl of blankets and the striped peaks of the umbrellas, where you were met with the smiling faces of shiny happy people.

Some of the boys had rushed over to help you carry your things and added your offerings to the communal pile of snacks and sunscreen and bottles of water. It had been easy to fall into conversation with everyone as you set up your own little patch of paradise and shimmied out of your frayed cut-offs. Natasha had given you a wolf whistle and you’d laughed as you give her the finger.

And hour and a half later with an easy grin on his face, carrying a case of beer and two big Ziploc bags stuffed with what you learned later were homemade cookies balanced on top, was Rooster.

You’ve had plenty of beach days with them but every time you saw him in those damn denim shorts he always seemed determined to wear, regardless of how impractical they were, your mind still went a little fizzy as you took in just how well they clung to his thighs.

He’d taken the ribbing from his squad in stride as he unboxed the beers and added them to the collection already chilling in Bob’s bright yellow cooler. You were trying- and failing- to read your worn paperback book when he’d surprised you by plopping his things next to yours on your oversized towel and stole a chunk of juicy watermelon off of the plate balanced on your lap.

“Hey, book worm,” he grinned as he popped it into his mouth, “How’s my favorite girl doing?” That smile of his getting bigger when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Hi, Rooster,” you’d said looking at him from over the top of your sunglasses with an amused smirk.

And if your cheeks felt warm, it was from the sun and not the teasing tone of his raspy voice.

When he’d shrugged off his shirt to apply the sunscreen you’d brought with him in mind, the wink he’d shot you went straight to your head like champagne. The sun highlighting his impressive abs and sculpted shoulders didn’t help either as he took great efforts to cover his chest and stomach with the lotion. He had to be doing it on purpose, because he’d kept rubbing it in well past when the white hue faded. But who were you to complain? Melanoma was no joke.

“You wanna help me out?” he’d asked turning his back to you, looking over his shoulder. You’re pretty sure that he’d been flexing because he’d looked impossibly broad, every defined muscle standing out for eyes to map out and explore.

You’d been at war with yourself, because while your eager hands were desperate to touch him, you also knew that once you ran your hands along his solid frame that you’d never want to stop. That you wouldn’t be content until your fingertips had traced every inch of him.

You had been blessedly and devastatingly spared the choice.

“I got you, Rooster. My hands are already all sunscreen-y,” chimed in Bob, who had just finished rubbing his own freshly applied layer. “Wouldn’t want it to get on her book.”

You were only half relieved to be off the hook, while Bradley on the other hand was still looking at you expectantly, almost hopefully, still with the white and yellow bottle of sunscreen partly extended towards you.

“That’s so sweet of you, Bob-” you’d started.

“Yeah, so sweet-” Bradley grumbled under his breath.

“I appreciate you sparing my pages the sunscreen grease,” you’d said shooting Bob a smile, choosing to ignore Bradley’s comment completely. “Plus, your hands are bigger than mine. You’ll have him covered in no time.”  

Bradley looked between you and Bob before he passed the bottle to the other man, shaking his head a little in defeat. You’d giggled to yourself as you wiggled your book at an openly brooding Bradley, and then leaned back on your elbows to observe the way the attentive WSO made sure to carefully and thoroughly cover Bradley’s entire back.

Respectfully, of course.

Behind your sunglasses you’d admired all of Bradley’s bulk compared to Bob’s lithe grace. But in your defense, they were standing right in front of you and you’d already reread your book at least five times in the past, so it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the scene in front of you had been.

“You look awfully comfortable over there,” Rooster called out with a raised eyebrow.

“Just taking in the view,” you’d teased back.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” he huffed as Bob finished up, giving him a thanks, man before tossing you back the bottle of sunscreen. He’d nudged his sunglasses down his nose and pinned you with his gaze, “Let me know if you want me to get your back. My hands are just as capable as his.” Even in the high heat of summer, the way he’d looked at you sent chills running along your arms.

You felt the way his keen eyes traveled from your face, down the deep-v of your swimsuit and along the swells of your breasts, and down your legs to your freshly painted toes. His mouth had ticked up in the corner then left you reeling and your heart pounding away in your chest as he’d strut off to go join Fanboy and Coyote by the mountain of snacks.

And that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. You never knew if he was just flirt-y or flirt-ing.

You hadn’t had a crush in ages, but when Nat had introduced you to her team five months ago, the man with the sunkissed curls and surprisingly attractive mustache had immediately caught your eye.

And as you’d gotten to know him, it had only gotten worse.

Not only was he very nice to look at and could make you laugh until your sides ached, but he also he had depth about him in a way that most men your age didn’t. You liked talking to him and listening to his stories. You liked learning his perspective on things. You liked being around him.

He made you feel interesting and special and funny and seen. You’ve never felt as comfortable in your own skin as you did when you were around him.

Rooster would send you flirty winks, give you less than subtle once overs, and could flash you such devastating slow grins that they’d have you trying to catch the butterflies they released in your stomach for hours after you went home.

But he’s never made a move.

If only he wouldn’t play hide and seek with his true intentions.

You felt like you were still waiting on some small clue whether he was serious or not. You didn’t know if he was just having fun with you or if he was into you and it was more than just friendly banter. It would be so much easier if he’d straight up tell you one way or another.

Needless to say, you’d let Nat be the one to help you with your sunscreen a little bit later. The idea of Bradley’s big hands on you, gliding along your sun-warmed skin and under the crisscross straps of your swimsuit, was too much for your hummingbird heart.

The sun climbed higher into the sky as the butter yellow midmorning transformed into a Midas-touched golden afternoon.

The squad had been able to reserve a fire pit and the plan had been to stay until the sunset. An endless summer day stretching out before them like a cat. They had nothing but time.

Clusters of people came together and split apart like a kaleidoscope as some went to take a dip in the ocean or raid the cooler and snack spread or go for a walk along the shore. Changing and shifting with the direction of the wind, going where the mood took them.

And for a peaceful moment, it had been you with your book and a napping Bradley sprawled out next to you on your towel with his arm flung over his eyes. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, almost but not quite touching. The sound of his soft breaths and the waves their own kind of lullaby as you contentedly read your book, turning your pages quietly to not disturb the man next to you, as the droplets of the Pacific dried on your skin.  

You still don’t know how you got roped into playing a round of dogfight football with the Navy’s best and brightest. You were more of a corn hole or ladder toss kind of girl, but Coyote had all but thrown you over his shoulder and dragged you out before you’d agreed to participate, conceding your defeat.

You were on a team with Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy against Nat, Rooster, Payback, and Bob. A few plays in and you had been getting the hang of it. They’d all been making sure to take care to go easy on you even in the chaos of two teams playing offensively and defensively at the same time. You were more than a little out of breath, but you were having fun.

Before the next snap, Mickey gave the most impassioned pep talk you’d ever heard, “Fuck luck, we don’t need luck. We gotta fucking win.” You had been about to laugh, but then you’d seen the looks on Jake and Javy’s faces and decided against it. Curious about the other team, you’d glanced over only to see Rooster looking back at you.

The calls had been made, the blur of plays in motion as people whirled and dodged and sprinted.

You’d just lobbed the ball to Javy before darting around Nat when a big, solid body collided with you. Hard. You’d felt the twinge of your ankle twisting in the sand right before the force sent you flying in the opposite direction you’d been headed.

The impact had been jarring. The air knocked from your lungs.

Where you should have been met with a mouthful of gritty sand, instead your head had connected with the rough surface of a partially buried rock. The low, thick thud reverberating throughout your whole body.

You’d been so stunned that you didn’t even register you were even on the ground until you heard the chorus of oh fucks and holy shits and goddamns and jesus christs over the ringing in your ears.

The game coming to an immediate and conclusive end.

For how many empty bottles and cans were sitting collected in a trash bag off to the side of your beach set up, they had been surprisingly quick to act as you blinked blankly, trying to clear the spots from your vision.

It was a silent ballet of efficiency as they instinctively fell into their roles, much like you imagined they did the sky. Everyone stepping up and then stepping back as they did their part, like the ebb and flow of waves.

Nat had carefully poured some fresh water from a bottle on your face to remove the sand that clung to the sweat and sunscreen on your skin. Then Jake had wordlessly passed her his clean spare shirt he’d jogged of to get to help stop the bleeding after Javy checked on your pupils to make sure they were the same size. While Bob stood off to the side holding your warped sunglasses in his hands, as if he was hopeful they could still be salvaged. Mickey and Reuben had been waiting in the wings giving you space, ready to help if they were needed, but not wanting to not crowd in.

And from the corner of your eye, you’d caught Rooster standing a couple feet away with his hands in his hair looking absolutely wrecked.

“Bradley?” you’d tried, even though his name stuck to your teeth. But he’d just shook his head at you before turning away slightly, like he couldn’t look at you, which made your heart sting as well.

They only allowed you to move to sit up after they were content with the answer to their questions- What day is it? Friday. Where are you? San Diego. What else hurts? My ankle and my pride.

It wasn’t until someone hauled you up from underneath your armpits that the throbbing and stinging and aching settled over you. The pain seeping and spreading through muscle and bone like an inky oil spill.

It’s still an almost perfect summer afternoon except for the fact you hate everything about this.

You hate the way they’re gathered around you with too many pairs of assessing eyes pinned on you. You hate that you’re the reason the game of dogfight football came to a definitive and abrupt end. You hate that you’re the reason their carefree and fun afternoon off has turned into this.

There’s a pressure building behind your eyes, the hot tears of hurt and frustration and embarrassment are clamoring to be released. You have to bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

And it doesn’t help that you’re the type who’d rather lick your wounds in peace.

You just need to get back to your car and you can figure things out on your own from there. You just need a moment to yourself.

As you open your mouth to argue your case again, Jake puts his hand up and stops you before you’ve even had a chance to start, “I hate to break it to you, sugar, but you’re not fooling any of us.” He says it gently, but gives you a pointed look at the way you’re leaning heavily on your right leg to keep the pressure off of your left ankle.

“That head wound is not a little scratch. Just like your ankle isn’t just a little puffy, when it’s twice the size it should be. You need to go to the Emergency Room,” Nat says, final and resolute. A lifetime of friendship has taught you not to argue when she has that look in her eyes, the one that says try me, I dare you.

They all talk over you as they figure out who is the most sober of the group after your suggestion to call yourself an Uber is immediately shot down. Drinks are being counted on fingers, and memories are searched to make sure every sip and bottle and can is accounted for.

Your eyes drift over to the man who is still actively avoiding looking at you, even as he talks to everyone else on the team. You aren’t paying too close attention to what he is saying, but you can hear the short, clipped staccato of his words.

Bradley’s shoulders are tinged a little pink even though you know for a fact that you had purposely passed him the 65 SPF. His eyes are hidden behind his dark green tinted sunglasses, but you don’t need to see them when you can read his body language better than any book.

His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, the tendons in his forearms flexing and shifting, like he is squeezing and releasing his fists from where they’re tucked under his biceps. Everything in his body looks coiled tight and strained, so at odds with the easy going and loose-limbed man you know him to be.

You don’t realize just how much you’ve zoned out until Natasha has to say your name a couple time before you pull your gaze away from Bradley and back to her.

“Ok, it’s settled,” Nat informs you, “Rooster’s going to take you.” You barely nod your head in acknowledgement when she tells you, because it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach now too.

“It’s the least he can do,” Jake drawls.

“That’s not fair-” you start, defensively.

“Fuck off, Bagman-” Rooster snaps.

The rage in his voice shocks you, you’ve never heard that much heat from him before. There’s none of the teasing tone that usually underscores their banter. Jake puts both of his hands up placatingly like my bad, folks and Javy just shakes his head and sighs.

And this time when you look at Bradley, he is finally looking back at you with a deep furrow in his brow. His jaw is clenched tight, that muscle ticking and jumping, as he takes in the way you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your forehead.

Not exactly the way you’d hoped he’d be looking at you when you put on your new blue and white striped swimsuit this morning.

The one you’d bought because you wanted to make him look.

Just not like this.

With everything sorted the rest of the team trickles away a smattering of take cares and get better soons and let us know if you need anythings. But not before Mickey hands Rooster his stuff and passes Nat your bag and sandals. He gives you the gentlest of squeezes on your shoulder before he leaves to join everyone else back on little part of the beach you all had claimed before things went to shit.

Your group of eight now downsized to a trio.

Bradley is quick to roughly pull on his tank and shirt, and Nat fishes out your car keys from your bag as she waits for him to slip his shoes on. When he’s ready she passes it to him and he silently slides it over his arm.

Nat bends down to help gingerly glide your feet into your sandals, “I’ll grab the rest your things and drop them off at your place and then one of the boys will drop off your car later. We’ve got it all covered, ok?”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say quietly, trying to hold back a wince as she slips the left one on, your ankle pulsing in tempo with your heartbeat.

“Best friends don’t say thank you, they just do,” she says matter-of-factly as she stands. It’s the same thing you’d told her after you’d dumped a carton of strawberry milk on Carly Radke for outing Natasha your freshman year in high school. It was only time you’d ever gotten detention, but it had been worth it.

“They just do,” you repeat with a small smile.

You’re so grateful that your friendship with her is one that has spanned years. That you’ve been able seen one another grow and change and come into their own, but that you haven’t outgrown each other. She’s the person you want by your side and having your back. There is no one quite like Natasha Trace.

She turns to Bradley and you watch him stand a little taller under her sharp eyes, your straw tote still dangling from his forearm.

“You good?” Nat asks him with a look in her eye that you can’t place. And you’re reminded that even though she’s your best friend, that he has also earned a spot as one of her closest friends. Their relationship built over years and experiences that you could never fully understand. Different, but just as deep.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her. I’ll take care of her,” Rooster promises with a stiff nod, as he gives her his word. It might have made your heart beat a little faster if you didn’t feel like such a burden. That it’s simply a twist of fate and three less drinks than everyone else for the reason that he’s the one to look after you. That he’s the one stuck with you.

“I know you will,” she says softer now, patting his shoulder, “Keep me posted.” Nat presses a kiss to your cheek and gives you an encouraging smile then heads off to go rejoin everyone else.

You watch her go with longing. The cheerful beach set up with its colorful blankets and umbrellas looks more like a desert mirage now. The sweet coconut scented potential of what the day could have been now forever out of reach.

And then it’s just you and Bradley and the sound of the waves and cries of seagulls.

The two of you silent and motionless.

You feel one wrong move and the fragile attempt of the stiff upper lip you’ve cocooned yourself in will crack open and all the soft parts of you will seep out into the sand beneath your feet.

His expression is shuttered closed as he bends a bit like he is going to pick you up.

“Woah, buddy, what are you doing?” You’re squinting into the sun as you look at him. You’d step into his shadow to block it, since you’re now in need of a new pair of sunglasses, but that would mean moving to the left which isn’t an option with your ankle.

“Buddy,” he grunts under his breath, slipping off his sunglasses and carefully putting them on your face, being mindful of stinging scrapes and wad of soft cotton you’re holding to your head. “They’re definitely going to have to run concussion protocol on you,” he mutters more to himself than to you, “I’m taking you to the Bronco and then we’re going the ER, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, Rooster,” you grit out, even rolling your eyes hurts, “But I don’t need you to carry me.”

Everything about this was excruciating and embarrassing enough without him being the Clark Gable to your Vivian Leigh. Maybe you could lean on him and hop over to his car? Like a six-foot-one pair of crutches with good hair.

“Take a step without wincing and I’ll think about it,” he says firmly, pointedly calling your bluff. There’s an expectant look of go on then, whenever you’re ready on his face. Because he knows he’s right, and you do too.

You don’t even bother to make a move, but the way your lower lips wobbles speaks volumes.

“That’s what I thought,” he says quietly, almost like pains him to be right.

He bends a little to hook his arms around your knees and back to lift you up, and this time you let him. Your free arm automatically wrapping around the back of his neck. And he starts off towards the winking windshields of the parking lot.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to be wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, how good it would feel to be pressed closed against him. And now you are and it’s nothing like you’ve imagined, because there isn’t anything sweet or swoon-worthy about how you ended up in them. You’re his duty, you’re not his desire.

All your sandcastle hopes have been washed away by the tide.

You’re so frustrated. You’re frustrated by the day, by yourself, by him.

This time you can’t blink back the tears that well up in your eyes. They flood through your tear ducts carving hot trails down your sun-tinged cheeks.

You want the Bradley from earlier. 

The one who stole your watermelon with warmth in his eyes.

The one who dozed next to you in the sun like a cat, his features soft free of the tension he now holds in his shoulders.

You want your Bradley.

The one who’d whispered cheeky comments in your ear whenever the team got into lighthearted tequila fueled arguments about things like whether a hot dog was a sandwich.

The one who’d always go up to the bar with you on busy nights at the Hard Deck and make sure you didn’t get bumped into on the way back to your friends with your freshly refilled drinks.

You’re aching, aching. Everywhere.

For a brief moment, as you swipe at your tears, you’re happy for the throbbing in your head and ankle, so that way you don’t have to think about the stinging in your heart.

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting,” Rooster says gentle and low as you sniffle, but you can hear the thickness of the words in his throat. The term of endearment is the sweetest of nothings, making your tears come faster. Where it should ease the heartache, all it does is make you angry at yourself for giving your emotions away. “We’re almost to the Bronco. It’s ok, we’re gonna get you taken care of, I promise.”

We.

You wanted that with him.

You want to press both of your hands to his cheeks to make him look you in the eyes to ask him is it going to be you and me together?  You’ve been a fool for love before, but you didn’t know if could take another hit-and-run with your heart.

The salt of your tears makes your cheeks feel tight and itchy as the summer breeze dries them on your skin.

Bradley carries you like you weigh nothing, but cradles you like you’re the most precious things he’s ever held. He’s mindful of any dips in the sand and gives wide berth around the college kids playing volleyball close to the entry back to the parking lot.

When he reaches the Bronco, he sets you down gently, making sure both of your feet are planted on the asphalt before letting go of you to unlock his car. He tells you to wait a moment when you move to open the passenger side door.

“I never know when I might get called up for an emergency deployment, so I like to have some extra clothes just in case,” he explains as he digs around in the backseat, pulling out a pair of gray athletic shorts.

“Oh.” And you realize you’re still just clad in your striped swimsuit. “Thank you for sparing me from the hospital germs,” you say lightly, an attempt at a joke to break the ice. One that doesn’t land, since instead of cracking a grin he just presses his lips together in a firm line and nods.

Bradley crouches low in front of you and you put a hand on his shoulder for balance as you lean against the Bronco, still trying to keep as much pressure off your left ankle as possible as you step into them. He’s looking up at you and even through his sunglasses perched on your nose, you swear his brown eyes get a shade darker as he eases the shorts up your legs. You’re touched by the effort as he ties the strings in a lopsided bow, even if things are feeling tense between the two of you.

“Think this’ll be easier,” he mumbles shrugging off his light blue button up. You’ve always liked this one, with its soft pastel pink and minty green watercolor prints of net fishermen and hula girls and palm trees.

He holds it open for you, helping you thread your arm through it, and then takes over holding Jake’s now ruined shirt to your head so that you can get your other arm past the sleeve. It smells like him, citrus and amber. Your fingers brush against each other when you reclaim the makeshift bandage, and he adjusts his shirt so that it hangs over your shoulders just right.

It’s an awkward kind silent as Rooster helps lift you into the Bronco with his strong hands around your hips. He is all smooth efficiency as he buckles you in with a click. You pass him back his sunglasses the same moment he hands you your tote bag, and it almost feels like a hostage exchange.

He says nothing as he hauls himself into the driver’s side. The car rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition and a cheery song from the 80’s station on the radio comes on. Bradley quick to turn the volume down low. His thumb brushing your shoulder as he sets his hand on the back of your seat to look behind him as he carefully backs out of the spot.

It’s never felt this strained with him before.

It’s so painfully obvious that the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. You can almost feel the wall that’s gone up around him. The white noise of the radio drowned out by the hum of the road as he drives in near silence.

Your day has been most effectively ruined by a chunk of sedimentary rock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still recoup what’s left of it.

He could still have the perfect summer afternoon.

He could still go back to your friends and their perfect beach set up and laugh with them as Coyote keeps accidentally setting marshmallows on fire. He could still catch the bold oranges and soft pinks of the sunset with all the satisfied contentment he deserved to experience.

“You can leave me and go back, you know. I’ll be ok if you just want drop me off and then head back to the beach,” you say looking down at your fingers as you trace the stitching of his leather seats.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you glance over at him. The vein in his neck is standing out boldly against the column of his throat.

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who would leave someone at the ER alone?” he asks, his voice rougher than sandpaper.

“No. No, of course not,” you say emphatically, “That’s why I’m giving you permission.”

“Permission?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

“Yes, permission,” you say, clipped.

You’re giving him an out, why doesn’t he get that?

He heaves a big sigh and grunts. “Is it… Would you rather have Bob- with his big hands- here instead?” Bradley asks, frustration leaking out around the edges of his words.

“Bob with his big hands?” you repeat baffled, “What does Bob have to do with anything about this?”

“That’s what you said earlier, sweetheart. I’m just citing the source. Or I can call Phoenix? Or…” he pauses glancing at the t-shirt pressed to your head, “Or even Seresin. Once we get you checked in I can call any of them an Uber or something, and they can be there with you, if you don’t want me.”

“No, Rooster, I don’t want anyone else.” You wince at the implication and hope it doesn’t read into it further than the current situation to two of you are wading through like quick sand.

“Ok, good,” he grumbles.

“Great,” you lob back.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white, “Then where is this even coming from?” The action makes his thick forearm flex in this most delicious of ways that you’d appreciate more if you didn’t feel the anger simmering low in your stomach.

“It’s pretty damn clear that you’d rather be back there, Rooster. Or literally anywhere else right now.” You flip down the sun visor with more force than it deserves, regretting that you gave him his sunglasses back when the bright California sun in your eyes turns your headache into a full-blown migraine.

“Of course, I’d rather be anywhere else!” he says hotly, tossing his sunglasses back in your lap, “Do you think I like that you’re hurt and that we’re on our way to the hospital?” You shove them on your face with an angry huff.

A car speeds by blaring their horn as they pass by.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” he grunts but speed of the Bronco doesn’t change, “Asshole.”

Bradley’s driving five miles under the posted limit, and you know for a fact he religiously drives at least ten miles over. And his turns have been smoother than butter, as if he is trying not to jostle you anymore than you’d already been today.

You are so tired of this hot and cold thing that he’s doing. His words and his deeds weren’t going hand in hand. He keeps giving you the cold shoulder, but is also so in tune with your every movement and need.

Gingerly, you angle yourself in your seat to look at him better, resting your tired left arm on the back of your seat and taking in his strong profile.

“Why are you being like this?” you demand, waving your free hand in a vaguely in his general direction.

“Like what? I’m not being like anything,” he retorts, making the same vague hand gesture as you did a moment earlier.

And oh, if that doesn’t fill your chest with hot indignation. That low simmering anger has turned into a full roiling boil as you shift in your seat trying to get your ankle in a position where it doesn’t hurt.

“Seriously, Rooster? I can feel tension rolling off of you in waves. You’ve been like this since everything turned to complete shit on the beach. I didn’t mean to ruin your day, I’m just trying to figure out how to make things better,” you bite out unable to keep things bottled up anymore.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Are you kidding me right now? You think you ruined my day?” He glances from the road to you and back again, his brown eyes wide and searching.

“Yes?” Or so you’d thought until you’d seen the shock written all over his face, but now you weren’t so sure. It’s like you’ve dumped ice water on him instead of simply calling him out. “I feel like you’re taking it out on me and I don’t know why.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rooster swears under his breath, shaking his head. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart. I’m mad at myself, because I ruined your day.  I should have been more careful, I should have been looking out for you. It’s not like you’re hard to miss in that swimsuit.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment, but you choose to ignore it.

Misery drips from his words like spilled ink off a page. You knew he was upset, but you didn’t realize he was upset about that. That he’s shouldering this fluke of fate as if it is his burden to bear. Some of the anger you’ve been feeling leaves your body like the tide washing out back out to sea. You’re still upset at him for how he has been acting up until this point, but you’re not mad at him about that.

“Bradley, no. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, an accident I’m responsible for,” he says hoarsely, rubbing roughly at his forehead. “God, I can still hear the sound it made when you hit that rock and it makes me feel sick. I would give anything to undo that moment. I need you to know that.”

He is being so hard on himself and your heart squeezes, this time in sympathy rather than hurt. He didn’t place that rock in the sand, the both of you were victims of circumstance.

“It could have happened to anyone. It could have been anyone,” you press delicately, trying to get him to hear you, shifting in your seat again still uncomfortable.

The sunshine bounces off of his slumped shoulders as he sighs raggedly.

“But it happened to you and it’s my fault. You’re bleeding, you’re in pain, and you’ve been crying. And it’s because of me.” He reaches down with his right hand and lifts up your leg so that you can rest it on his thigh, some of the ache alleviating immediately. He asks quietly, “That better?”

“Yes, thank you,” you murmur. He looks so upset, and all you want to do is curl into his lap. You want to hold him and you want to be held by him. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

You expect him to move his hand back to the steering wheel, but he keeps it on your leg. His thumb stroking your still slightly sandy shin. Your cheery toenail polish at odds with the color blooming around your ankle.

Bradley’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, “Yeah, I do. I know that. But I still blame myself.”

The Bronco rolls to a soft stop at the light. There’s enough traffic that you know you’ll be here for a bit, and so does he since he turns in his seat to look fully at you. You take his sunglasses off, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt that rests above your heart, so nothing stands between his brown eyes and yours.

“So, you’re going to keep beating yourself up over it and icing me out? Making me feel worse? For what, Bradley? Because you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s not fair to me or to you.”

“Shit,” he mutters, his left hand running through his curls. “You’re right and I’m so sorry. I’ve been in my head feeling so damn guilty that I’ve been such an asshole. Can you forgive me?”

You’re about to answer him that when a horn startles you, making you jump in the leather seat. You see the light is green, the car that had been in front of you is gliding through the intersection passing under a blue sign pointing the way to the hospital.

“Bradley, the light.”

The car behind the two of you honks their horn again.

“They can wait. This is important, you are important. Do you forgive me?” There’s an underscore of need that punctuates his question.

“Yes, of course,” you say easily and sincerely. There’s so much remorse in his eyes, you would have forgiven him with that look alone.

“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief. And then he smiles at you for the first time since the beach and that ache in your heart is completely soothed, bandaged by that soft way he is looking at you.

Atlas no longer, he can simply be Bradley.

He takes his foot off the brake and by some miracle he’s able to make it through the light before it turns red again. You can see the tall structure of the parking lot near the hospital poking out above the line of the treetops.

The destination is closer than ever, but there are still things on your mind.

“And you aren’t an asshole, Bradley. But your bedside manner could definitely use some work,” you tease with a smile of your own.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to show you my bedside manner, but you keep holding me at arm’s length,” he groans dramatically.

The idea of experiencing Bradley Bradshaw’s bedside manner makes you feel all kinds of weak in the knees, even as you’re seated in his Bronco with your leg propped up in his lap, his big hand skating up and down along your shin comfortingly.

“How can you even say that with a straight face? You’ve never made a move!” you exclaim incredulously, “I was even the one to ask for your phone number, if you remember.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I hit on you all the time,” he argues with your favorite brand of Bradshaw banter, “I’ve been waiting for you to give me the green light, sweetheart.”

“I thought you were supposed to be pretty and smart,” you smirk.

He barks a laugh and the last tendrils of all the tension and all the pressure that had been swirling around you like a marine layer evaporates.

“You saying I’ve had the green light this whole time?” He looks over at you with a boyish smile, you like the way you feel when he looks at you like this.

“What I’m saying, Bradley, is if you’d have actually asked me out I would have said yes.” You press your toes into the muscle of his thick thigh and immediately regret it, wincing as pain ripples around your ankle.

He makes a sympathetic sound deep in his chest, “Sounds like I’ve been an idiot.”

“A very pretty one,” you allow, leaning your aching head back against the back seat.

“At least there’s that,” he concedes good-naturedly as he pulls into the parking lot, turning on his blinker for a spot opening up near the entrance to the Emergency Room by some twist of fate, one that’s in your favor this time.

Bradley pulls into the empty spot and kills the engine turning to you. He gently eases your foot back down onto the sandy floormat of the Bronco and leans into unbuckle your seatbelt.

He’s so close now looking up at you from under his eyelashes, and your breath catches in your throat. He moves closer, you can see the bits of hazel that surround his pupils. Your eyes flutter close and you tilt your head up, lips parting at the anticipation of his kiss.

There’s no holding back the noise of dissatisfaction you make when his lips press a tender kiss to your cheek. You lean into him wanting to feel, wanting him to give you more. His warm breath coasts over your skin as he chuckles. You can feel the way his lips are pulled up into a smile.

“I’m a gentleman, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls away, his eyes lingering on your lips. “My mom raised me not to go for the kiss on the first date. Or ones with head wounds and potential concussions.”

“Some first date,” you lament jokingly, looking in at the fluorescent lights awaiting you inside the hospital. You’d rather skip over this part entirely, but you’re ready to be done with holding Jake’s shirt to your head. “Nothing like insurance cards and scrubs to really set the mood.”

“Mmm. How about this, after we’re done here, I’ll take you through whatever drive-thru you want-”

“In-N-Out,” you cut in without a second thought. The novelty of it still hasn’t worn off on you, even if the fries are terrible.

“Ok,” he grins, “I’ll take you through in In-N-Out and get you your number two combo with mustard and grilled onions with a vanilla shake.” He pauses waiting for your nod of approval, looking more than pleased with himself when you acknowledge he got your order right.

“I like the sound of this so far,” you hum.

“Well that’s good. Since it’ll be our first date, I want to set that bar high,” he says giving you a wink. And there are those butterflies again, this time you don’t try to catch them with a net. They’re free to flutter around as they wish.

“If you really want to impress me, you’ll also take me through the McDonald’s drive-thru for their fries,” you muse.

“Done.”

“I was kidding,” you laugh, shaking your head at him disbelievingly and thoroughly charmed.

“Well, I wasn’t. So after we get you fed, give or take some fries, I will bring you home. I’ll get you whatever you need, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. Think you might be on crutches for a bit, sweetheart,” he says softly, playing with the ends of your hair. “And then in the morning, if you’re up for it, I’ll take you out for breakfast. Or bring you breakfast. Whatever you want. We can call that date number two.”

“And then you’ll kiss me?”

“And then I’ll kiss you,” he promises, offering you a crooked pinky finger. You beam and you wrap your own around his.

He slips out of the driver’s seat leaving you to contemplate the terms of his offer as he rounds the front of the Bronco. The nurses are going to get an eyeful of him in only those snug jean shorts and thin white tank. You make a mental note to avoid looking at him if they have to connect you to a heart rate monitor, he doesn’t need to know the effect he has on you. Not yet anyways.

“I have counteroffer,” you announce turning your body towards him as he opens your door for you.

“Let’s hear it, baby,” he says with a grin that almost makes you forget how bad your head and ankle hurt, “Shoot.”

“We still go to In-N-Out, but then in the morning you make me breakfast in bed with some of those famous Bradshaw pancakes I’ve heard about,” you say, as he steps in between your legs, “Seems like a good way to work on that bedside manner of yours.”

“I think you’re going to like my bedside manner, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

You tilt your head at him, taking in the sunkissed strands in his hair and the affection in his eyes, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Guess we will,” he rasps.

Rooster drops another sweet kiss to your cheek, whispering for you to stay put, and then he struts off towards the automatic doors of the Emergency Room. Leaving you alone with the butterflies in your stomach and the hope in your heart.

You dig your phone out of your straw tote and check the time, doing the math in your head.

There are a few messages from Nat and other people on the team already checking in, but you know you’ll have time to reply to them later as you wait with Bradley sitting by your side.

You look up and see he’s got a wheelchair now and is making his way back to you, wearing a soft smile on his face just for you.

Only seventeen more hours until you get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw and you can’t wait.

You’ve got that forever feeling about him.

Oh, oh, oh.

Thank you for reading! Rock on. Oh that joke was schist, I'll see myself out.

This was written as part of @roosterforme's Rocktober Playlist! You can check out all the other great submissions here!

The song that inspired this story was Paula Abdul's "Straight Up"

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[wcters]

𝟳 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬/𝗡 𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗨𝗧𝗘

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: a video that someone put together of moments where you and matt where being cute

warnings/notes: established relationship, swearing, pda, i’m trying to be inclusive so please let me know what i can do that i haven’t done already!

In the beginning, you could say you were kept a secret, but only because you didn’t want to be in the public that early in your relationship. Besides that, your and Matt’s relationship was never kept hidden. Matt loved you and liked to show you off, but you weren’t a social media person. You were fine with being in the background of things and posted on his social media, but you wanted your private life to stay private. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to date an influencer, and you had no problem with it as long as he respected your wishes, and he did.

You didn’t even know he was an influencer when you met, not being on TikTok a lot. You were working ━━ and still are ━━ at a clothing store in LA when you first bumped into each other ━━ quite literally. You were coming out of the back when he backed up into you. You both apologized and went back to what you were doing. You asked your co-worker if she knew who he was because you thought he was attractive. She told you he had been there a couple times before but didn’t know his name. When you were ringing him through, you gave him his receipt. He grabbed it, wrote something on it, and handed it back to you. Low and behold, it had his phone number and name on it.

Ever since then, you two had been . . . You. You immediately kicked it off, going on dates and hanging out, finding out about how he was a triplet ━━ you assumed after seeing the three of them in the store ━━ and finding out he was famous. You used that word, he denied and told you he wouldn’t call it that making you laugh. You had moved to LA for school, and told him that you wanted your private life to stay private if you got together . . . And it did.

You did end up being in the background of videos and livestreams, posted online, and you did feature in a podcast episode, but you never expected videos or compilations of you or matt, let alone just you, so you were surprised when you saw a video titled 7 minutes of Y/n and Matt being cute. You have to admit you smiled and took a screenshot, planning to show Matt when you next saw him. You would wait if you weren’t impatient . . . But you were. He could watch it later. You hadn’t really had a clue as to what would be in it. You didn’t really pay attention to clips of you or you Matt. You had Matt as your boyfriend to experience those moments.

The first series of clips to show up was the many times you had walked in to Matt’s room while he was streaming, and not realizing until you stopped looking at your phone and saw him looking at you. This was always followed by your voice off camera apologizing and him replying with ‘it’s alright babe. You need me to get off?’ He always asked you that when you walked in, not wanting to put the stream over you, and he never did. If you said no, you’d either lie down in his bed and go on your phone or head out to the couch to watch a movie. If you said yes ━━ which you rarely did unless you had a bad day ━━ he would immediately end his stream with a quick goodbye and his attention was on you in an instant.

There were multiple times where you had to help the boys with something for a video. Whether it was setting something up, figuring something out, etc. you were always there. Sometimes it was off camera, sometimes Nick would cut it out, but this time it wasn’t. You remembered them filming this video, being over there when it happened to help if needed and make sure nothing bad happened (them burning another house down).

The three of them had managed to get it out of the box and bag and get it into the right position, but not how to get some of the poles in. “Maybe we should ask Y/n?” Chris suggested as he held up the tent. “No, we don’t need to.” Matt shut down the question as he fiddled with the metal pole. The oldest and youngest were caught looking at each other before they both yelled ‘Y/n!’ You were seen running in, panic in your eyes before you realized nothing bad had happened. “You scared the shit out of me,” you told them, half scolding them, “either way, what’s up?”

“We need help.” Nick smiled, holding up the tent. “You don’t know how to set up a tent?” “We do, it’s just a bit more confusing inside.” Chris answered. “I had nothing to do with this.” Matt butted in, hands up in defense. “Alright. Back up.” You noticed why Nick maybe kept it in as you watched the clip. You were instructing Nick and Chris who were holding up the tent as Matt was gathering more poles. When you asked him to pass you one, you kissed him on the cheek as a thank you forgetting you were on camera. After that, Matt had looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars. To Nick and Chris, you did as you had help them set this whole thing up. To Matt . . . He was just admiring his girlfriend.

After you had gotten together, it became second nature for him to let you know if he was coming up behind you. His hands would grab your waist while he made his passed you. It was seen in the background of multiple TikToks. You didn’t really notice it happening after the first few times because it had become so normal for you, but clips of these motions had made it into the video. You didn’t think those were caught on camera . . . But you didn’t really mind. You thought maybe part of it was because of you how you met, but you really didn’t know, and you’ve never asked.

The next clip was one you’d never forget. When Nick and Chris asked you to help them prank Matt . . . How could you say no? You would never be involved if it was something bad, and this one wasn’t. You knew about Matt’s “crush” on Liam Neeson ━━ having had an idea before he ever admitted it by the amount of times you watched movies and Liam Neeson just happened to be in it ━━ and almost laughed when they told you the idea.

They had asked you to distract him for a long enough time that they could set up all of the pictures, blankets, etc. You wouldn’t say this to Matt’s face, but his room was a little boring - he had the same black pillows and comforter. Without any of your stuff that you had “left” in the room, you were worried about what it would look like. When it got closer to the time that you would be heading back to the house, you had started to get excited. Matt had noticed this and asked what was up, so you had to play it cool . . . You aren’t good at that and you ended up texted Nick and Chris saying something along the lines of ‘he knows somethings up, I don’t have a poker face.” Either way, he didn’t have a clue what was happening.

Your and Matt’s footsteps could be heard through the camera as you made your way toward the door. Matt had texted his brothers and when they didn’t answer, tried to FaceTime them. That’s what could be seen when Matt opened his bedroom door with you behind him smiling. “Oh . . . my god.” Matt spoke, shock on his face. Chris and Nick laughed in response. “This is the prank?” He asked them, “Liam Neeson all over my bedroom is the prank?” The boys nodded. “Wait - Were you in on this?” Matt asked as he turned to you walking toward him and into the room. “‘Maybe.” You shrugged. “I knew something was up,” he wrapped his arms around you as you walked, “you were acting weird.” “I don’t have a good poker face!”

Matt continued to look around the room before Chris turned his camera to face you. “How do you feel about this?” “Well, it’s just a little more Liam Neeson than normal, but it spices’s his room up a little bit more.” “Totally.” Nick agreed.

You had a habit of leaving your things with Matt. Most of the time, it was due to the lack of much needed pockets in women’s pants. When you didn’t ━━ or forgot to ━━ bring a purse, you’d ask him to throw a chapstick or a hair tie into his pocket or wallet. Other times, you were just too lazy to carry something and didn’t want to stick it in your bra.

You also tended to get Matt little keychains to hang on his backpack or car keys. Most of the keychains were from when you went back to Canada to visit your family and bought him something, but you also liked to thrift them too. He would always take them and immediately put them on something. It was his way of silently showing that your his girlfriend and that he loves you, and the things you do for him. Giving him things was your way of saying he’s yours too.

When they posted the TikTok of guess who’s is who, you expected them to only do their things because it was about them, but you were surprised when you saw little bits of you in there. A Canada keychain hanging on his car keys and backpack, a hair tie with his jewelry, and chapstick with his skincare. The comments were flooded with people talking and mentioning you, knowing which one was Matt’s stuff. You smiled when you saw this being featured, and your comment that said ‘girlfriend duties”.

When you had featured on the Cut the Camera Podcast, you had mentioned the Let’s Trip and Versus tour and how you and Matt had to do long distance for a bit. You went to a few of their shows - being flied out per Matt’s request ━━ but because fn your job, you couldn’t be with them the full time. When they were on tour, it felt like you and Matt never saw each other, but in reality you two spoke almost all the time. To some people, Matt could be described as clingy, but you were too . . . And you didn’t mind that about each other.

You never knew that your FaceTime’s were ever caught in camera, but they were in this video, so you guess they were. The boys had done vlogs on the bus, as well as TikTok’s, and this video showed Matt talking to his phone that showed a blurry you. You didn’t even spot that. You could hear you and Matt talking, but too quietly to make out what you were talking about. Long distance was always hard for you and Matt, but you made it work. You would be stupid not to.

When the boys travelled for videos, you usually didn’t go. Not that you didn’t want to, but you had a job in LA and couldn’t be travelling all the time. But when Matt, Nick and Chris asked you to come with them to Texas to shoot a video for Sam and Colby and tour the city, you said yes. You’ve been to a couple of states in the U.S. and thought ‘why not?’ to visiting Texas. Plus, Matt had talked about that amazing thrift store they went to while on your and you were a sucker for vintage.

You didn’t feature in the Sam and Colby video ━━ besides little bits of you in the background ━━ and offered to film if they needed someone to. Matt was scared, and wanted you there. Nick had gushed to you about him wanting to do the Estes method, and you and him wanted you to witness it. You did, however, feature in the Texas vlog the triplets put out on their channel - being seen in the background. But this clip was a specific one from the video.

You were used to the cold, having grown up in Canada, and handled it pretty well. But one night when you went out for Italian, you didn’t dress well enough for the weather. You didn’t think Texas would be that cold . . . But you assumed wrong. While Nick and Chris were talking to the camera, you were in the background shivering with Matt beside you. You were in a long sleeve, vest, and sweatpants. Your legs were warm, you upper body? Not so much.

“You alright?” Matt asked you, moving behind you to wrap his arms around you. “Yeah, a little cold. But it’s fine.” You replied, leaning into him. Matt was like a walking heater. “You sure? You want to switch jackets?” He leaned his chin on your head, swaying you back and fourth. “I’m alright, but thank you. You’re too sweet.” Your conversation wasn’t heard by the camera, but your movements were. Matt could be seen moving his hands up and down your arms and holding your hand as you walked into the place.

You and Matt had similar, but different music tastes. You would recommend each other songs and made playlists, as well as a playlist you both shared with music you both liked. You two would listen to this constantly; while hanging out, in the car, baking and cooking, just doing regular tasks. Matt had given you some guilty pleasure songs, and you had given him some . . . Though he would have never admitted it to anyone besides you. That was until the truth or eat video.

“What is your guiltiest pleasure song and when was the last time you listened to and got into the groove?” Nick asked Matt. He paused, a couple songs immediately popping into his head. “I got to check,” he said as he took out his phone and opened your shared playlist. “This is one that Y/n showed me one time and she loves it.” Matt clicked the song and it started to play. “That sounds like Y/n,” Chris nodded as Nick agreed. “Yeah, that would be my guilty pleasure song. It’s one of her favourite songs so it’s on a lot.”

You remembered seeing a lot of top comments on the video taking about it and seeing the clip a couple times on TikTok with the comments being the same. The next clip after that one was an Instagram story you posted of you two in the car, Matt driving and lip-syncing to the song. Everyone had freaked out over that.

People would also freak out when you would wear his clothes. You had a habit of doing that, you lived oversized and Matt has Great style. TikTok’s and Instagram stories of you wearing a sweater or sweatpants that people recognized were Matt’s were also littered through the video as well. And moments of him slipping a sweater on you or turning you around to see if it was his.

A lot of the moments included in the compilation were just regular things that couples did . . . But you loved the video. You liked it, and sent it to Matt over text with the message ‘people must really like us’. Safe to say, the person who had made it freaked out.

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

[lyzsaphrodite]

༊*·˚ Home is Where the Heart is ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Dior Goodjohn x fem!reader

synopsis: You and Dior are long distanced and she decides to surprise you by coming to visit you for your birthday.

warnings: fluff, fluff, and fluff

a/n: this is not my best writing ever i just wanted to get this out while i work on the Summer fic

You and Dior have been in a long-distance relationship for about a year and a half now. You met on the set of Percy Jackson and instantly clicked; she ended up asking you out two months into filming. After season one wrapped, she went back home to LA, and you returned to your hometown. You haven't seen each other in person since filming wrapped six months ago, because you're still in school. You guys text multiple times a day and FaceTime at least once a day, but it's still hard for both of you. Especially for you since your love language is physical touch, and you just like to have physical connections with people. Your birthday was coming up, so Dior thought it would be an amazing idea if she came and surprised you. She planned it all out with your family; she would fly in on your actual birthday and stay for a month.

Today was finally your birthday. You woke up to look at your phone and found a bunch of birthday wishes from friends, family, and even fans. But none from the person that mattered most to you. You didn't think she would ever forget your birthday. Maybe she just wasn't awake yet, even though it was currently noon, which means it was 9 in LA, and she's always up before 9. But you just decided not to worry about it. You still had the whole day. You were really bummed that she wouldn't be able to come for your birthday, but you understand that she's busy with her music and everything. You got out of bed, took a shower, and got ready for the day. You and your best friend decided to go shopping for your birthday. You visited all your favorite stores, getting all of your birthday freebies. By the time you and your best friend headed home, it was around 4 o’clock, and you've yet to get a message from Dior, which made you visibly disappointed. Your best friend kept seeing you checking your messages every few minutes and finally decided to say something.

“I’m sure she didn't forget; you know her, she's always busy with something.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure everyone but her has wished me a happy birthday though. Like even at the mall, those fans who came up to us to say happy birthday, I didn't even know them. And I thought she would be one of the first to say it.”

You finally arrived home and went straight upstairs to put your bags down and take off your shoes. You were home for around 30 minutes when you finally heard the doorbell ring.

“Y/N, someone's here for you,” your mom yelled. You had no clue who it could be; you weren't expecting anyone.

“Coming!” you yelled back to your mom. You hurried down the stairs to the front door, and standing there was Dior with her bags and a gift. She looks just as beautiful as she always does.

“Hey, baby,” she said, smiling.

You had absolutely no idea how to react; you were definitely not expecting this at all. You ran to her and jumped to hug her. As she held and hugged you, you started to tear up.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you weren't able to come.”

“I wanted to surprise you, sweet girl.”

“How long are you staying?”

“For a month.”

“Oh my gosh, no way!”

“Way!”

“OMG, and Mom, you knew about this?”

Your mom just smiled and nodded.

“Yep, and so did your best friend.”

“OMG!! I cannot believe this; I thought you forgot my birthday!”

“I could never forget your birthday, mamas.”

You and Dior share a passionate kiss, the weight of her surprise visit lifting a heavy burden off your shoulders. In that moment, all the worries and doubts melted away, replaced by the warmth of her presence. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The month that followed was a whirlwind of joy and reconnection. Every day felt like a treasure, filled with laughter, adventures, and stolen moments of affection. Whether it was exploring your hometown together, cooking meals side by side, or simply cuddling on the couch watching movies, every second was cherished. On the day of her departure, you stood at the airport, hand in hand, hearts heavy with the weight of impending separation.

"I wish we lived closer," you managed to say, your voice breaking slightly as you fought back tears, the airport's din muffling your words.

Dior's eyes softened, mirroring the sorrow in your own as she squeezed your hand gently. "I know, darling. It's hard saying goodbye every time," she murmured, her voice tinged with empathy.

You leaned into her embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of her presence amidst the impersonal hustle of the airport. "I hate it when you leave," you stated simply, your voice carrying a mix of longing and frustration, the airport's commotion providing a stark backdrop to your heartfelt confession.

Dior's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if trying to shield you from the pain of separation. "I feel it too, love. It never gets any easier," she whispered, her breath warm against your ear.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in her shoulder, the weight of longing settling heavily in your chest. "I just wish we could be together more often," you confessed, your voice barely audible above the noise of the crowd.

Dior's fingers brushed through your hair soothingly, her touch a silent reassurance. "Me too, sweetheart. But no matter the distance, you'll always have my heart," she vowed, her words a promise of enduring love.

And as you stood together in the midst of the bustling airport terminal, surrounded by the chaos of departure, you found solace in the simple act of being together, knowing that no matter where life may take you, your love would always be a constant, guiding light in the darkness.

this is unusually short because I didn't know how to end it

taglist: @asvterias

[nouvxllev]

the girl across your street || p3

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were only someone she met in her neighborhood, and she became someone unreachable. You were someone she only knew for half a year, and yet, the countless smiles she’d give you when you were around, the moments she looked you in the eyes where you thought you finally meant something to her, the times she’d say you were someone special to her—those became nothing but everything. You start to ponder on who could ever truly stay with you? Maybe it’s inevitable you’d go along with your life without someone special to you, someone who cherishes you like their dying wish.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, yipee!

part 4 || masterlist

You've found yourself spending a lot more time with Jenna than expected—so much so that you could almost consider yourselves roommates, having explored and learned the backstory of every picture in her living room. You knew quite a bit about Jenna, maybe not everything, but you knew her down to her music taste. Which is, maybe not a lot to some, but it was deep for you. Learning about each other's music tastes felt like exchanging wedding vows.

The two of you frequently dined at fancy restaurants or strolled through nearby supermarkets around the corner from your neighborhood. Making you wonder on where the hell is Jenna getting reservations from at the most luxurious restaurants out of town. These outings became the go-to whether you both were feeling ecstatic or just wanted to unwind after a bad day. And your meetings with eachother started occurring later in the day rather than in the early mornings.

You were slowly falling head over heals, over and over again until you went mad with her. It had reached a point where not hearing Jenna's voice or feeling her presence beside you felt wrong.

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"There's my favorite actress!" You ran towards her, a broad smile on your face that reached up to your ears. In your hands, you held a DSLR camera, not too large but not too small either.

Jenna, seated in her usual spot on the bench in front of her house, responded, "Not an actress," blocking her face with the camera you had pointed at her.

"—Yet," you grinned, "Don't you want to be in my special first video vlog?" Turning around, you gave the camera a chance to capture the changing scenery of the year, with leaves transforming into warm shades of orange and red.

You had big dreams of becoming a director, a career choice you had clung to since childhood. Piles of files filled with DVDs you had created when you were young. It didn't matter if you didn't have a deep story to tell, your videos were filled to the brim with stupid and idiotic stuff you used to do as kids and overall you were happy.

"Where'd you get that from?" Jenna asked, standing up to examine your camera's display. "Ooh… The quality's top-notch," she nodded approvingly.

"It was a very late Christmas gift from my friend I go to film school with. She saw me literally struggling with my phone, so she finally got me a camera for professionals only." You emphasized the word "professionals," feeling proud to have your very own camera instead of one borrowed from someone else.

She chuckled at your comment, "I've always wanted to film something on a camera," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.

You gently set the camera down, your heart trying to calm down due to how close she was to you.

"I… I have this project for my film class," you began, turning to face her. "We have to vlog something in our lives that we could watch a few years later in time. It's supposed to be something bittersweet, my prof would say." You laughed, hoping to gain Jenna's approval.

You noticed her eyes twinkling, her eyebrows raising in excitement, and her lips forming a big smile that revealed her dimples. Fuck, you were so in love, it was maddening.

"Then let this be the short film of a lifetime."

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The 'short film of a lifetime' became a series of short films of a life time. Capturing your daily talks and strolls with Jenna, hoping that one day, the two of you could meet up again and watch these videos, laughing to your hearts' content. It was a sweet memory you'd hopefully make, really.

The alarm failed to wake you up because you didn't even sleep. It was Jenna's 17th birthday, and being even a millisecond late was not an option. You hadn't been able to celebrate her 16th birthday since she had just moved to town weeks after that, you knew after months of talking to her. And now, you were determined to give her the best party yet.

You stepped outside in the outfit Jenna had picked for you during one of your shopping trips—a comfortable ensemble that solidified your opinion of Jenna's excellent fashion taste.

You had your gift ready for Jenna, all those months of saving up money and even starving yourself finally paid off as you bought headphones that she always wanted and was always ranting to you about how expensive it is, a pair of brand-new Sony Headphones to replace her old ones.

You turned on your DSLR camera, ready to record and all, until you looked up and see people loading boxes into a truck.

Your heart raced as you ran towards the truck, hoping against hope. 'Fuck, fuck fuck... Please, not today,' you repeated to yourself, breath ragged as you tried to calm down.

Spotting Jenna's sister Aliyah, you called out to her, "Aliyah! Aliyah, wait!"

Aliyah turned, a smile on her face. "Y/n! Hey…"

You exhaled, "Where's—Where's Jenna? Is she going back to your house for her birthday?" You set your camera down, your voice shaky as you released the gift bag you held.

"Didn't she tell you? She's going across the country; she just got cast for a character in a film!"

You dropped your camera, confusion and shock hitting you like a truck.

"What?"

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

"There's my favorite actress!"

"Not an actress...

"—Yet."

The video played on and on, a retro sound mixed with sratches from the old camera you once cherished. You lay quietly down on your bed, your eyes starting to form eyebags, and the air starting to sound like a certain song you'd play when you're at your darkest times.

It's been half a decade since your last interaction with Jenna. Countless of sleepless nights, meals skipped, and relationships with others destroyed all because she moved across the country to pursue her acting career. Not once did she think to send you even a single letter, expressing how much she missed you or offering a simple greeting. But who were you to expect so much from her?

You get that she was busy, and you get that she has other matters to attend to. You knew for a fact the harsh reality of the entertainment industry demanded constant attention, and slipping up even once could mean being left behind. But a dark void in your soul could only want to ask of her a simple hi. You’ve watched Jenna through her films, her interviews, her Instagram stories, witnessing how she became a star. You were happy for her, there was no denying it, you were so happy for her she got to achieve the dream she was dying to succeed, but you couldn’t help but wish to celebrate it beside her, even for just one moment, rather from a distance like this.

You were only someone she met in her neighborhood, and she became someone unreachable. You were someone she only knew for two years, and yet, the countless smiles she’d give you when you were around, the moments she looked you in the eyes where you thought you finally meant something to her, the times she’d say you were someone special to her—those became nothing but everything. You start to ponder on who could ever truly stay with you. Maybe it’s inevitable you’d go along with your life without someone who’s special to you, someone who cherishes you like their dying wish.

When she left, your soul left with her. Now you were never the same. You never looked at things the same, walking down that street being something you’d regret, watching a film you’d think she would love could only make you breakdown into tears—missing her touch like you miss the warmth of the sun on a cold day. The world, once vibrant when Jenna entered your life, now appeared through somber lens, your simplest pleasures turned into tortures you would never wish on an empire.

You couldn’t be mad at her, no, you didn’t have the right to. How could you be so instantly attached to one person that they became your entire world? You spent your whole life creating memories you cherished with everyone around you. You had worlds to see, you had symphonies to hear from the beat of your headphones, you had comforting scents to smell whenever you walk into a familiar place, you had delicacies your mom once had made you when she was still in your life to taste, you had humans to touch—people that were close to your heart. Everything you had in the palm of your hands, taken away by a single glance from Jenna. It’s like your life suddenly meant nothing without her.

While you’re all smiles and laughs, trying to hide the fact you’re missing that one person who made you who you are now, thoughts of her still linger at night. You would find yourself after a grueling day, scrolling through the accounts Jenna had created, even reaching out to her closest friends or family members for any updates on her well-being. You still hope one day you’ll take that street yet again, reminiscing about the days when you were delighted to wake up on a cool winter morning and eagerly anticipate seeing someone, and that someone eagerly awaiting for you as well.

You sighed as you took a step on the street you were always walking on. It was already noon, and the feeling of not walking this road without the morning sun will always be so weird to you. The wind of the road reaches out to you like something of a horror film, your headphones you initially bought for Jennas birthday being the only escape to the reality you've sentenced yourself to, as if she was still there with you. If only you had known for what was about to strike you, maybe you would've confessed.

Like Jenna, you too achieved your dream job as a movie director. While you didn't work on big films, you were just happy you got to help bring stories to life, stories that Jenna often liked to read, hoping one day she'd maybe take interest in the films you directed.

As you walked, you find your eyes flickering to the bench Jenna used to sit down, a part of you wishing she would magically reappear and surprise you as if nothing had happened and it was all just a dream.

Then, someone was there—a brunette with the same hairstyle, engrossed in a book, much like the ones Jenna always loved.

"Jenna?" You called out, eyes widening.

The brunette started to stand up, book still in hand that was obscuring her face.

"Jen—! Fuck— Sorry…" You bumped into numerous people who seemed to have materialized on the street that wasn't crowded a moment ago.

“Jenna! Jenna, why didn’t you—" You extended your hand, wanting to touch her shoulder, feeling on the verge of breaking down into tears, desperate for an explanation, screaming whys and hows.

A car suddenly passed by you, the wind knocking you out of your senses.

Shit, it wasn't Jenna. It was never Jenna.

You were going insane. Why were you still grieving for something so alive, but so gone?

You were on your way to the location where your co-director, Emma Myers, had instructed the rest of the actors to shoot for your new film, Finest Kind. It was the first movie ever where you felt a bit uncertain, but you took it anyway. Emma was a friend you had made during your lowest days in film school, always there for your rants and providing a comforting presence that made you feel better about yourself.

Due to a morning that almost got you killed, you arrived 20 minutes late, earning applause from everyone when you finally reached the spot, Emma in the background shouting a rowdy 'Finally!' as the rest burst into laughter. It brought a genuine smile to your face, finally.

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

You didn't know of the casting, since that was you, your technique. You enjoyed a bit of surprise in your approach to movie directing, a quirk Emma took note of, and so, everyone introduced themselves to you and the rest of the crew, forming bonds for the months ahead.

You sat in your chair with your last name written on the back, reviewing a script that the writers had printed out, it was fairly nice. You were already envisioning how you wanted it to go, and now you were standing up to take the affirmative with Emma, until, a certain voice caught your attention.

"Excuse me, could I…" A voice murmured behind you—a familiar voice you knew and loved from the very beginning. However, for some reason, your heart dropped, and you wished more than anything to erase yourself.

"Jenna?"

"Y/n."

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

a/n: yikes!!

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 1

I had this little idea. The meeting came to me in a dream, no word of lie. Classic little trope, I know. I'm hoping to work in some smuttier things down the line. Hope I do it justice and you like it 💕 Erring on the side of caution; probably not suitable for Ramadan

You'll be able to read the rest here eventually: Ding

~3.8k words

As she did the wind took her door not much, nor hard but enough to bump into the car beside her.

The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes, still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.

It was cold and rainy all day long. It made her want to curl up in a ball with a good book on her sofa and not get up for hours and hours. The kind of day where she wished she wasn’t an adult, and she was back home. Back when her dad would make her hot chocolate, they would watch old movies, and he would give insider information into all the hubbub that happened behind the scenes. How the actors interacted and when the props failed or something of that nature.

Her father was a great film critic. But he always said “even ‘bad’ movies have good.” She had seen tons of movies. Summers during school were filled with at least one movie a night. Sick days were made for marathoning series. When they weren’t watching movies, he was taking her to baseball games, teaching her how to cook—“the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, honey”—and making sure that she knew how to be spoiled by any man that deigned to enter her life. She was handy around the house and fiercely independent.

As much as she enjoyed cooking with her dad, baking was her real passion. She loved the science of baking: how butter affected cookies, temperature changed the consistency of cakes, and nothing made her happier than playing with baking powder and baking soda to change the rise of her pastries.

It led her to this spot. This little bakery. School for business and plenty of classes on cooking and baking. At the age of twenty-seven she was extremely lucky; for the last three years her business had been so successful. It was in local and state magazines about a hot spot for tourists and one of those shops that everyone just loved.

She wished her dad could see it but knew he would be proud of her regardless.

A strong gust of wind pulled her from her thoughts. There was a late-night closing report she needed to go over—a favor to her regular closer who needed to get home to her little baby. But really, A Pinch of Sprinkles was her baby and she loved to be in the little shop that smelled like the cupcakes she loved making.

She zipped her coat up, pulling her hood over her hair. It was hardly any further than a 40-yard dash to her little bakery door but in a steady rain like this, she thought not even her rubber boots would be enough to keep her dry for the short little sprint she would have in just a moment. She thought of her dad again, who would have run around to her door and held an umbrella over her head before getting out in the rain. With a deep, sad sigh, she braced herself, opened her door and reached for her umbrella and purse on the passenger seat.

As she did the wind took her door. It wasn't much, nor hard to create real havoc, but enough to bump into the car beside her. “Fuck,” she hissed getting out quickly, her belongings be damned her hair getting wet and stringy almost immediately. She slammed her door shut, turned to the car beside her, and made eye contact with the person in the driver’s seat. Her lips parted slightly, heart hammering in her chest. There was hardly anything more than a bit of a ding on the the stranger's car but the unmoving gaze that returned from the front seat intimidated her immensely.

The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.

It felt like thunder was inside her chest, the way her heart was thudding against her ribs. An intimidating man, his hair not quite buzzed off but not quite much more than an inch or two long, deep, soulful eyes. His gaze didn’t drop from hers. It was like he was having a staring contest.

“I... am... so sorry,” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to admit she was terrified. It wasn’t that she was terrified of men. But in a dark parking lot and someone who looked so intimidating... well it was a modern-day-female nightmare.

The man smiled and suddenly he was no longer intimidating. Dare she say, he was even cute. The left half of his mouth quirked up and he glanced down at his hands on the steering wheel, tapped a quick rhythm on it, and turned back to her. “S’okay,” he shrugged, rolling the window back up. He stepped out into the rain in the same motion, rain not bothering him as it began to soak his hair and slid down his face. The man was gorgeous. A walking ad for raincoats and umbrellas. He meandered over to where she stood. Her heart still pounded now for an entirely new reason. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reached for the blemish on his car. “See, jus’ a ding,” he rubbed his fingers over the little indent a few times before turning back to meet her gaze again.

His grin was adorable.

The air came out of her in a whoosh loud enough to rival the one that took her door right into his car. “I’ll pay for it to be fixed,” she promised.

He chuckled. “S’fine, love,” he assured her. “S’jus’ a ding,” he repeated with a shrug.

By now she was drenched. It wasn’t a downpouring, but the steadiness of the raindrops won out. Without any regard to how she was stood still between the two cars—soaking the inside of her seat as well—he leaned in, grabbed her purse, umbrella and closed the door behind him. Honestly, it didn’t even cross her mind that he was going to rob her. That alone should have raised about ten alarm bells in her head. Instead, for whatever reason, she felt safe.

He handed her own bag to her. It felt so strange. Like she didn’t know what to do with it. He paid no mind to her uneasiness. Without any acknowledgment of their weird meeting and their even weirder interaction thus far, he opened the umbrella and held it over the pair of them to keep a little dryer—even though they were both already soaked.

“Let’s go,” he put a hand on her lower back to usher her out from between the cars.

Reality and her brain finally restarted in her head. “Excuse me? Go where?”

He shrugged. “Well... y’did ding m’car. Assumed y’could at least come with me.”

“Come with you where?” She repeated incredulously.

“Oh right, sorry. D’you have plans? A date?”

“Well...no...”

“Great,” he tiled his head in gesture toward their current path, the opposite direction of her bakery.

“Can you tell me where it is you want me to go?” But she was already following the gentle touch on her back to keep her moving in his current direction. She should have felt unsafe. This was unnatural. How could she not be scared?

He pointed at the municipal building—it was old and pretty. Pretty typical for a little tourist area. Lights caught the raindrops that fell to the ground that hung from ancient looking black iron sconces. Steps up to the main doors were cobblestone and probably brand new as they were replaced over the years. Back in the day it was probably home to many rousing mini-city debates. It was hard to imagine back then it would ever become the bustling little tourist center it was at present. “Y’ever been in?” He asked.

She shook her head. It was like he was a truth serum wrapped in a hot body. There was nothing to explain her reasoning to answering him. “Not since I was little. My dad took me to a magic show here.”

“Well, s’not quite as magical, but s’a fight tonight.”

“A fight?”

“Boxing.”

“Boxing?” She repeated.

“M’not trying t’be rude, are y’hard of hearing?”

“What? No,” she shook her head, confusion coloring her features. “Why?”

“Y’keep repeating everything I say,” his ever-present half-smile was mocking her.

She scowled at him, shook her head again, and halted them in the middle of the rainy sidewalk. “Please stop walking. I’m so confused,” she put her hands on her temples. Why was she even following him? She didn’t need to be with him right now. She could have walked the other direction just as easily and told him to take a hike.

“Mmm... I’d rather not, I’ve got t’get ready,” he explained inching further along the path with the umbrella in his hand still. “M’on the first card.”

“Let’s try this again,” she stood her ground. Deciding now that if he were a serial killer, it would be too late but at least she could have the satisfaction of trying. “I don’t know your name and contrary to my current actions I'm actually very wary of strangers. But I own the bakery right over there in the main square. I was going to run the closing report. I’ll wait there until your fight is over,” she suggested--where she at least had security cameras set up and would have proof of a stranger murdering her with a baking sheet. “You can come get my insurance info then,” she spun quickly away from him, and started back toward the direction of the bakery; he could keep the umbrella.

“Your bakery?” He asked, following her a few paces back.

“Yes. A Pinch of Sprinkles. It’s right over there,” she gestured to the main bustling little square.

“You own the bakery: A Pinch of Sprinkles?”

“Are you hard of hearing?”

He snorted at her and smirked once more. “Alright,” he sighed holding his hands up in surrender. “M’Harry. M’in a boxing match tonight. M’normally in there by now getting ready. But this really pretty girl dinged m’car,” his smile was so boyish for someone who scared the lights out of her only minutes before. “And y’did kind of promise t’come with me as payment,” he looked at her knowingly.

“I did not promise that,” her tone was defensive. “I said I would pay for the dent to be fixed.”

“I know y’did. S’very nice of you. S’not what I want. This is how I want you t’pay me.”

“By coming to watch your fight?”

He nodded eagerly. But she saw his eyes scanning her. He was still holding her umbrella while she continued to get soaked. Her dad would have a conniption at the sight of a stranger holding her umbrella and not keeping her dry. But it didn’t bother her. If anything, she kind of liked it if only because it gave her a chance to look at how adorable he was holding her flowery umbrella when she knew the embodiment of intimidation was going to punch someone at three-minute intervals.

Harry stepped closer, bringing her back under the umbrella. “Look... If y’really need t’go to your bakery, then no, of course m’not going t’stop you. But if it can wait, then s’how y’can repay me,” he shrugged. They were huddled close together under the umbrella. Her hair was a wet stringy mess. She knew very little about boxing. Muhammad Ali, Mike Tyson, Rocky and The Eye of the Tiger. That was about the extent of her knowledge. Boxing wasn’t one of the major sports her dad imparted his wisdom about to her.

“You want me to go to your fight as payment for your car dent?”

“Are y’going t’jus’ keep saying the same thing as me but as a question all night?” She knew she was repeating herself again. She pursed her lips to refrain from asking another question. “C’mon, Cupcake... m’really starting t’run late here,” he pointed to his wrist with an imaginary watch.

Cupcake.

What was she getting herself into?

She took a deep breath trying to calm the bit of nerves. “I’m not really a go with the flow kind of girl. I have a lot of questions.”

He smiled sweetly. Nodded like he expected such an answer, like he knew her already. “M’sure you do,” he agreed. “But... I really need t’go in. Like right now. Louis is going t’kill me if I don’t appear in front of him four minutes ago. When the fight’s over, I’ll walk y’to A Pinch of Sprinkles. We’ll run y’closing report and I’ll answer every question y’have.”

It took every bit of her self-restraint to keep her mouth from repeating him again. We. “There’s also the whole... I don’t know you at all, thing,” she reminded him stepping out from the umbrella again. “Seems like a bad idea on my part.”

It was almost moot though. Even she heard the way her voice sounded like she was caving as she said it. He stepped closer again. “You’re right. S’good instincts that I admire y’have,” he held his phone out to her, the screen catching a few drops of rain. “S’my niece,” he told her of the baby on the lit screen. She was only a few months old based on the picture. “She’s got me wrapped around m’finger and she’s barely old enough t’even see me and know m’holding her. Least that’s what m’sister Gemma says,” he shrugged. The adoration, the love in his voice made her stomach flip. It was unbelievably adorable this scary man was in love with a little baby. His voice was so sweet, it made her feel at ease. “I grew up with Mum and Gemma,” he looked her squarely in the eye. “I know m’about t’go in there and punch another grown man, but m’not dangerous. Especially not towards a girl who parked in a dark parking lot who owns a bakery with a sprinkles pun," her heart softened. “I know y’have questions, Cupcake. But I really need t’go in there,” he was growing the slightest bit impatient. “Louis is gonna send Niall out looking for me and then m’screwed. I need y’decision either way.”

It was perhaps her dumbest idea ever. Even stupider than when she tried to make peanut butter cookies without peanut butter to make them allergy friendly. “Are you going to win?” She asked.

He chuckled. “Think so. Especially if you’re there as m’good luck charm," he winked.

When she thought about this in the future or when she ended up on a true crime TV episode, it would be this moment that thousands and millions of people would say "how could she be so stupid?"

But she started for the building ahead of him, anyway. He fell into step beside her holding the umbrella over her again. “Probably not a good idea to put stock into me when I just dented your car.”

“S’jus’ a ding, Cupcake,” he smiled. “Something t’remember y’by.”

She couldn’t believe how quick and flirtatious he was. He knew all the right things to say and wasn’t even the least bit nervous it seemed. When he went into the ring or something she would have to Google his name and see if she accidentally made a fool of herself talking to a professional boxer. “You’re something else.”

They entered the building from a back door guarded by a man who gave Harry a nod as he ushered the sweet girl inside. “You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?” A blonde man with an Irish accent asked, running his hand through his hair right as the guard at the door pulled the door shut from the outside. “I was just about to go see what happened this time,” he started back down the hall, deeper into the building. “He’s losing his mind,” he warned.

Harry shrugged. “Met a girl,” he smiled back at her. “She owns the bakery. She’s gonna be my good luck charm”

“Oh, you’re the reason for my freshman fifteen,” the blond man wiggled his eyebrows at her as he turned to her as well.

“Cupcake, this is Niall, he’ll keep an eye on you,” he assured her.

“Cupcake, hmm?” Niall chuckled. “Louis’ gonna kill you,” he skipped ahead of Harry. “Found him!”

“Harold you better have been held at gunpoint!” The shout was nearly hysterical as they approached the open room.

“He was just talking to Cupcake,” Niall was nearly giggling. Louis, she presumed, wasn’t the least bit amused. His face was hard. His blue eyes cold, his jaw as sharp as his words.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he snapped. “Get your fucking clothes on,” he ordered.

Harry rolled his eyes and winked in her direction. “Hold this for me?” He asked, handing her his phone. The picture of the little babe illuminated the screen and a message from Mum was previewed on the screen so she couldn’t help but read, “Good luck honey bunny!” With about ten four-leaf clover emojis and just as many hearts. It warmed her heart so much to see the message on this scary man’s phone. She had doubts now that he was going to murder her later. A murderer wouldn’t have a supportive mom like that, right? Or a picture of their niece as their phone background? “See y’in a bit, Cupcake,” he gave her arm a squeeze and leaned her umbrella beside the door leading into the next room.

Niall was sipping a beer from a clear cup. “Y’ready, Cupcake?”

She snorted, sticking his phone into her purse alongside hers and nodded. “Sure. M’gonna have a lot of questions.”

He laughed. “Well, I have a lot of questions for you,” he promised pushing a set of double doors and into a thrumming, crowded arena.

It was definitely not a magic show.

Blinking, Niall put a gentle hand on her back and leaned toward her ear so she could hear better. “How do you know Harry?”

“I don’t,” she shouted back to be heard over the crowd. There were people getting things set up, announcements being made, and the like. There were people cheering and she couldn’t believe how big the boxing ring looked. The only boxing ring she had ever seen was the one in Rocky. Moreover, the only thing she knew about that ring was that the audience in the movie was given a free chicken dinner for showing up to the arena and they dimmed the lights, so it looked like more people were there. “My car door hit his car.”

“You hit Clay?”

“Who’s Clay?”

“His car!”

“He named his car, Clay?”

“Like Cassius Clay?”

Again, she didn’t know much about boxing, but she realized immediately that Harry named his car after the greatest heavyweight boxer ever. Oh, Lord. What did you get yourself into? She thought to herself. “Er… yeah… I guess so.”

“And he didn’t...” Niall drifted off curiously. “Hmm,” it seemed he surmised something in his head but didn’t let her in on the secret. He gestured to a chair that was front and center of the corner of the ring for her to sit. He took the seat beside her and leaned close as she spoke to him again. “How do you know Harry?”

“We’ve been best friends since Uni,” he shrugged. “Been icing his bruises for years.”

She nodded. “I see. Are you recently graduated? You said freshmen fifteen?”

Niall laughed. It was contagious. Made her feel safe still. The whole last ten minutes were surreal. She really followed a stranger to a boxing match. She was sitting with his best friend asking questions about someone she hardly knew. “Just a joke, Cupcake. You are single handedly responsible for my recent weight gain since you moved into town. Well, you and that Irish soda bread you made last March. It tasted like home.”

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I was so nervous about it!”

Talking about sweet treats and breads and cupcakes was more her speed. “Oh, it was perfect, Cupcake. Rivaled my nan’s.”

Well, maybe Harry wasn’t so scary.

At least his friends were nice. Although... “Louis hates me, doesn’t he?” The thought of someone hating her, even though she didn't even know him made her sad.

Niall rolled his eyes. “No, he’s just so sick of Harry being late. Thinks because he’s undefeated on this circuit he can do whatever he wants.”

“Undefeated?” She was grateful Harry wasn’t there to hear her question repeating the same thing Niall said again.

“Not much of a boxer are you, Cupcake?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

He chuckled. “Harry’s very good. You’ll see.” Clearly. What did he need a good luck charm if he was already undefeated. She really needed to research him.

As if he heard his own name, he dropped into the seat across from her. It would be inside the ring between rounds but for now it allowed him to gaze at the pretty girl he met moments before. “Hi Cupcake,” his smile was sugary—and she knew sugar.

“Hi,” she murmured, willing her eyes to stay focused on his face and not his bare torso. A litany of tattoos painted his skin and a pair of vines dipped into the band of the shorts he wore. Everything was black. His shorts, his tattoos, his shoes, and his gloves. She could see tape going up half the length of his forearm keeping the bottom of his gloves in place.

“That’s a record for you getting ready. Must be your good luck charm,” Niall nudged her with his elbow. “Didn’t I tell you those soda breads were delicious?”

Harry kept his eyes on her and nodded. “Y’did.”

“Told you,” Niall assured her.

“Wouldn’t shut up ‘bout them,” Harry was unmoving, his body, his gaze. His phone was in her purse. He was looking at her like she was pretty, and she knew her makeup and hair was ruined by the rain. “M’a bigger fan of those raspberry filled cupcakes of yours,” he told her. “S’like heaven in a cupcake.”

“Harry, I swear to God!” Louis shouted.

Harry smiled ruefully, winked at her again and finally moved, heading back toward the sound of Louis’ voice. “Niall, don’t let her leave, yeah?”

Niall saluted him and she watched him leave again. She cleared her throat, turning in her seat toward the door, she exited to get to her ring-side seat. “Good luck, Harry,” she called, unsure if he would hear her over the building crowd.

Harry turned back right as he got to the door and winked again. “Thanks Cupcake,” he called back loud enough for everyone to hear that he was talking to her. Niall chuckled, shook his head, and put a friendly arm across the back of her chair.

He was kind enough to lean to her ear so that others wouldn’t hear the next thing he said because it made her blush and nearly melt to the floor right in front of Harry’s best friend and the very ring, he would be punching another grown man in just a few minutes. “Hope you like your boyfriends like your frosting, Cupcake. Because that man is already whipped for you.”

--

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[jangofettjamz]

Unlovable Child

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Warnings: Child abuse

2nd Person POV

"I'm going out of town for a week to see my parents" you tell Jenna. The two of you were snuggled up together on the couch, binge watching The Mandalorian on Disney+.

"Oh, do you want some company?" Jenna offered to which you shook your head no. Your parents wasn't exactly the gold standard when it comes to parenting, in fact they'd probably win an award as being one of the worst.

You've never discussed your parents with Jenna because of this, not wanting her to be involved with them due to their toxic nature. You feared that exposing them to her would only cause more trouble than its worth.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I can--"

"No no you really don't have to" you said, cutting her off a little too quickly to go unnoticed. She gave you a look of suspicion, knowing there was likely some underlying tension between your parents and you.

You tried to put her at ease "I-I mean... they haven't seen me for a while... I wouldn't want to overwhelm them by introducing you to them... y'know given your fame and all. No offence"

Your stuttering and lack of a believable reason wasn't enough to ease Jenna's growing concern for you, but she smiled anyway, which in turn made you smile. You knew she wasn't convinced.

She pulled you in closer, making sure you were nestled into her chest. She had a feeling deep down that you were keeping something from; something terrible. Anxiousness flooded her nervous system, making her rethink about letting you go.

Her heartbeat quickened because of this, something you caught by having your head on her chest. "Jenna? Are you okay?" You asked.

She looked at you and smiled to put you at ease "Everything's fine, sweet boy. Everything's okay." She reassured, kissing your forehead to ease your worries.

But it wasn't her you were worried about, it was meeting your parents for the first time in years. The last time you spoke to your parents was 2 years prior, just before you moved out for your new job, just before you met Jenna for the first time. It didn't exactly end on the greatest of terms.

You parents were vile; abelists who took pleasure in calling you the most horrid of insults for their own sick pleasure. It made them feel better about themselves, like they were superior. They were never proud of you, even though your academics should make them so. They could never be proud of someone like you, someone who was autistic.

Of course, with many dysfunctional households come with their fair share of physical abuse, which in your case was fairly common place. The slightest of mistakes ended in severe punishment, that being knocking a drink over, talking to loudly .etc.

You were deemed a failure in the eyes of your parents despite everything you've accomplished in school, your well paying job; it meant nothing. You were never good enough for them. You were simply too much of a "spaz" to love. You were nothing to them, only when money was an issue were you of any use.

You held Jenna a little tighter just think about this. Painful memories from your past flashed through your mind, reminding you of the awful people they were.

But you maybe they had changed, maybe they realised the error of their ways, you naively thought to yourself, only setting yourself up for a meeting that would inevitably send you crashing down.

But you had to believe. "They have changed. Of course they changed, they only said and did all that stuff to make me into the man I am today. They love me. Don't they?"

- 1 day later

Jenna was on the phone with her director discussing filming dates. She was currently working multiple films at once and needed to negotiate dates so that it wouldn't impede on her schedule.

You always admired how she could do so many films at once, though, you wished she would take a break sometimes as it can tire her out.

Jenna's phone call was immediately interrupted by the sound of the door opening revealing your figure. "Mark I'm gonna have to call you back" she hangs up the phone, confused as to why you were back 6 days earlier than anticipated.

You were wearing sunglasses, unusual considering the weather outside was quite gloomy. Perhaps you just felt like wearing them, she thought to herself.

"Hi, baby boy." She kisses your cheek, but noticed that it looked awfully red and... swollen? "You're back early. Did everything go okay down there?" Jenna asked to which you nodded with a smile, albeit a dishonest smile.

"Yeah everything went great, just gad to cut the trip short because they were busy and stuff. My parents are busy people after all" you say in a somewhat cheery tone. The swollen part of your face was pulsing, as though the nerve endings in your face had been set alight.

Jenna continued to examine your face, still finding it strange that you haven't taken off your shades yet. "Wait, he wasn't even wearing shades when he left. Why was he wearing them now?" She thought, trying to ascertain the situation.

She noticed your hands were shaking; odd considering you were always calm around her most of the time and it wasn't cold indoors because of the heating. One of your arms was holding your stomach too.

All this information, combined with the fact that your back 6 days ahead of schedule is enough to tell Jenna that something was very very wrong.

"Hey babe can you take off those glasses for me? I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours." She asked sweetly, forceful was not the right approach. You looked at her, trying to strum up a lame excuse not to oblige.

"No!" He exclaims, catching Jenna off guard. You quickly try to come up with a better excuse. "I mean i-it's really bright in here Jenna, my eyes are kinda tired from driving, y'know" you play off terribly, adding a smile to try and convince otherwise.

Jenna isn't buying it, you know this. She's too smart. "Y/N your face is bright red, and swollen" His smile quickly drops. "Your hands are shaking too, and I can see a cut behind your hair. You and I both know it isn't cold in here and that cut is recent too." She exhales sadly, turning her attention too your stomach "You're holding you're stomach babe, like you're in pain. What happened over there?"

You panic, you knew she wasn't an idiot but you can't bare to let her find out about your parents, about your past. It was too embarrassing, she'd surely leave you for not being man enough to fight back. That what your father had conditioned you to believe, that you weren't a real man because of your condition, that you were sub-human.

"I-I d-dont--" "let me see your eyes, my love" bowing your head in defeat, you allowed Jenna to remove your shades, the sight horrified her, sending shivers down to the deepest depths of her soul. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as you she saw the damage.

A massive purple bruise covered your right eye, the eye itself was completely red. The area around the eye was completely swollen too. The left eye was also bruised, not as bad but still bruised nonetheless.

Anger bubbled within Jenna, the prospect of someone hurting her baby was sickening to her, she knoew this had to be your parent's doing. "They did this to you, didn't they"

"W-what no! They would never do this to me. My family love me, Jenna. They do" you tried convince her, you tried to convince yourself mostly. Tears pricked at your eyes, stinging even more due to the beating you took.

"Honey... why would they do this to you? What happened?" She asked gently with a tinge of sadness in her tone. You couldn't keep up with the lie any longer.

You took a deep breath. You wanted to tell her what happened, tell her about the desperation you felt when your father's belt connected with your back. How your mother held you down as he did it, beating and beating and beating you for being the spaz who disappointed his parents just by looking at him. She held your hands "It's okay. It's just me. Just Jenna"

A single tear fell down your cheek causing Jenna to wipe it away. "They wanted money..." you started, taking a deep breath before continuing "They wanted money that were apparently "owed" for not getting rid of me. I said no, and I'm sure you can imagine how they reacted to that. They beat me, Jenna. They both did. I couldn't stop them, I tried as hard as I could but they kept..." you sniffled, holding back what would have been a giant sob.

"They kept pummelling me with the belt, punching me in the stomach. Mom held me down and I couldn't anything. They said I was unlovable... I'm unlovable, Jenna!" He broke down completely, falling onto his knees. Your emotions that you'd been holding since you left your parents had escaped, the dull pain now fresh again.

Jenna lifted the back of your shirt to find the purple lashes that layed there, where your father had taken out his anger with the belt. She immediately held you, her own eyes tearing up at your broken state. You clung to her like a lifeline.

"Shhhh, its okay baby. You're safe now. You're safe with me again." He whales in anguish and pain, his sobs became louder as each one left his mouth.

"Jen it hurts" you said like a scared child, exactly what you were at your parent's house.

Upon hearing this Jenna decided it was best for you to lay down on your side to avoid laying on your lashed back. "Come on, honey let's lay you on the couch. Lay on your side for me, my sweet." You did as instructed.

She lifted up your top to see the bruises on your stomach, purple and still fresh. She was going to annihilate your parents, but that comes later. "I'm gonna go get an ice pack, then we're taking you to the hospital"

"No! No! Please no doctors!" You pleaded

She knelt down and stroked your hair to out you at ease as best she could "Shh shh shh, don't think about that now okay. Let me go get an ice pack for your stomach. I'll be right back." She left quickly for the ice, returning as quickly as she left.

She lifted up your shirt and let you get ready for the ice. "On three. One. Two. Three." She presses the ice to your abdomen, the cooling sensation soothed the pain little by little bringing you great relief. "Good boy baby, you being so brave for me" she cooed, kissing the top of his head.

She held the ice pack as you writhed in pain on the couch. Her free hand alternates between rubbing your arm and combing through your hair. She placed little kisses on your swollen cheek, not hurting at all when she did.

The recollection of events that played in your mind caused you to cry again. Jenna brought your head into her neck as she held you close, her skin absorbing most of the tears. "Oh baby, please don't cry. You're not unlovable. You're my very beautiful boy who I love so very very much. They don't deserve you."

You held onto her tight, thinking how lucky you were to have such a wonderful woman in your life. Your parents would've definitely said you didn't deserve her, and maybe you didn't. But that didn't detract from how much you loved her, and appreciated her.

"I love you, Y/N. I love you with every fibre of my being" hearing this made you smile out of pure gratitude and love.

"I love you too, Jenna" you say, voice still wobbly from crying. You pulled your head from the crook of her neck and the two of you just smile at each other, you took in the beauty of her face while Jenna gazed upon your battered one. She pulls you in for a gentle kiss, a long kiss that you desperately needed.

"Bubs we do need to get your tummy looked at. We'll call my mom to have a look at you, but we may need to go to the hospital if it's bad. We can do all that tomorrow though, just rest in my arms for now. Can you do that for me?" You nodded your head "I won't let them get away with this Y/N. Mark my words they're finished."

You'd never seen Jenna this angry, but it brought a strange sense of reassurance, like everything was going to be okay. "Can we watch a movie? I wanna take my mind off of this"

"Of course we can, bubs. What do you wanna watch? Empire strikes back?" She asked, knowing how much you loved that movie. You nodded making her smile and kiss you again.

She layed down next to you, inviting you to curl up next to her and lay your head on her chest. "You're not unlovable, flower. You're a very loveable and amazing person." You smile at her words, Jenna loved you very much and today was evidence of that.

She cradles your body in her arms, still feeling you tremble from everything that has happened. It would be a long road to you heal from this but she'd be with you the whole way there.

She gently rocks you while you watch the film, the sight of Darth Vader igniting your child-like love that Jenna adored.

"Hey bubs, promise you'll never think yourself as unlovable. Promise me that my love."

"I promise." You say, even though you still didn't fully believe it. Your parents words still hurt.

"Good boy. My special beautiful boy"

[pixelnrd]

April was growing tired of her son's layabout ways. Sure he went to work, but he was always there in her home. She knew he was bored and listless, and needed guidance. But how many more hints could she drop??

One evening as she found him on the sofa yet again watching cartoons she snapped.

'Dustin, get off my sofa and go take the videos back to the store,' she barked exasperatedly. 'If you're going to mooch off my hospitality like a big child then you can pull your weight.'

Dusty stormed out of the house, angry at his mother for making him feel the familiar pangs of shame and frustration that he always felt about himself these days. He didn't need her nagging him. He wished she would get off his back.

At the video store he grabbed some new films for himself and headed to the counter. He noticed the girl working behind seemed somewhat familiar.

'Did you go to Copperdale High?' he asked as she checked out his films.

'Yeah, class of '89,' she answered. 'You?'

'Class of '88,' said Dusty. 'I swear I usually remember everyone from that place... I mean I knew everyone.'

'I know you, you're Dustin,' she replied. 'I was in the cheer team, with your sister, and Jenny? I heard she dumped you after graduation.'

Dustin didn't need reminding of the biggest shame of his life. The reason he felt like such a loser these days. Why did she have to bring that up?

'I guess we're some of the only people left in this town, hey,' said the girl. 'I'm Kelly.'

Dustin suddenly recognised her. She was much grungier since high school. He was annoyed at her at first, but now he felt less alone as one of the people who remained behind while everyone else went off to college.

'When do you finish tonight? Wanna hang out?' he asked.

'I don't finish til 10... but I could take a break, if you want a smoke?' said Kelly.

Dustin soon found himself smoking weed behind the Blockbuster with Kelly. It was nice to talk to someone his own age. Together they commiserated on how everyone else had left them behind, how life had seemed to pause after high school.

Dustin felt like he'd finally found a friend. Kelly invited him to hang out at her house, and Dusty finally had a reason to go out somewhere. He would take some eers, and they would smoke weed and watch horror movies together. It was a lot of fun. It was the most fun Dusty could remember having in ages.

Eventually, as all things do, he and Kelly started sleeping together. But their friends with benefits arrangement, eventually turned into a relationship built on a foundation of a mutual desire for companionship.

[sunsetkerr]

SAMMY'S GIRL (ii) | s.kerr

summary: MORE headcanons on your relationship with sam, read part one here.

pairing: fem!reader x sam kerr

notes: getting out lots of little headcanons because they're just so much fun to do. sammy's girl is my favourite of all my girls (completely bias, sorry) but if you want to see what other 'wags' are in my lil universes, check out my masterlists!! each 'wag' is also going to get their own tag, so check those out for little file facts, or ask questions/send thoughts so we can add to them all!! lots of love

as previously established, you’ve grown up with sam right

you’ve known her through every little phase and every weird obsession she’s ever had

you know her deepest secrets and she knows yours

its honestly quite jarring because you both know each other better than you know yourselves

you’re not at sporty as sam, only relaly dabbling in school netball for carnivals and stuff when they needed extra girls

but sam would try and include you as much as she could in all aspects of her career

if she was having a solo gym day, or just going on a walk

guess whos coming with!?!!!

its you!!!!!!

if she wants a swim at the beach for recovery

she is making sure that you tag along

(not just to see you in your bathers, its for recovery, have some professionalism please)

sam has spent half of her life without you and having to settle for seeing you through a screen

so once you’re in london with her permanently, she is making the most of that

she needs to shower? you’re passing her body wash

she’s hungry? shes making two servings and you’re eating with her

she wants a coffee? youre heading to your favourite spot

you are always around

and sam isn’t having it if you’re not

when she does have to go away?

youre getting texts from guro, erin and millie complaining about her

‘omg she wont shut up about you’

‘if sam doesn’t stop talking im gonna clock her y/n, i won’t be held responsible for my actions’

‘she’s at a new level of pathetic, please come get your girl’

but they understand, they love you too

the entirety of the chelsea squad know you’re at every game

they have a dedicated seat for you in the family and friends section

everyone is away that it’s your seat

millie’s fiancée wards people away from it

he once had to face the consequences of sitting in your seat

he wouldn’t wish an angry emma hayes or sam kerr upon anyone

but its not all about sam

she is just your biggest cheerleader

you were able to finish your degree online and were lucky enough that your credentials in australia carried over to the uk 

so you started working there

im picturing sports journalism???????? you were forced to be around sport your entire life that it kinda just became a natural thing

you were so well-informed on so many different sports it was crazy

sam loved plugging anything you were writing

you posted a new article? she’s sharing that shit on her instagram story

you won an award for a piece? she’s at the ceremony

you’re working overtime to get a project finished? she’s ordering you dinner to the office

as much as sam is a professional and very famous athlete

she’s still just sammy to you

and she’s never forgotten that

but to her, you are the best thing to ever happen to planet earth

and she makes sure that everyone knows

living with sam is lots of fun

you relish in all of the time you get to spend together

call it making up lost time

sure, she leaves her stuff everywhere

but you’re guilty of that too

you still hold each other accountable

‘sam you didn’t do the dishes’

‘okay and you didn’t hang out the laundry’

‘… fair enough’

making dinner together is just chaotic 

sam can only cook breakfast, she excels at smashed avocado

so she really lets you take the reins on dinners 

she succumbs to the sou-chef life

you force her to watch movies with you

she argues and says that tv shows are better

(even though you know she’s completely invested in whatever film you’ve chosen)

you have a little brother who just idolises sam

and he has since the day he was born

he was a classic accident child, a real surprise for your parents

but watching him grow up was just the best

hes the biggest women’s soccer fan you know

he’s up-to-date on all of the woso drama

definitely can tell you the entire timeline and drama of the mcfoord relationship 

so when he’s old enough

sam flies him over to the uk all the time

he just loves sam so much

he wears her jersey to every game, saying he doesn’t want anyone elses

(maybe maccas, but that’s a different story)

and sam is estatic to have him there

definitely walks out with him as her mascot on multiple occasions

sam isn’t super touchy feely in front of others

but when shes drunk, she can’t help it

she just wants to hold you and she doesn’t care who’s around to see it

sam really loves watching men at bars or in clubs try to hit on you

just to go and ruin their fun

it’s her favourite pastime really

sam’s extra sappy and clingy when tired

after a big night or a tiring game, she wants to curl up next to you and have you hold her until she falls asleep

sometimes it’s a foreign feeling for you

sam is almost always the big spoon

so you really drink in the feeling whenever she feels vulnerable enough to let you hold her for a change

sam is also extra attentive when you’re not feeling well

she’s so doting and always checking in on you

if shes around, you’re being waited on hand and foot

‘are you okay? do you have a temp?’

‘let me get you some water’

‘i don’t like the sound of that cough, y/n’

if she’s away for a game, your phone does not stop ringing

she’s always texting when she has a spare minute 

and if she has more than ten minutes to spare, she’s calling you to see how you are

sam just adores you

the fans adore you even more

the amount of tiktok edits of you and sam are crazy

the one of you in the stands after her goal against england in the world cup went viral

the way you jumped out of your seat and almost threw yourself over the barrier was on the news the next day

the clip continuing as sam ran over to your section, as you both shouted in celebration to each other

or the clips in the matildas doco series of the two of you

the lesbians went feral for that shit

everyone wants what you have

everyone wants you

you are that bitch

sam knows it too

and she’s not afraid to let people know just who you are

because you’re hers 

forever and always

[h4arts]

belly conklin x fem! reader. where the reader is conrad’s best friend from school, and at first belly finds herself feeling jealous, but then she realizes she has a HUGE crush on her, and then they kiss!!

jealous, belly conklin -synopsis: since the age of twelve, belly had been jealous of your relationship with conrad. turns out, she was jealous of him the whole time. -warnings: underage drinking, kissing, angst with happy ending, very vague mention of a man not taking no for an answer, fem reader -notes: i got way carried away on this one, it's really long, i hope it's what you wanted!

Belly loved the summer house and the people in it. It was an extension of herself, the one constant she always counted down to, looked forward to, hated to leave, and always wanted to go back to. It had always been the Fisher and Conklin families, before Belly was born and long after she realized how joyous the place was. The summer she turned twelve, it became different though. That was the first summer she met you.

Conrad had spent the better half of a year begging his parents to let you go with them, that you were his best friend and he'd hate to leave you behind where all you'd have of this magical place were the stories he'd have when he got back. That's what Susannah had told Laurel when she questioned who you were. Belly just happened to overhear.

Belly hadn't cared much at the time. She'd thought that maybe another girl would mean less teasing, less jokes made at her expense. But as the summer progressed, she also felt jealous that you had just as much if not more attention from the boys as she did. They became your friends as much as they were hers. She decided then that she wished Conrad would've kept his school friends at school.

You had left a couple weeks early that summer, and Belly was glad things had gone back to normal for her last days at the beach house. It was just like it had been last summer, except it wasn't. You still lingered in the air, Conrad still talked about you and even Jeremiah and Steven did too. Belly found herself hoping as she got in the car that you wouldn't be back next year. That next summer would be the Fishers and the Conklins, no one else.

───☆───

The next summer had come, and Belly would be thirteen. It would be like any other birthday, just the parents, the boys, and her. But nearing closer to the beach house from the drive way, she knew by the laughter in the living room that you were back. Steven ran inside with Jeremiah who was previously helping with bags. Laurel gave a gentle squeeze to Belly's shoulder with a reassuring smile before following her son inside.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Belly promised herself she wouldn't let you bother her this summer. The beach house was supposed to be for happy memories and a fun summer. She wouldn't ruin that, even if she didn't like the changes it came with.

Inside, Belly was surprised when you stood to greet her with a hug, the smell of your perfume lingering even after you pulled away to help Laurel carry bags. It wasn't so strong it burned Belly's nose, but it was present enough to leave a mark that said 'I was here'.

That summer, she got sick and had to stay inside for a few days until she was better. The boys left every day without her but you stayed back and ate popsicles with her. You watched her favorite films with her and played various games with her. Then when the boys came back at night, you'd leave her with Susannah and Laurel to go hang out with them.

Even when she got better and the boys left to go camp at the beach like they had in a previous summer, there you were, trying to roast marshmallows over the living room fireplace so she could have smores too. When she asked where you'd gotten the supplies, you'd responded that Jeremiah was easy to bribe out of food with the right trade.

Belly had to admit to herself that maybe your presence wasn't so bad, that if you came back next summer, she wouldn't be so upset by it. She finally liked not being left alone or stuck with the moms watching old films, though she did enjoy it.

She was starting to think that maybe you weren't the worst thing to happen, but all those thoughts came crashing down one day at the boardwalk. Conrad asked her to go after they'd both been left alone in the house. He bought her a caramel apple, he walked down the pier with her, and when he asked to go play ring toss, Belly understood why he'd brought her. She remembered a conversation between you and Conrad earlier in the week when you and Steven had gone to the boardwalk by yourselves. You came back talking about a giraffe they had on the prize wall at the ring toss game.

When Belly approached the stand with Conrad, she saw him look right at it. She realized then that there was probably more behind the title 'best friend' when he spoke about you or when you laughed at something he'd whisper in your ear as everyone left dinner. She dragged him over to the ring toss game and said to win a prize. She walked away from him, leaving him to the pretty girl working the game.

Conrad found her later, confused as to why she didn't come back. In his hands were two prizes, which surprised Belly. He held out a polar bear with sunglasses to her. "They said it was the best prize they had." Belly took it, her other hand pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"I like the giraffe better. Thanks though." Belly walked away, leaving Conrad standing in the middle of the food court with the stuffed giraffe he'd won for you.

Belly cried that night. She was jealous, Conrad had dragged her all the way out to the boardwalk to win you the stuffed animal you'd seen with Steven. It wasn't fair, that's what she told Taylor when she got back home before school. Belly hadn't said goodbye back to you that summer, too sick with dislike to say it with any meaning.

Belly hoped more than anything you wouldn't come back next summer, but she knew you would, so she would bring Taylor. She thought maybe with her best friend there, the thought of you and Conrad would be distracted from her mind.

───☆───

It was mid-June, and Belly absolutely regretted bringing Taylor. She was only concerned with seeking Jeremiah's attention, leaving barely any of her own for Belly. Meanwhile, Belly had to sit on the sidelines and watch you and Conrad. Racing to the ocean, sharing huge bowls of ice cream, sitting next to each other at dinner, talking in hushed whispers and laughing so loud it rattled her heart.

Belly had brought Taylor hoping it would distract her from you, but she was constantly with Taylor, which meant you had all of your time to spend with Conrad. It shouldn't have mattered to Belly as much as it did, you were here for him anyways. He was the only reason you were there.

Later in the summer, Jeremiah wanted Belly and Taylor to be the judges of a surfing competition. Belly thought it would be just him and Steven, she hadn't seen you or Conrad all day, but then you both showed up, surfboards tucked under your arms as he laughed and you just watched with a smile.

Belly stood up to leave, everyone else was too busy to notice. Taylor was transfixed on Jeremiah who was already running out to the water with Steven, you and Conrad still stood in the sand laughing, hiding in the shade behind your surfboards.

Laurel watched her daughter walk in the back door, shoulders hunched and a frown etched deep into her face. "What's wrong? Are you not having fun out there?"

"I don't want her here." Belly mumbled, sitting on the couch between her mother and Susannah who held a glass of iced tea in her hands. The ice was making the cup sweat, so when Susannah reached out to Belly, her hand was cool and wet. She would've hated anyone else doing that, but it wasn't anyone else, it was comforting because it was Susannah.

"You don't have to bring her next year." Belly's frown deepened. They thought she meant Taylor. And it was true, she didn't want Taylor there anymore, but she meant it about you. She was tired of looking at you having so much fun with Conrad. She was sick of watching you do everything with him. She hated that you were with him all year round and she was only there in the summer.

Usually when summer came to an end, Belly hated having to leave the beach house. All she wanted was to stay there forever. But this year, she was ready to go. She was ready to escape the jealousy she felt every time she looked at you and Conrad. She was upset with Taylor and Steven who she caught kissing at the beach after Taylor promised not to hurt Jeremiah. It felt like that whole summer was just them falling apart. Before Belly got in the car, she tried to avoid the painful goodbyes. Not because she was sad, but because she couldn't stand to leave this place with her last memory being of you. You always said goodbye last and you would hug her and she wouldn't say anything, leaving you standing there in the driveway like she had the last two years. She couldn't handle it, not after this summer's chaos.

She wasn't fast enough though, or maybe you had come outside earlier. Belly watched you walk down the porch steps, Steven's hand wrapped around your elbow as he said something stupid, judging by the way your eyes squinted in confusion before Steven shook his head, signaling to dismiss what he had said. He walked around to the other side of the car, and Belly turned to get in before you said anything. To her misfortune, you were faster, wrapping your arms around her shoulders in the same hug you gave her every time you said goodbye.

"Goodbye, Belly. Have a good year. I'm sorry we didn't see each other much." You spoke in a whisper, just like always. It annoyed her. She didn't hug you back, she didn't say anything. She pulled away, turned towards the car, and got in. Not once did she look back, she never did. Belly had done this every summer since you arrived, she couldn't stand you any longer than she had to.

As Laurel drove away, Steven turned up the music he had on aux. Taylor was staring down at her phone, tapping away furiously. Belly could still feel the cool press of your rings on her sun warmed skin, she could still hear the softness of your voice, she could still smell the faintness of your perfume that was carried in the wind.

Next summer, Belly wouldn't pay you any attention. She wouldn't watch one more summer of you and Conrad when all she could do was sit and watch.

───☆───

As soon as the car stopped, Belly swung open the car door and stepped out into the gleaming sunlight. The cool breeze felt good on her skin, it was the feeling she'd been waiting for all year. She was so glad to finally be back in Cousins for the summer, forgetting all about what happened the last time she was here.

The front door to the beach house flew open, and Jeremiah ran outside, followed by Conrad and Susannah who lingered back a bit. They all shared hugs and greetings, until Steven finally asked where you were. It was the question Belly had purposefully tried to ignore.

"She's not gonna be here for a while, her cousin's getting married." Conrad answers, and Steven seems upset with the answer but drops it. Belly wished it would take longer than just a while for you to get to the house. But, it made easing into summer that much better. She hadn't been the only girl in the beach house since she was eleven. It was just like old times, Belly, Steven, Conrad, and Jeremiah. They went swimming in the ocean, had lunch by the pool, Belly watched movies with the moms while they boys went to a party. Belly had gone to sleep every day for a week with a smile.

One morning when she woke up though, that peace was gone. Belly had gone downstairs for breakfast, only to find you standing in the kitchen with Jeremiah, flipping pancakes and dodging the strawberries Steven was throwing at you. Belly frowned, you were there early. It had only been one week. Conrad mentioned exactly that, moving down the stairs around Belly to greet you. Even he hadn't known you'd arrive early.

"My cousin and her partner are going a few hours south of here to meet other family that can't make the wedding. This is just a pit stop so I thought I'd say hi." While you spoke, Steven threw two more strawberries at you, neither of which you were able to dodge. Belly watched from the stairs as Conrad tried to wipe the stains off the white shirt you wore. They were noticeable, right in the center of your torso. "It's not a big deal." You told him, taking the towel from Conrad's hand. Belly's stomach twisted, he smiled at you so easily, and your hand was on top of his before taking the towel. Jeremiah and Steven didn't even notice, taste testing the pancakes. Belly turned around and went back upstairs.

She didn't come back until the afternoon, preparing herself to see you standing with Conrad again. Against everything in her, she'd put on the smallest bit if mascara and lip gloss, hoping she'd be noticed better. Maybe the attention wouldn't be on you then, and she wouldn't have to see Conrad staring at you. You were gone by the time she stepped of the last stair. Jeremiah told her you'd left an hour ago when she asked.

Belly went back upstairs to take off the mascara and lip gloss. She changed into her swimsuit and rushed back down stairs, diving straight into the pool. She hoped Jeremiah hadn't noticed the makeup when she asked where you were, she didn't need it if you weren't there. She wouldn't see you with Conrad, that was all she put it on for to begin with.

On the day of her birthday, Belly still hadn't seen you since the surprise visit. She opened her gifts from everyone, they all had pancakes for breakfast, per her request. Conrad had asked if she wanted to go to the boardwalk, Belly agreed. Steven and Jeremiah ended up going too, but they went straight to the arcade as soon as they arrived. Conrad followed Belly to all the things she wanted to do, until it led them to a picnic table for a snack.

Belly didn't think it was a good idea to ask, but she had to know. She asked Conrad why he was friends with you. Belly wanted to know what was so important about you that he couldn't even leave you back for two months to be at the beach house.

"She's been my best friend for years. I've known her almost as long as I've known you. I just never really talked to her until the year before I first brought her here." Conrad shrugged, he didn't understand the importance of the question. But now that Belly had asked it and received the wrong answer, she didn't understand why it was important for her to know either. But she'd already asked, she wanted a real answer.

"That isn't what I asked you." Conrad sighed at that. He took a long sip of his drink and paused, almost as if he really had to think about the answer. Maybe he was just trying to avoid it.

"She was there for me when I needed someone." He answered shortly.

"And no one else was?"

"That's not what I meant." She knew. But she wanted a real answer, not a vague one, not one that could be misinterpreted. And she'd already asked twice. There clearly wasn't anything special about you, or Conrad wanted to keep something about your relationship secret. Either of those explanations would've confirmed Belly's suspicions.

"She just, she makes people feel safe with her even if they don't know her. She's just got that about her, y'know?" Belly had never heard Conrad say that about anyone. But, it made sense to her now though, why he would drag you miles from your own home and family every summer just to spend that extra time with you. It also made sense to her that you were more than his best friend, and she had a feeling she knew just how much more.

"Hey guys, guess who I just saw outside!" Jeremiah ran up to their table, Steven trailing a safe distance behind. Belly and Conrad stood up, following Jeremiah and Steven to the exit. The sun was setting, Belly hadn't realized how long they'd been there.

Just as Jeremiah said, you stood in the parking lot alone, a jacket draped over your folded arms. Belly guessed you'd come straight from the reception, judging by your slightly smudged makeup and the dress you wore that rippled softly around your legs in the breeze. Once you saw them, you reached into the bag hanging from your shoulder and handed each of them a pressed flower.

"My cousin saved me the leftover ones for my room. I don't need all the ones she gave me." The boys clutched onto them like it was all they'd ever have of you, observing every inch of their flower like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Belly put hers in her pocket. She didn't look back at you after she did, not wanting to know if you'd seen her do it.

Back at the house that night, Belly sat in her room, looking at the clock every so often. It was late for her to still be up, even for it being summer. Everyone was asleep, so she got ready to go for a night swim. This was the latest she had ever gone, so there was no chance Susannah would come down tonight. She'd have the pool all to herself, but she was wrong.

On a chair across the deck from the door, you sat looking out to the stars above the ocean. Hearing the creak of the door, you look back to see Belly standing there, a towel tightly clutched in her hand. Belly was surprised when you didn't smile at her before you looked away. You always did, and it felt odd to Belly that you didn't. She wondered if something happened, if you were upset with her about the flower or if you finally gave up on trying to be nice to her.

Belly considered going to sit next to you, but as she walked farther out from the deck, she saw the look on your face, illuminated by the moonlight. You weren't mad, or sad, or upset. You were just there. There was nothing wrong, so Belly dropped the towel on the closest chair to the pool and dove in. She swam her laps, took short breaks to just float, and every time she looked back at you, you were still there, eyes never once leaving the sky.

Finally feeling tired, Belly got out of the pool and wrapped herself in the towel. She headed towards the door to go back inside, but something made her stop. Something made her want to go sit with you and watch the stars, just for a bit. You still didn't look away from the sky as Belly sat next to you, and she didn't say anything. She tucked her knees up to her chin to fully wrap the towel around herself and she watched the stars with you.

She had no idea what you were thinking, or if you were even thinking about anything at all, so she quietly kept an eye out for any shooting stars until you suddenly moved your hand to your pocket. Belly jumped slightly, not expecting you to move. You pulled out a small box and handed it to Belly.

"Happy birthday, Belly." Then you turned back to the stars. She carefully removed the lid from the box, revealing a small starfish charm glinting delicately in the light from the moon. "For the charm bracelet you've got. It's to remind you of this place even when you aren't here. I know how much you love it here." That was all you said, and Belly assumed it's all you would say.

She stared down at the charm, and thought back to what Conrad had said earlier at the boardwalk. She makes people feel safe with her even if they don't know her. She's just got that about her, y'know? Belly now knew how true that really was. Even back when she first met you, you had been the one to make sure she never felt left out, you'd sit with her when she was sick or when the boys would leave without her. You'd always tell her to have a good year when she left and you meant it every time, even when she left you standing in the driveway without saying anything back. You'd gotten her something to remember this place and all the amazing memories it held.

Belly realized there was nothing about you that she could hate. Not the way your voice lingered in her head all the way home at the end of the summer, not your perfume that she could smell long after you'd vanished from sight, not the cooling metal of your rings that came with every touch or hug you gave her, not the welcoming smile you always wore. Even tonight, when she first walked out the door and saw you. She realized if it had been anyone else besides Susannah, she would have turned around and gone back inside. For some reason, it didn't bother her that you were out there with her. She felt safe.

"Good night, Belly." Belly looked up from the charm to see you already halfway back inside. "Don't stay up too late, you'll hate yourself for it in the morning." You were gone before Belly could say anything back. She wished she would've said something, she didn't even say thank you. It made her think about every summer she never said anything back, never hugged you back, never looked back.

Summer was over fast after you got there. Belly didn't try to avoid your goodbyes this time, but she was confused now. Why was she now realizing that all the things she thought she hated about you, she didn't and never had? She still didn't hug you back. She still didn't say goodbye. But halfway down the street, she looked back. It was the first time she ever did, and she wished she hadn't. Your arms were crossed over yourself, the same way she did when she felt bad. You were frowning, and then Conrad was at your side, wrapping an arm wound your shoulder and leading you back inside, a gentle smile on his face. Had it always been that way?

───☆───

It was spring break now, and Belly was still confused about last summer. She tried talking to Taylor about it, but she couldn't form the right words. All those times she saw you with Conrad, was it really you she was jealous of? Or was it just wishing that she was doing those things with you instead. Did she hate your goodbye hugs because if she hugged back she wouldn't let go? She missed the nights the boys left and it was just you and her, making your own jokes to laugh at. She finally recognized that she wanted to be the one you turned to, not Conrad.

Her whole life, she was so sure she wanted Conrad, for him to want her and to be with him. Now she wasn't sure that's what she'd wanted. Maybe deep down, she'd wanted the giraffe at the boardwalk because you wanted it, and it was subconsciously as close to you as she could get at the time.

Belly had stared at her phone for hours over the course of spring break, debating whether or not to call. She had no idea what she would say if she did, but she didn't like being confused over it. Time kept passing and Belly never called. And before she even knew it, school was out, exams were done, and she was packing her bags to go back to Cousins.

The ride there was the same as always, but when the car pulled in to the drive, only Jeremiah was on the porch waiting. He hugged Steven first before Laurel made her way over to ask about Susannah, to which Jeremiah responded that she was inside sleeping. Conrad came around the house a few moments later, pausing at the sight of them like he'd forgotten they were coming. He quickly greeted them before Steven announced it time for a 'Belly flop'. Conrad and Jeremiah were quick to follow. Belly looked around for you, but you weren't there. She guessed you were inside somewhere, waiting for them.

When Belly hit the water, she heard a new tone of voice added over the laughter of the boys. Swimming back to the surface, she saw you over Conrad's shoulder. You were smiling, hitting Steven's shoulder playfully. Belly swam over to the edge of the pool where you met her and kneeled down to help her out of the water. Once you were both sitting on the ground, you pulled Belly in for a hug, getting the front of your shirt wet. You both laughed and for the first time, Belly hugged you back. Things were going to be different that summer, she'd make sure of it.

Something was already different, though. Jeremiah and Conrad had never really paid her much attention before, but their stares had lingered a little longer than they ever had. Even Susannah had said Belly looked prettier, and she wondered if maybe your stare would linger as long as the boys' had. She hoped so.

The bonfire party came later in the week, and to Belly's disappointment, you'd spent most of that time with Conrad more than anyone else. Steven had told her not to go, and that he wouldn't be responsible for her. Belly didn't really want to go, but if was the only time she'd get to see you, she would go.

She called Taylor that night, asking her friend's opinion on what to wear. The call consisted of less help than meaningless bickering about what she should say to you. After the call had ended, Belly stared at her reflection in the mirror. She wondered if the dress she'd put on would even be noticeable to you, or if you would even care.

A thud echoed from across the hall, breaking Belly's thoughts. She went to see where the noise had come from, which led her to your room. Before she could say anything, the door flew open, revealing you in a shorter dress than you'd worn before and your makeup that hadn't been redone since the morning. You were shocked to see Belly standing there, waiting for you to say something.

"I heard something fall." Belly watched the crease between your brows even out, the confusion leaving your face.

"I just knocked my phone over. No big deal." You shrugged, stepping out of your room and closing the door behind you. "Are you going to the party?" You ask, eyes tracing over the dress Belly wore.

"Oh, um, yeah. Don't tell Steven though." Belly looked down, realizing that Steven would see her once she got there, so you telling him wouldn't even matter.

"Don't worry about him, go and have fun. He can be mad later, you look great." You put an arm around Belly's shoulders, leading her to the stairs so you could go.

Steven, Conrad, and Jeremiah had already left, the party was undoubtedly already in full swing. Belly would have questioned why you didn't go with them, but she knew from Conrad and Jeremiah's stories that you were always late to parties anyways.

Belly went around to the passenger side of your car, waiting for you to get your keys. She glanced in the window of the backseat and saw in the small amount of moonlight a stuffed giraffe in the middle seat. The one Conrad won at the boardwalk. A frown pulled at her lips as you walked outside, unlocking the car. Belly immediately got in, looking out the window. Getting in the car yourself, Belly felt your eyes on her, and when she looked at your reflection in the window, she saw the worry in them.

"We don't have to go. We can stay back and watch movies." You say, pausing to put the key in the ignition.

"No. I want to go." Belly still didn't look back, but she truly did want to go now. She couldn't go back inside and go to bed. It felt like every time she thought maybe she had a chance, Conrad came right back. The giraffe in your backseat was proof enough that she was right. She was going to the party, either with you or someone else to distract her from that thought.

"Okay." The car started, and the whole drive, Belly didn't look anywhere but out the window. You'd glance at her once in a while, making sure she was still okay. Belly tried to ignore it, just focusing on the music softly playing from the radio.

Barely waiting for the car to park along the crowded street, Belly tried to open the door. You locked it before she could, causing her to groan in annoyance. "Promise you'll tell me if you want to leave."

"Fine." Belly still didn't look at you, and she tried the door again. "Just unlock the door so we can go."

"Look at me, Belly." Finally, she turned to look at you, one hand still on the door and frowning. "Promise, or I'll turn around."

"I promise." Her shoulders deflated into a more relaxed posture, and you unlocked the door. Belly split from you as soon as you got to the crowd of people drinking and laughing. She needed a minute alone before she could go back to you or she got caught by Steven.

"Hey, Belly!" Jeremiah was walking over to her, a full solo cup in his hand. He held it out to her, and laughed at the grimace on her face as she looked down at it. "Don't worry, it's just water. I'm driving tonight."

She took the cup, from him and downed about half of the water before handing it back. Her nervousness had dried her throat. Jeremiah just shook his head with a smile. "Wait, how'd you get here? Some creep didn't drag you here, right?" It was Belly's turn to laugh, and she shook her head, explaining she'd come with you.

"Actually, did you see where she went?" Jeremiah squinted, trying to remember if he'd seen you.

"I don't think I've seen her yet, I mean you just got here, right? Maybe Steven knows, he was hanging around by the fire." He responds, turning to go in the direction Steven was.

"No, I don't want him to know I'm here yet." Belly stops him, and Jeremiah frowns but doesn't argue.

"I can ask Conrad." Belly nods, and Jeremiah leaves the cup of water with her as he goes racing off to find his brother.

A few minutes later, Jeremiah comes back, reaching for the water cup back from Belly. He took a long drink before answering Belly's previous question about your whereabouts. "She's actually with him right now. They're over by the water." Jeremiah points towards the ocean in a vague pattern, but Belly thanks him anyway and makes her way down the beach.

However, as Belly got closer, she stopped, trying to register what was happening in front of her. You were kissing Conrad, and clearly so distracted you didn't even notice the tide getting the side of your shoe wet. Your hands were in his hair and his arms were around your waist and Belly felt so upset that she almost didn't notice the man standing a few feet from you drop his cup and walk away.

Steven suddenly appeared with Jeremiah and a girl she hadn't seen before, and she was too frozen to even consider trying to run away before Steven saw her. "Belly, what are you doing here?" Her eyes turned to Steven who was quickly approaching her, she hadn't seen you when you appeared next to her, gently taking her arm and leading her away before Steven got to her.

"Let me go!" Belly tried to pull her arm away from you. You didn't let her go until you were both a safe distance from the crowd on the beach.

"Belly, just breathe." You stood in front of her, and she tried to move around you. "Belly." You blocked her again.

"Just let me go."

"Go where? And who with?" Belly didn't know, she just wanted away from you, and Conrad, and Steven. She didn't know when her tears started falling, or when you hugged her and she fought against your hold until she finally gave up. She let you run your hand up and down her arm to soothe her, you let her cry into your shoulder. "I'm sorry." You whispered.

Belly realized she'd been right, that it had always been you and Conrad. No matter how badly she hoped, it would never be you and her. Maybe she could've changed that if she'd been nicer all those past summers, maybe if she would've matched your efforts to be there, that could've been her you kissed on the beach.

"Let's go home, okay?" Belly nodded, she let you lead her back to your car. Even when you'd gotten home, she let you lead her up to her room, wash the light makeup she had on off her face and laid out a change of clothes. After you'd left her with a 'goodnight', Belly lay awake staring at her ceiling. The summer had just started, she couldn't handle watching you and Conrad all summer. She had barely tolerated it in previous summers. It would hurt worse to see it knowing for certain that you loved him.

She wasn't sure how long she had laid there when she heard stumbling on the stairs followed by a string of quiet curses. She heard you and Jeremiah say goodnight before Jeremiah's door closed and Conrad's swung open, hitting the wall before there was a long pause of silence.

Belly quietly got out of her bed and went to her door, cracking it open just enough to see what was happening. You were backing out of Conrad's room, whispering something she couldn't hear before shutting his door. Belly closed her own door, it wasn't loud, but it was audible. She stood behind her now closed door, listening as you stopped on the other side of it.

"Belly," She didn't respond, she didn't move. She just stood and stared right at the door where your face you be if she opened it. You sighed. "Good night." Belly listened until the sound of your footsteps quieted and your door squeaked shut across the hall.

Belly couldn't fall asleep, even after she had been back in her bed for an hour. She couldn't stop thinking about what she'd seen at the party, what you might've told Conrad before you shut his door, what you probably did the rest of the year when you weren't at the beach house. She wondered if you slept more peacefully than her, not knowing how badly Belly's heart was breaking.

The next morning, Belly didn't want to leave her bed. She didn't want to see you and Conrad, it would just make last night more real. Unfortunately for her, her mother walked in at the exact second she turned away from the door to go back to sleep.

"Belly, you need to get up. It's already late." Laurel sat on the edge of her daughter's bed, pulling the sheets off Belly's head.

"No. Can't I just sleep today?"

"It's summer Belly, go out in the sun, you can sleep tonight." Laurel sighed, standing up and going back to the door. She told Belly that you, Conrad, and Steven had gone to get drinks and muffins. Belly got up then. She thought she could go downstairs, eat something, and escape the house before you got back. Jeremiah was the only one at the time Belly could stand to see without being lectured or heartbroken.

"Finally! I thought I was gonna have to sit out on the surfing competition today." Jeremiah smiled up at Belly as she entered the kitchen, grabbing a box of cereal and a bowl, taking the milk from the counter before Jeremiah could refill his glass.

"I'm not going." Belly said, stuffing a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. Jeremiah rolled his eyes.

"Of course you are, Steven's an unfair judge."

"No I am not!" Steven appeared in the doorway, a box balanced on one arm and a coffee cup in the other. Belly froze, she hadn't made it out in time.

"Yes you are, you give us all twos at best." Conrad followed after Steven with another box.

"That's not true." Steven argues, sliding Jeremiah's cup over to set down the box he carried.

"It so is. Just because we're better than you." Belly didn't look anywhere but her bowl of cereal, your voice was the last one she wanted to hear right now.

"Shut up, just because you went to a fancy camp-"

"No I did not!" You and Steven continued the banter as you set down the drink carriers balanced in your hands. Conrad opened the muffin boxes, mindlessly reaching for one as his eyes full of amusement never once left you and Steven you were now pushing each other.

"Hey! Watch the food, some people are actually hungry." Childishly, Steven stuck his tongue out at Jeremiah, who in turn rolled his eyes.

"Didn't your mom tell you we were bringing muffins?" Belly looked up for the first time since you got back. The boys had left the kitchen with their plates of muffins and drinks.

"Yeah, I didn't want to wait. I thought you'd be longer." Belly lied, putting her bowl in the sink and muttering that she'd come back later to clean it. She quickly left to go back to her room, getting right back into her bed.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at her door before it was gently pushed open. You walked in with a plate of muffins and two drinks balanced in your hands. Walking over to Belly, you held out one of the drinks, sitting next to her. Once Belly had taken the drink, you set the plate down in front of her on the bed.

"I know you're upset with me Belly." She looked at you, pretending not to know what you meant. "I would've talked to you about it last night, but I think it was best we both slept off a bit of emotion before talking." Belly looked away, she wasn't ready to have this conversation yet. Not last night, not now, probably not ever. Her heart couldn't take it. "Talk to me, and if you still hate me after we talk, I'll leave you be."

"Do you love him?" Belly's voice was hardly above a whisper, but you heard, and with a small sigh, you answered, knowing exactly who she was talking about.

"He's my best friend, Belly. He has been for years. There's a thing about a friend like that, that just becomes a part of you and your life. I do love him, very much. But I'm not in love with him and he's not in love with me." You explain gently, eyes never leaving the side of her face.

"So why'd you kiss him?" Belly looked at you, there was a certain sadness in them that broke your heart.

"Because some people don't listen to words like they do actions." That's when Belly remembered the man that had stormed away from you before Steven and Jeremiah showed up. She hadn't thought anything of it when it happened, too focused on her own heart breaking.

"Oh." Belly took a sip of her drink. Maybe she had misread the whole thing.

"You can talk to me Bells." You hadn't called her that before, she wished you would've. She wished you'd keep doing it.

"I like you." Belly blurted before she could talk herself out of it. You smiled at her.

"I know. I like you too." Belly's eyes scrunched in confusion. "I was just waiting for you to figure it out yourself."

"I hate you." Belly smiled then, her face relaxing as you both laughed.

"That's not what you just said."

"No." Belly thought back to all the summers she'd spent with you that led up to now, you laughing in her room. You liked her, not Conrad. "What was that thing you were saying about actions..." She laughed again as you rolled your eyes in fake annoyance.

"What do you want? My muffin? My drink?" This time Belly rolled her eyes and you'd laughed, but she still took the drink, setting both on the night stand beside her.

"I want you to kiss me."

"Okay." You took her face in your hands and kissed her. Belly hadn't realized before, but she lived for this moment. She could've done this all along, had your lips on hers, your hands in her hair, rings pressing lightly against her cheeks, your perfume drowning her in a scent that made everything but you disappear.

When you pulled away, she found herself wishing you hadn't. She didn't want you to stop, and then it hit her that she'd only ever have you in the summer. You lived hours from her, she couldn't go to you whenever she wanted. She had just finally gotten you, and not even three months later, she'd have to let you go.

"I'll come find you." Your voice broke her thoughts.

"What?"

"When summer's over." Belly thought you'd read her mind, you knew the look she had in her eyes. "I'll be there when you need me." She didn't say anything, she didn't want to think about it. Summer had just started anyway, and now she had you. She kissed you again, ignoring your complaint about the muffins that still hadn't been touched. How could she care about those muffins right now when she'd been waiting long enough to finally kiss you?

[alexfromjersey]

𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓼 & 𝓕𝓪𝓷 𝓓𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓼

jenna ortega x g!poc

summary: jah submits a demo. jenna gets questioned by hudson. fans start to piece things together

warnings: mature language

a/n: I want to quit my job 🙂. I wish we got paid to write fanfiction. I walked 14,987 steps in one single shift

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

🤰🏻🩵

@modernbussywhip: AIGHT I NEED EVERYONE TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND PAY ATTENTION TO ME

@ghostridingwhip: aggressive for wat tho?

@modernbussywhip: SSSHHHHHH I HAVE NEW INFO BOUT JAH'S MYSTERY GIRL! I have two potential candidates and please note that one of them is a little bit of a surprise

@highondatgreen: i thought it was clear that I'm Jah's girl

@ghostridingwhip: @highondatgreen whatever u smoke...slide some over here

@ghostridingwhip: @modernbussywhip who are the candidates 👀

@modernbussywhip: ALRIGHT CLASS IS IN SESSION. Now like I said i have two candidates but it could be more cuz we all know Jah is a hoe...a respectable one tho but i digress.

@modernbussywhip: CANDIDATE NUMERO UNO: Stacey Vernon, a popular social media influencer on TikTok. She has a twin sister Diana and with Davis, they all attended school together (as she has mentioned in a TikTok video). They were together at Stacey's birthday party not too long ago and even though Jah shut the rumors down of them being together...we never know when it comes to Shiesty.

@fnthechat: geeeeezzzzz if this Jah's girl....

@behindthespecialk: I love jah but there's no way jah bagged her

@shiestylover: @behindthespecialk: whoa whoa not u doubting my girl's ability to bag bad bitches. you must not seen her roster 😏

@behindthespecialk: HOW?!?! @sheistylover

@shiestylover: she just built like that 😏

@modernbussywhip: LMAOOO while we can admire the untouchable rizz Jah has later....we should move on to candidate numero dos because this one...is a little out there but plausible.

@modernbussywhip: CANDIDATE NUMERO DOS: we all know her, we all love her and it's Miss Jenna Ortega. Now now now before everyone start think pieces just look at my evidence ok come come....evidence number one back when the Scream 6 premiere happened Jah accompanied Davis to it. I'm 95% sure that's where they first met because Jah didn't go to Canada while Davis was filming Scream 6. 1/4

@modernbussywhip: we all saw jenna appear in Jah's vlog...the eye contact, the sexual tension, everything was there between them. But fast forward a couple of hours later, a fan posted a pic with jenna who was at a restaurant and in the pic u can see a tattooed arm and it's the same tattoos Jah has! 2/4

@modernbussywhip: CONTINUE TO WALK WITH ME! Fast forward more, they follow each other on Instagram and as a jenna fan also...that girl avoids that app like the bubonic plague EXCEPT for when Jah posts...every single post of jah has a jenna like...i don't think jenna even likes her mother's posts so for her to only be on Instagram liking Jah's posts....my spidey senses are tingling 3/4

@modernbussywhip: ALMOST DONE! now we always mess with jah on her Reddit so lately it's been nothing but pics and edits of jenna on it...NOT ONCE has she told anyone to stop sending pics and edits of jenna. AND every time she looks at one...her eyes lights up and she starts to smile and blush! Plus after the Met Gala, Jenna stayed in New York...why did she stay in New York?? Jenna's from Cali across the fucking country and she was seen around the Bronx area....YALL NOT FOOLING ME! 4/4

@fnthechat: if jah managed to bag the baddiest scream queen in existence...imma need her to write a book about how to generate THAT much rizz

@ghostridingwhip: fr...that's like level 100 rizz...past Duke Dennis level of rizz

🤰🏻🩵

"Man this is the fucking FIFTH studio I called today and none of them got availability tonight" You groaned out of frustration.

"Why you wait until the last minute to call these studios?" Delyse questioned.

"Well I just signed up for the contest. It was a spur of the moment thing I didn’t really think it through." You said.

Delyse hummed in response and turned her attention back to the food on the stove.

"We can see if Kenny still got his home studio. I think he still live on 33rd" Davis said.

"Bet let's go. We'll be back Ma" You said to your mother and left with Davis.

"You got a song you gonna record?" Davis asked.

"Yeah I wrote it a long time ago. I made the beat and everything" You smiled.

Soon the two of you made it to Kenny's house. You walk into the building and climb up the three flights of stairs, remembering that his elevator never worked. You got to his door and knocked on it.

You waited patiently and slightly out of breath. You knocked again, "Yo Kenny it's me Jah."

Suddenly, the door was ripped opened and a furious looking woman stood there with a crying baby on her hip.

"Uh is Kenny here?" You asked.

The woman laughed sadistically, "Of course you're looking for Kenny. Kenny left four months ago with a skank from Brooklyn."

You and Davis looked at each other stuck on what to say.

"Um...you don't happen to still have his studio equipment?" You asked carefully.

"Nope. I burned it. I burned everything of his" The woman replied.

"Okay thanks" You both gave her a small smile and walked away from Kenny's former apartment. The two of you left the building with you feeling utterly defeated.

"What the fuck am I gonna do? I have to submit this demo by 11:59 tonight" You sighed.

"Don't stress bruh we gon' figure something out. Trust" Davis reassured you. You nodded and took a deep breath in to calm your body down.

🤰🏻🩵

London, England

1:23 am

Jenna had just got to her temporary home after a long day of filming. She was exhausted and was glad she had the day off so she can rest properly. She pulled her shoes off and placed her purse on the table.

Just as she was about to sit on the couch, a knock is at her door.

She internally screams before she walks to the door and opens it to reveal Hudson.

Jenna sighed, "What do you want Hudson?"

"I...just wanted to check in on you. I know you've been working hard which could be harmful to the baby" Hudson said nervously.

"Now you care about me and my baby" Jenna said and raised her eyebrow in suspicious at the boy.

"I always cared about you Jenna. If I didn't I wouldn't be here right now" Hudson replied.

"If you cared about me you wouldn't have told my family about me being pregnant. That wasn't something someone who cared about me would do" Jenna said and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You're right. I shouldn't have done that, it wasn't my place to do that and I sincerely apologize" Hudson said.

Jenna hummed in response, not really believing his words.

Hudson sighed and scratched the back of his neck, "I truly am sorry and I regret doing it. I just...I just wanted to check on you after everything that happened with Neil on the plane."

At the mention of the male, Jenna tensed. She was doing good with pushing him out of her thoughts. Instead, choosing to focus on her filming. She couldn't and won't let him control her...not anymore. She deserved to be happy.

"I'm fine. I'll handle it" Jenna lied.

Hudson opened his mouth to say something but decided against it after seeing the look on her face.

"Okay...I'll uh...see you tomorrow" Hudson said and walked away from her door. Jenna shut the door after he left and sat on her couch. She was stressed and that wasn't good for her or the baby...she needed to relieve some stress.

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

i need help

NYC 🩵:

with 👀

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

im stressed

NYC 🩵:

well taking deep breaths and meditating i heard is a good source of stress relief

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

NYC 🩵:

was that not the right thing to do?

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

nope

NYC 🩵:

ah shit

WAIT

😏😏😏😏😏😏

i know what u want

🤤🤤🤤 vegan food looks bomb don't ya agree

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

I hate you with everything in me 😂

NYC 🩵:

💀💀💀 wym? wat i do? is that not right also?!?

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

you know that's not what i want

NYC 🩵:

what u want then

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

you know

NYC 🩵:

i dont know ms ortega

not a mind reader

use your words

A chill went through Jenna's body as she read the message, imagining you actually saying those words to her...under different circumstances.

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

don't say that

it makes it harder when you say things like that

NYC 🩵:

😂😂😂😂

ain't it like almost 2 am or something over there

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

no...

NYC 🩵:

nice try

go to sleep

goodnight my honey bunches of oats 😘🥰

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

you're annoying 😒

Jenna groaned and placed her phone down next to her. She needed to eat, shower, and sleep. But before she could even attempt to start, her phone dinged again. She grabbed it and opened the message from you, she took a sharp inhale of air.

NYC 🩵:

word?

*attachment: 1 image*

It was picture of you in the mirror with your head titled to the side and tongue stretched out your mouth. Your tongue was naturally long, almost reaching to your chin. But what also caught her eyes was your hand placement which was grabbing your genitalia through your gray sweatpants. That's all Jenna needed.

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

i take back what i said

🤰🏻🩵

You laughed at Jenna's message and fixed yourself before walking out the bathroom. You and Davis got back to your Mother's house defeated from the lack of progress in finding a studio.

You don't know how you were going to finished this demo and submit it in 4 hours.

A knock at the door grabbed your attention, you watched as your mother walks to the door and cracks it open.

"Hey Leon" Delyse smiled brightly at the sight of the man.

"Hey Del, how you doing?" Leon gave her a smile back.

"I'm good just cooking for these clingy kids" Delyse answered and opened the door wider for Leon to see you and Davis.

"Hey Mr. Greenhill" You and Davis simultaneously greeted the older man. Leon chuckled and waved at them.

"Oh I knew I smelled something delicious. Man I missed smelling your cooking reminds me of the old days" Leon flattered.

Delyse let out a little giggle, "Yeah the old days."

The two adults stood in the doorway looking at each other basking in the comfortable silence. Meanwhile, you and Davis looked at each other before looking back at the older adults.

"I...uh just wanted to stop by and say hello. I don't wanna intrude anymore than I already have" Leon smiled at Delyse.

"No, no, no intruding...do you want a plate?" Delyse boldly asked.

It took a moment for Leon to come up with a response but eventually he did, "Uh yeah sure."

The older gentleman walked into the house and Delyse closed the door behind him. Leon pulled off his cap and held it in his hands. He sat next to you at the end of the table.

"How you guys doing?" Leon politely said to you and Davis.

"Eh" You shrugged.

"Eh? Why eh?" Leon questioned.

"Jah signed up for this music competition. Winner gets a five million dollar record deal with Passion Records. The contestants must submit a demo by 11:59 p.m tonight but we haven't found a studio all week" Davis explained.

"And I tried recording it on my phone but the audio is all grainy and hard to hear" You sighed.

"Hmm...can you sing the song you are going to submit?" Leon questioned.

You and Davis glanced at each other again but Davis just shrugged. You scrolled to the notes app and pulled the beat of the song you are going to use.

"Rollin' through with stacks, it's easy, money rainin' down, just like a storm, I got the riches-" You get interrupted by Leon pausing the beat on your phone.

"No" Leon said.

"No? What you mean no? It's a good song" You scoffed.

"Yeah for the early 2015 era when singing about money like that could get you hits. It's 2023 now, people want to hear something different something unique. If I was a judge and I heard that...I would think you're just hopping on the trendy music hoping for yours to be the hit. But you don't realize that everyone is thinking the same thing as you. The only way for you to be looked at twice is if you stand out. Let the lyrics come from within you, come from your heart" Leon explained to you.

Delyse then comes from the kitchen with a plastic bag with aluminum foiled wrapped plates inside.

"Here you go" Delyse smiled and handed Leon the bag.

"Thank you. I really appreciate this Delyse" Leon smiled at her grateful. He stood up from the table and grabbed his cap.

"Once you find those lyrics, come and find me on Southern BLVD but hurry though you got four hours left" Leon said and left the house.

Meanwhile, you sat stuck at the dining room table. Replaying the words Leon said, basically calling your song shit. It stung but deep down you knew he was right. The song didn't feel like you, it felt like a 14 year old wrote it and it wasn't your style.

You glanced at the clock on the wall as you grabbed a pen and paper. 7:48 p.m. Your eyes then glanced down to your phone and an unopened message from Jenna.

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

you have to be the greatest partner alive 😏

"Have to be..." You muttered to yourself. Instantly, your hand starts to move by itself as you write down the lyrics to your new song.

Let the lyrics come from your heart.

🤰🏻🩵

Two hours later, you finally finished and made your way to Southern BLVD with Davis tagging along.

"Why Southern BLVD though? What's here besides crackheads and prostitutes?" Davis commented.

The two of you continued walking down the block until you start to hear the sound of music. The closer you got to the corner, the louder and clearer the music became. It was street drummers and Leon was in the middle of them playing the electric guitar. You and Davis watched in amazement as he kept up with the drummers until they finished their last cord together.

The small amount of people that were gathered applauded them and a couple gave a few dollars before walking away.

"Yo I ain't know you could play the guitar Mr. Greenhill" Davis said.

Leon chuckled, "I'm a man with many talents son." The older male turned to you.

"I'm assuming you got something better with you this time" Leon teased.

You laughed, "Yeah I do. Wrote it from the heart like you said."

"Alright, well you better warm up that voice. You got a song to perform" Leon smiled and patted your back.

"Wait what? Right now? In public?" You questioned.

"Uh yeah. You need to submit that demo in two hours. I checked to see if you submit a live version of your demo and it said you could so get a move on" Leon said and stepped to the side.

"I don't got a beat though I just have the lyrics" You said. You were really trying your hardest not to perform in front of people severely underprepared.

"Don't worry about that" Leon said and placed the guitar over his shoulder.

Leon then played a cord on the guitar, soon the bucket drummer started feeling the vibe and matched the cord Leon was playing. Then you heard someone sweeping from behind you, it surprisingly also matched with everyone. You start to nod your head, feeling the rhythm and you grabbed the beat up microphone from the ground.

Davis pulled out his phone to start recording you.

"Can't wait for you to get home, we ain't got to go nowhere. Airplane on my phone, it can wait til the morning. I can't fathom why you choose me out billions but I'll take it" You sung. You felt your eyes close as you got lost into the music.

Soon, you finished off the song to a large crowd cheering and clapping at your performance.

"I told you let the lyrics come from your heart. You made magic tonight Jah, take pride of your work" Leon educated you.

You nodded at him and walked over to Davis who was fiddling with his phone.

"And submitted" Davis smiled at you as he submitted the demo on the competition website.

"Hard part is over for now. Now we wait" You exhaled deeply.

a/n: if you put a buck in my cup I will shut the fuck up… but you ain’t gotta be a baller to give me a motherfucking dollar…

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23 @cinffy23 @darklron @cheesybacon1 @octavias-next-meat-bite @playboysaleen @niqmandu @zaclewiss @yescruzzzzzzz @silentfor @gemz5 @alwaysdangerouschild @onceblinkarmyandmore @melonfruit442 @zataracloud @nepobaby08 @jennasslut @rimaybank @jaewu @j3nc0re @fillthwvoid

[justtwotired]

Im Vic, Can i please get something with colby? The reader would be a ex gf who runs into him when sam and him are recording a video and he asks if they could meet up after they are done recording. She says yes and sam goes back to the hotel leaving them alone maybe there are some sparks still there.

Hi! Yes, definitely! I’m sorry I posted like more then a month after your request, I’ve just been really busy with school and other writing projects of mine, but thank you so much for the req<3

I laughed as Amelia made a joke about our experience a few hours ago in the haunted house we work at. I was packing my bag to go home while she was staying to give a tour of the house to some guests who where going to check it out and come back the next night.

“Hey, unheard your tour is being recorded for YouTube,” I commented and she smiled a bit giddy. “It is! I really can’t wait, this is actually so exciting, does my hair look alright?” She asked and I laughed.

“You look amazing, don’t worry,” I reassured and she winked at me in a flirtatious way, making me blow her a kiss. “We are such girlfriends,” she joked and I shook my head with a small laugh.

“Hey, wasn’t one of your ex boyfriends a YouTuber who recorded in haunted places?” She asked and I nodded.

“Yeah, he still is, I didn’t really speak with him anymore… sometimes I wish I still did,” I admitted making her wiggle her eyebrows at me. “Oh don’t look at me like that, it’ll never happen, I know it,” I sighed and she gave me a reassuring smile.

“It’ll be fine hun, if nothing works out you can always marry me,” she said and I gave her a look. “I’m sure your husband would love that,” I said and she waved me off.

“I’d dump him for you,” she said and I snorted, going to hit her arm but she quickly dodged and stuck out her tongue at me.

“What’s the name of the YouTubers coming here? I’ll look them up to see if they’re anything interesting,” I said, grabbing my phone.

“Oh, Sam and Colby,” she said and I paused, looking at her in surprise. “You’re joking right?” I asked and she shook her head.

“No, why?” She questioned and then her face hit with realisation. “Don’t tell me one of them is your ex,” she said and I nodded.

“Jup, Colby is my ex, and I think this is my cue to go before they arrive,” I said and she hid back a smile, making me glare at her.

Of course, as if the world hated me, we heard a car arrive outside, making me want to sink trough the ground right at that moment.

With a teasing grin, Amelia walked towards the front door and I followed her, not like I could escape now anyway, my car was parked outside.

When Amelia opened the door, I immediately noticed the two of them and seemingly two friends. Sam was holding a camera and filming himself and another guy, then he pointed the camera at me and Amelia making our way outside.

His eyes visibly widened at the sight of me and he instinctively pointed the camera at Colby who seemed to be rather shocked when he noticed me.

“Hi, Amelia,” she introduced herself, shaking Sam’s hand and then Colby’s, followed by the other two who where apparently called ‘Josh and Seth.’

“Hey,” Same greeted me with a smile and opened his arms, making me pull him into a hug. We had become great friends after me and Colby became a couple, but when he and I broke up, I stopped contacting Sam as it was kind of a unwritten rule.

“Hi, it’s been a while,” I said with a small grin. I shook both hands of Josh and Seth, introducing myself, before turning to Colby who seemed lost in how to greet me.

With a small smile I opened my arms to invite him for a hug which he excepted, holding me tightly and resting his chin on my head, just like old times.

“I didn’t know you two where coming,” I said, taking a step back. “We didn’t know you worked here,” Colby said and I chuckled.

“Isn’t it a small world?” Amelia said, making Sam point the camera at her.

“You’re our guide then, right?” He asked and she nodded. “That would be me,” she answered.

“Do tell us about yourself,” Colby said and she shot me a nervous glance, making me give her a thumbs up.

“Alright, I am Amelia Cooper, I’ve been working at the -haunted house name- for about three years now and I’ll be your guide this evening,” she said and I smiled at her approvingly.

“Great, and you can introduce yourself aswel,” Sam then pointed the camera at me, making me chuckle.

“Alright then,” I said, telling the camera my name. “I have been working here for- I think for almost a year now, and I won’t be your guide for this evening because I am actually leaving, but I’m going to be here tomorrow night to receive you for your night alone,” I explained.

“Alright, great, let’s go inside then,” Sam said and shut of the camera. “I didn’t hear that you moved,” Sam commented and looked at me.

“Oh, I didn’t really, I just live with Amelia trough the week but I mostly go bakc home around the weekend, so I kind of live her, but I kind of don’t,” I said making him chuckle.

“Alright, sorry if I’m being clueless, but you know each other, because…?” Seth pointed a finger at the three of us a bit confused.

“Oh, ex girlfriend,” I pointed at Colby, making both Josh and Seth nod in understanding. “But, you guys can go inside to start the tour, I’m heading home because I think the cat will kill me if I am to late with feeding him,” I said making Amelia let out a noice of offense.

“Was that a jab at my cat?” She asked giving me a scolding look, I stuck my tongue out, making her chuckle. “I’ll see you later,” she waved and gestured at the boys to follow her, making her way back inside.

I wanted to walk towards my car but was stopped when Colby laid his hand on my shoulder. I turned to him with a questioning look.

“Hey, Uhm, I wondered if you wanted to hang out later tonight?” He asked and I felt heat rise to my cheeks, because it is actually something I really hoped he’d ask but I was to afraid to do it myself.

“Yes, sure, sounds fun,” I said with a small smile. “I’ll text you my address, you may pick me up when you’re done with the tour, we can head to the fair that’s in town,” I said, knowing he loves those.

He gave me an excited grin. “I’ll be there,” he promised and then followed his friends inside.

Later that evening, I got a text from Colby saying he was on his way. Amelia was home already and she told me he and his friends were headed back to the hotel first before Colby would pick me up.

It made sense, as they only had one car at the moment.

After about 15 minutes, there were knocks on the door and I quickly shot up from the couch and opened the door, finding Colby looking at me with a smile.

“Ready to go?” He asked and I nodded. “Of course I am,” I said and yelled a goodbye to Amelia before following Colby to his car.

“So, what have you been up to?” He asked as we were driving to the fair.

“Nothing much, just mostly working at the house,” I shrugged with a small smile. “I became interested in those kind of things because of you, you know,” I said, masking him give me a small smile back.

“I already hoped so,” he said, sending me a small wink, making me bite the inside of my lip, trying not to blush.

“And you?” I asked. “What have you been up to?” I liked at him while he kept his eyes on the road.

“Mostly just making video’s,” he admitted. “And of course a few party’s here and there,” he grinned slightly, making me chuckle.

“Yeah, I expected nothing less,” I gave him a look, making him give me a ‘guilty’ look back. It caused me to laugh and shake my head.

It was silent for a moment when we stopped laughing. It wasn’t really awkward, but not comfortable either.

“And uh,” he started. “Any new relationships?” He asked, a bit too curious if you ask me. Bit I couldn’t blame him, I’d been aching to ask him the same question after all.

“Oh, I dated about two guys between the time we broke up and now, but one was just a small fling and the other was a bit serious, but I eventually broke it off because he wasn’t really my type after all,” I admitted.

The guy I had been in a relationship with had been nice and all, but nothing like Colby, he was not what I was looking for and I had to break it off because it was unfair for him.

“What about you?” I asked, maybe a bit to intrigued, but what could I say, I really wanted to know if he had found better than me.

“Just a few flings really, nothing serious,” he admitted and looked at me. “Nothing like you,” he said, making me blush and smile rather proudly.

We eventually arrived at the fair and I immediately dragged him towards my favourite ride, making him laugh and tell me I was like a child, making me roll my eyes and whack his arm.

We stayed at the fair for multiple hours, and just like in the movies, he managed to win a huge teddy bear for me.

We eventually sat down somewhere to eat and I yawned as we sat at the table.

“Tired?” He asked with a chuckle and I nodded, combing a hand trough my hair. “I’ll bring you home, come on,” he stood up a reached out a hand, I took it and he pulled me up.

We threw away the paper cups and trays and headed towards the car.

He took my hand in his, making me look up at him with a smile, I’d missed how our hands fitted so perfectly together.

“Thank you, for tonight,” I said at the excit of the fair and he smiled at me. “I’m happy you wanted to come,” he answered.

“Can I be honest with you?” I asked and he nodded rather interested. “I really missed you,” I said, pursing my lips slightly.

“I missed you too,” he admitted with a low chuckle, I gave him a soft smile and looked into his eyes, I’d missed those eyes.

His eyes shot down to my lips for a second and I could feel excitement start to bubble in my stomach. I shot a longing glance at his own lips, making him grin at me.

He put up a hand and rested it on my cheek. “May I kiss you?” He whispered and I chuckled.

“Obviously,” I said, before standing on my toes and connecting our lips.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Trick and A Treat

Warnings: allusions to non con/dubcon, bullying, and other possible dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Here is another wish!

Please leave some feedback so I know you want me to do more of the wishes I got. Otherwise, I find it hard to keep my motivation.

Wish Corrupted: I wish Rafe Cameron would crash my Halloween party.

“I think we got everything,” you haul up the reusable grocery bag on your shoulder. 

“It’s going to be awesome,” Claire smiles back at you, “lowkey.”

“Did you hear back from Janie yet? I got the special oat milk she wanted.”

“Um, not yet. She wasn’t sure if she was chilling with us or–

“Huh, yeah, I mean, no worries,” you shrug it off. “Not all of us are cool enough to go to the shore.”

“Who wants to?” Claire wrinkles her nose, “just a bunch of drunk idiots with nothing better to do.”

“Isn’t that what college is?” You chuckle.

She hums in agreement. Neither of you have been a part of the popular crowd. You barely qualify for kook status and in your experience, Pogues are a lot nicer. It’s like walking a tightrope between them; not rich enough to skip college, and not poor enough to hang at the banks.

“I swear I saw one of my professors at the frat,” you lower your voice and giggle, “do you think they ever grow out of it?”

“Not if they can help it,” she rolls her eyes.

You chuckle and carry on. The weight of your snacks is heavier by the step. You should’ve just taken your mother’s Volvo but the walk isn’t that long and you hate to waste the gas. As you come up the incline of your street, you hear a motor rev, followed by a whistle.

“Hey, kitty, kitty,” a voice hollers and as you look back and egg cracks across your face. The shatter is painful as the shell breaks and the yolks leaks down your cheek and chin. 

“Look at that wet pussy!” Another voice calls as the truck chortles and veers off. You sputter and swipe the egg from your face, holding back a sob. You cradle your cheek at the tingling there. Ow.

“Fucking jackasses!” Claire cries out, “god! Go back to high school!” She hollers through cupped hands. She turns back to you and gasps, “oh my god, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you sniff, “I’m fine. Just egg, right?”

“I can’t believe that,” she sneers as she pulls down her sleeve and wipes your face with it, “talk about never growing up.”

“Really, it’s okay,” you adjust the bag on your shoulder and reach to take off the cat ears you picked up from the grocery store as a joke. “I’m okay.”

“It’s not okay,” she grabs the headband from you, “don’t let them ruin the fun.”

She puts them back on your head and glares up the street. She huffs and shakes her head as she grabs your hands and hurries you along. You seal your lips and blink through the swell, you’re not going to cry. High school is over, you’re an adult.

🐈‍⬛

Janie doesn’t turn up but Adelyn does. The three of you have a quaint Halloween planned. Hot drinks and horror movies, who could ask for more?

You make a mess of the kitchen with whipped cream and sprinkles before you crowd onto the couch under a shared blanket in the dark. The titles for the first Halloween play as the music sets a frightening ambience. You sip from your stacked apple cider as Claire licks cream from her fingers as it rips from the brim of her cocoa.

Adelyn turns to lean against the armrest and stretches her legs over Claire’s lap. You sink back into the cushy couch, transfixed by the classic film. You haven’t seen it in years so it’s like watching it all over again. The eerie soundtracks and jarring noises put you on edge and you sit up, leaning in as you expect Michael to pop out at any moment.

You hear a thump and look around. You can’t see much, the curtains are drawn and the screen doesn’t offer much illumination. It’s just the movie. That surround sound always confuses you. Besides, Claire and Adelyn aren’t bothered.

You lean forward and put down your sticky cup. The others are pretty much done too. You cross your arms and nestle into the side of the couch. The music turns frantic as Michael closes in on his next victim. You hold your breath…

“Boo!” The voice is right behind you.

Claire screams and throws her hands up. You look over as a shadow bends over her, grabbing her by the neck and dragging her over the back. What the fuck–

Your hair is clamped in someone’s hand as you’re wrenched against the side of the couch. You shriek as the speaker volume amps up, muffling out the real life terror. Adelyn whimpers as she hits the floor in front of the couch and tries to scramble away.

“Hey Claire Bear,” you recognise the voice as the screen glares off Topper’s features, “happy halloween.”

“Let go!” You hiss and kick out as your feet hit the floor, “get off–”

“Kitty, kitty,” Rafe’s snarls in your ear as his breath grazes against your skin, “I’ve been dying to get my hands on you.”

You can’t believe what’s happening. Your personal tormentor has you locked in his grip. Your face stings with the memory of the shattered egg, the cool drizzle of yolk down your cheek. You shiver and grasp blindly at his hands.

“What are you– why are you doing this?” You gulp out.

Adelyn is dragged under Kelce as he straddles her, groping her as the screen flickers over them. Rafe’s other arm hooks around your waist and he pulls you with him as he backs away. You flaily wildly, head stuck as he keeps his hand tight around your hair.

“Trick or treat,” he growls.

Claire screams and you hear a clatter. You don’t understand. Rafe Cameron hates your guts. He pushed your books on the floor, he shoved you in lockers, he spit on your graduation robes. He’s a monster but not the one you expected that night.

“I got both, don’t worry,” he rasps as he hurls you against a wall.

“Please,” you slide down to your knee, paralysed by the impact, “please, I didn’t do anything–”

“That doesn’t matter,” his shadow looms over you, “cause I’m about to do a whole lot of something.”

He bends over you as you shield yourself with an arm. He pushes it aside and frames your jaw, pulling your head up. He leans in as the surround sound bursts with noise, the metallic shink of stabbing and horrid screams.

“Let’s play a game, kitty,” he runs his finger along your chin, “hide and seek…” he draws his hand away, “I’ll count to ten and you can hide. Then I’ll come find you…”

“Please,” you sniffle.

“One,” he stands over you, “two…”

You put one foot down, shaking as you fight to get the other under you.

“Three,” you stand and stagger around blindly in the dark, “four,” you feel your way into the next room, “five…” you hit a table, sending a vase to the floor, “six…,” you get to the bottom of the stairs, “seven…” you hesitate and turn to face the front door. “Eight…” you stumble towards your escape, “nine…” hand on the knob, “ten.”

The door opens and you dash out. Three steps before you yanked back. You whimper as the door slams shut just as quickly, kicked by your accoster.

Rafe’s arm hooks around your neck and he pulls you back. He chuckles as he hauls you with him, dragging you to the stairs, your feet bouncing off each step as he ascends a step at a time.

“Not fast enough, kitty,” he taunts, “I choose…” his other hand crawls down your stomach and cups your cunt as he reaches the landing “treat.”

[daisyblog]

Jonny's Place

Harry's House Masterlist Summary: Harry realises he likes YN more than just a friend.

Harry had always known he’s loved YN. They’d grown up together since they were babies as their Mums were best friends. Following in their Mums footsteps, they become best friends too. Each night after school they would be in either one’s house, or as they got a tad bit older they would head out to the greenery situated behind their houses. 

It wasn’t until YN came to live at their house when her Mum passed in an accident, and her father and step-mum decided to leave her without a home that Harry realised his love for YN was more than platonic.

He remembers comparing the feelings he felt for YN and how he felt for his other girl friends, Jenny and Fern. Sure, he liked them and enjoyed hanging out with them but he didn’t feel like he wanted to impress them or he didn’t feel jealous at the thought of them being with another boy. But when he thought about YN being someone else’s, he felt anxious. 

He began to feel nervous around her, stuttering when he tried to speak. His tummy would flutter when he would hear her laugh or smile at him. He couldn’t help but notice the little changes in her appearance as they grew older. He’d catch himself staring at her a little too long and Jonny raising his eyebrows at him in a questioning way, but Harry would shyly look away when he’d get caught.

Harry hadn’t admitted his feelings to anyone, until Jonny began to question him one evening after football. It was just the two of them left after the session and Jonny had caught Harry staring or acting shy around YN for a while. 

Jonny was in the middle of tying his shoe lace as Harry was putting his things into his bag. “So what’s up with you and YN?”.

Harry kept his focus on placing his stuff into the bag to avoid looking in Jonny’s direction. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

A scoff left Jonny‘a lip and a small chuckle. “Oh c’mon mate…you literally stare at her anytime she speaks…or shall I mention your stutter every time you talk to her”.

“I…I…I’m just confused”. Harry admitted his genuine confusion if he still saw YN as a friend or more.

“Confused about what?” Jonny didn’t understand. 

Harry stood up and glanced at his friend. “I think I like her more than just a friend.”.

“And what’s wrong with that?”. Jonny continued to question Harry, not really understanding what the big deal was.

“It’s hard because we live in the same house, it’s not easy to tell her I like her more than a friend.”. Harry was getting frustrated, he just wished the situation was simpler.

“She likes you too.” Jonny stated, almost like it was fact.

Harry’s head shot to look at Jonny. “What do you mean?”.

“YN likes you too…I can tell.”. 

“How are you so sure?”. Harry wanted to believe Jonny, but it was too good to be true.

“Just believe me man…I don’t just notice how you look at her, I see how she looks at you too.”. 

Harry had a slight smirk on his face, he couldn’t believe that maybe YN liked him more than a friend too. 

“You’ve got it bad mate…look at your face.” Jonny teased Harry.

“Oh shut up Jon…I still don’t know how to make a move though.” Harry confessed. He’d thought of everything, but nothing seemed right.

Jonny shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t over think it H…we’ve got film night tomorrow night at mine, she always sits next to you so just be casual and make your move then.”.

Maybe Jonny was right, perhaps he needed to stop putting the pressure on himself. 

---

It was Saturday which means Harry and YN were working in the bakery this morning. They both enjoyed it, it means they could still spend time together, earn money and get to joke around with the women who worked there. 

After they finished their shift at the bakery, Harry and YN walked home. Anne made them both some lunch which they both ate and chatted about school with her. 

“So where are you both going tonight?”. Anne asked Harry and YN as they finished eating their lunch, knowing that every Saturday they went to a friends house or Anne’s.

“We’re going to Jonny’s tonight for a film night.”. Harry told him mum. 

“Be careful..and if you need me to pick you both up just let me know.”. Anne spoke to the two teenagers, before they went off to their rooms to get ready. 

---

Harry and YN walked together over to Jonny’s house. On the way, YN spoke “Um..there’s a girl in my maths class..and she’s friends with this boy…but she thinks she likes him more than a friend…and she doesn’t know what she should do.”. 

Harry couldn’t help but think of the irony of what YN had just explained because that’s the predicament he was in right now. “And what did you say to her?”.

YN shrugged her shoulders as they continued to walk side by side. “I didn’t say anything…what do you think she should do?”.

Harry thought a little before he spoke, knowing he was in the exact same position as this girl. “I suppose it’s hard…because she probably doesn’t want to jeopardise their friendship…but at the same time doesn’t want to regret not telling him how she is feeling.”.

They didn’t finish their conversation as they had arrived at Jonny’s house. The others hadn’t arrived yet, meaning it was just Harry, YN and Jonny. YN excused herself to use the bathroom, leaving Harry and Jonny alone.

“Have you made your move yet?”. Jonny asked Harry, desperate to know if his friends had stopped mopping around.

Harry shook his head. “No but on the way over here…she was talking about this girl in her maths class who likes her friend more than just a friend.”.

Jonny stared at Harry, not believing how naive he was being right now. “She’s talking about herself.”.

Harry frowned his eyebrows. “What?”.

“There is no girl in her maths class who’s told her that…I sit next to YN and she doesn’t speak to anyone else.”. Jonny admitted.

Harry rubbed his hands over his face. “What is going on?”.

“H…YN was talking about herself…she wanted to see what your reaction would be”. 

Before Harry could respond YN came back into the room. “What are you guys talking about?”. YN asked, as she took the seat next to Harry.

“Nothing.” Harry was quick to say, sending Jonny a look.

Soon Noah, Fern and Jenny arrived with bags of snack and drinks ready for their movie night. 

Whilst the boys prepared the snacks and drinks in the kitchen, the girls set up the living room with blankets, pillows and duvets and a few fairy lights around the tv. The boys had chosen an action film to put on, because the girls had chosen a film the last time they had a movie night. 

The group were all laying on the floor, where the duvet, blanket and pillows had been set up. Fern and Jenny were sat together, with Noah and Jonny next to them and Harry and YN the opposite side.

Harry could feel Jonny’s eyes glancing in their direction every so often. But Harry chose to keep his eyes on the scream in front of him. He was aware how close YN was to him, he could feel their arms brushing every now and then.

He felt his phone vibrate against his leg. He thought it may have been been his mum checking on them, something she did every time they were out.

Jonny: Make your move

Harry took a glance at Jonny and shook his head at how risky that would be. But before Harry got chance to put his phone back in his pocket, another message from Jonny came up.

Jonny: Put your arm around her, a friendly cuddle won’t harm😉

Harry knew YN wasn’t a huge fan of physical affection, and that was down to her father for being so cruel to her. But for whatever reason, she never flicked Harry’s hand away if he teased her like she did when Jonny or Noah did it. 

Not wanting to think too much about it, Harry gently placed his arm around the back of where YN was sitting. He thought she may have moved away but what surprised him was when YN moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder.

Harry smiled to himself, proud that he’d actually managed to make the first step and proud that YN accepted physical affection. Jonny sent him a big thumbs up, he was proud of his friend.

YN stood up from a place a little while later, making heads turn at her sudden movement. “I’m going to get some fresh air a minute.”. Before she headed towards the kitchen and the back door could be heard opening.

“I’m going to check on her.”. Harry announced, wanting to make sure she was okay. The others agreeing, knowing it was best if Harry was the one to go. 

As Harry walked outside into Jonny’s garden, he noticed YN sitting on the garden swing. Approaching her, he asked “Hey…everything alright?”, before sitting down next to her. 

“I lied to you earlier.” YN’s voice was quiet, shame written all over it. She didn’t look at Harry once.

Harry wasn’t sure what YN was referring to. “Lied about what?”.

“There was no girl in my maths class…I was talking about myself.”.

Harry’s heart was picking up some speed at the words. He couldn’t help but remember what Jonny had said to him earlier about YN talking about herself. How did Jonny know so much?

“So you like a boy more than a friend?”. Harry didn’t want to get his hopes up that the boy YN was talking about was him. 

YN nodded as her eyes met Harry’s. “Not just a boy….you.”.

“Can I tell you something?”. Harry’s voice came out quiet, not wanting to spoil the calm atmosphere. When YN nodded, he continued. “I like you more than a friend too.”.

YN’s tense shoulders were now relaxed, a huge weight had been lifted once she realised that Harry had been feeling the same way. “Really?”.

Harry chuckled, “Yes..really…why do you think I was trying to cuddle you in there?”.

YN shrugged her shoulders, still not quite believing this was real. “Thought you may have been cold.”.

“No…it’s because I don’t want us to just be friends anymore.”. Harry confessed.

“Me either.”. YN agreed, mirroring Harry’s smile. 

Taking Jonny’s advice about not thinking too much, Harry leaned in slightly towards YN and to his relief YN followed. Their lips were gentle against each others, Harry carefully brought his hand up to rest on YN’s cheek. 

They both pulled apart and giggled at how silly they had both been this whole time, and if only they had told each other sooner.

---

After that night at Jonny’s place, Harry and YN decided it was best to keep being “friends” when they were at home. Their friends had found out pretty quickly as they were all stood peering around of the kitchen window, instead of watching the film. They had teased them when they returned inside but were also happy for their two friends.

It wasn’t unusual for Harry and YN to go for a walk together, so when the pair had announced they were going up to the bridge behind their house, Anne and Robin thought nothing of it. 

Harry was quick to interwine their hands as they walked up the path towards their favourite spot. They both enjoyed coming up to the river that was surrounded by fields and greenery. 

As they got to the river, they walked across the stones carefully, Harry helping YN across not wanting to let her fall. Harry challenged YN to see how far she could throw the stones into the water. But YN failed miserably, causing them to burst into laughter.

They continued their walk further up into the fields until they stopped to rest their legs by the trees. Catching YN off guard, as she stood against the tree, Harry held her cheeks in his hands and presses his lips to hers. The kiss become passionate, rushed and steamy compared to other kisses they had shared. 

They pulled apart when they heard some voices further down the field. They noticed a group of people walking back towards the path. “C’mon let’s go home.” Harry took YN’s hand and led them both back home. 

It was in that moment that Harry realised that Gemma had spotted them. 

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @harryssattelitestomper @haarrrys @hittiesontour @theekyliepage @itsmytimetoodream @harrys-flower