#cheers lads! popping one open this time around

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen: Wembley

Plot: After a devastating blow is dealt to Y/n and Keeley, Jamie invites Y/n to join him for his England debut.

Word Count: 6.4k

Warning: f!reader, language, alcohol, allusion to smut

A/N: GUYS WE HAVE ARRIVED. I had to take an unexpected month break because I was just burning out. Thanks to all of you for staying patient and being so kind. But y’all, I’ve been looking forward to this chapter for a long time. I won’t say too much or else I’ll say everything so relax, sit back, and enjoy 💖

——————

Y/n wasn’t sat at her desk refreshing her inbox every fifteen seconds.

Absolutely not.

She wasn’t.

Except she was.

She knew full well that Ted had the list of which Greyhounds would be playing during international break. She could pop downstairs and probably hear the announcement. But it wasn’t her place to barge in on the boys’ moment. And that was fine with her. Totally fine.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she mumbled, waiting for the league’s PR department to end her suffering.

Finally, it arrived.

Y/n leaned closer to her laptop screen and flew past the pleasantries. The names…

She exclaimed something between a gasp and a scream.

Without another thought, she leapt out of her chair, flew through the hall and down the stairs. Luckily, the team was just heading out for practice.

“Let’s go, Greyhounds!” Y/n cheered, an echoing chorus following.

She hugged and congratulated Colin, Dani, Van Damme and Bumbercatch, all of them giddily accepting her thanks. Y/n had a new appreciation for each of the Greyhounds after observing so many training sessions. They put their hearts and soul into their craft and deserved every bit of their success.

As the boys headed out to the pitch, Y/n stayed in the hall, waiting for one player in particular to emerge.

Finally, Jamie came out of the locker room nearly bursting with joy.

As if she could feel the air change, Y/n spun around, grinning. The two of them collided in a crushing embrace, Jamie lifted her off the ground.

“Oh my gosh,” she squealed into his shoulder, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Jamie said. He’d taken an extra long minute fixing himself for training. He’d heard Y/n’s voice in the hall congratulating the lads and wanted to share his own moment with her away from everyone else.

He finally set her down, giving Y/n the chance to properly face him. “Jamie,” she bounced a little, gripping his shoulders, “England. Fucking England.”

Jamie laughed, still holding onto her hips.

“Fucking England,” she said once more, looking him over proudly, “This is amazing.”

They stood there, inches away from being back in each other’s arms, til Ted and Beard’s distant voices grew closer. They dropped their hands just as the coaches came out of their office.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted greeted as he walked past. Beard nodded.

“Hey,” she smiled.

Jamie shot her an apologetic look as he trailed after them, wishing nothing more than to stay in the hall, just the two of them. Y/n smiled at him once more, sending him off with something he could hold to the rest of the day.

A 10-game streak, a stacked international break…somewhere months ago, Y/n would have been waiting for the other shoe to drop. A plane to fall out of the sky. Some natural disaster to hit.

No, all was well. And it felt damn good.

—————————

It all came crashing down a few days later.

Keeley and Y/n had met for a morning coffee before work. Keeley was back to her normal self, post-leak and post-Jack. Y/n was glad for it, the universe felt unbalanced if Keeley wasn’t her usual sunshiny self.

At the KJPR office, they waited for the elevator. Once it arrived, a casually dressed man pushed a dolly of boxes past them.

“Didn’t know anyone was moving out,” Y/n commented as they got in the car.

“Me neither,” Keeley replied.

The doors opened on their floor and they exited, coming around the corner only to nearly get clipped by two movers with a couch.

“Shit!” Keeley exclaimed, grabbing Y/n’s arm as they jumped out of the way.

Y/n eyed the rest of the room. All the desks were covered in boxes and most of their furniture had disappeared.

“Keeley…” she said lowly.

Dan, a man Y/n had only met properly once or twice, walked up to them. He was carrying a box of desk supplies in both hands.

“Keeley,” he addressed, “You are the nicest boss I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you, Dan,” Keeley replied, brows knitted in confusion.

“And definitely the hottest,” he finished.

“That’s a complicated compliment.”

Dan left with a thanks, moving past the two women.

“What…” Y/n trailed off.

Keeley led them to Barbara’s office, who was also packing up her desk.

“Barbara, what’s going on?” Keeley asked, “Are we being slowly robbed?”

“Oh,” Barbara ceased her packing, “Wait, I’m sorry. You haven’t spoken with Jack?”

“I haven’t heard from Jack in weeks.”

Barbara stammered, “But she emailed me last night to say that she was gonna reach out and tell you.”

Y/n’s stomach clenched with familiar dread.

“Tell me what, Barbara?” Keeley asked.

Barbara, for all the grief she’d given Keeley, didn’t appear to take any pleasure in delivering the news. She had to steady herself even. “The board of the VC have decided to pull funding. They’re shutting down KJPR.”

Y/n’s breath left her chest.

“What?” Keeley whispered, “When?”

“Oh, well, don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of time,” Barbara reassured, “We don’t have to be out till Friday.”

Keeley was barely audible, “It’s Wednesday.”

Barbara faltered, “Yeah, I suppose that is…quite soon, isn’t it? Especially if you didn’t get an email last night.”

When there was nothing else to say, Barbara awkwardly went back to packing her things, leaving Keeley and Y/n dumbstruck.

Somehow, Y/n made her feet move out of the office and into the main space. Her head was spinning. It had taken less than a minute to crack her world open and split it in two.

“I need a minute,” Keeley mumbled.

Too stunned to reply, Y/n wandered off into the conference room. The table and chairs were still there, she sunk into one of them.

As one of the employees, Y/n should have gotten an email like anyone else. The only factor that could have changed that was Keeley. Jack knew they worked closely together, they could be considered friends. If this was revenge on Keeley for their break-up, Jack wouldn’t hesitate to take it out on those closest to her ex. And just like that…Y/n became collateral damage.

She rested her elbows on the table, running her hands over her face. The first job she’d ever loved, and it was gone. Every part of working for AFC Richmond that she adored, had just been taken from her. No more training, no more time with the fans, no more overseeing pressers and interviews, no more coming down the hall and seeing the boys…

The tears came quick.

A few moments later, Keeley knocked on the door and entered at Y/n’s mumbled ‘yeah.’ Both women had wet eyes and snot under their noses.

“I’m so sorry,” Keeley managed over the lump in her throat.

Y/n sniffled, her hands covering most of her face. If she was being honest, there was a small part of her that resented Keeley. Never get involved with someone from work, that was corporate 101.

“Me too,” she replied. Regardless of her bad judgement, Keeley hadn’t deserved to lose the company. She wasn’t the one at fault.

Keeley took the chair next to Y/n’s, feeling like a stray tree in the wind. Swaying, ready to break at the slightest gust.

The very thought of what had to be said sent a stabbing pain through Y/n’s gut.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll pack up my things this weekend. At Richmond.”

Keeley didn’t think she could handle any more, but knowing that Y/n was losing the place that made her happiest just worsened the blow.

“Thank you,” Y/n whispered, “For…coming up to me in that bar.”

It was that sentiment that sent Keeley back over the edge, the gentle sobs returning. On cue, Y/n’s followed and the two of them twisted to grip each other’s hands, sitting knee to knee. They mourned all they had built, together and apart.

—————————

Eight months after her last sacking, Y/n was in the exact same position: sat at a bar, drinking a glass of red wine.

This time, the bar was her flat. Being anywhere around people sounded horrifying. She was content to wallow in the apartment she already feared she’d have to give up.

Unlike the other times she’d been let go, Y/n couldn’t bear to think about the next steps. The minute she’d told Keeley she’d get her things from Nelson Road, she’d banished the thought. She couldn’t bear the thought, the pain of telling the boys, Rebecca, Ted…of leaving the parking lot for the last time. Every time her mind began to try and think practically, she took another sip of the merlot.

The depressing silence was broken up by a ring of her doorbell. Y/n let her head drop as she dragged herself off the barstool. She couldn’t come up with the name of a single person she wanted to see at the moment.

Trudging down the last of the stairs, she looked through the peephole, seeing a familiar mop of mussed up hair and sharp cheekbones.

Y/n quickly wiped under her eyes, praying her waterproof mascara had done its job. If she wasn’t ready to tell anyone the news, Jamie was in a category of his own. The thought of not seeing him every day was crippling.

She opened the door, Jamie flashing a smile as soon as he laid eyes on her.

“Hey,” Y/n grinned thickly, “I thought you were supposed to be up in Stafford.”

“Yeah, just got back,” Jamie glanced back to the street where his car was parked.

“How was it?”

“Fucking,” Jamie shut his eyes, still beaming, “Mental.”

Y/n genuinely chuckled. At least one of them was doing well. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Jamie finally got a good look at Y/n. Her face was drawn, despite her smile. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and her gaze was distant, despite being zeroed in on him. “You alright?”

Y/n thinned her lips in an exaggerated frown and shrugged, “Yeah, fine.”

Jamie wasn’t convinced, “You sure?”

Clearly months out of practice from hiding her feelings had left her skills dulled. Y/n sighed, leaning up against the doorframe, “It’s just been a long fucking day.”

“What happened?” Jamie’s brows knitted in worry.

“Nothing specific,” Y/n lied straight through her teeth, “Just tired.”

Jamie nodded, slightly assured that he could move onto the reason for his visit.

“Well, hey, I think I can cheer you up,” he took a breath as if preparing for something big. “Come with me to the match.”

Y/n tilted her head, “What?”

“The Wembley match. They’re puttin’ us up in a hotel tomorrow night, and the game’s on Friday,” Jamie explained, hope glistening in his eyes, “Come with me.”

If they were discussing some random away game, Y/n wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But this…this was England. This was something Jamie had dreamed of since he was a child. This meant everything to him, and he wanted her to share it with him. Y/n didn’t take a word of it lightly.

“I can get ya an extra room,” Jamie took her stunned silence as doubt, “I’ll tell ‘em I need my publicist with me.”

“I don’t think being the club’s publicist gets me that kind of privilege,” Y/n tried to ignore the ache in her chest. That title didn’t belong to her anymore.

“Does if you’re with me,” Jamie smirked.

Y/n chortled, “Right. I’m rolling with the big dogs. Forgot.”

“Look,” Jamie took a step closer, his hands resting in the space between them, nearly reaching out to her. “I really want you there. Really.”

There was a softness to Jamie’s stare that he always saved for Y/n, and a determination he wore any time he stepped on the pitch. If she didn’t want to come, he wouldn’t force her, but he wasn’t going down without fighting his hardest.

Y/n really had no reason to say no. She wouldn’t be at work, she had no commitments…and honestly, getting away sounded nice. To step outside of Richmond for a little while and get some distance before she had to deal with the reality of her situation. And more than anything, she wanted to cheer on Jamie.

“Okay.”

Jamie’s brows shot up, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/n smiled, her first true one of their conversation.

“Great,” Jamie grinned and fiddled with his hands, “Okay, uh, I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 12-ish. Drive over together.”

“I mean, I can drive myself,” Y/n replied, “You don’t need to be picking me up with everything you’ll have going on.”

Jamie shrugged, “I know.” There was no discussion to be had.

“Okay,” Y/n conceded, “I’ll be ready.”

“Okay,” Jamie smiled, awkwardly holding the silence. He didn’t want to let the conversation end, but there was nothing left to say. “Well, uh, I’ll let you get back to your night.”

“Go,” Y/n gestured to the street, “Rest. You’re only representing the whole country.”

He laughed, walking backwards to steal one last glance at Y/n. If someone would have told Jamie that eight months before, his ex-girlfriend’s new hire would end up meaning enough to him to share his England debut with, he wasn’t sure what he’d have thought. But he wouldn’t have believed it. “See ya.”

Y/n gave a small wave, matching his warm smile until the distance forced them to break. She was still neck deep in shit, but for a moment, the sun felt like it was shining.

—————————

Y/n supposed as she packed her overnight bag, that if she forgot anything important, she could just Uber back to her flat. For whatever reason, she was afraid she was leaving something off the list.

The initial excitement she’d felt when Jamie had invited her had long since died. It seemed the depression that set in after losing your job took twenty four hours of fermenting to truly come to life.

She was nearly done packing when she was sorting through a drawer of t-shirts, spotting a brightly colored blue and red one she had tucked at the bottom. She pulled it out and unfolded it.

The jersey Jamie had gifted her for Christmas.

A small smile pulled at her face, remembering the night he’d given it to her. True to her word, she hadn’t worn it to any matches. She couldn’t possibly give him that satisfaction.

Through the insanity that was working at AFC Richmond, there had been many constants. Ted’s awful jokes, Roy’s sour mood, weekly tea with Rebecca…but Jamie had l become the most unexpectedly steady thing in Y/n’s life. A safe place to land in any situation. If it wasn’t for Jamie, she wasn’t sure how she would have made it thus far.

She smiled.

Without a second thought, Y/n folded the jersey back up and tucked it in her suitcase. Jamie was the focus, and she’d amplify his joy however she could.

Her phone pinged with a text alert, the man himself messaging her that he was parked outside. Y/n zipped up her bag, grabbed her purse, and headed downstairs.

Jamie was propped against his car, spinning the keys in his fingers. He supposed he should have felt nervous, twenty four hours away from his England debut, but he felt at peace. He wasn’t entirely sure why until he spotted Y/n’s figure coming down her street.

“Jamie Tartt, do do do do do do,” she sang once she got close enough, “Jamie Tartt, do do do do do do…”

“Lovely,” Jamie chuckled before reaching out for her bag, “Let’s have it.”

“There’d better be room for it,” Y/n handed the suitcase over.

Jamie popped the boot, “How much you think I travel with?”

“I mean, hair products alone has to equate to two carry ons,” Y/n replied, “Jewelry, trainers, socks, that’s another two…the ego’s gotta take up, what, four?”

Jamie shut the boot, leaning on it as he listened. “I’m happy to leave you here. Watch the match on Sky Sports.”

“Sorry, too late,” Y/n smirked as she rounded the car, Jamie met her on the passenger side. The two of them stood with mere inches between them. “You’re stuck with me, Tartt.”

Their smug smiles melted into something far more warm, the emotional weight of the trip was too overwhelming to be ignored too long.

“Not a bad deal,” Jamie said softly.

“You’re playing for England,” Y/n whispered.

Jamie’s grin spread up his cheeks, reaching to tug Y/n into an embrace. Gentler than the one they’d shared after the news had broke, but matching in enthusiasm.

“Right, gotta get going,” Jamie broke away and went to the driver’s side, “Check-in’s in an hour.”

The traffic they hit made it so they’d arrive just at their appointed time. On the way, Y/n avoided any topic that could tie them back to work, and Jamie recounted a party he’d attended two days before.

“Wait…” Y/n laughed, “You’re telling me that Roy Kent - Roy Kent - has to wear a tie-dye shirt?”

“Swear down,” Jamie replied.

“Roy Kent,” Y/n repeated. The image was too insane to imagine. “Growling-in-the-halls, leather-jacket-wearing, black-coffee, black-clothes, black-everything Roy Kent.”

Jamie nodded.

Y/n fell back against the seat, “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not playin’ ya,” Jamie laughed, one hand resting comfortably on the steering wheel, “Saw it with me own eyes.”

“And I can’t believe it till I see it with mine,” Y/n shook her head. “So, wait, you left training because Phoebe called you and invited you to a party for a pretend holiday for the man who makes your life a living hell?”

Jamie wasn’t sure how to explain it. How his relationship with Roy had gone from childhood idolization to rivalry to tolerance to mentor/mentee to…something almost, nearly, bordering…friendship? But when he’d gotten the call from Phoebe and her mum, Roy’s niece inviting him to Uncle’s Day, he hadn’t needed to give it a second thought. He’d even taken the time to track down a gift meaningful enough to crack Roy’s stony exterior.

“Dunno,” he shrugged casually, “Didn’t want to disappoint her.”

“Mmm,” Y/n nodded, pretending to buy it, “Nothing to do with the fact that you two are actually…friends?”

Jamie looked out the window, checking the space around them, “Right, you can walk from here.”

Y/n snorted, crossing her arms across her chest. Beyond the teasing, she found it incredibly sweet that Jamie would drop what he was doing not just for Roy, but for Phoebe. It echoed the same kindness he’d shown to Henry when he’d visited. She supposed it came from Jamie’s childhood, the same drive she had to make sure any kid she came across was happier than she’d been at their age.

“It’s cute.”

Jamie quirked a brow as he switched lanes, “What?”

Y/n shrugged, “Jamie Tartt’s got a soft spot for kids.”

The tingling in his chest confused Jamie. But knowing Y/n thought him admirable was…nice.

He played it off, of course, “Haven’t even told you about the play.”

Y/n slapped her hands together, “Oh, please God tell me it was interactive.”

“It was fucking Shakespearean,” Jamie laughed, before launching into the multi-hour long production Phoebe and Roy’s sister had staged.

Once they arrived at the hotel, they checked-in separately. It was an easy way for Y/n to keep herself out of any photo sightings of Jamie and she was extra happy she’d thought it out when some of his teammates arrived. She headed to the elevator while Jamie greeted them, loading into the car. Once he saw she was already off, Jamie rushed through goodbyes to catch the lift with her.

“Right,” Y/n said as they landed on the 10th floor, looking between her key and the door numbers, “I’m 502.”

“507,” Jamie replied, “End of the hall, I think.”

They found Y/n’s room first and paused outside the door.

“Right, so dinner tonight?” Jamie suggested, “I mean, it’ll mostly be me watchin’ you eat, but…”

“Jamie, no,” Y/n screwed her face, “We can have dinner literally any other night. Go be with the team.”

He knew that was what he was expected to do, and part of him wanted to go bond with the boys but…she was here. And as much as he wanted to hang with his teammates, everyone drifted to second priority when Y/n was around.

“You sure?” Jamie asked.

“Yes,” Y/n insisted, reaching out and taking his arm, “Go enjoy this. You earned it. I’m just gonna get room service and get to bed boringly early.”

Jamie chuckled, looking down at the ground. His skin jumped to life under her touch. “Alright,” he smiled up at her, “I got a ticket reserved for you at will call.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

“And…” Jamie searched for something, anything else to say, coming up short, “Yeah. Think that’s it.”

“Hey,” Y/n squeezed his arm, beaming with pride, “You’re gonna kill it.”

Jamie’s smile grew in the way only she could harvest out of him. Something about her belief in him made him feel like he could play the whole fucking match himself.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he said, though he didn’t move.

“See you tomorrow,” Y/n echoed, rubbing his shoulder before breaking apart and unlocking her door. Jamie took it as his cue to drag his own suitcase down the hall, five doors down.

Y/n did a lap around her room, taking stock of where everything was. It was a nice fucking hotel, though she shouldn’t have expected anything else. She set her suitcase in the corner, there was no need to go to the trouble of unpacking for a two night stay.

She dropped onto the edge of the bed. With Jamie off and the room mapped out, there was nothing to do but sit with her thoughts.

Y/n sighed, her chest returned to feeling hollow, knowing this life was about to disappear. No more traveling with the Greyhounds, the endless chatter on long bus rides, her room being sandwiched between two of they boy’s and dealing with their late night shenanigans that typically resulted in a large check being written to the hotel…

She grabbed the bedside phone, dialing the corresponding number on the paper below it. She couldn’t deal with being sad sober or on an empty stomach. “Yes, room service? Can I have a bottle of wine and the chef’s special delivered to room 502? Thank you.”

It was going to be a long night.

——————

The next morning, Y/n took advantage of getting to sleep in on Friday. The game wasn’t until noon, she set her alarm for ten. She ordered breakfast to the room and ate in bed. Sadness went well with pancakes, she found.

Eventually, she got dressed for the match. She smiled to herself as she slipped the ‘#9’ jersey over her tank top. It would be the first, and most likely only opportunity she’d have to wear it.

Wembley was close enough to the hotel that she didn’t bother ordering an Uber, choosing instead to join the crowds and walk. She’d forgotten just how massive the stadium was when she arrived at the ticket booth.

“Hi,” she greeted the guy working will call, “There should be a ticket under the name ‘Y/l/n.’”

The man fished through a few envelopes before reaching into one and slipping a ticket under the glass window. “Enjoy the match, love.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

It had been years since Y/n had been to Wembley, the last time for a concert fresh off of graduation. She couldn’t remember the section numbers and locations to save her life.

Once she got inside, she found a security guard. “Excuse me? Could you point me towards section…” she read her ticket once more, “120?”

The guard glanced at her ticket before pointing her towards a massive staircase. “All the way down, midfield.”

“Okay,” Y/n headed off, calling back to him, “Thank you.”

She melted into the crowd and followed them down the stairs. She kept looking between her ticket and the descending rows of seats, realizing when she hit the ground that Jamie hadn’t just gotten her a seat…he’d gotten her one in the front row.

Y/n made her way down, past families and groups of friends, finding her seat was on the aisle. It allowed her a perfect view of the field, Jamie would most certainly be able to spot her.

The atmosphere before the match was a welcome cheeriness, Y/n couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement of it. It was hard to be depressed with 90,000 people around you cheering and singing.

The teams marched out onto the pitch, their respective fans standing and screaming. Y/n was on her feet as soon as England was out, spotting Jamie towards the back. He was on the reserve squad and came out near last. She hoped he would get at least a few minutes on the field.

Jamie was caught up in the moment enough that he didn’t search for Y/n. Knowing she was there was enough.

By the second half of the match, England was up by a point, but Jamie still had yet to get on the pitch. Y/n was fidgeting more with each minute that passed, hoping that this would be the point that #9 would tire out enough and Jamie could sub in.

Finally, it happened. Jamie came off the bench as one of the refs held up the board, announcing Jamie’s arrival and his number. #24.

Y/n pressed a hand to her heart, her lips falling open in a loose smile. It was a hell of statement after their #24 had been passed over for the Nigerian league. But more importantly, it was an incredibly touching gesture. Sam had to have been beaming shyly, wherever he was watching from.

Jamie got onto the pitch and first ended up assisting in one goal. When the clock came down to the last five minutes, he shot across the field, catching the ball from one of his teammates and running it down the pitch.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes glued to him. He could make it.

Faking left and spinning around to the right, Jamie power kicked the ball toward the net, evading the goalie and landing a perfect shot.

Y/n shot out of her seat with the rest of the crowd, screaming as loud as she could.

Jamie looked pleased, his nearest teammates slapping him across the back in congratulations. He turned to the crowd and grinned, soaking in the moment he’d been waiting for since he was a kid. The whole stadium was cheering for him.

His eyes floated to section 120, finding the furthest seat and the woman occupying it. Their eyes met and Jamie caught the unmistakable Greyhound blue underneath her coat, his chest suddenly swelling with something deeper than pride. She’d worn the fucking shirt.

Y/n grinned at him, raising her fists above her head. Jamie patted his chest, just above his heart, smiling right back at her.

England ended up winning, of course, and Y/n felt like she was floating. She couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough, hurrying through the concourses till she found two doors with ample security stood outside.

“Hi,” she said, nearly out of breath, “I work at AFC Richmond. I need to see Jamie Tartt,” Y/n pulled out her phone as she saw the guard inhaling to turn her away, “I have proof of employment.”

She pulled up an email exchange with Higgins and held up her employee ID, matching the signature to the card. The guard nodded, “Come with me.”

Y/n followed down the hall, stopping outside the locker room as the guard instructed her to wait. The commotion inside could be heard all down the hall, chants and cheers from the boys echoing off the walls.

A few seconds later, Jamie emerged, soaked in champagne and sweat.

Neither of them hesitated to launch into one another’s arms, Jamie full on lifting and spinning her around. They were a mess of laughs and squeals and smiles.

“You did it,” Y/n grinned, her arms tight around Jamie’s neck.

“We fucking did it,” he growled happily, still twirling her in the air.

“Jamie,” Y/n laughed as he finally dropped her. She held his face in her hands, “You were incredible. You were fucking amazing.”

Jamie beamed, finally feeling whole. He’d been waiting all day to hug her.

“My gosh,” Y/n smiled, on the verge of tears.

“Not a bad seat either, yeah?” Jamie smiled.

“You just fucking played for England and that’s what you wanna talk about?” Y/n exclaimed as she lightly shoved his chest.

Jamie’s hands fiddled agaisnt Y/n’s waist, the adrenaline from the game still pulsing through. He rubbed the extra material of the shirt, his shirt, between his fingers.

He cocked a brow, “Thought you said you’d never wear this.”

Y/n shrugged playfully, “I had a compelling reason.”

There was enough electricity running through them both without the added crackling of their hands, the pure lightning that was striking between their eyes. It was a moment so full of emotion, if it lasted much longer, it stood the chance to naturally lead to something…

“Oi! Tartt!”

Jamie and Y/n dropped their hands, the outside presence causing embarrassment they didn’t know they felt. Jamie nodded back at one of his teammates, “Yeah?”

“Get the fuck back in here,” he gestured back to the room. The celebration hadn’t stopped in Jamie’s absence.

“Yeah, be in a minute,” Jamie distractedly smiled before turning back to Y/n, “Right-“

“Jamie,” Y/n shook her head, smiling knowingly, “Go. Go celebrate your moment.

He hesitated, truthfully, he didn’t want her to be so encouraging. “Yeah, but we gotta celebrate too,” Jamie reached out for her hands.

“And we will,” Y/n replied, squeezing his palms, “But now, you’re gonna go in there, you’re going to get absolutely shit-faced and create a million horrible headlines for me to issue a million and one apologies for.”

Jamie snorted and stared down at their intwined hands. Half of him was itching to get back in the locker room, the other stayed right where he was.

“Go,” Y/n repeated.

Jamie tugged her back to his chest, the two of them fitting together as perfectly as ever. He was so unbelievably glad she’d said yes to coming. Looking out into the stands, seeing her cheering for him had boosted his spirits in a way nothing else could.

Even as he broke away, he left backwards. “I mean it,” Jamie pointed at her, “We’re fucking celebrating.”

Y/n just laughed and shoved the air, staying till he disappeared back into the locker room. Jamie’s ecstasy was feeding her, the victory lifting them both up sky high. She was so glad she hadn’t turned him down.

The security guard escorted her out to the concourse and she found her way back to the hotel. Each street was echoing with chants and cheers for England, the whole of London was buzzing. It was beautiful.

Y/n got back to her room, turning on the TV to Sky Sports and watching the recap. Jamie, of course, made the conversation, both his goal and his kit number were heavily discussed.

Y/n smiled when Sam’s name came up, pulling her phone out and sending an array of appropriate emojis to the young Nigerian along with his number. He fired back a few red hearts in reply.

Roughly an hour had passed when there was a knock at the door. Y/n slid out of bed confused. She hadn’t ordered dinner yet.

She opened the door to find Jamie, hair combed, showered and out of his kit, leaning against her door frame.

“I thought I told you to go spend time with the team,” Y/n chuckled in surprise.

“I did,” he shrugged, “Now it’s our turn.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t kill the growing grin. She wanted the day to be everything Jamie wanted, but she couldn’t deny the ever-present desire to stay in his field of gravity. If he was here willingly, she wasn’t going to fight him.

She matched his posture and leaned against the frame, “What’d you have in mind?”

“Dinner, club,” Jamie listed off the options, “Go to the top of the Shard, scream as loud as we can.”

Y/n laughed, “I can do that.”

“Good,” Jamie smiled, looking down at his watch, “You got twenty minutes.”

“Clearly you learned nothing dating Keeley,” Y/n scoffed, “Put thirty on the clock.”

“Fine,” Jamie relented, “I’ll be back in thirty minutes exactly. That’s it. Not waitin’.” He couldn’t even pretend to be that strict, a smile contradicting his words.

Y/n gave a two fingered salute, “I’ll be ready.”

She shut the door, hearing him shuffling down the hall. In her suitcase, she’d packed a dress, knowing the chances of Jamie and her going out after was a distinct possibility. She also thought she was crazy to assume that at all. Yet still, she’d gone to the trouble of picking one out, laboring over the choice far longer than it should have taken.

Within thirty minutes, Y/n managed to shower, do her hair and light makeup, slipping into the dress and her sneakers at the twenty-nine minute mark. She gave herself a once over in the mirror, giving herself a pat on the back for exceptional work in such a short time frame.

On cue, there were three knocks at the door.

Y/n grabbed her purse and unlocked the door, Jamie once again stood in waiting.

He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected when he’d told Y/n they were going out for a night on the town, but whatever it was…wasn’t what he got. Y/n was stunning, gorgeous, in a strappy pink dress, her hair tied up. It was all in stark contrast to how she usually dressed around Nelson Road, all business attire or jeans on a casual day. This was…this was something.

“Wow,” Jamie managed, his eyes running up and down her form.

Y/n took an honest look at Jamie for the first time of the night. His usual floppy hairstyle and headband had been swapped for a blow dry and a neat side swoop. A deep blue dress shirt was unbuttoned a bit further than other men’s and a dark textured blazer layered it, finished with dress pants, actual shoes and a gold chain. He looked good.

“No trainers,” Y/n was lost for anything else to say, “It really is a special occasion.”

Jamie chuckled, still unable to tear his eyes off of her. It was going to get awkward if he didn’t stop soon.

He offered his arm, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Y/n slipped her arm through Jamie’s and they strolled down the hall.

Once they’d slipped out the lobby, they hailed a cab and Jamie gave the driver an address. They arrived at a five star rooftop restaurant and bar and made their way to a table, the thumping music and chatter of the weekend crowd enveloping them. A fair amount of the other patrons were celebrating England’s victory heartily.

“Look at this,” Y/n smiled, a group of people excitedly describing the game as they passed their table, “You did this.”

“Wasn’t just me,” Jamie replied.

“Yeah, but you were part of it,” Y/n corrected, shaking her head, “Jeez, Jamie…you scored a fucking goal.”

“I did, yeah,” Jamie grinned and admitted, walking the line between humility and cockiness as only he could.

Y/n waited a moment, admiring the joy in Jamie’s eyes as his eyes followed the fans. It was childlike, pure and wild.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna wear #24,” she eventually said.

Jamie nodded, “Just felt right. It’s mad they didn’t pick him.”

“It is,” Y/n agreed, looking out at the darkening London sky, wondering how Sam was actually holding up. “But that was brave, wearing it. Like you were giving whoever didn’t choose him the middle finger.”

He chortled, his eyes lingering on her longer and longer each time they found her. Jamie was losing the battle to look away.

Y/n was the first to drop her gaze. Like always, there were ghosts dining with them. She’d been itching with concern for Jamie all day, but hadn’t said anything.

“So…how was it being back? At Wembley?”

Jamie caught the meaning instantly, it wasn’t exactly far from his mind. As much fun as he’d had, being back in the locker room had inevitably triggered unpleasant memories.

“Bit weird,” Jamie admitted, “But…I don’t know. I think I was too distracted to think about it too much.”

“That’s good,” Y/n gently smiled, “Of course, now I’ve brought it up and…”

Jamie reached out and took her hand reassuringly, “And nothing.”

Y/n’s lips tugged upwards slightly, squeezing Jamie’s palm.

A horribly timed interruption caused them both to have to tear his gaze away, the waiter returning with their drinks. He took them both and handed Y/n hers.

“Alright,” she scooted forward in her seat, “What’re we drinking to?”

Jamie sighed, thinking a moment, “Well, to me, obviously,” he got a laugh out of Y/n, “To the team. To England. To Richmond,” he swallowed, “To you.”

Y/n raised a brow, “To me?”

“Yeah,” Jamie smiled coyly, “You comin’ here, cheering me on. Knowing you were there…”

The humor of the moment was gone entirely, replaced by sweet sentiment. Jamie and Y/n’s friendship had come to mean more to them than they could have guessed that first night in Sam’s restaurant. Or the time they’d run into each other at the Crown and Anchor, spending an hour pouring over apartments for Y/n. They had become each other’s north star. They were a part of one another, reflecting the best of each other back.

“To having a good night,” Jamie continued, unable to finish his last thought, “And not worrying about anything. Not thinking about anything. Just celebrating.”

Not all of the time they spent together was so serious, but one of the basis of Y/n and Jamie’s bond was their mutual pain. So many of their conversations somehow traced back to her parents, his dad, how they were the way they were because of their failures. Not to mention, Y/n had the news of KJPR’s shutdown weighing on her back. She’d have to break the news to Jamie come morning.

But tonight, tonight was a night for none of it. They would drink, they would laugh, and they would revel in Jamie’s accomplishment.

Y/n clinked her glass against Jamie’s. “To not thinking.”

And that’s exactly what they did. They didn’t think as they ordered a second round of drinks.

Or a third.

They didn’t think as they went to a club, pulling one another close to dance.

They didn’t think as they giggled their way back to their hotel.

And they certainly didn’t think as they stumbled into Y/n’s room, a collision of roaming hands and eager lips.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[hotvinimon]

The Meet

Yandere gym bro x reader

Plot : First encounter with the yandere gym bro

Author’s note : The images are not mine. I don not support this kind of behaviour and highly condemn these activities. This kind of behaviour is not tolerated in actual life.

Warnings : MDNI. The images are not mine.

Join my taglist - Here

As the new year began, you were all set to tackle your resolutions head-on. You had achieved "Glass Skin" and landed a "Good Job." The final item on your list: attain that classic "thin and built figure."

You've embraced your curves your entire life – the envy of many! Your figure boasted a petite waist, a cherubic face, bouncy tits and hips that danced with every step. But, much like everyone else, you also longed for something you lacked: muscles.

And so, here you are, signing up for an annual gym membership. "This is a fabulous health leap you're making, ma'am," chirped the receptionist, selling the benefits of the gym like hotcakes. "When do we expect you?" she asked eagerly. "I'm thinking 6 AM," you gleefully replied. "Oh, splendid! Few souls at that hour," she exclaimed. "You can start tomorrow. Cheers to your fitness journey!" she concluded, flashing that professional smile and tone.

Next day rolled by, and here you were starting your fitness journey with a set new gym clothes. A sports bra and sports shorts, that sat just below your ass.

True to the receptionist's assurance, the gym was deserted at that early hour, save for a single individual, a strapping lad, bulging with muscles as if they were molded from solid granite was working out. With each sinewy movement, his muscles rippled and flexed beneath his skin, showcasing an impressive display of power and strength.

He strides through the gym, his broad shoulders squared, exuding an air of confidence that commands attention. The veins in his arms pop with every curl of the weight, his biceps swelling and contracting with controlled precision. His chest, a wall of carved steel, expands with each deep breath as he conquers the bench press effortlessly.

The sweat glistens on his chiseled physique, accentuating the definition of every muscle group - from the sculpted abs that resemble a washboard, to the powerful thighs that propel him through each exercise. His dedication to fitness is evident in the way he attacks every set, pushing his limits with an unwavering determination.

As he moves from one machine to another, the gym seems to revolve around him. His intense focus, coupled with the raw power he emits, inspires a sense of awe among those around him. He is the epitome of strength and fitness, a living testament to the results of hard work, discipline, and dedication in the gym.

"Enjoying the view, young miss?" a deep voice growled beside you, causing a startled reaction. You turned towards the voice, wide-eyed and flustered. It was the very Greek god-like figure you'd been daydreaming about. He chuckled at your reaction, and you fumbled for words, blurting out a classic “N-No No… uhh.. actually I wasn’t able to open my water bottle.” You blurted out and patted yourself in your dreams for coming up with such a nice excuse. Corporate does benefit sometimes. “And I suppose you want me to open up that for you ?” The man asked. “I would really appreciate that”, you chirped happily.

After the encounter you made sure to not let your gaze wander and do what you were here for.

And oh sweetheart, Little did you know that someone had their keen eyes on you, imagining all the things with your bouncy assets in the slutty gym dress, that wasn’t supposed to be worn in gym which could have been filled with testosterones but luckily you chose the very wrong right time.

After two hours of grinding, you were relaxing on the bench, where your ‘bottle opener’ came. “Are you new here miss ?”, he asked. “It’s y/n and yes. I joined yesterday” you replied with a cheery voice. “I’m Casper, and that’s great tho. How about a coffee down the street ?” He offered.

" Sure Caz~ "

V-Chan’s Dilly Dally

My exams are finally over. And here is the first masterpeice after exams. I really hope you guys like it. Please tell me the next steps. Also comment to join the taglist.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

I know damn well for a fact that Bakugou is deeply frightened of contortionists and double jointed ppl (me). Imagine a reader who’s a total cunt about it 😈😈

The UA’s first years talent show was a complete hit, and being the shy creature you were, you offered to work behind the scenes with Kirishima and the others. It was a total success, with rapturous applause and cheers. However, due to your shy nature, it wasn’t until you had snuck off to the haunted house team that someone had noticed you had gone.

SFX had always been a nifty little hobby of yours; hours spent in front of your bedroom mirror deftly applying latex and fake blood proved to be very useful during Halloween parties, and even day to day practice. That and the fact that you were a practicing contortionist made Shinsou and the other members of Class 1-B sought you out.

“Pleaseeeeeee Kachaan!! The haunted house sounds like so much funnnn!” Kaminari whined, pulling on Bakugou’s shirt. Katsuki knocked his hand away with crackling hands.

“No fuckin’ way, spark plug! It’s a fucking waste of time,” he yelled back. Kaminari glared at him before his face shifted into one of a playful foxes.

“Oooooooh? Is the mighty Kachaan of the Bakugou’s a (dare I say) PUSSY?!” Kaminari exclaimed, emphasising the last word. Katsuki smacked the back of his head in irritation. Carmine eyes glared daggers into the other blond’s skull as Sero slung his arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“Pluuuuus, I heard resident cutie (Y/N) volunteered to be a scare actor. She’s so shy, so it’s difficult to imagine. I bet she looks adorable, like a cute lil zombie who didn’t quite turn,” Sero purred, sleazy grin already applied. Katsuki contemplated before grunting in annoyance.

“Shut the fuck up, elbows and dunce face! Damnit, can’t believe I’m gonna fucking do this,” he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and stomping to the grounds.

After paying for the tickets for all three of his friends (“I’m sorry Bakubro, my wallet is in my other trousers!”), the trio made their way through the house.

Shinso and the others popped out, managing to scare Denki and Hanta with ease. Denki let out the occasional scream and bolt of lightening, causing Bakugou and Sero to smack the back of his head.

The overall ambiance was something Bakugou wasn’t impressed with; cheap lights, a shitty background soundtrack and the few odd jumpscares from his underlings. He would rather slit his throat than admit it, but he was looking forward to seeing you. You had a natural talent for scaring people; being shy and quiet made it easy to sneak up on your friends, intentional or not. So he was intrigued to see how you would pull out the stops.

The final room was cast in a deep purple glow with a large box in the middle. A metal handle was attached to the side of said box, completely still.

Bakugou rolled his eyes and tried for the exit, only to widen his eyes at the locked door.

“T-this isn’t funny man! Open the door!” Denki begged, being scared too much today.

“I’m fucking trying! Stupid thing is jammed!” He grunted in effort. Just then, a creepy song started to play from the music box. The tune of “Pop goes the weasel” filtered through the air as the boys watched in slight alarm.

The music stopped just before the chorus of the song. A slight creak came from the box. A blackened foot crept out, it’s pair soon following.

Your legs tangled themselves out of the box with grace before you manipulated them in different knots and pretzels. Your head snapped to the boys, letting out a terrifying screech as you crab-walked to them with dizzying speed.

A loud scream was let out, but it was not from Denki or Sero. It was from the blonde who was trembling and sparking his fists. Denki had jumped into Sero’s arms as the two controlled their hyperventilating.

You stared at the lads before cackling your ass off.

“OH MY GOD, WAS THAT YOU BAKUGOU?!?” You couldn’t believe it! The stoic faced blond who had stared death in the face more times than a 16 year old should, was afraid of a little gymnastics routine. Bakugou calmed himself down, steeling his nerves before glaring at you with the intensity of a thousand suns.

“Not. A. Fucking. Word. To. ANYONE. Understand?” He hissed through gritted teeth. He couldn’t believe his crush was able to scare him so badly, just by walking on your legs and back weirdly.

Your laughter subsided as you looked at him properly. For some reason, you felt at ease. You rearranged your limbs so you were standing properly. Your newly confident nature gave you the extra push.

“I’ll tell you what. To apologise for scaring you so bad, I’ll take you to that spicy mapo tofu place. Say, Saturday at 1?” You tilted your head, makeup still unnerving your crush.

“Tch, fine. But you’re paying,” he agreed, completely forgetting about his entourage who were staring at him wide-eyed.

You nodded and smiled widely, false fangs glinting in the purple light. You went back to the box, placing yourself in with ease. The door behind the boys clicked, leaving them to tumble themselves out and blink into the sun. It was silent for a whole 15 seconds before Denki opened his mouth.

“OH MY GOD, KACHAAN HAS A DATE!” Denki yelled before Bakugou slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Not a fucking word about today. Understand me sparky?” He hissed. Denki nodded in intimidation.

“Good, now piss off. I need to go get something,” he muttered, pushing past his friends with his phone in his hand.

Boneless Banquet 🥨

Pay for dessert and promise to never do that shit again, and I’ll pay for the next meal

[jamiesfootball]

Augusnippets Day 24

Alternate Prompt: flashbacks

cw: implied/referenced child abuse, referenced past choking/strangulation, flashbacks, panic attacks

Summary:

He shakes his head and swears warmly, the way he must’ve done a million times before– “I should fucking strangle you.”

Sequel to this

Here on AO3

It’s a fucking joke. Roy doesn’t really mean it.

It’s the third time that morning that Jamie tries to steal a sip from Roy’s water bottle, despite the fact that his own bottle remains halfway full. He’s spent all morning doing his best to rile Roy up – jogging faster than Roy can keep pace, singing the same four lines from that annoying pop song on repeat, running backwards ahead of him despite Roy’s repeated shouts that he’s going to trip and fall and then Roy’s going to make him crawl home.

Jamie grins at that. His bright orange water bottle sloshes as he tosses it back and forth between his hands, and he smarts back that that’s the only way Roy could beat him in a race. Then without pausing, he asks if Roy’s planning on using last night’s chicken to make chicken salad for lunch, because that’d be mint.

It’s a normal fucking day.

So when Jamie ducks into Roy’s space again, grinning wildly and unabashedly pleased with himself, it’s second nature for Roy’s arm to raise up to fend him off.

Also second nature: the low growl it elicits when Jamie dances out of reach. Roy doesn’t even consciously think about moving; his reflexes have him taking a step forward to catch his would-be water poacher by the nape. His hand cups around the back of Jamie’s neck. He gives it a short squeeze, and something irritatingly, blisteringly fond digs fingers into his ribs. He shakes his head and swears warmly, the way he must’ve done a million times before–

“I should fucking strangle you.”

Jamie, bouncy and restless and maddeningly cheerful, goes completely still. The skin under Roy’s palm goes cold, chilled like he’s been doused by a bucket of ice water. The light in his eyes flicks off, all traces of emotion blinking out of existence between one second and the next, replaced with a horribly blank nothingness. Like Roy’s accidentally gone and found the button that finally turns him off.

The neon-bright water bottle, with its stickers and spare headband wrapped around the lid, slips out of lifeless hands to fall dead on the grass. The cap spills open. Water sloshes everywhere. Jamie takes a quick step back. Then he wobbles, then his legs give out, and Roy barely manages to grab him by the shoulders. He guides him shakily to the ground.

“Hey. Hey. That’s it, easy. Down, that’s a good lad, that’s good. Come on, now, breathe for me..”

Jamie pulls his legs up to his chest, his forehead digging into his knees. He’s gasping now, his breaths turned into sharp, whistling hitches. One of his hands fists into his joggers; the other curls into his shirt, pulling the neckline away from his throat as he struggles to breathe.

Roy crouches beside him, running his hand along his back in rhythmic, steady circles, the way he would if it were Phoebe or Keeley or any of the people he was somewhat qualified to console.

After what feels like a million aching years, the panting begins to subside. The tension in his back unwinds. His hands uncurl, his fingers white with how painfully tightly they’d been twisted up. The front of his shirt is stretched beyond ruin, and his hand trembles as he tries to flatten it back down.

Jamie finally reappears, warily peeking up. He’s still pale-faced and blank, but there’s an alertness behind his red-rimmed eyes that wasn’t there before. Confused, he takes in the park and the grass and the old ladies in the distance and the parents with their prams and picnics before his attention finally lands on the person kneeling in front of him.

He croaks out a hoarse, “What?”

“Here,” says Roy. He holds out the water bottle that started this mess. “Drink this.”

He waits anxiously as Jamie unscrews the cap. He doesn’t take more than a sip, and even that small amount makes him sputter, coughing weakly into his shoulder.

After an elastic stretch of silence, Roy dares to ask, “Has that happened before?”

Jamie chokes on a laugh. It’s a scornful, cutting noise that Roy never wants to hear again. “Yeah. Yeah, you can say that.”

Roy frowns. “More than once?” He’d fucking hoped it was a one-off.

Jamie spins the bottle absently between his palms, watching the liquid swish around. With feigned indifference drawn around him like a shield, he shrugs. “A few times I guess.”

“Ok.” Roy nods woodenly. “All right.”

He settles his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie jumps a bit at the contact, but he doesn’t pull away, and Roy considers that a victory. He doesn’t know what the fuck else he’s supposed to be doing here. After witnessing something like that, it feels like he should have something to say, but he doesn’t. He should’ve asked Ted more questions. He should’ve joined the Diamond Dogs years ago, if only for the practice. He should’ve started therapy when he was nine.

After going in circles over whether or not it’s a stupid question, Roy takes the risk and asks, “Is there something specific that triggers it or some shit?”

Is there anything I can avoid to make sure that never fucking happens again.

The hastily drawn bravado trembles like a mirage. Jamie cocks his head, confused. A vulnerable shadow flickers across his expression. “What?”

“Is it you know-,” Roy spins his hand in the air, “-is it brought on by anything?”

They stare at each other blankly, two hamsters spinning on different wheels. Jamie’s speedy little rodent gets there a half second sooner. He shrinks back, his shoulders bunching up protectively around his ears. “Oh. Oh. You thought I meant-“

“What did you think I was talking about–“

It clicks.

Roy hates that it clicks.

He sits down on the grass; his sister can come pick him up later if he has trouble standing up. This is too important.

“Thought for a moment there that you were gonna choke me,” Jamie spells it out. Simple, ugly words that bruise to hear. “Knew you wouldn’t, but–“

“It’s happened before,” Roy finishes.

Jamie drops his head back onto his knees with a sharp exhale. Nods.

“I never knew when it was going to happen,” Jamie confesses. “I mean, I could usually tell when he was in a bad mood. Whether it was a bad day or whether it was something I had done. But I could never tell if it was gonna be… that.”

It isn’t news that his dad’s a piece of shit; it’s just the breadth of it that’s staggering.

Roy doesn’t think he’ll ever get to the point where hearing the details doesn’t make him want to put his fist through a wall — or better yet, James Tartt’s face. Honestly, he never wants to; he never wants to get to the point where he takes these harsh glimpses being shared with him for granted.

More important than all of that is the hunched figure sitting beside him, tearing grass from the earth in tense clumps as he waits for Roy’s verdict.

“Shit,” Roy says under his breath. “Jamie. That’s fucked up.”

Jamie freezes. Slowly, he unclenches his fist. Blades of grass trickle out of it, blown free by the wind. With a note of hope in his voice, he says, “Yeah?”

It’s such an earnest question it breaks Roy’s fucking heart.

“Yes,” Roy insists. “Fuck. Christ, Jamie. You didn’t deserve that shit.”

“Might’ve. You don’t know.”

“The fuck I don’t,” Roy snaps. “No one deserves that shit.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t always tell that, could I?” Jamie bites back. His shoulders rise defensively. “You know what they say: the pot doesn’t fall far from the kettle.”

Jamie flops back in the grass, arms folded petulantly across his chest like he’s won the argument. The neon orange bottle lays empty at his feet, and Roy’s plain black one sits next to it like a menacing shadow.

Roy inhales sharply between his teeth. He’s trying not to be the shadow.

“That’s not what they say.”

“I’m pretty sure it is. You know, how once a table’s been flipped over, they can tell where it was standing before because everything sort of falls in the same direction?”

“That’s not–,” Roy cuts himself short. He takes in Jamie, the way he’s splayed out like a frog ready for autopsy: pinned open and vulnerable to poking. He is, Roy’s beginning to realise, eerily good at pretending his trauma isn’t on display, and even better at getting Roy to fall for the act.

Like there's a chance Roy might go home and forget he ever said anything.

Roy shakes his head. “Actually that makes some sense.”

“See? Told ya.”

“But it’s just a metaphor. That doesn’t make it true,” he adds forcefully. “If anything, your dad isn’t the kettle in that situation; he’s the man flipping the table.”

Jamie blinks up at the sky. His eyes shine. “Yeah. Maybe.”

After a brief moment’s hesitation, Roy lies down next to him. He’ll regret it when he tries to stand up again, but for now that doesn't matter.

The sky is stupidly blue. A brisk wind slides in from the north. Families and old ladies and loud teenages and sloppy, happy dogs circulate around the park, lives continuing on their merry way with no concern for the two resting figures in the grass.

“Do you ever wish you were a frog?” asks Jamie, already moving on, lacing up his boots, and preparing to leave the moment in the wind.

Roy lets him. It’s the least he can do. That, and brace himself for the day it all catches up. Roy doesn’t need to win the race; he just needs to be waiting at the finish line.

Until then, it’s a normal fucking day.

[coachs-locker-room]

Are there any beer bottles lying around? I know lots of guys leave half empty bottles around with a mix of their spit and sweat.

As the owner of the gym, the messages and clean-up required after a team has won the match are some of the worst parts of this job. You probably heard the cheers from the local rugby team’s banter echoing through the whole faculty. When one beer turns into two, that turns into a few - there are often half-drank bottles laying around to be cleaned up. Who could blame them, though?

In situations like this, it’s easy to mistake one beer for someone else’s - or to get swept up in the crowd. You wandered into the locker room without any intentions or connection with the team, but simply by being nearby, you were handed a glass bottle by a tall, well-built-looking fella with a familiar and handsome face.

“When our lads win - everyone wins!” He gave you a wink, popped off the cap, and moved on to the next guy without a drink in his hand.

Without any hesitation - and let’s be honest, after a stressful week of deadlines you deserved it - you cheered and took a swig of beer on behalf of the team. Before you had even removed your shirt and trousers, the bottle was almost empty, and your ambition to leave the room to start your workout had, too. Without your knowledge, or even asking, the handsome fella had swapped out a second bottle for your first, keeping you topped up the same as everyone else.

The crowd - now really getting rowdy - had filled the floor with muddy knees and kit, as every member of the rugby team was in various stages of undress. Teasing, joking and grabbing each other for a chant - the celebrations had no end in sight without any authority figure to be seen.

“Time to hit the showers, lads!” You heard the voice of their Coach, booming across the floor. The noise and fooling around of the lads still taking place, though, through their respect for their Coach, started moving towards the communal showers.

Watching on from the sidelines - now halfway through your third bottle of expertly switched beer - and with no desire to start your workout you laughed along as a bystander. Showering in cold water, making crude “drop the soap” jokes, and slapping each other with towels. You were happy to be a bystander until a wet, naked player was suddenly pushed out and in your direction.

“Fuck, sorry mate” he laughed, patted you on the shoulder and immediately went back into the crowded shower leaving you with a wet back and no idea which beer you just dropped.

Looking around, you saw several identical bottles beside you. Most were half empty and only one was mostly full. As the last non-player in the room, you thought to yourself, “this WAS only my first.. right? I only opened one… so I must have drunk more than that…”

Completely buzzed from the alcohol, inhibitions slipping away, you threw aside your good intentions. You reached out and took a half-empty bottle, took a big swig, and immediately let out a burp.

The lads cheered.

You downed it.

They cheered again.

As quick as you finished the last sip, you were on to your next, and then your next after that, and then the one after that barely counted. As your muscles, hair and body fat continued to inflate and grow from the mix of beer, spit and sweat from the other lads. As you started to fit in physically, you started to take on their mannerisms as well, indistinguishable from the person you were before. Before you knew it, you were undressed, naked, and thrown into the bath, all on Coach’s orders.

Surfacing up, confused but still enjoying yourself, another pre-opened half-empy beer was handed to you to drink. You’re one of the team, now, and when our lads win, everyone wins!

—-

Feel free to send me a tip on Ko-Fi and for more tf locker room posts and to request your own, follow @coachs-locker-room

[ask-elland-n-will]

It's been a tumultuous few days leading up to the holiday, filled with parties, cheer, warmth and happiness.

In fact, it's been quite unlike a happiness Andrew has ever known. The holidays he had experience before being happily abducted by the Abbots was nothing like what the family had shown him just in the past few days. He didn't mind being stuck with them whatsoever, and minded even less to be stuck with his favorite redhead.

Once we got a few quiet moments, he very pensively took out a small wooden and carved box, on the top - a very small fox.

He had been lost in thought over the past few months, mostly about Will. Each time his mind had wandered, he found his hands needed to be put to use as well to help him think. So he took up wittling, and each time he thought of Will, he would carve at the same time.

Carefully, he puts the gift on Will's bed for him to find when he returns from the last minute errands he and Elland had gone on.

Next to it, a note:

My Fox,

A small token to show just how often you have been on my mind these past few months. This started out as a hunk of wood, but quite like me, became something more refined and more special all because of you.

You've made this year, and this Christmas, unlike any of the others. I hope you know how special you are to me...but if you do not...open this box and a song will play for you to remind you.

Merry Christmas Fox.

Your Monty

*upon opening the box, you find a melody fills the air that sounds quite similar to this song:*

Just as expected, Andrew has no problems integrating into the Abbott's household. Will's parents must have felt that if their son brings a boy over for Christmas to stay with them the entire time, then it is not as simple as "Els crashing for a weekend" or "Allegra wants to bake something."

His mother sees Montrose and how he behaves around them: a little unsure, clearly nervous and so obviously in love with Will that she instantly knows: they need to keep that boy. And keep they do, with chats, food, celebrations, party games, meeting all and every one of Will's relatives who are always all over the Abbott manor this time of year. Invited or not, staying over in numerous guest chambers or just popping in to wish Merry Christmas. Will has the pleasure of watching Monty deal with two of his aunts that even he isn't sure are his aunts, nor if they are different people or the same witch living in two different bodies.

William's father watches Montrose and twirls his ginger moustache, hiding a smile before inviting the lad for a talk. Will isn't worried about that in the slightest. He's sure his papa might only give Andrew the slightest of scares to see if the Ravenclaw can stand up for himself with dignity. And then there would be an embrace. Will is pretty sure that it's going to be even more of a test for his crush than the stern talking. But his parents better rip that plaster off right away: Andrew will be hugged in this household whenever either of Will's parents thinks he needs a hug.

At some point, Will also has to have a talk with his parents about giving Andrew some space. He knows they must have recognized Andrew's last name and that's why they were anxious for a time before they interacted with Andrew themselves. It's not surprising, considering that they work for the Ministry and Will has heard rather unsavoury things regarding Andrew's family before. The little snake isn't even sure he wants to ever meet Andrew's father. Or brother. Andrew hasn't talked about his mother much but Will hopes that there are at least some good memories in that head of his in connection to her.

Whatever his parents heard about Andrew's family must have left an impression on them because upon the initial introduction and seeing how different Andrew is, his parents go into an obvious protective mode, spoiling the boy with attention to the point of Will hiding Monty in his wing of the manor under different pretences. Not that Mr. and Mrs. Abbott are not considerate people. But Will has a sneaking suspicion that since he is the only child and his parents always wished to have more, Andrew's presence makes them feel complete. And what better way to make sure that Andrew stays than to make sure he feels included in all the family traditions?

And so he is involved in everything the Abbotts do, from eating breakfast to riding horses. Will manages to catch only one hiccup during their happy Abbott activities, when his parents organize an ice slide one crispy snowy morning. He doesn't know why Monty clammed up and held back the entire time but he made a little note to come back to it. Later. The look in Andrew's eyes is akin to that he has whenever Will mentions something that reminds the Ravenclaw of the events from his past. The Slytherin would never push but his heart aches: he hopes that someday Andrew will see the Abbotts as his own family, too.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

William leaves the manor for half a day on Christmas Eve to go see Elland's family back in London. He's been doing it every year since they met, and both he and Elland put on a little show for de Strontiums every time. Technically, Cyrus is also a part of that but the redhead insists that he performs separately so that he has at least four people in the audience who he can surprise with his tricks. His parents more than his wizard friends but everyone knows how deep Cyrus gets into his little passion projects. Will does charm the entire room to be fireproof, of course, and for once Cyrus doesn't complain: he's had plenty of accidents as a kid to know that some injuries stay with you for the rest of your life.

The prefect floos back to an empty manor. His house-elf informs him that everyone went out for a walk since the weather is so nice, and Will smiles at the thought. Seems like his parents kept Andrew busy. He just needs to change and go find— Oh?

William instantly knows who the little box is from. The wizard sits down and takes it into his hand, brushing his fingers along the carved wood with bated breath. He didn't know Monty could do that. The little fox looks so cute that Will lets out a quiet "aww", impressed and deeply touched. Of course Monty would get him— no, make him something fox related. Not to be the one to spoil his own surprises, Will reads the note before opening the little box that he has already sworn to treasure forever and ever.

The wizard isn't sure when his eyes started to fog up but he has to stubbornly wipe the happy tears away not to let any of them fall on the parchment. This Christmas truly is unlike any other. This time last year he never even imagined being this happy. Moving past his unrequited crushes. Being with somebody who likes him back. Likes? Well, they haven't talked about it yet, but William has moved past that stage a while back. Perhaps even happier things are bound to happen this Christmas. He is sure Monty feels it as well, after meeting Will's family, after being unconditionally accepted by them as if Andrew is their own son.

Will lifts the lid of the box by the fox's cute little snout and the music indeed starts playing, perfectly Christmasy, making Will giggle and swing a little in place in rhythm to the music. Clever Monty using his clever Charms. Music touches his heart as much as the words did and Will ends up spending a few more minutes just sitting on the bed sobbing, stubbornly wiping the tears away: he is happy, why is he crying!

One of the older house-elves that has known Will since he was a baby apparates into the room with some lavender cupcakes on a plate and a fresh cup of tea. They all know what their young master needs when he is in such a state. Gestures like this one, without ever being asked, are a normal occurrence, and Will nods through tears, letting the elf go with a smile. The elf bows and says before disappearing:

"The young master should know, everyone s' gathered by The Tree outside if the young master wishes to catch up."

That's right, he came here to change! Will does so in between the cupcake bites and his Earl Grey, finding the warmest clothes he can because who likes being cold on a day like this? He will not be replying to Monty's note. Instead, Will is going to find the Ravenclaw and tell him all he thinks about him, and his sweet words, and his thoughtful present! Silly Andrew. His Monty. The one person Will loves.

[myloveforhergoeson]

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3 • 4

Find me on wattpad + ao3

Show: Big Time Rush

Pairing: Jams Diamond x Original Female Character

Chapter 5: Just the Girl (1.5)

In the small amount of time between the end of school and the beginning of work, Roxy and Big Time Rush could often be found by the famous Palm Woods pool to soak in some sweet Los Angeles sun. While the girl typically used the time to either relax or get some homework out of the way, the guys were mostly focused on picking up girls - despite not being famous yet. 

Finally outside after a long morning of learning, the five picked their usual lounge chairs and began their normal activities. Roxy laid out her schoolwork and supplies at the end of the lounge chair line, carefully pulling her skirt a bit higher up her thigh to help avoid getting any strange tan lines. Next to her, Carlos let out a joke wolf whistle as he set up his area and switched his black helmet out for a pair of blue sunglasses.

“What time is it?” Kendall asked, pulling on his shades.

“It’s girl time!” The other three answered as they scanned the pool for any potential targets. 

How they think they can win girls in board shorts and t-shirts is unfathomable.

After their little call-and-response schtick, the boys stood up, and the Jennifer’s appeared on the other side of the pool, walking in slow motion toward the group. Each of them were dressed in a cute pool outfit, making sure to show off all their best features. Even their matching hats bounced in sync as the trio made their way to the tables near the café.

The band reached their hands out in greeting, but the three girls didn’t even let them get a word in as they continued to walk by.

“Talk to us when you get in the top ten…” Brown-haired Jennifer started, hand up in a “stop” motion.

“But not before,” Curly-haired Jennifer finished as they kept on walking.

The boy’s deflated attitudes didn’t last for long as Camille, dressed in the cheerleader’s uniform Roxy had given her a few days ago, appeared at Kendall’s side. True to form, she gave the blond a tremendous slap across the face and began to monologue. 

Her face was scrunched in anger, “How could you? With my mom in the hospital and my huge fight with my best friend, and my zit?” 

It was clear she was expecting some sort of reaction from any of the five, based on how she pointed to her made-up zit and paused after her dramatic one-liner.

“Hey, Camille!” Roxy called from the chair behind where her friends were standing, deciding against trying to do her pre-calc homework for now. Everything going on around her was far more interesting than a few math problems. “Degrassi audition?” 

The rage she displayed seconds ago faded into a big smile, “Wish me luck!” 

Raising her hand, she slapped Kendall one more time for good measure before heading back to the lobby of the hotel.

As they watched her leave, Carlos spotted some more ladies to try and place the moves on.

Oh, this’ll be good.

“Simms twins!” Carlos cheered, pointing in the girls’ direction. 

Heading toward the cabanas at the back of the pool, the beautiful women made their way down the stretch of concrete in their adorable matching outfits. 

Quickly, James pushed his friend’s hand back before the twins took notice. Even the mega-flirt could recognize when his chances were low. 

“Too risky!” He hissed, “You know they get pretty upset if you get their names wrong.”

A completely understandable fact from the assistant’s point of view. 

There was one issue with Carlos, however, his impulsive nature never let him think before he opened his mouth; he normally picked whichever of their names popped into his head first without attempting to learn their correct ones. As his friend had cautioned, the girls hated when their names were mixed up and were not afraid to let that person know it.

Ignoring the long-haired boy’s warning, Carlos stepped into the path of the sisters just as they passed in front of their lounge chairs.

“Hello, ladies.” 

Mandy and Sandy both took off their sunglasses and stared the boy down - one set of eyes was intimidating enough, but two… He was in for disaster. 

As per usual, before conversing with anyone, one of the twins asked the same simple question.

“What’s my name?” Sandy inquired.

Roxy would’ve been able to enjoy Carlos’ face contort from suave to scared if his glasses didn’t obscure his eyes. Clearly, he had not thought this through even with James’ warning. 

“Uh…” His finger pointed back and forth between the two before he took a shot in the dark. “Mandy?”

Wrong choice. The boy was alerted of this when the girls let out a pair of twin growls and reached out, balling his shirt in their fists. With all their might, they managed to pull him completely off balance and throw him into the pool. 

An incredible display of determination and strength was inspiring, but the songwriter was mostly focusing on doing her best to block her papers from any stray droplets as they splashed up from Carlos’ impact.

Satisfied, the twins strutted off and took shelter in the green canopies of the cabana at the edge of the pool.

“Can you please go one day without soaking my homework?” Roxy sighed, complaining openly to all her friends. After a few days of trial and error, it was getting a bit frustrating to watch her friends try to pick up the same uninterested girls. “Also, Sandy always walks to the left of her sister. It’s not that hard to remember.”

The three on land rolled their eyes at her comments as they flopped back down into their chairs after two crushing defeats in a row.

Thank god those four don’t treat me like that. 

Taking Carlos’ empty seat to Roxy’s right, James turned to her. “Only nerds do their homework directly after class, you know?” 

“Maybe if I wasn’t so busy constantly cleaning up your messes I’d have time to do it after work. Oh, wait,” She held her finger up to her cheek in fake thought. “That’s never happened.”

Dejected, Kendall took his sunglasses off and admired the expanse of the pool. “Stop it, you two. You’re ruining the moment.”

“He started it.”

“Did not!”

With a humph, she waved the antagonist off and dove back into her notes. 

There was peace for only a few more seconds before Kendall sighed. “Why can’t there be a nice, sweet, nice girl at the Palm Woods?”

The five lived at a world-famous hotel with countless teen wannabes checking in and out daily. Safe to say there were plenty of nice, sweet, nice girls at their residence, they just never bothered to pick anyone willing to give them the time of day.

“Somebody not crazy or stuck-up, that’s still really hot.” James added, affirming his friend’s thoughts.

Besides Camille and I… Good luck.

Logan continued, adding onto their collective chain of thought, “From… North Carolina.”

Just as Carlos finally swam up to the edge of the pool, the voice of hotel manager Mr. Bitters scratched their ears as he made his way through the double doors from the lobby and out to the pool area.

“Well, it’s not North Carolina.” The five of them turned heads. “But I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here. Let me show you your apartment.”

As he passed by, a young, blonde woman stood in the doorway admiring the scene before her. The look on her face was full of wonder as her eyes darted left and right, committing the pool area to memory; it reminded Roxy of her first day in Hollywood and all the magic that came with it. 

In her arms, the newcomer held the straps of two bags which were slung over her fashionable green shawl and white dress. By her outward appearance, it seemed as though she was the same age as the songwriter. Which, by extension, made the beautiful girl the band’s age. 

How the boys had manifested this new girl, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t about to challenge their good luck. Besides Camille, she was a little lacking in the girlfriend department. If dating in L.A. was as hard as the guys made it look, she could only imagine the treachery of friendship; she had really lucked out meeting the eccentric actress. But, neither she nor the new girl had been tainted by the town quite yet. Maybe she was a singer or a songwriter too, the possibilities were endless.

All Roxy knew was that she wanted to get to know this North Carolina newcomer as best she could. 

After a few more glances around the area, the blonde turned to follow Bitters, facing the four teens on the lounge chairs with a dazzling smile. James, Kendall, and Logan immediately shot up and lined her path, puffing their chests out and attempting to act nonchalant about her sudden arrival. 

Roxy was the first to speak as she made her way past them, “Hey.”

“Hi,” was all the new girl said with a wave as she continued to walk after the hotel manager. 

Each boy merely followed her with their eyes, not daring to say anything. The only one to make a move was Carlos as he pulled himself out of his staring stupor, and out of the pool. After a few moments, the silence persisted until at once they all at once declared, “She’s mine!” 

Watching on, all the writer could do was laugh as they toppled over each other, trying to pull the boy in front to the back as they trailed after her.

Poor new girl.

***

There was only one topic discussed on the way to Rocque Records: the new girl. Each of the boys had a grand plan to win her heart, but the only one who was bothering Roxy at the moment was James - he released an entire can of his ‘Cuda spray in the backseat. The body spray was the choice for many young men in Hollywood and being surrounded by some of Hollywood’s finest at the Palm Woods school, she was no stranger to the sharp smell as it filled her nose. So, for once, when they reached the recording studio she was terrified to get to work - who knew what that stuff would smell like in the close quarters of their small recording rooms. 

Reaching the studio, she dutifully began to set up the recording equipment without her boss even asking, when she noticed a large man in a black suit in the corner of the room. She waved, and he waved back. Maybe their producer had hired a bodyguard? Regardless, she continued her work as the boys lined up in front of Gustavo and Kelly once they entered the room.

“Today, we are gonna sing a love song.”

Nice, I can’t wait to hear this ‘90s period piece. She thought, truly meaning it. On their first day in Hollywood he had offered the boys a love song they never ended up recording, so maybe he was ready to get that recorded and mixed for the EP. Though the boys didn’t care for that song, much preferring their assistant’s “Big Time Rush”, all boy bands needed a slow love song on their first album.

As he continued, Kelly began to hand out the sheet music to the band.

“It’s a slow song about love.”

When the talent scout fell in line with Gustavo, Roxy fell in line with the boys - wondering why she hadn’t been given any sheets herself. 

Kelly was the next to go. “The record company wants one of your demo songs to be a ballad.”

Of course it was Griffin’s idea. He seems like a ballad kinda guy.

The songwriter’s scoff was drowned out as Kendall pointed out the elephant in the room. “Does anybody else notice the huge guy in the corner?” 

Each teen mumbled in confirmation.

“That is Freight Train,” Gustavo introduced, not even batting an eye. “My new executive in charge of making people do what I say.” 

In accordance with the boss’s words, Freight Train turned to the bright red section of wall beside him and sent a right hook directly through to show he wasn’t messing around. Instinctively, everyone took a step back. 

“Now,” He continued. “This is a song about when you see a girl for the first time and you know she’s the one. Do you guys know what I’m talking about?” 

The band raised their hands to their chins, lost in thought. 

What do they even think about when they do that?

“She’s mine!” James cried suddenly and the fighting that had taken so long to dispel over the new girl began once more.

Band members drove into other band members, unleashing a storm of elbows, fists, and knees upon one another. With each smack, Roxy wished to leave and record her guitar parts - which she’d know she’d have if someone handed her the sheet music - more and more. 

From the corner, Freight Train began to step out of his small space and marched right up to the band. Reaching both hands out, he took James and Carlos by the backs of their shirts and hoisted them clear into the air. Their shocked screams led the man to throw them back down onto the wood flooring of the studio a few feet away from Kendall and Logan. 

“That was kinda fun!” Carlos giggled, unphased by his rough impact. 

Rolling his eyes, Gustavo ignored him and sniffed the air a few times, “What is that smell?”

“It’s Barracuda Man Spray!” James exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of the substance. “We’re in love with a girl at the Palm Woods, and this is my edge.”

Love?

He sprayed the mist directly into his face, the sharp, tropical, smell filling up the room. 

“Any girl who smells too much of that is running in the opposite direction,” Roxy mumbled.

The tall boy turned around, “You didn’t run away earlier.”

“We were in a moving vehicle.”

Kendall placed a hand on her shoulder but ignored her comment, pointing a finger out to James. “You need an edge?”

“You always get the girl!” Agreed Carlos.

Stepping forward, Logan waved his hands in the air, “Yeah! Give us a chance for once!”

Stepping in front of her four friends, the writer crossed her arms, “How about you give her a chance to decide for herself?” 

“She will be mine!” The ‘Cuda wearer shrieked again, his assistant’s words meaning nothing to him, as if he hadn’t said it a million other times that morning.

The frontman gripped his sheet music so hard it audibly crinkled, “No, she’s not.” 

Once more, the four launched themselves at each other. 

“Dawgs! Booth! Now!” Gustavo commanded and when no one moved at his words, Freight Train demonstrated more of his job’s description. 

With much force, each of the boys were shoved into the recording booth by the large man. Though they protested, the band was no match for Freight Train’s natural strength. 

Kelly, Gustavo, and Roxy exited out into the hallway from the studio and into the recording room to get everything set up for the boys to track their vocals. 

“Hey, Kelly,” Roxy called, opening the recording room door. “What song are we recording today?”

The woman shuffled through the papers in her ledger, following after. “I’m not too sure, Gustavo just had me make the copies. Something, something, guy?”

The man brought his fingers to his lips as he tugged on a pair of headphones, signaling the need for silence as he started the recording tape. Following his lead, the two women pulled on a set as well, excited to hear the new BTR ballad.

“Start from the chorus.” Their boss demanded. 

Once a few seconds had gone by, Kendall held up his sheet to sight-read off of and counted the band down. 

“Any kind of guy you want, girl, that’s the guy I’ll be.”

In a flash, Roxy pulled her headphones off - good timing as well, James had let out a large sneeze that ended up startling Gustavo and Kelly due to the sheer volume of it through their headphones. 

The sneeze was the least of her worries, considering that was a song she was familiar with. A song that she had written, not Gustavo, and hadn’t shared with anyone else. 

Where did that sneaky-

On the soundboard in front of her, she spied her black leather songbook, somewhere she definitely hadn’t left it. Trying to retrace her steps from the last time she had written in her book, her blood boiled at the thought of her boss going through her private journal. To her, it was far more than a songbook; it was a diary where she could document things happening day to day in her life, a place to record her personal, private feelings free of judgment. With one stolen song, Gustavo had taken all of that away from her.

Interruption aside, the boys kept on singing. Though there was no sound for her to follow, she didn’t have to read their lips to know exactly what the next words were. 

James sneezed again and the recording stopped. Gustavo took off his headphones. Roxy exploded.

“Wow! What an incredible song you’ve written, Gustavo. It must’ve been hard figuring out all the lyrics and harmonies all by yourself. Not to mention the melody…” Stepping forward she swiped her journal out from in front of him and flipped to the last page covered in writing. Pointing to the guitar chords she had penned, she turned it back around to shove the book in his face. “Were my notes too hard to read? Let me help you out: This. Is. Not. A. Ballad. Oh, and this is my song!” 

The producer didn’t even respond to her before he turned around, pressing the mic button for the booth, “This is a song about love, not sneezing!” 

Roxy turned to Kelly who had heard every word of her declaration, hoping the woman could do something about her current predicament. Taking in the information, she blinked, facing the young girl and her employer. “Um, we have bigger matters to discuss, Gustavo. But…Uh… the pollen count is really high today.” 

“Roxanne!” He called as if she wasn’t sitting right next to him, quietly seething. “Get him to a doctor and fix him. While I fix the song because it’s horrible.”

“It’s not horrible!” The writer gasped, trying her best not to take his words to heart. “And no, I’m not doing anything you say until you give me my song back. I wasn’t even done with it!”

The songwriter was so frustrated she could hardly think straight. First, he went through her private journal, then he ordered her around, and to top it all off he called her song horrible. Why was he being so awful today? 

Once again, her comments fell on deaf ears. 

“Roxanne,” He said again. “Get James to a doctor and Freight Train, take the dawgs home.” 

“My song isn’t horrible!” She said again, voice elevating with every word, watching through the window as Freight Train and Kelly opened the doors. “Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to let me complete it or even played it the way I wrote it-”

“That’s enough! Not another word or you’re fired!” 

All movement ceased. 

The two songwriters stared at each other, Roxy clutching her songbook closer to her chest to find any semblance of comfort as she felt her body shake with anger. His words replayed in her mind a few times and her stomach turned with each one, the nausea overwhelming. Did she deserve it? Sure. Maybe she shouldn’t have spoken to one of the biggest producers in Hollywood like that, but maybe he shouldn’t have stolen her song. There were only so many times Gustavo could threaten to fire his newest employees before he actually did it and as much as she did not want to tolerate this abuse, she didn’t want to board a plane straight back to Minnesota either. 

All of her fellow employees stared down at her as she weighed the choices of defending herself once more. In truth, she didn’t think her boss was actually a monster and she had only gone and made the situation worse for herself. Regardless, as of now, if she fought back she would be out of a job and holding a one-way ticket halfway across the country. Time to suck it up.

Wordlessly, she marched out of the sound room and into the recording booth. As she made a beeline to James, squeezing past the other three boys, he knew that she was going to fulfill their boss' wishes. 

“No, I don’t want to go to the doctor!” 

His cries didn’t change her mind. Reaching up, she pulled the headphones off of his ears and let the object clatter to the ground. Jerking her head towards the door, she gave him the option to walk out himself; when he cowered towards the back of the booth she sighed. Once more, she gave him the option to leave by pointing towards the door and when he stayed in place she reached out and grabbed the chunky necklace dangling around his neck. 

A smile crossed his lips, “Hey, normally I wouldn’t object to this but-” 

Giving it a rough tug, she shut him up and pulled him out of the booth into the hallway. As they stumbled along, there were more cries of protest and a few more sneezes from the boy before she was able to successfully shove him into the elevator. Pushing the button for the lobby caused the doors to shut with a ding and the two began their descent. More than once she had to swat his hands away from the control panel to choose a different floor to stop at. 

“It’s just the doctor, stop being so juvenile!” The girl spat

His brows furrowed. “Gustavo said you aren’t allowed to talk.”

“Ugh!” She groaned. “Don’t even remind me about that… He stole my song! Just… took it. Didn’t even ask. I’m going to wring his neck I swear-”

“Chill, chill!” James raised his hands in a defensive position. “Take a few deep breaths. Achoo!” 

Though she doubted it would work, she did as he suggested. Not at all successful in calming her down, but it was nice to take just a moment and focus on something besides the soul-sucking Hollywood machine attempting to ruin her future career. 

Another sneeze from James erupted as the elevator doors opened and the pair walked out through the pristine lobby of the Rocque Records building.

“Do I have to drag you again?” Roxy questioned, looking over to her friend as they stopped in the plaza outside the building. “Please don’t make this hard day harder.” 

The boy shook his head and gently held out his arm. “I’d prefer not to be dragged as well, but if you’d like something to hold on to…” His other hand swept over his bicep. “This will do nicely.” 

“If it makes the trip faster…”

***

As per the orientation packet given to the group on their first day of employment at Rocque Records, their health insurance was accepted by a man by the name of Doctor Hollywood who had an office within walking distance from the studio. Despite his funny name, the walls of the office waiting room were covered with various medical degrees and signed pictures of famous, satisfied clients so who was she to argue with the benefit?

When the assistant name-dropped Rocque Records at the front desk, the attractive male secretary promised to “clear the doctor’s schedule” and the two were shown into the exam room moments later. Speedy service was much appreciated, especially when she had more important things to do than take James to the doctor - like determining the best way to destroy Gustavo. 

James sat on the examination table while Roxy leaned on the cold, metal chair beside it.

Buzz. 

A text from Logan popped up on her phone’s home screen - a picture of her and Camille out by the pool they had taken a few days ago.

L: Borrowing one of your Seventeens, hope it’s cool.

L: BTW, would you say girls are more into bad boys or British guys? Asking for a friend.

R: I just bought that mag :( Take one of my pop tigers instead

R: If you’re planning on talking to the new girl with a british accent, good luck

R: Don’t scare her off! I need more friends

L: Tell that to Carlos.

After a few more minutes of waiting, a tall, alluring man walked into the room with a name tag presenting ‘Dr. Hollywood’. Despite the fact they were indoors, he wore sunglasses that famed his goateed face and matched his dark hair nicely. Not even introducing himself or taking a look at James, Doc Hollywood made his way over to a cabinet full of liquids on the opposite side of the room from the teens and began to mix a handful together in a small glass. 

“Now, this should make it all better.” He explained, turning to the pair and taking it like a shot before throwing the glass cup behind him. Though the other two flinched when it hit the back wall and completely shattered, the doctor continued as if nothing were the matter. “Okay, what seems to be the problem?”

“The problem is that I’m here when I need to be at the Palm Woods impressing the girl of my dreams!” Rushed James, trying to get his diagnosis and leave as soon as possible. 

Girl of his dreams? Maybe I should tell that to the picture of Aubrey Stewart in his room.

The doctor, not recognizing James’ actual medical issue as the boy sneezed a few times into his arm, dove right into his decision, “It sounds serious. I’m prescribing one dose of black bolero jacket and 100 ccs of tight pants.”

Tearing off the prescription, he handed it to Roxy despite her tightly crossed arms. It was clear the boy was satisfied with this diagnosis when she obviously wasn’t.

“Awesome!” James cheered before sneezing again attempting to hop off the examination table before his assistant reached an arm out to stop him. 

“This isn’t the ‘80s,” The girl scoffed. “Neither of those things will help you win a girl’s heart. Besides, we’re here about James’ allergy. He needs to stop sneezing so he can sing my new song. Any help, Doctor?”

Batting her eyes in the physician's direction a few times to drive in her point, she handed the prescription paper back to the man in front of her before leaning back onto the examination table beside her friend. 

Hollywood stroked his chin, blurting out a new idea without even examining his patient, “It sounds like Rosanne Barr syndrome: The irreversible deterioration of the glands resulting in pain so severe, it can only be relieved by the sweet mercy of death.”

Roxy jumped as James yelped and wrapped his arms around her torso at the man’s words, burying his head into her shoulder. 

“Um. I don’t think that’s a real condition.” It was surprisingly hard for her to articulate her thoughts when James squeezed her a bit tighter. “Are you sure it’s not just some kind of allergen?”

“An allergen!” Doc called back with a snap of his fingers. “Like pollen.”

The boy loosened his hold on her after the more positive prognosis. 

“James?” Doc asked, turning his back to the pair and rifling through the cabinets again. “Are you afraid of receiving giant shots?”

In fairness, the needle wasn’t even that big, but at the prospect of getting a shot the singer shrieked and pushed himself off of the table in an attempt to get away. Gingerly, he grabbed onto his assistant’s hand before dragging her out of the room and into the office lobby with him. Rushing through the massive crowd of people inside the building, James pushed everyone out of his way and Roxy blurted out many hurried ‘Sorry’s to everyone he encountered. 

“Gotta get out, gotta get out,” He kept muttering as he pulled her through the doors of the office and out onto the street. 

If he can’t sing, maybe it isn’t the worst thing in the world.

As he pulled her along the streets of Hollywood, they ran by a street vendor selling some delicious-smelling crepes and into an alleyway that was slightly hidden from the main street view. Only when James was sure they weren’t being followed he slowed down at the end of the alley. While she wasn’t thrilled about the dead-end, it was a big city crawling with all kinds of people; she conceded to the boy’s plan of hiding out so she could postpone the production of her song a bit longer. 

Though he was nearly out of breath, the boy offered a small, “Sorry for dragging you the entire way.”

“It’s fine.” Roxy decided, equally, if not more, out of breath. “But, I’m gonna need you to buy me one of those crepes in exchange for not calling Kelly.” 

Really hoping he wouldn’t call her bluff, it took him a second to process her statement.

James sneezed before scoffing, “Aren’t you the one with the company credit card?” 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything if the purchase isn’t big enough to leave a dent.” She thought for a moment. “Wait, how far away are we from Rodeo Drive?”

“I definitely don’t have enough for Rodeo, Songbird.” 

“No I didn’t mean-” The words James had spoken finally registered. “Wait, what did you just call me?” 

He blinked, “Well you asked me to buy you food and you want to go on a shopping spree… This is a date right?” 

What?

The writer shook her head, thinking she misheard him but his silence proved that he expected an answer. 

“You just dragged me out of the doctor's office after I nearly got fired from my dream job and you think I want to go on a date?”

“I really need you to answer soon because the only thing keeping me from running back to the Palm Woods and taking a shot at the new girl is the chance of going out with you.” 

God! She thought, weighing her options. What is so great about this new girl?

Outlook on this was not great, either she wasted time with James on his proposed date or she wasted time with James chasing him all the way back to the hotel. Either way, Gustavo was going to yell at her - she might as well hit him where it hurts. While she wasn’t sure how much money she would make when the band released one of her songs, right now the plan was to spend enough of Rocque Records’ cash to more than make up for what Gustavo had stolen for her.  

She grabbed his hand and sighed, “Buy me the crepe and let me check if a car service is available to take us shopping.” 

“Yes!” James hissed, not even trying to contain his excitement as he pumped his fist. The sound of his voice echoed in the alley around them. “Come on!” 

The dragging from before was replaced with a good-hearted tug and a sparkling smile as the two set off for the stand they had passed before. But, unlike before the line had grown to be quite a good size, meaning a longer wait for their treat. 

“Okay, looks like they have a traditional crepe base but you get to customize it with different fillings,” James explained, easily peering over the crowd ahead of them. “I didn’t know you liked sweet things, Sweething.”

Buzz. 

The girl ignored her phone chime as she rolled her eyes, “You and the guys have raided my fridge enough times to know that about me.”

What is it with him and nicknames? Does he already have some for the new girl? Blondie? Carolina Cutie? Ugh. 

A group at the front of the line had received their dessert, allowing the rest of the people behind them to walk forward a bit along the busy street. James’ stride was much longer than hers so he was slightly ahead of her, giving her another smooth tug - the only thing that made her realize they were still holding hands. 

For a moment, she worried about the thick calluses covering her hands from her near decade of guitar playing.

Buzz.

Startled by the noise, she slipped her hands out of his with a self-conscious smile. “Sorry, need both hands.” 

Checking her notifications, she noticed that she had received two messages; the first from Logan and the second from Camille. 

L: Hey, weird question, do you think Camille might have a thing for me?

-

C: HELP I JUST MADE OUT WITH LOGAN IN THE LOBBY!!!!!

The combination of those two messages made her burst out laughing, nearly dropping her phone on the concrete below her feet as she doubled over. As she held her phone up to show James, her sides felt like they were about to split completely in half. 

“These two…!” A few more seconds of laughter let her realize her actions - eyes widening - as a few light chuckles escaped his lips. “Wait, crap, don’t tell Logan that Camille likes him. She’ll kill me!” 

Using his pointer finger, he crossed his heart and took a few more steps forward in line. “It’s not like it isn’t totally obvious. Achoo!... I’m pretty sure he’s the only one who doesn’t know.”

After some more giggles, she shot a few texts back. 

R: Logan, what makes you think that?

L: She just kissed me approximately 12 times in the lobby.

R: Nice! Some role she must be up for

L: Yeah. One Tree Hill.

R: Oh I LOVE one tree hill

R: Check what my new seventeen has to say about girls kissing you 12 times in the lobby of the hotel you both live ;p 

Looking up, she noticed James attempting to read the menu once more. His right hand covered the sun from falling onto his face, shading his hazel eyes. If she could look into his mind and find out what toppings he was debating between, she probably would’ve if she wasn’t so caught up with Logan and Camille’s love life. When he turned back to her, she was too late to realize and react - he had caught her staring. 

James waggled his eyebrows, “Like what you see?” 

She drove a hand into his side, taking his attention off of her reddening cheeks. “Keep picking your fillings, idiot.” 

Once more, she buried herself in her phone to answer Camille. 

R: That’s crazy! 

R: Is it weird to ask if he's a good kisser?

R: Also, I’m on a date with James, is that weird too?

C: i saw him flirting with jo and then i blacked out

C: and i was pleasantly surprised

C: get off your phone and tell me all about it when i see you later!

R: Jo?

C: new girl! moved in from north carolina today

C: your band is torturing her with awful pick up methods

R: Isn’t that all they’re good at?

C: get off your phone! 

“Next!” The vendor called, catching her attention. “What can I get for you two?”

James slipped his hand into hers once more, motioning them forward. “Two crepes please, one filled with chocolate sauce and lots of whipped cream and one filled with…” 

“Strawberries and cream, please,” Roxanne answered, a smile creeping up her face at the prospect of the delicious combination… and maybe a bit from the fact James wanted to hold hands with her again. 

Just as her date pulled out his wallet to pay, a shout from behind interrupted him. 

“There he is! Grab him and strap him down!”

Four sets of hands wrapped themselves around James and shoved him backward onto a padded gurney, detaching him from his date completely. Doctor Hollywood and three of his nurses had tracked the pair through the winding streets and were determined to bring James back for his shots. 

The boy was nearly too stunned to speak and started struggling as he was wheeled away, leaving Roxy standing alone at the front of their stand. Once James was out of sight, turned back to the crepe vendor with a sheepish smile, “Sorry about that. Uh, how much will it be?”

***

“Look, I’m not sneezing anymore, so I- I guess I can go back on our date now, and I definitely need that shot! Achoo!” James yelled as Doctor Hollywood, with the help of his nurses, wheeled him through the swinging doors into the examination room the teens had been in before. After paying for their crepes, Roxy had walked after the gurney and had surprisingly caught up with it about halfway to the facility, making sure to take a picture of her date strapped down to give Camille the progress report she had requested. It appeared that James was still putting up very much of a struggle in order to not get the shot despite his position of extreme powerlessness.

“I think our date ended after you got strapped down into a gurney and left me alone at the crepe vendor’s cart.” Roxy pointed out, licking some stray cream off the side of her nearly-gone cone-shaped treat. “But I grabbed yours too, so get the shot and you’re more than welcome to have it.” 

Doc Hollywood rolled the gurney to the middle of the room, looming over James as the nurses exited. 

“James, it’s not gonna hurt a bit.” A syringe even larger than the one shown earlier was pulled from the man’s lab coat. “It’s gonna hurt a lot.”

General Hospital would be lucky to have him… Roxy thought, but another shriek from the strapped-down boy pulled her back to the present. 

James struggled against the leather straps pinning him down at his chest and feet, reaching his hand down into his back pocket even with his limited range of motion. When his fingers grabbed what he was looking for, he gave a little victory yelp and pulled out the can of ‘Cuda man spray he had been using at Rocque Records earlier. Even in his compromised position, he still managed to point it at both the assistant and the doctor, threatening, “Stay back! I’m not afraid to use this.”

Doc Hollywood’s face lit up when his eyes landed on the bizarre product before answering, “Barracuda man spray!” On the counter behind him, he picked up a can of his own ‘Cuda, holding it up like he was facing a nonexistent camera. “Now in new Spice Lime.” 

“Stop it! James needs actual medical attention, not a modeling contract. Is there anything besides a shot that can get him to stop sneezing for the time being?” 

Stroking his chin and looking up towards the ceiling, the doctor looked like he was lost in thought. “There is one thing that might work…” 

Both she and James waited expectedly for the doctor to share his solution. 

“Do you think I need a chin implant?”

“Doc, stay focused please,” The assistant begged. 

The man stroked his chin a few more times, poking and prodding at different places that could potentially be enhanced by surgery. When he finally turned his attention to the teens in front of him, he seemed to be reminded of his purpose at the office and rummaged through the cabinets once more, pulling out a very large and tacky face mask. The two white ventilators on the side would help filter the air and ensure that no allergens slipped under, allowing James to stop sneezing for the time being. Whether he would be able to sing was an entirely different question, not that the assistant cared anyway.

Taking one final bite of her crepe before pitching the other she was holding, Roxy snatched it out of his hands. Since this was the solution to their problem for the time being, James was eventually released from the gurney and did not make any attempt to run now that there was no threat of a shot to treat his issue. Once the two teens made their way into the lobby, Freight Train was standing near the entrance.

“Put this on, James,” Roxy said, holding the mask out to the boy as they walked. 

Slowly, he pushed the object back into her chest, “Nuh, uh. No way am I wearing that, it takes away from all this-”

He placed his hands to the sides of his face and pulled them down, wiggling his fingers. Somehow, James was oblivious to the large man who had come to pick them up.

Once they made their way to the sliding doors to the street, Roxy greeted Gustavo’s new enforcer. “Hi, Mr. Train! Could you please help me get this on our friend over here?” 

The next few seconds went by in a blur as James tried to escape the man’s grasp. The two flitted around the lobby, fighting and struggling over the mask. When Freight Train was finally able to pull it over the boy’s head, James decided to give up and the man hauled him over his shoulders. Walking over to Roxy, he gently pulled her up into his arms as well and began to carry the two on the trek back to Rocque Records. 

Buzz

K: Hey, are we still cool to sing this song?

K: You seemed freaked earlier so I wanted to check in

R: Do whatever Gustavo tells you

R: No need to get in trouble for my sake

K: You’re a part of this team too!

R: It's not up to you or me :(

R: Tell him it’s not supposed to be a ballad tho, I've got the chords in my book

R: Which he stole

R: I refuse to track them though! 

She sent a few more angry messages, filled with profane statements detailing to Kendall her anger at their boss. While trying to explain her grand vision for the song the producer had stolen from her, Freight Train was placing her down in Studio A in front of her band. Almost immediately, Gustavo shoved James back into the recording booth to try and make up for lost time. 

As they started the song from the chorus once more, each boy took a different line and showed off their impressive vocal range. Even without the band in mind when she wrote the song, Roxy felt it to be a perfect fit for their unique voices. In addition to Kelly and Gustavo in the recording room with her, the assistant had also noticed Katie sitting in the small circle swing in the room and took a place next to her.

While the band continued their recording, Katie tapped Roxy on the shoulder to show her the reason for her arrival in the office. The young girl had a report due at school on a person that she admires, and for some unfathomable reason, she had chosen Gustavo. Of course, Roxy had a few choice words about the man she had selected to write about but bit her tongue as she turned back to the recording booth to watch the band continue to sing her stolen song. 

Kendall, Carlos, and Logan had done very well in singing along to the melody Gustavo was playing, even if the song had a different, slower tempo than she had originally intended. If they kept singing like that, maybe the song Gustavo ripped from her wouldn’t be as terrible as he had claimed. However, once they got to James’ lines, there was an issue, of course. The nature of the mask garbled his voice, not allowing the microphones to pick up any noise he made. But, he still gave it his all.

“What was that?” Gustavo yelled, striking some sour notes on the piano keys once the jumbled mumbling filled his ears.

Roxy turned to him from beside the young girl, “You told me to fix him, so I did.”

“But he can’t sing!”

“I fail to see how that’s my problem.” 

The man waved his hands in the air, exasperated. “We have to sing this love song, because the record company wants a love song, and I still hate this song!” 

She stood her ground, “Still, not my problem. Besides, James refuses to take an allergy shot, and I refuse to do anything else until I get my song back!” 

Gustavo’s voice boomed, “Get him an allergy shot!” 

Stepping out from the line of his friends, James took off his mask and sneezed a few times before addressing his boss. “It’s my fault, Gustavo, stop yelling at Roxy. Achoo! I need to do this. I’ll go get the shot.” 

Sure, sure.

Pointing at James and then towards the door, the assistant walked out before she even checked to make sure he was coming with her. Marching on, she walked towards the elevator and kept the doors open, which he soon ran into after smelling suspiciously more like ‘Cuda than before. Though the tropical scent filled up the elevator, she found it didn’t bother her as much as it had earlier.

“Did he really take your song?” 

There was a long silence and a sneeze before she answered him.

“Yup.”

He shuffled his feet.

“That sucks.”

“Yup.”

What a way with words.

“It happened to me before, back in Minnesota, too,” She offered, trying to play it off as more cool about the situation than she actually was. “I’ve got experience with it. So, I guess I’ll live.”

Some more silence shrouded the two, then the ding of the elevator to let them know they reached the lobby. 

James turned to look at her, placing a light hand on her arm. “Sorry about this in advance.” 

The doors opened and he took off, racing through the lobby while dousing his entire body with his man spray. It took all Roxy had left in her to try and race after him and his long, long legs. 

When they reached the street, he flagged down a cab and yelled, “She will be mine!” before it sped off, presumably towards the Palm Woods to speak with the new girl before any of his friends. 

Oh, whatever, it's not like we were just on a date or anything… Could it hurt to go home and recharge for a while?

To her credit, it had been a tough day with stolen songs and uncooperative co-workers and all. So, when another cab passed by she held her hand out. Once it stopped and she hopped in, telling the driver her destination, and soon enough they were there.

Making it through the lobby of the Palm Woods and up to her apartment, there was no sign of James, something she was very thankful for. She really wasn’t interested in watching him try and pick up Jo.   

Buzz

C: did i just see you in the lobby?

C: come meet jo, i’ll grab a smoothie for you!

R: Sounds like a plan

R: I’ve had the weirdest day today, can’t wait to tell you

C: <3333

C: we’re going to be by the pool cabanas

R: See you soon

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses, she headed down to meet Camille and Jo. 

The weather outside was surprisingly pleasant; there were many people hanging out in the pool or on the lounge chairs suntanning. It was easy to spot Camille, who had traded her cheerleaders uniform for a bright pink tracksuit that looked incredible against her dark hair. Sitting across from her under the bright orange umbrella was the new girl, sipping some juice from the café and listening to her new friend tell one of her countless stories. 

Meeting new people was hard for anyone, especially teenagers, so as Roxy approached there was a small bit of dread in her chest. But, as she saw Jo laugh out loud at one of Camille’s jokes the feeling started to dissipate, hopefully to be gone for good. 

She just looked so effortlessly pretty when she laughed.

Camille spotted her coming and waved her over, crushing her in a hug when they finally met. Taking the other chair at the table, Roxy sat down and introduced herself to the newcomer.

“Hey,” She said, offering her hand to the blonde. “I’m Roxanne Somerset, but please, call me Roxy. Welcome to the Palm Woods!” 

Her hand was shaken, and the new girl passed her a pink smoothie. “Jo Taylor! It’s great to finally meet another girl around here. Camille was just telling me about this new role she’s up for in Degrassi… I moved out here to be an actress too, so her tips are really helpful!”

Next to her, Camille waved her off, “It’s no big deal! Besides, I think you should tell her about all the colorful characters you’ve met today.” 

“Oh?” Roxy questioned. “I just moved out here from Minnesota a week and a half ago, so I’m still trying to meet everyone for myself.” 

Taking a few sips of her juice, Jo began to detail who she had come across. 

“Well, after I had moved in, I was just sitting in the lobby reading lines for the Magic Middle School and this guy dressed in all black and leather and chains came up and introduced himself, right?

Roxy nodded her head taking a few sips of her delicious smoothie as well.

“So, I introduce myself and I ask him his name and he pulls out the worst British accent I’ve ever heard before he ran off! Super weird. Then, this other nerdy-looking guy tries to introduce himself before Camille over here, full-on makes out with him in the lobby!”

“We barely made out!” Camille interrupts, chuckling to herself before looking over to Roxy. 

Hmm, I doubt she made out with two guys in the lobby today. So that was Logan.

Jo continued her story, “Then, a while later I was sitting out by the pool and this cute, blond guy came over to say hi and a huge bodyguard type came and threw him over his shoulder and just carried him away.” 

The assistant shook her head, knowing full well who that was as well. Since she and James were cooped up in the doctor's office all day, she used her limited knowledge to assume that the first guy was Carlos trying out one of the dating gimmicks Logan had texted her about. This meant the mysterious blond had to be Kendall.

“While I don’t control them, I do feel the need to apologize for their behavior as their songwriter-assistant.” Roxy laughed, imagining what fools the boys had made of themselves. “It sounds like you met Carlos, Logan, and Kendall, three out of four members of the new band Big Time Rush. They are so girl-crazy, it’s insane. In fact, today I even had to-” 

Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as she noticed a figure walking his way down the expanse of the pool clad in a black bolero jacket, red snakeskin pants, and white leather shoes. The outfit wasn’t as concerning as the other thing she noticed about him though. The person, who looked suspiciously like James Diamond, came strutting up to them. 

As he called out a “hello”, Jo and Camille turned around, letting out twin shrieks as they took in the boy. 

“Not the reaction I usually get.” James mused, totally unaware of the red, swelling skin and massive boils that covered his entire body. “But, I’m James. I’m in a band.”

Camille and Roxy looked at each other, hardly able to contain the fits of giggles that threatened to spill out of them as Jo did her best to politely introduce herself.

“Hi… I’m Jo. It’s so nice to meet you.” 

James, still unaware, pressed on. “I was thinking maybe we could see a movie later on. Achoo!”

His hands flew up to cover his mouth and nose, showing off more of his inflamed skin. 

Too busy to care about his statement to Jo, Roxy took a few more sips of her smoothie to keep anything unsavory from coming out of her mouth.

“Uh,” Jo said. “Don’t you think you should see a doctor first?”

Another hand wiped at his nose, “Oh, because of my sneezing, right?” 

Then, he noticed the size of his palm. His giant palm. “Aah! What happened to my hands?”

Noticing a familiar scent, Jo bravely took a deep sigh. “Are you wearing Barracuda man spray?”

Kind enough to give James a moment to freak out, Camille grabbed a compact mirror from her purse and held it out to him. “You do know that stuff was recalled for causing severe allergic reactions, right?”

When the rashed boy took the mirror and held it up to his face, he screamed once more and turned around, quickly strutting back out of the pool area and into the lobby. Wherever he went next was of no concern to the assistant who was self-inflicting her own stomach ache, now laughing openly, at how terrible he looked. 

“And that, ahah!” She pushed out through giggles. “Is James, the fourth member of my band.” 

The three exchanged smiles before Jo picked up her scripts and drink, looking a bit uncomfortable as she stood up. “How about a change of scenery? I still need some help decorating my room if you two are available!” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Camille confirmed, grabbing Roxy’s wrist and pulling her out of her giggling fit.  

Heading through the lobby and up the stairs, Jo explained that her apartment was on the second floor, overlooking the pool.

“Oh, mine too! I’m in the north wing next to the guys,” Roxy beamed. “Good to know you won’t be far.” 

“I’m on the fourth floor, east wing!” Camille added, ”Just a few floors up.”

Jo opened the door to her apartment, chock full of moving boxes, and waved to her father in the kitchen. She explained that Roxy and Camille were new friends, offering to help her unpack and the two exchanged polite waves with Mr. Taylor before Jo dragged them down the hallway. 

Unlike Roxy’s studio or the band’s 3 bedroom, Jo and her father shared a modest 2 bedroom with a straightforward layout. Once they landed in Jo’s room, however, it was clear why she had chosen it. At the back, behind the bed, there were two white French doors to a balcony overlooking the pool area below. 

“Oh sweet!” Roxy exclaimed, opening the door and pointing over to the right, “You can see my room from here!”

Jo giggled, “I’ll be sure to keep a big notepad on me so we can write little messages back and forth. Also, could you leave the door open? It’s a little hot in here”

“Sure thing!” The girl called as she walked back over to the little circle the other girls had made on the floor. “And, wouldn’t my phone number work much better than a notepad?” 

Roxy dug, pulling her phone out of her small backpack and pressing new contact. Numbers were quickly exchanged before the girls pulled down a few boxes and began to unload them. 

As Roxy examined the contents of her box, she was fortunate enough to find Jo’s books, DVDs, and CDs all wrapped up and was more than happy to help her shelf them. Like her, it appeared that Jo was into sappy, supernatural romances and had a giant pile of both their book and film adaptations. The rom-com and drama piles were big as well, with Roxy spying many of her favorites. One of her favorite finds was Jo’s collection of boyband CDs, everything from the Beach Boys to the Jonas Brothers - she knew that they would get along nicely and that she just might enjoy the music she wrote.

“Hey, Jo, I think you’d love the boy band I work for,” Roxy started, holding up some of the CDs and placing them on the shelf in alphabetical order. “They made asses of themselves today for sure, but I’m the one writing their songs so you can just focus on that aspect.”

“No way!” Jo called, wide-eyed. “You didn’t mention they were a boy band; They are so my weakness!”

Camille passed her a few more CDs from the box of mostly knick-knacks she had been unpacking. “The four in BTR have caused quite the stir around here.”

“How about I play you one of the songs I wrote for them? I can even show you the one I’m working on right now!” Roxy pulled out her phone and began to scroll through her endless music library, looking for the song she had written about their first few days in Los Angeles. 

The other two girls continued to unpack more from their boxes.

“Here I am, there you are, why does it seem so far?” 

The music she had expected to play through her phone ended up coming from the open window instead. Meaning, once again, the boys were taking her song and running with it - doing whatever they pleased with her own creation. The writer pointed towards the window, catching Jo and Camille’s attention and the three ran to the balcony to see Logan and Guitar Dude on the pool deck below.

“Next to you is where I should be.” Continued Logan, showing off a sweet smile. But, he was quickly cut off when Carlos came running in from the left, tackling him into one of the shaded areas of the pool.

“Something I want so bad, know what’s inside your head, maybe I can see what you see.” Carlos began, popping up from above Logan, but not for much longer. Like he had tackled his friend, Kendall was now making his way over to push him to the side. 

“I got to keep on believing, everything takes time, I’ll make up any reason to make you mine.” 

The girls winced as each one of the boys continued to knock the others out of their way while trying to finish the song she had written. By the time they had reached the chorus, now sped up as each of the boys tried to rush through the song, Roxy could hardly take it. She tapped Jo on the shoulder and motioned towards her bedroom hoping that everyone would follow but the other girls stayed to watch the scene unfold.

Making her way back inside, the assistant plopped down on the floor and placed her head in her hands. 

Gustavo I get, but now the guys? Why is everyone taking my song? 

It was an extremely frustrating situation and it was one where she was being given no support from her boss or her friends leaving her feeling completely isolated - at least James had silently listened to her complain in the elevator. This line of work was new for all of them, but by how particular she was when she wrote she had hoped the band would understand her connection to her music and how important it was to her. Instead, they were ripping it away from her, using it to one-up each other and to try and get the new girl. 

“Guys!” She heard Jo call, “Great song. But you should probably know that I have a boyfriend back home.” 

Hearing the words her friend said made the writer perk up a bit.

“What?” The boys called from below.

“But we can still be friends, right?” Jo offered.

“Yeah…” The band chorused, very obvious in their disappointment at her statement. 

Camille and Jo considered the matter settled and headed back inside. Though Roxy had tried to put on a brave face, the ravenette immediately noticed something was wrong. 

“Roxy…” Camille said, sweeping the girl into another hug. “Am I correct in assuming the awful date isn’t the only reason for your gloomy mood?” 

“Bad date?” Jo questioned, looking over.

“Yeah!” Camille affirmed, “She texted me earlier that she was on a date with James!” 

“He looks much better without hives and rashes covering his entire body,” The assistant sighed, unsure of why she felt the need to defend her decision.

“And speaking of dates, you told me you didn’t have a boyfriend.” Camille continued, quirking her brow at the newcomer’s declaration.

Great.

Jo looked towards the floor, seeming a little guilty as she shuffled her feet, “Uh, I don’t, but I can’t deal with that every day.” 

“Oh,” Sighed Camille, “Boys are stupid! But remember, Logan’s mine.”

As hard as the songwriter tried to focus on the warmth her friends provided her, the hair on the back of her neck rose as she heard Gustavo’s voice float through the window.

“The song is still terrible! Ugh!” 

“Give me a second,” Roxy whispered, heading out to the balcony again. 

When she noticed the guys talking to Gustavo, surrounded by Kelly, Freight Train, and Katie, she called out his name.

“The song isn’t terrible! Maybe if you just listened to me instead of taking it for yourself you wouldn’t be having this problem!” She was shaking, much like when they had first met, but right now she needed to stand up for herself more than ever. She wouldn’t let the producer push her around any longer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Gustavo called back.

Roxy pointed to the band below her, “You just heard them sing it at a faster pace like the song was intended to be!”

“We need a ballad, not another pop-love song!”

“That’s enough, Gustavo! If you want a ballad, write it yourself. I’m never leaving my book out of my sight ever again!” 

She peered down at him, satisfied that her comment had shut him up at least for a few seconds.

“Very well then. Good job, you learned your lesson. Now, come down here and finish it with me.”

Heads turned, from her friends, from Freight Train and Kelly, and even from the pool patrons.

“Lesson?” Repeated the assistant. “What lesson?”

***

After a few more hours and a terrible explanation from Gustavo about his “lesson” the two had finally come to a peace agreement. The producer had wanted to teach the girl about the dangers of leaving unfinished and uncopyrighted music lying about, showing that anyone could take it and pass it off as their own. Apparently, she had left her journal in the studio after cleaning up the bad boy fiasco last night. Roxy wanted to wring his neck and tell him that was the stupidest way he could possibly teach that to her, but refrained and thanked him for his “generosity” through gritted teeth.

Anything to get my song published she reminded herself. Gustavo can’t produce if he’s dead.

The two had finally completed the remaining lyrics and melody, handing it off to the guys to sight read and share for Griffin, who was sitting in the chairs of the recording room in front of her. The band had finally agreed to stop fighting about Jo after learning about her fake boyfriend and it appeared as though James had rushed off to see Doc Hollywood after his embarrassing stunt at the pool and was finally back to his normal self. 

As the song played, she reflected on the lyrics a bit, imagining the band in a music video where they dressed up as different characters that included all of their friends from the Palm Woods. Quietly, she wrote the idea down in her journal to save for later. 

When the track slowly came to an end, a silence washed over the room as Gustavo, Kelly, and Roxy waited for the CEO's final verdict.

Standing up, Griffin buttoned his suit jacket and turned towards Gustavo. “I tell you I want a slow love song, and instead, you ignore me and give me… a hit. Great job, Gustavo, Miss Somerset.”

Roxy was finally able to breathe again, as the CEO leaned in to give her boss a hug. 

“But I still want a slow love song!” Griffin cautioned. “And put the word ‘baby’ in it… Yeah, that’s good.”

One more thing on Gustavo’s plate. Poor old fool.

Before any more conversations about the song Griffin wanted continued, Roxy snuck out of the recording room and through the booth, giving the guys a thumbs up as they met. 

“Great performance, guys.” She congratulated the four. “It seems like we have yet another hit on our hands!”

Cheers erupted from her friends, who came over to crush her in a massive hug.

“Thanks in no small part to you!” Carlos told her, squeezing her a bit tighter. “After what Gustavo told you earlier, I for sure thought you were going to take your song back!”

“I had the option to do that?” She questioned, cracking a smile. “Maybe I should…”

“No!” They all began to beg, worried looks crossing their faces. 

From beside her, Kendall placed a hand on her head, “If not for you, we’d probably be singing some stupid, slow song with the word ‘baby’ in it right now.”  

“About that…”

[unseelie-grimalkin]

“you’re not okay, you’re shaking.”

*cracks knuckles* I was hoping for this one (hug prompts here: x)

(I am completely down if people want to send me in the same prompt but again, because all of these are open-ended enough that I can take them on walkies in EVERY direction)

Ronit stretched her neck, rolling her shoulders back as she put a foot on the chest piece of the guard. "A smart lad would stay still and down, aye?" she muttered quietly as she flipped her blackjack in her hand, iron eyes looking down at posh gold ones. She smirked as the young guard quickly nodded, walking slowly away from him with measured steps on the balls of her feet.

"I swear," she muttered to herself as she looked over the prison roster, "the posh ones always seem to think bein' a guard is a easy job. Coast off of bein' soldier-adjacent." She found the name she was looking for and looked over at the guard. "One quick favor, love."

He looked up at her, eyes still wide. "Ah um- yes?"

Ronit held an open hand, his eyes flicking to it. "Keys, please. Don't make me ask twice; I'm angry enough as it is."

The guard quickly threw her his ring of keys, and she smiled wide, with teeth on display. "That's a good lad. Smart enough that you don't want to end up like the others." Ronit walked to him slowly, tapping her blackjack in her hand. "Remember: you were the only one who could put up a fight against the trespasser. You were narrowly beaten by a man twice your size, with black hair and golden eyes, and a little smug, self-satisfied grin. That's the only story that'll get you out of this mess. And if that man appears before you?" Ronit leaned down and whispered, "You tell him that I can do so much worse than this, if he blocks my sunflower's sun ever again. Do you understand me?"

The guard nodded, and she popped back to a rigid, friendly posture with a grin. "Good! I'm glad we can mutually benefit from this arrangement," she replied, walking away from the guard for the last time.

She hummed a cheerful little tune, looking from empty cell to "empty" cell, until she finally spotted a bit of green. She clicked the gate unlocked, watching her love's eyes widen at the sight of her.

"Ronit?"

"Me!" she chirped, tossing her blackjack to her other hand, gently ruffling Shae's messy hair. "We need to-" Iron softened as two strong arms wrapped around her.

"I'm sorry," Shae whispered, "I'm sorry I didn't listen. I was bullheaded and just-"

"You've nothing to apologize for, Sunflower," she muttered, wrapping her arms around them. "I'm okay, you're gonna be okay, we'll get back on track to finding your princess, alright?"

Shae was silent a long moment, and that silence rung throughout the prison. They finally answered, "But...you're not okay. You're shakin' something fierce."

Ronit laughed under her breath. "S'fine, everything's fine." She pulled back. "Let's make like some posh idiots and split from this dance floor, shall we?" She paused a moment, biting her lip. "We ah...might not be able to go back to the outpost for a while. S'fine! S'fine. We'll manage. I've got you again." Ronit pressed her forehead against theirs, trying to chase the helpless look from their eyes. "We'll manage, Shae."

[zersium]

Cloak & Dagger Update — Status and Future Plans

So, it’s been a while, huh? Read below regarding Cloak & Dagger’s current status, plus a more detailed breakdown of changes made to the first instalment, from a certain point of view!

Hello and welcome! Today marks Cloak & Dagger’s fourth anniversary (isn’t that just nuts?) so today I’d like to talk a bit more about my plans for the series, and to expand upon my answers to recent asks on the subject.

from a certain point of view, 2.0

Before you read any further, you can find the updated from a certain point of view here on AO3. The rest of this post contains spoilers, so if you haven’t read it be sure to do so! 

Below are my comments on a few of the changes I’ve made (which might clue you in on possible future events):

Conclusion of Anakin vs Obi-Wan ➤ Obi-Wan leaving Anakin whole was always something that I’ve stayed true to—suitless Vader is simply too good to resist—but this ambiguous approach to the conclusion of their fight is unique to the revision of the fic. At the culminating moment of their fight, Obi-Wan doesn’t reach far enough to maim Anakin, and thus Anakin doesn’t fall by the bank. This is something I believe could have happened in canon had Anakin been more in control of himself, as his fate here hangs on his ability to make the right call of judgement. In canon, he is unable to do so when consumed by the Dark, but C&D Anakin can sense the danger of his darker emotions, to a point where he knows to twist out of the way when he leaps. 

Obi-Wan’s Dark Side ➤ The ambiguity of my previous point lies with the hint of Obi-Wan’s own weakness, and the recollection of TPM. This aspect of his character is not something I initially thought to explore, but seeds of the Dark appearing in Obi-Wan’s most desperate moment is definitely plausible. Here is a man who has lost everything, who has been given an impossible task—and though he is a perfect Jedi, what is a perfect Jedi when there are close to no Jedi left? This is a recurring theme post Order 66—a Jedi’s place in the world without the Order—and that all begins here, in Obi-Wan’s darkest hour.

Caleb and Grogu ➤ Four years ago, Mandalorian did not exist. Yet, with the ever-evolving SW canon, and with my own returning interest linked in part to the show, Grogu’s existence was a point of particular interest in the context of the alternate Temple attack. Plus, I think Kanan is rad, and since the Ghost crew appears later on in “revelation”, well. (Another surprise sometime down the line? Perhaps!)

Padmé’s Funeral ➤ Anakin feels?? Hello??? In all seriousness, this scene is something I wanted to include as a way to expand upon Anakin’s emotional state, and the effects that the duress of the mission have had on him so far. C&D Anakin is a lot more in control of his feelings than in canon (and for this there’s a reason!), so he doesn’t succumb to acting on anger as a first resort. BUT, this transition to a hollow state is a lot scarier for him, as it forces him to further come to terms with the weight of his responsibilities in this assignment. Sorry, not sorry. Anakin suffering is in and of itself a recurring theme ;)

Closing Scene ➤ For readers familiar with the original conclusion to this fic, the ending on Anakin finding Ahsoka’s shouta is new! As you can probably gather, it’s for the same reason as above—TCW season 7 was simply not a thing in 2017, and since its release I could not stop thinking about the absolute desolation this scene portrayed. It’s a perfect cinematic conclusion to the era, and a perfect transition for this verse’s Anakin.

These are all the major changes I made that I’d like to touch upon! There’s a few more tweaks here and there, of course, but these 5 in particular I feel warrant a full explanation for those that would like to read it. 

The Future of Cloak & Dagger

Regarding the future of this series, for the moment I’m working on a revamp of the other published works ahead of starting any new ones. The truth of the matter is that most of these fics are pretty dated, and my writing has changed a lot over time. As such, there’s areas of the series that I’d like to restructure and new details I’d like to add for the sake of cohesion and an improved narrative. Evidently, this’ll take time, but I’d like to extend a shoutout to those who’ve stuck by me throughout and continue to do so—your support over the years means more to me than I can adequately express. 

If you’ve made it to the bottom of this post, thank you so much for reading through my ramblings! I have a lot of thoughts about these changes, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed the updated from a certain point of view. If you’ve got any more questions, or would like to share your thoughts, feel free to shoot me an ask!

[bestiesenpai]

Neophyte - Gojo Satoru

I shall feed you lol and here is the post they’re talking about, in case anyone would like context

Content warning: dumb inexperienced reader, age gap, almost exclusive usage of ‘little girl’ (reader still 18+ of course lads), uh losing virginity, spitting as well...oh and squirting too

Two weeks. That’s how long they said they’d be gone for, and although you were old enough to be on your own, your parents insisted on getting you a babysitter.

“Bye you two! We’ll call when we make it to the hotel!” Your mother shouted from the backseat of the car.

“Make sure (Y/N) doesn’t stay up too late, her sleep schedule is already bad as it is!” Your father added, loading up the bags in the back of the taxi. He chuckled when you groaned, and he sat in the car.

“Bye!” Waving goodbye, you watched them speed off into the evening sky, the sunset painting a pretty picture for their departure.

“Alright, first order of business: ordering some food!” Gojo announced, pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking to the front door. “What do you want, (Y/N)? I’m feeling like having pizza.”

“Pizza is fine.” Trailing after him, you tried not to let your gaze settle on him for too long. You didn’t hate having Gojo staying over, it was quite the opposite. You wanted nothing more than to run your hands through his crazy hair and have him kiss you senseless and there were plenty of nights you lied awake thinking about him with an ache between your legs, and it would only get worse as the days went by.

“Here’s to our first night together!” Gojo cheered, clinking his beer can against your soda. Leaning back in his chair, he took a massive bite of his pizza, making you laugh at how his cheeks puffed out. Your eyes wandered down to his beer, and you suddenly had a question.

“Gojo, can I try your beer?”

“Hm? You sure?” Lifting up the can with the edges of his fingers, he turned it over in his hand. “Why would a little girl want to try something like this?” A subtle heat rose to your cheeks, getting warmer when his eyes looked at yours.

“I’m just curious. Please?” Stretching your hand out, Gojo lets you take the can from him.

“Alright, but not too much.” He warned. Leaning back in his chair, a smirk spread across his face. The smell wafting up from the can was enough to give you pause, but you tipped your head back and drank anyway.

“Ew!” Curling your lip away as soon as the taste coated your tongue, you held it out for Gojo to take back. His laughter filled the air, getting even louder watching you chug your soda to rid yourself of the taste.

“Not your favorite?” He chuckles, taking a sip.

“No.” Shaking your head, a shiver rips through you. “How can you like that stuff?”

“When you’re a grown up, you’ll understand.”

“But I am grown up.” Gojo ignores your statement with another chuckle and a bite of his food.

Once dinner is over, it’s time for a movie. It’s Gojos idea, he wants you two to get comfortable with each other, after all he will be staying in your guest bedroom. He even went out for a quick run to the convenience store to grab you ice cream and a few treats to eat. Letting you pick the movie, he lounges on the end of the couch in a pair of breezy shorts, legs stretched out far and another beer in his hand.

Quietly eating the snacks he gave you, you keep your body curled up on the other end of the couch. You’d both changed into more comfortable clothing, and while you were fully clothed, it made a strange feeling bubble inside you to wear such short shorts near him. You had no problem wearing these shorts around friends, but with Gojo it felt different.

“I’ve never seen this before.” He comments offhandedly, swaying his leg side to side as the opening credits roll. “What’s it about?” He glances over at you and for a moment you think he’s staring at your bare legs, but then he’s making eye contact with you.

“Uhm…” Biting your lip, a wave of bashfulness goes over you. “It’s a romantic comedy.”

“Ah.” Nodding like he understands, he returns his attention to the screen. Your fingers twitch, wanting to grab the remote and change it to something more highbrow. Something that a grown up like Gojo would enjoy.

As the movie goes on, you’re painfully aware of every line that’s said. Usually, this film can make your heart race with how romantic it usually is, but now it’s just making you cringe. Taking a look at Gojo, he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Woah, pretty steamy.” He chuckles at a scene, and you rip your eyes away to see what he means. Two characters are passionately kissing on screen, their hands gripping each other's clothing so roughly it looks like they might tear.

“We can fast forward.” As heat rises to your cheeks, you reach for the remote.

“No, it’s okay.” Grabbing your wrist to stop you, Gojo shrugs. “I don’t mind.” The feeling of his fingers wrapped around you lingers long after he’s let go. Watching the same hand go back to resting on his lap, the tips of his fingers just barely touching his thighs, makes more heat come to your face.

As the story progresses, you try to forget about the scene entirely. You’re able to let your body relax, even stretch out your legs onto the portion of the couch that’s been left unoccupied. There are a few more kissing scenes and they all make you nervous and bring your eyes to Gojos face to watch his reaction.

“I can feel you staring.” Gojo grins like a fool and turns to you, catching you right in the act.

“S-sorry.” Hiding him from view with your hand, you stare at the floor and try to push down the shame at being caught. Gojo laughs, an easy sound aided by the alcohol in his system, and his hand comes down to graze the top of your foot.

“What’s in that head of yours, little girl?” His hand firmly grabs your ankle, playfully pushing your leg side to side as he waits for an answer.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.” He immediately counters, and the hand on your ankle tugs at you. “Let’s see, you only look at me when there’s kissing…” Putting more weight into his grip, he lets out a hum. “Are you trying to tell me you want a kiss?”

“No!” Gasping loudly, your head snaps to attention and instantly you regret it from the way a smirk seems permanently placed on Gojos face. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as you try to curl away from him.

“Sheesh, way to make me feel special.” Lightly scratching your leg, Gojo puffs out his chest a little. “I’ll have you know plenty of people have said I’m a great kisser.” A devilish look overtakes his face, a new thought having popped into his head. “I bet you haven’t even had your first kiss, huh?”

The noise you let out is stupid and unintelligible, and it tells Gojo all he has to know. The hand on your ankle goes a little higher to grab your shin and this time when he tugs at you, your body moves slightly.

“So what if I haven’t?” You try to save whatever dignity you have left by forcing your voice to be stern, but with a slight underlying waver it gives you away. When you make eye contact with Gojo now, you see his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and a look in his eyes that brings that ache back between your legs.

“How about we change that then?” He poses his words like a question but there’s not even the illusion of a choice presented. He sits up a little straighter in his seat, the shorts on his thighs riding up just a bit, and pulls on your leg again.

“I…” The tips of your fingers are tingling, nerves firing off at every possible point as you follow his lead. Sitting up on your knees, Gojo is quick to shuffle you over to him. His hands on your hips help steady you as you settle across his lap, and they quickly wrap your arms around his neck when he senses hesitation from you.

“Just let me do all the work, okay?” He whispers, voice just loud enough over the movie still playing in the back. His hand spreads across your lower back, pushing you closer to the apex of his legs. With a hand on the back of your head, he pulls you down to meet his lips.

Kissing Gojo was just as good as you imagined it to be. His mouth fit perfectly against yours, sliding on your skin and making your eyes fall shut. A soft groan leaves your mouth the longer he’s pressed against you, and your fingers weave into his hair. It’s unclear how long this simple lip lock lasts until you become hungry for more.

Carefully, your lips part. There’s a part of your brain that’s screaming out about your lack of experience, desperate to preserve your dignity and not make a fool of yourself. Pushing past that, the tip of your tongue presses against Gojos closed mouth.

“I thought I said to let me do the work.” Pulling away from you, Gojo clicks his tongue. “Such an eager little girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Keeping your eyes closed, you nod breathlessly. Shifting on his lap, you fully seat yourself onto him. With your ass pressing onto his legs, you can feel something hard and hot just out of reach in his pants.

With a chuckle Gojo kisses you again. Readjusting his grip on your head, he tilts it to the side and opens his mouth. He doesn’t need to do much more besides that and your mouth is already open. His tongue slides into your mouth at the same time his hand grabs your ass, and you moan because of both of them.

Instinct takes over any thoughts in your brain, all the worry and doubts you had dashed away. On shaky legs, you rut your hips forward onto Gojo, the friction catching on your clit. His tongue has barely made a home for itself in your mouth, and here you are humping him.

Letting go of your head, both hands clamp down on your ass. He forces you to slow down to an almost complete stop and he swallows the whine that comes out of your throat. Securing his feet onto the floor, Gojo gently pushes his hips up while he rocks you forward, and the noise you let out is one he will never forget.

The pace he sets is agonizingly slow, nothing like the one you’d had. Every brush of your body against his has your skin erupting in goosebumps and heat flashes across your body. Fingers tug his hair harder when the grip on your ass gets tighter, and you nearly throw yourself onto him more than you already have.

You don’t even realize the tiny little whimpers coming out of your mouth in a steady rhythm until they turn to wanton moans, a clunky sound you’re unsure about but make all the same. Gojo makes sound too, a deep grumble in his chest that manages to outdo you.

Time is lost with your lips against his. The movie that’s playing has long been forgotten, playing to an audience of no one. It’s soundtrack is a distant entity, muffled by the ringing in your ears and the heat accumulating between your bodies.

“G-gojo.” You pull back with a face hot as fire and eyes closed softly. A plea is on the tip of your tongue, and although you don’t know what you want, you’re ready to beg for it all the same. Gojo chases your lips, capturing them again for another searing kiss that makes you feel drunk.

He hums when he finally sets you free, the cool air from his nose fanning over your face. Forcing his body to relax, Gojo lets go of your ass and drops his hands to his sides. Letting his head fall back onto the couch, he blinks owlishly at the ceiling.

“Would you look at the time, it’s past your bedtime.”

“What?” Turning to look at the clock on the wall, your blood runs cold when you see what time it is. Grabbing his limp hands, you try to put them back on your body. “No, no forget about that.”

“I can’t. Little girls need to go to sleep when it’s time.” Gojo is fighting back a vicious smirk, forcing his face to remain as neutral as he can.

“Gojo, no!” You cry, bouncing on his lap like a child. His body remains limp as you attempt to engage him in another kiss, and frustrated tears rise in your eyes. “C’mon!” Your eyes flicker between his and you nearly throw yourself off his lap. “This isn’t fair!”

“Throwing a tantrum? I thought you were more mature than that.” Standing up and stretching his impossibly long limbs, Gojo clicked his tongue and flicked the TV off.

“Whatever.” Head clouded with lust and pent up frustration, you stormed out of the room much to Gojos pleasure. He followed after you slowly, stopping in the hallway when you get to your door.

“I don’t get a kiss goodnight?” He teases, and if looks could kill he’d be dead by now. The pout on your lip is almost negated by your puffy eyes straining to hold back tears. Laughing under his breath he walks up to you and pats your head. “Sleep well, little girl.”

“Yeah.” Nodding your head, you close your door and all but fall into bed. Your whole body is tense and unable to relax, the throbbing between your legs too much to ignore. Stripping down and crawling defeatedly under the blankets, you stare up at the dark ceiling.

Curling your fist, you punch the bed twice before shoving a hand between your legs. Your cunt is soaked all from a little bit of kissing, and in any other circumstance you’d be embarrassed. But this time, the only thing you could feel was an indescribable need to touch yourself.

Biting your lip hard between your teeth, your legs spread a little to accommodate the new arrival. There’s slick coating your skin, making everything a sticky mess. Inexperienced fingers press against your swollen clit and you gasp loudly.

“Shit.” A whine leaves your throat at the first touch, and your fingers rub clumsily along yourself. Pushing your head back against the pillows you try to recreate the feeling of grinding on Gojos lap. Every so often that spark hits you, but it’s not enough to get off to.

Slowly, you push a finger inside yourself, and then two. With a strain in your wrist you know you’ll feel tomorrow, you thrust your fingers in and out of your cunt. The wet clicking sound of your fingers is unmissable and you're quickly brought to a messy, uncoordinated orgasm.

“Shit.” You swear again, finally able to relax your body. Wiping your fingers on your blankets, you toss and turn to get into a comfortable position. The orgasm you had brought you some reprieve, but in the back of your mind you know it would have been better if Gojo had done it.

Waking up in the morning with the mess between your legs makes a wave of second hand embarrassment wash over you. Dressing quickly, it’s both a relief and a disappointment that Gojo has work during the day, early enough that you don’t see him in the morning.

Eating breakfast and lunch alone, there’s still a feeling in your body that won’t dissipate. The ache between your legs isn’t as strong as last night, but it’s still there, sitting in your body and ruining your underwear.

Your eyes keep staring at the clock, counting down the minutes until Gojo returns. There were other things you could have been doing, things that were more productive with your time, but every time you tried to move on it was impossible to focus and you found yourself back in the same spot.

When Gojo was nearly home, you sprung into action with a half baked plan. He’d texted you asking if you wanted takeout again or a home cooked meal, and you replied immediately that you would be cooking dinner. The only incentive you had to cook was to show him how responsible you were, and to make up for your show of emotions last night.

“(Y/N), I’m home!” Gojo announced as he opened the door. Toeing his shoes off, he waited for an answer or for you to appear before him, but he was left alone in the entryway. Walking past the lounge room, you weren’t there, and he was surprised to find you in the kitchen.

“Hi.” Giving him a quick wave, you kept your attention on the stove. His gaze lingered on you, a half smile on his face, but Gojo said nothing and left the room. You could hear him moving around the house, going to his room and changing into casual clothes and using the toilet before returning to you.

“So, what’re you making?” Standing close to you on the stove, he leaned over your body. His head brushed your temple and your breath hitched.

“J-just something easy.” You squeaked, painfully aware of how his hands settled onto the counters, trapping you against the stove and his body. He hummed but made no other response, and you just stood there together.

“Ya know, it’s kinda like you’re my little housewife, cooking for me after a long day of work.” His comment made you gasp. A million different scenarios ran through your head, all of them where you really were his wife in a house you shared together.

Keeping your lips pressed together to spare the sanity you had left, you nodded as a response. Gojo chuckled and got closer, placing his hands on your hips. Jumping when you felt his nose brush against your neck, you couldn’t move a muscle to question him.

“Having you as a housewife doesn’t sound too bad, now that I think about it.” His breath was loud in your ear, and so was the kiss he planted behind it. His teeth scraped against your neck, and he sucked lightly on your skin before letting you go. “Looks like it’s almost ready. I’ll go set the table.”

As soon as Gojo untangled himself from you, you let out a staggered sigh. With shaky fingers you turned the stove off and took the food off the heat, your eyes glued to the pan so he wouldn’t see your mortified face. Bringing the food to the table quickly, you stared at the table as you ate.

“So, do you like it?” You asked when he was more than halfway done.

“I do.” Propping his elbow on the table, Gojo flashed you a big smile. “I love whatever my little housewife makes for me.” Slapping a hand over your face in embarrassment, you sunk into your chair when he let out a laugh at your expense.

When dinner was over, Gojo insisted on helping you clean up. Rolling up his sleeves and pressing his body right against your back, he promised to do a good job washing the dishes, but he kept grabbing your hand and tangling your fingers together. By the time you finished, nearly an hour had passed and the ache between your legs was killing you.

“Come sit and watch the game with me.” He mumbled, grabbing a beer from the fridge and going to the lounge room.

“What game?” You followed him obediently, standing next to the couch as he took a seat.

“Baseball. I placed a few bets on tonight's game and I wanna win.” Cracking open the can, he took a long drink. “Come sit down.” Spreading his legs, he pat his thigh loudly.

“Okay.” Hesitantly climbing onto his lap, your hands gripped his arm as he pulled you flush against him. Gojos' chin rest on your shoulder, making you lay on his chest and feel every time he drew a breath.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He whispers once a commercial hits.

“R-really?”

“Mhmm.” The arm around your middle tightens up. “Been thinking about kissing those pretty lips of yours.” You tried to turn your head to look at him, but he wouldn’t budge. Squirming in his lip made him groan, the vibrations traveling across your back. “What’re you doing, little girl?”

“I wanna kiss you.” At your admittance, Gojo lets you go and helps you turn around in his lap. The position is a familiar one, and your ass nestles against his thighs. Going in for a kiss, your brows furrow when he dodges your lips.

“Once there’s a pause in the game I’ll kiss you.” He says off-handedly, pushing your face out of the way.

“But-”

“Shh.” With a pinch to your ass, Gojo shuts down any protest. The same frustration you felt last night was coming back, coupled with annoyance at being ignored. You tried again to kiss Gojo, but he dodged you again.

“Fine.” Pinching him back, you practically collapsed in his lap. Watching the game over your shoulder, you truly couldn’t care less about it, but you needed to know the second there was a break.

But it seemed like there would never be one. Even when a commercial came, Gojo would keep your head pressed against his chest, stopping you from doing anything other than trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Gojo!” You cried, growing frantic. “Stop being mean!”

“Mean? I would never be mean to you.” He gasped dramatically. Letting you sit up, the smirk he had on his face had your fingers itching to slap him. Grabbing your chin, he pursed your lips and finally kissed you.

The taste of the beer on his tongue was something you could ignore when it entered your mouth. Getting what you wanted at last was the only thing on your mind. Your hands found their spot in his hair again, and you kept him pressed to you even when he tried to pull away.

“Someone’s needy, huh?” Gojo chuckled, finally able to break free and breathe.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day too.” The words fell out of your mouth before you had the chance to think.

“Oh, really?” Gojo quirked a brow. Resting his head in his hand, he licked his lips. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking then.”

“Uhm…” Suddenly feeling shy, you look down at his lap. You can see the outline of his cock straining against his pants and it makes you lick your lips. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you and-” A quick glance up makes your face flush with heat. “And about how you make me feel.”

“How’s that?” He presses, sliding a hand to your ass.

“I get all hot and sweaty, and that place starts to hurt.” Your hand does a vague gesture down to your crotch and it makes Gojo chuckle.

“That place? Do you mean your pussy?” Screwing your eyes closed at his question, you nod. Gojo lets out a little coo, his fingers affectionately squeezing your ass. “You poor baby, I bet it’s just a mess down there.”

“Yeah.” Spreading your legs further across his lap, you try to get comfortable with the wetness that had pooled in your underwear.

“What a shame.” Gojo clicks his tongue, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you again. But then his eyes dart to the TV and his body tenses. “Oh shit, I think I might win this game!”

“Huh?” Blinking rapidly, you shift again on his lap and look over your shoulder. Whatever was happening had his full attention, and not even your kisses along his jawline can draw him back to you.

Gojo keeps you seated on his lap for the entirety of the game, every so often kissing you like you wanted, just enough to keep you from leaving but not enough to satisfy you. When the game is over, he repeats the process of yesterday and sends you to your room for your bedtime.

Waking up the next morning is a struggle after being blue balled for two days straight. It was like the release you’d given yourself the first night meant nothing because it wasn’t done by Gojo. Stumbling into the kitchen in a shirt and shorts, you bumped straight into Gojo.

“Hey sleepy head.” He ruffles your hair affectionately, his eyes quite obviously staring right at your ass skirted by the hem of your shorts.

“Hey.” Leaning your head against his chest, you give him a sleepy hug.

“Still tired?” Gojo feigns like he’s interested in whatever you have to say while his hands go under your shirt. The pads of his fingers press into your lower back for a moment before sliding up.

Leaning back a little, you move your arms out of the way for him to bring his hands to your front. His palms cup your breasts, just as hot as your flesh. Grazing your nipples with his thumbs, Gojo hums to himself and nods.

“Can I see?” Gojo asks, slowly tugging up your shirt.

“Yeah.” You nod. He folds up your shirt and pushes the fabric into your mouth, letting go when you bite down. Your fingers are holding up the rest of your shirt, and Gojo squeezes your arms together, making your breasts push together.

“What pretty tits you have.” Leaning down, Gojo presses a kiss to the center of your chest, and another atop both breasts. You’re quick to say a muffled thank you and Gojo kisses you again. His nose is pressed onto your chest and it’s all he can do to pull away and pull your shirt out of your mouth. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” You ask instead, blindly finding a seat at the dining table.

“I’m going in a little later today for a meeting.” Stepping up to the stove, Gojo sweeps his arm over the assorted ingredients he’s set out. “Now, do you want an omelette?”

When Gojo returns home the next few days after work, it’s either long after your bedtime or he’s too tired to do anything more than go to bed. He was caught up in meetings and late night work functions, leaving no time or energy to spend with you. When the weekend finally comes, you don’t even see him until the evening.

“Hey.” He opens his bedroom door the moment you open the bathroom door, a cloud of steam billowing out around you.

“H-hey.” Caught off guard by his sudden appearance, you grip the towel tighter to your body. His eyes flick down to your skin, slightly damp and smelling sweetly of your body wash. Your body moves on it’s own when he takes a step forward, pressing yourself against the doorframe.

“It’s been a while.” He’s in front of you in just a few short strides. Lithe fingers trace your neck, making you shiver as a tingle goes through you. His hand cups your face, turning it up to him. “I’ve missed you, little girl.”

Gojo kisses you before you have time to answer. What usually starts as a gentle kiss is far gone, replaced with a hunger behind his lips that leaves you trembling. His tongue slides into your mouth with ease, roaming all around your mouth while his teeth clink into yours.

Your thighs are spread apart by his knee shoving between them, and your fingers nearly drop the towel to grab onto him. His knee is pressed right against your cunt, grinding deliciously onto you.

“Gojo!” You gasp when he lets you free. Air rushes into your lungs and is expelled just as fast. His teeth sink into the side of your neck, sucking hard on the skin and lapping up any lingering water droplets. “Gojo, please, I-”

“I know.” He grunts, sucking on the junction of your neck and shoulder. A rough groan leaves his lips and his knee drops, replaced by the hard on straining against his pants. Rough hands rush to bundle up your towel around your hips.

“Fuck, look at you.” Gojo growls, his eyes staring directly at your cunt. “What a pretty little pussy.”

“Gojo!” Throwing your head back, you nearly sob his name when he ruts his hips into you. His hands are digging marks into your hips and thighs with every thrust, and if it weren’t for his body holding you up, you would have crumpled to the floor.

All the sensations are too much, mounting pleasure in your body that threatens to take over. One hand is mindlessly clutching the towel, needing something to ground you in the moment that’s quickly getting away from you.

“Shit.” After sucking a harsh mark into your skin, Gojo stops completely. He stands painfully still, his own orgasm nearly barreling over him. Wrenching his hands off your body, he fixes your towel and takes a tiny step back. Licking his lips, Gojo runs a hand through his hair.

“W-why’d you stop?” Looking up at him with wide eyes, your chest is heaving as you catch your breath.

“I don’t want to blow my load right now, that’d be kind of embarrassing don’t you think?”

“I guess.” At a loss for words, you watch helplessly as he takes another step back. The tent in his pants is painfully obvious. “So when? When can we…” Your eyes bounce around the room, skirting around the question.

“Soon, I promise.” Adjusting his pants, Gojo flicks his head to your bedroom. “Now go get dressed, wouldn’t want you to catch a cold standing out here.”

It’s nearly three days before Gojo kisses you again. He doesn’t kiss you, but he does everything else to you that he wants to do. Shoving you against the wall and fondling your ass before he leaves for work. Grabbing at your tits when you’re cooking or washing dishes. Making you perch your ass on his lap when he’s watching another baseball game, his fingers drawing patterns on your thighs.

“Gojo!” Finally, it’s your turn to corner him in the hallway. Blocking his way to the rest of the house, you cross your arms and fix him with your strongest glare.

“Yes?”

“I need you!” Stamping your foot, you know it looks childish, but you need to get your point across. Biting his lip, Gojo steps up to you, giving you a once over.

“Need me how?”

“You know how!” His question shakes your confidence a little, enough to make you break eye contact with him and look at the wall.

“I don’t think I do.” Rocking on his heels, Gojo shrugs dramatically.

“Like- like-” Dropping your arms, you do the only thing you know will work: you shove your hand onto his crotch, palming at his cock and making him jump. “Like this!”

“Woah, little girl.” He’s quick to grab your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away.

“Please!” The whine you’d been fighting back comes out, and it’s music to Gojos ears. “You always do stuff and it makes me feel funny and I really need you.” The frustration makes tears well in your eyes as you look up at him, and he pouts his lip at you.

“Oh poor baby.” Taking your hand away from him, Gojo turns to your room. “Let’s go then. Seems I’ve been playing with you too long.” Rushing to your room, you sit eagerly on the edge of your bed. “Lay down.” He gently pushes your shoulder back, and your head hits the pillow.

Climbing on top of you, Gojo nestles his body against yours and kisses you. Gripping his shoulders tightly, you pull him down harder. The drought he’d put you through had driven you crazy, causing you to dream about his lips on you.

His tongue slid into your mouth quickly, tangling with yours and knocking his teeth with yours. The tips of his fingers skirted around the edge of your shirt for just a moment before delving deeper. Sliding his hand under your bra, Gojo tweaked your nipple.

Making quick work of your shirt, Gojo sat on his heels and peeled his top off. Your eyes were glued to his body, catching every little twitch of his muscles and dip and curve of his chest. He chuckled at your mesmerized face and leant down, taking your nipple into his mouth.

Grabbing your other breast, Gojo worked both your nipples to full hardness, alternating on sucking them into his mouth. The moans that came from your mouth were music to his ears, and your hips blindly rutted against him.

Flicking your nipples with his tongue one last time, Gojo kissed down your chest. Reaching your bottoms, he didn’t need to tell you to lift your hips up, your hands were already pulling them off with him.

“Shit.” Gojo breathed, laying between your legs. Your inner thighs and cunt were covered in your slick, and the heady aroma had Gojo eager to stick his tongue inside you. Sliding his hands underneath your thighs, he set them on his shoulders.

Spreading your lips with his thumbs, Gojos tongue flicked your clit, making your hips nearly shoot off the bed. Your hands immediately wound into the sheets as he continued his ministrations.

“Gojo, please.” You cried, growing tired of the little flicks he was giving you.

“Be patient, baby.” He replied, quickly sucking your clit into his mouth. Your thighs tried to close around his head but his hold on your body was strong. Digging his hands into you, Gojo pulled your cunt closer to his mouth.

Shoving his tongue into you, Gojo lapped tirelessly at your gummy walls, loudly swallowing your essence mixed with his saliva. His nose rubbed your clit, relentless in his pursuit in tasting you. Muffled groans came from his mouth, the vibrations adding to the pleasure.

Pressing his thumb against your clit, he rubbed it furiously. Gojos eyes were screwed closed as he worked you to your first orgasm, his jaw beginning to ache from the force he put behind his tongue.

“Gojo-” Your body tensed up as the orgasm hit you. The fingers gripping the sheets threatened to tear them, your nails digging dangerously into the fabric. A loud, drawn out moan left you and your eyes rolled back.

“Fuck yes, baby.” Gojo wrenched your thighs open and sat up on his elbow. His thumb on your clit didn’t slow down, milking you through your orgasm. When your body relaxed, Gojo shoved his fingers into you, too worked up himself to worry about stretching you out properly.

The two fingers he had inside you stuffed you more than your own fingers ever could. Your walls stretched to fit around the long digits, clenching hard around him. His thumb pressed against your clit again and he began to move his fingers in and out of you at a steady rhythm.

The overstimulation from your first orgasm gave way to pleasure the more he fucked you on his fingers. Gojos palm slapped against your sex with every thrust, mixing with your moans and echoing around the room.

The second orgasm came much quicker than the first, and it was tinged with pain at the edge of your senses. Letting out a loud groan at the feeling of your walls milking his fingers, Gojo pulled out and sat back, roughly ripping his shorts off and exposing his leaking cock to the air.

“Think you can take my cock, baby?” He asked, gripping his cock hard at the base.

“Yes, please!”

“Good answer.” Grabbing your hands, he placed them under your thighs and pressed them to your chest. “Be a good girl and hold your legs for me.” Eager to please, you got a good hold on your thighs and waited.

Both of you stared at his cock lining up with your slit. Taking his time, Gojo pushed the tip past the tight ring of muscle and thrust softly, slowly working you to take his whole cock.

“How does it feel?” He asked, laughing breathlessly.

“Strange.” Your answer made him laugh more.

“Am I the first one to fuck this pretty pussy?”

“Yeah.” A wicked grin spreads across Gojos face and he leans between your legs to kiss your forehead.

“This old man sure feels special.”

“You’re not old!” You gasp, loosening your hold on your legs. “Not at all!”

“Legs, baby.” He taps your hands and you quickly right yourself. Pressing his hands into the pillow beneath your head, Gojo forces your legs to bend a little more. “I’m a dirty old man compared to you.”

“No-” You go to protest again, but the sharp snap of his hips into yours cuts you off. Your head immediately falls back, exposing the column of your throat for Gojo to lean forward and kiss. He pulls back again, making sure you feel the full length of his cock before snapping forward again.

Gojo thrusts into you with no mercy, lust clouding his senses and any reason in his head. Your walls are so tight, they almost grip him enough to stop him from pulling out again. He’s waited so long to feel you wrapped around him, and now that he has you he doesn’t want to waste a single second.

His heavy balls slap against your ass with each thrust, adding to the cacophony of sounds mixing together in your room. Your slick is being fucked out of you and dripping down between your ass and onto his balls, creating a damp spot beneath you.

“Such a good little girl.” Gojo pants, cupping your face with his hand. Swiping his thumb across your lower lip, he grins when you take it into your mouth and suck hard on it. “Taking my cock so well, like you were made for it.”

“Mhmm!” Nodding, you let go of one leg to hold onto his hand, lacing a few fingers together. Pressing his thumb against your tongue, Gojo pulled your mouth open and pursed his lips. Letting his saliva drip down into your mouth, he felt a swell of pride watching you swallow it immediately.

Your hand slid off your leg, the sweat accumulating on your body making you lose your grip. With your feet dangling near Gojos head, he pressed a quick kiss to your ankle before digging his hands underneath your ass and angling your hips up.

“Fuck!” You squeal loudly at the new angle and your hands scramble to push against Gojos hips. “T-too much!” Gojo barks out a laugh and swats your hands away, pining one to your side as he pounds into you.

“Shit, how’d you get even tighter, little girl? I can barely pull out.”

“Gojo, please!” Tears begin to gather on your lashes from the onslaught of pleasure, and you let out a short yelp at feeling his fingers against your puffy clit. “Please, please it’s- fuck-” Your head thrashed against the pillows, unable to run away from the feeling.

“Be good and squirt on my cock.” Gojo growled. He was close to cumming himself, your cunt that he’d denied himself for so long was just as good as he imagined it to be. It was all he could do to make sure you came before he filled you to the brim with his cum.

“Stop I’m gonna- Gojo- pee, I’m gonna-” You babbled mindlessly, tongue falling out of your mouth and making drool coat your chin. Seeing your fucked out face had Gojos racing heart pounding even harder.

Hunching over, he forced your legs to nearly touch your head as he rutted into you. Barely pulling his cock out all the way, Gojo worked your clit in his fingers and was rewarded with a high pitched moan, akin to a scream in his ear.

“Fuck-” He grunted. The force of your orgasm was nearly pushing his cock out all the way, your juices gushing around him. Sinking his teeth into your leg, Gojo came inside your spasming cunt, fucking his cum out with yours.

You were nearly sobbing by the time he fully stopped thrusting. Your body ached all over, muscles that had been pulled taut were finally being released and allowed to relax. Gojo slid your legs off his shoulders as he panted for breath.

Slowly pulling out of you, he stared at his softening cock absolutely covered in your release. His entire lower region was glistening in the light of the room and the wet spot on the bed was much bigger now.

Sliding out of the room quietly, he returned with a damp towel. Quickly wiping himself, he gingerly wiped down your sex, letting out little giggles when your body twitched uncontrollably. Setting the towel to the side, he smiled down at you.

“Hey little girl.” His grin turned into a full toothed smile at seeing your dazed face, drunk off his fuck and cum. A dopey smile spread across your face and you lifted a tired hand to grab at his. Giggling bashfully, you pressed your face into the pillow to get away from his stare.

“What?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heat as he continued to look at you.

“Nothing, just looking at my pretty girl.” Squeezing your hand, Gojos eyes glance at the wet spot on the bed. “Ya know, it’s almost your bedtime, and I can’t have you sleeping in a wet bed.” Humming like you were following along, you giggled again when his hand squeezed your waist.

“What?”

“Are you listening to me?” Gojo chuckled, squeezing you again and making you jump. “Come sleep in my room with me.”

“Okay.” Helping you stand, Gojo led you to his bedroom. Even though it was the guest room, it felt like he had always lived in this room. It smelled of him, and his clothes were everywhere. Flopping onto the bed, you yawned as soon as your head hit the pillow. “Gojo.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.” Gojo snorted loudly and nodded. Helping you under the covers, he slid on a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I’ll get you a snack. Try to stay awake.” You give him a lopsided thumbs up that makes him snort again. Turning on his heels, he knows as soon as he comes back, you’ll be passed out and snoring into his pillow. And he’s right.

[itsallyscorner]

okay so I love littlemix!reader x Tom holland??? the best pairing ever??? Anyways could you do something based of Holiday, like it’s obviously based off their lovers and maybe his reaction to the song & mv? Pls I’m in love with Baby Mix btw 😌❤️

Glad you’re enjoying the Little Mix member!reader x Tom Holland fics, I’m enjoying them too🥰 Thank you for the support on Baby Mix, btw, I appreciate it! Sorry for taking so long! Much love and happy reading💖

💌.

Holiday

I completely forgot when the girls dropped the video so I’m making up a time. Enjoy:)

Counting down the minutes to midnight, Tom continuously refreshed the YouTube app on your smart tv. The two of your were in his shared home with Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine. You’ve been staying with the lot since the beginning of quarantine; London’s travel ban prevented you from catching a flight back home to your family, resulting in your boyfriend, Tom, begging you to stay with him and his mates. You didn’t have a problem with it in all honesty, the boys were great and respectful roommates. Though you were the only woman in the house, they provided you with entertainment and respected your alone time. They were a nice group of lads, letting you in on inside jokes and making you feel like you were part of the gang. By now, you probably were part of the gang. Harrison even considered on replacing Tom with you.

“Bubs, the video’s not gonna be up yet.” You glance at the screen that showed the previous videos the band’s channel posted. Tom huffed, nudging your arms apart so he can squeeze through them to lay on your chest. The two of you were currently in his room waiting for the release of Holiday’s music video. Tom had been anticipating the video all day, asking for hints about the music video’s concept and wondering how it looked.

With his body snuggled up against yours, he rested his head on your chest and wrapped his arm around your torso. His other hand reached towards the tv with the remote as he clicked the video for Break Up Song.

“I know it’s not gonna be up yet, but what if they accidentally uploaded it early? I wanna see the video already.” He whined. His fingers began to drum to the beat of Break Up Song on your stomach.

You laughed, fingers carding through his brown curls that have grown for the past months. He hums along to the song while you text the girls. He lets out a chuckle once he sees you on the screen doing the dance that he’s been helping you learn for the video. You had been struggling to get the choreography down and doing the moves on time. Noticing your desperate attempts at the moves, Tom offered to help you. Obviously in the end you perfected the choreography, seeing as it made the video, thanks to Tom.

“You are so cute.” He mused watching you dance around in the video. “Look at you dance, I don’t know what you were so worried about. You look so adorable when you dance and look at your face! Just wanna squish those cheeks together.” He began to tease you. You whine his name out as he reached up to squish your cheeks together with his hand. Your phone began to rang causing him to stop. He glances at the sceeen, “It’s my best friend, lemme answer it.”

“Go ahead.” You giggled handing him your phone. His head remains on your chest as he answers the FaceTime call. Jesy pops up on the screen with a giant smile but it drops once she sees Tom, changing into a playful scowl.

“Hi best friend!” Tom greets her loudly, a playful grin on his face. Jesy rolls her eyes at the boy.

“Hi Tom.” She greeted him sarcastically. “Give the phone to (y/n).”

“She’s right here, see,” Tom moved the phone further away so you were both in the frame. You waved at her, “Jess I miss you!” You cried.

“I miss you too darling—Tom give her the bloody phone!” Jesy scolded him through the phone. He let out a dramatic sigh before handing you your phone and snuggling into your stomach, mumbling something about “not being able to catch a break from the constant bullying of Jesy Nelson.”

“Right just a few minutes left, I’m trying to get the other girls on here.” Jesy explained as she tapped around her phone. Sooner or later. The two of you were joined by Perrie, Jade, and Leigh-Anne.

Perrie let out a squeal as she saw everyone on the screen, “You guys I miss you so much!”

“Didn’t we all see each other just a few weeks ago?” Jade asked sipping on a glass of wine as per usual.

“Yeah, on the set, but it’s a few weeks too long.” You pouted. You noticed that everyone was drinking except for you, “Wait, has everyone got a drink except for me?”

Leigh-Anne’s eyes scanned everyone on the screen, “You are, are you in bed already? It’s so early babe.”

“Leigh-Anne’s it’s literally about to be midnight, it’s late.” Jesy chimes. Jade makes a sound of disagreement, “I mean does time even matter anymore?”

“What day is it anyway? I’ve lost track.” Perrie thought out loud. You moved to get up from the bed but Tom stopped you. “Where are you going?” He whispered.

“I’m getting a drink, I’ll be back.” You patted his cheek before sitting up. He stops you once again and stands from the bed, “I’ll get you one.” He kisses your temple and leaves the room.

“Aww, was that Tom?” Jade asked leaning closer to her camera. You hummed, “Yup, being the amazing boyfriend he is and getting me a drink.”

Perrie smirked at you, “Gosh, there’s that smile again. She’s whipped for ‘im ladies!” The girls began “ooo-ing” like a bunch of elementary school girls. “Guys, stop.” You whine.

“Have you told him the part you wrote was inspired by him?” Leigh-Anne asked, chin in her palm.

“No, I’ll tell him while he’s watching. He’s been so excited the whole day, probably more than me.” You chuckle. As if on cue, Tom comes back in with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“Tom’s going to be so nerdy about it, like a cute nerdy, you know what I mean? All mushy gushy. Like how he gets whenever (y/n) kisses his cheeks.” Jesy said as the girls cooed. Tom peeks from beside you.

“Did I hear that correctly? Did Jesy just compliment me?” He asked everyone, looking back at you for confirmation. You shrugged as you looked at Jesy. Jade stifled a laugh at Jesy’s annoyed expression.

“Oh fuck off you div. It’s an observation. You could barely compose yourself whenever you’re around (y/n).” Jesy playfully jabs at him. You adored their friendship, it was like a brother/sister bond. Jesy being the older sibling and Tom being the annoying little brother.

“Jes, leave the poor boy alone, he makes our baby happy.” Perrie defended Tom. Tom smiles thankfully at her, “Thank you Perrie, at least I know some of you like me.”

Tom pops open the champagne and takes one of the glasses to pour the beverage in, “But I’ll take it as a compliment Jes. Cheers to that.” He raises his glass and clinks it with your phone screen. You and the girls continue to talk until midnight. When the video was finally released you all celebrated and took some screenshots of each other to post later.

When your FaceTime call with the girls ended, you turned to Tom, who already had the video up on the screen. He made grabby hands at you and pulled you to sit in between his legs. With his back against the headboard he made sure the two of you were comfy before asking you, “Can I click play now?”

You chuckled at him as his leg bounced, “Yup.” He pressed play, placing the remote down and wrapping his arm around your front to pull you closer to him. The intro to the video starts, the title of the song appearing on the screen in a water type font. Jesy pops up on the screen singing her part, Tom cheers yelling “It’s my best friend!”

Tom hypes each of the girls up while they appear on the screen, cheering their names. When the chorus comes, his brows furrow as he looks down at you. “Wait where are you? Why—why didn’t they show you yet?” He questioned you, visibly upset. You were about to answer but instead pointed to the screen when you realized your part was coming up.

Boy, have I told ya?

You give it to me like no other guy

We got that heat, yeah, like the summer (summer)

And that's why I'm so glad I made you mine

You appeared on the screen, body cladded in a white bikini that had gold straps for both the bra and thong. You bursted out laughing when you saw Tom’s reaction. His eyes look like they were about to bulge out his head while his jaw was slacked.

“Holy...shit.” He mumbled eyes glued to the screen as you sang. The scene was you in that blue hallway type set. You looked at the camera, bedroom eyes fully activated as your back slid down the wall. You felt his grip around you tighten, his breathing getting deeper.

The scene changed to the one with the planets, sculptures, and lounging chairs. You were seen walking towards a Chaise lounge, giving the camera a perfect view of your bum. While you sat sideways on the couch in the video, Tom couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous you looked in the video. You looked like a goddess, confident as you strutted around in that little number of yours in the video.

You turned to look at him once your part was done and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You know my whole part was about you right?” His head snaps to look at you, “You wrote something about me in a song?”

“Tommy, I always do. Who else would I be singing about?” You asked him amused. He took a second to think before shaking his head, “I thought it was in general, like it was based on how you would feel if you were with someone that made you feel that way.”

You nod at his explanation, “Well yeah, the fans could see it that way. But when I sing it, it’s about you.”

A goofy grin made its way to his face before he giggled, “It’s about me.” He pulled you into a hug from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. He turned back to the tv to see you all dressed as mermaids while you sang your part in the chorus.

“Wait what—you’re mermaids?” The look of confusion appeared on his face again as he tried to figure out the video. He looked at you then back to the screen, repeating the action a few times.

“I never thought I’d say this, but if you were a mermaid, I’d still fuck you.” He confessed with a shrug. You bursted out laughing at his confession, “How do you even fuck a mermaid, Tom?”

His hands gripped your sides, voice going down an octave, “You tell me, (y/n). Get the mermaid tail back and we’ll find out.” You looked at him shocked, “Thomas!”

He laughed dropping the act and went back to watching the music video. “Wait, I’m still cofused. I thought you guys were in space cause of the planets and stuff. Why are you guys also underwater? And mermaids?” You tilted your head trying to come up with an answer for him.

“Um—it’s a spa, on a another planet, which also has an ocean I’m guessing, and that’s why we’re also mermaids?” You explained, also questioning yourself.

“I like the concept, probably the most random video you guys have had, but it’s sick.” He approved of the video with an impressed look on his face. When the video ended, he immediately pressed replay. Though when your part came up this time he let out a “GOD DAMN” before his eyes scanned you up and down. When he finally felt like he’s processed the music video, he let it play in the background and paid attention to you.

He leaned down to kiss your lips sweetly, “Love, that was amazing. I’m proud of you.” He was quick to add on, “And thank you for writing a part of the song about me, I never thought someone would write a song about me, not even a part. But thank you, I love you so much.”

You giggled shoving your face into his neck as you both moved to cuddling. Suddenly you remembered something you and the boys promised to do.

“Tom! We were supposed to watch the video with the other boys! Remember we promised to not watch it without them?” You leaned back to look at Tom who was already shaking his head.

“Oh they’re not allowed to watch the video.” He muttered. Your brows furrow at him. Tom motions to the tv, the part where your bum was facing the camera on the screen.

“Because of that, I don’t need them seeing that, that’s mine.” One of his hands trail down the length of your back to grip your ass. He rolled over so he was on top of you, dipping his head into your neck, his lips ghosted fluttery kisses along your skin. You let out a content sigh, running your hands through his soft hair. When his lips reached your ear, he whispered, “But seriously though, you should think about investing in a mermaid tail.”

[cosmiclatte28]

Forced Marriage II

Hello!! The awaited second part is here! Refresh memory here

Thank you so much for waiting and I promise, one more chapter and this trilogy is done. Also I already have the idea and ending, so it's going to be fast.

A/n : I cried in the middle of writing this. A bit too carried away by the emotion of explaining (y/n)'s abusive father. I cried like cried a lot and sobbed. Blew my nose and wiped my eyes but as I type tears keep falling (I hope I am not the only one crying)

trigger warning : character's death

tagging : @yutahoes @neopalette @swagmonsterofficial @byunniebaekhyunnie @huniehoeee

writing net : @supermwritersnet @multifandomnet

“Good morning Mam, is (y/n) awake?" Baekhyun greets the young lady watering the small garden on the front porch.

“Oh Baekhyun! What is it that makes you come early in the morning? And No she hasn't” your mother looks at the young energetic man in front of her. Memories flash by her eyes when she still remembers Baekhyun being the small cheerful boy from next door. Puberty does hit him well, your mother thought.

“Did you bump your head last time mam?” Baekhyun playfully asks, he knows your mother close enough to crack jokes and secretly your mother loves his playful jokes.

“Oh Baekhyun, you’ve never changed! Always the fun silly careless boy from next door. Now, I know you’re here to deliver milk right?” your mom takes a peek at the truck Baekhyun’s brother is handling.

Well the Byun family owns a farm and supplies milk and eggs to this town and the neighboring town. They’re a well known family for it.

“Do you mind if we get one more bottle? We have guests today.” Your mother takes out her wallet to pay for the milk and Baekhyun nods “We have plenty today! I’m glad your guest gets to taste this town’s best milk. Who is this lucky guest mam?” Baekhyun asks as he puts the milk down to the front patio.

Your mother comes back with some cash and gives it to Baekhyun along with a basket of fresh bread she just baked this morning.

“It’s your favorite bread. I see there’s a lot of deliveries today.” your mom smiles seeing the truck full of eggs and milks.

Baekhyun nods “Yes, business is doing good.”

“Oh about the guest, well he’s (y/n)’s future fiance. Hope you can meet him soon and be friends with him. He’s a nice guy, like you Baekhyunie.” your mother taps his nose like she used to when Baekhyun was nine.

Baekhyun’s smile falls when he hears “(y/n)’s future fiance.” what is this? Why has he never heard the news from you?

He has a lot to ask but his brother already honks the horn and Baekhyun comes back to his senses

“Come over for dinner or lunch next time Baekhyun!” your mother offers a polite invitation to the young lad and Baekhyun puts on his smile again as he bows “Thank you and I’ll see you soon mam.” he waves goodbye and jumps into the free seat next to his brother.

“Have a nice day you two!” your mother sends the Byun brothers off and descends to the kitchen with the fresh milk.

“Baekhyunie,” she sighs and hides a small smile “Always charming and sweetheart, some lady will be lucky to have him one day.”

--

Baekhyun’s brother hears everything, but he is not aware of the romantic feelings both you and Baekhyun share. He only knows the relationship between his brother and you is platonic.

“Look at (y/n), it’s like only yesterday their family moved in and both of you are so young. Running around carelessly, getting bruises from trying to climb trees, and woop she’s engaged now. When will you get a fiancee Baek?” his brother jokes around and wiggles his eyebrow to Baekhyun who only keeps his head on the road by the window

He sighs “I don’t know, why don't you get married first. You’re the brother here.” he scorns

You spend the day waiting for your neighbor’s head to pop up on the window but until lunch he’s not back yet. Your mother told you he’s away to the town and the neighboring town for the day but usually by afternoon they’re back. There’s nothing much for you to do since Sehun bid farewell and said he’ll return next week with the plans all ready and the wedding can happen soon. You don’t even have to buy a dress because your mother wants you to use hers, since its the tradition. You scoff in your mind, when do you ever have a chance to make a choice?

Even something as simple as what outfit to wear to meet someone, your mother won’t let you choose by yourself

Tea time makes you finally move your butt from sitting next to the window. His room window is still shut closed and the truck is still not home. Did something happen to them? Your worry disappears when the truck comes into your sight but you already got yourself dragged out of your room by your mom.

Baekhyun washes his body quickly and climbs up to his room after faking a smile to his parents. His brother is busy counting today’s revenue but Baekhyun opens his window and sits down only to stare at yours which was still open.

He can see your room, how the lights are on and he knows that means you were dragged out and you didn't have the chance to turn the lights off.

He sighs and closes his curtain, watching your empty room already makes it hard for him to breathe. What about the day when you will move into Sehun’s house?

Judging by his car yesterday, Baekhyun knows he is from the city and he is rich. Will Baekhyun be able to wake up in the morning knowing that the reason he wakes up everyday is now taken away from him? Not that he can actually say “taken away” since he never claims you as his.

You sit uncomfortably on your chair. Your father keeps on talking about this wedding. He doesn't even realize he’s indirectly saying “I am marrying you to Sehun just for the sake of my business so it won’t crumble down and you’ll live a good life after I die.”

Your ear burns with every single word your father rambles. Yes you grew up with his strict rules, you got hit several times but this… setting up your marriage and pressing on you to accept it as his last wish hurts the most.

“I don’t love Sehun.” you try to speak up your voice.

Your dad chuckles as he sips on his tea “I never said this marriage is based on love.”

You gulp and look at your mom with your red eyes. You’re ready to cry and scream here that you’re tired of your life being controlled but your mother shakes his head gently with a pleading look and you don't want to hurt her feelings so you keep your lips shut.

--

Life feels like hell after Sehun’s constant mail filled with questions of which flower you want, what color you want his tie to be and whatever useless question he asks (it’s useless because you don’t intend to bother thinking of which color or flower for a wedding you don’t want).

Since the day Sehun left, you’ve never met Baekhyun too and that is odd. Something about the way his window is always closed when you wake up, how he never pops his head randomly at the window, his constant busy days that you don’t hear any knock of pebbles on your window and the disappearing sunshine in your life.

Your wedding invitation is distributed already to everyone that’s within the inner circle and in your hand now lies one more invitation you can’t bring yourself to hand.

“Byun family” was written on the addressed invitation. You hold the invitation in your hand and almost drop it when your mother suddenly enters your room and questions you with “Whose invitation is that you’re still holding?”

You gulp “Baekhyun’s” your voice croaks and your mother nods.

“Why are you not giving it to them?” she sits down next to you and runs a hand on your hair.

“I haven't seen him and I want to give it to him.” you lie. Well to be honest, you’d rather have your mom deliver this to his mother but you need an excuse to meet Baekhyun and he’s been gone so you need to see him. At least see him before you are married to another man you barely know.

--

Early in the next morning, you wake up to the noise from the window. You open the blinds, looking to find the ruckus and that's when your eyes pop open. There you see Baekhyun jumping around the garden and his family are just smiling and patting his back. You saw a white envelope in his hand and you're trying to remember if he ever tells you about waiting any good news. No, Baekhyun never tells you anything. You open your window and pop your head out waiting for the happy man to notice you and maybe share the good news with you, but until he climbs into his room, he didn't spare you a glance and instead he's calling someone and you're sure that is Chanyeol.

You tried to eavesdrop but it's impossible despite the close distant, someone was using the blender downstairs. Annoyed, you toss some rock to his direction but it all doesn't hit him.

Now, you're mad. What made him ignore you, was it that carnival night incident? After that you never met him… so is that why he is still ignoring you?

You wave and try to get his attention, to which he completely didn't see. Alas, your mother calls you for breakfast and you have to go.

The sweet smell of waffles make you smile and lighten up your sour mood.

"What's the good news in Baekhyun's house?" You ask your mom when she looks like she knows something.

She smiles as she sips her tea "Oh didn't you hear? He was auditioning for a record company and well he sent his tape and he won the offer. The company wants him to move to the town this weekend and they will begin his contract and discuss his debut. Oh that Baekhyun!" Your mom wipes a tear that fell, as if he is her son and she is so damn proud.

Your father smiles "Good fella, he sure will make it big. I remember him singing in the town hall when he was eleven! Good vocal, good looks, easy personality. I think the company made a good decision."

Both your parents are so happy, but you… something inside your heart is furious. How come he never tells you about this, will he leave you? Leave you for a dream that might flop!

You hide your feelings during breakfast and after cleaning up, you sneak out to knock on Baekhyun's window.

The mischievous grin you memorize by heart appears in the window and he gladly opens it up so you can climb in.

"What makes you climb in my window?" He calmly asks. His stupid smile still there as if he didn't do any mistakes and he was surprised you are here.

You sigh "You lied."

He shrugs his shoulders "You lied first."

You scrunch your brow "What do you mean?!"

He sits down and you copy him "Well, you didn't tell me the truth that you are engaged."

You froze and he slaps your back "Guess my proposal last time wasn't good. Congratulations." He tried to joke it off but you are tearing up.

"Don't congratulate me. I don't know him and I don't love him."

Baekhyun sighs "It's father again isn't it?" He places a comforting arm around you and you bury your face in his chest. Crying your heart out and calming you down.

"I'm sorry honey, I couldn't propose wealth to your father and I couldn't even ask your hand for marriage with a diamond ring. I'm sure that lucky guy has so many to offer you." He rubs your hair but his words sting more and you punch him "I don't need that. I just want to be with you."

"Well, we can still be friends." He tries to hold his emotion back at the word friends.

"But I want you as my husband! I love you." You stare into his eyes and see his eyes smile "I just need to hear that. I also love you."

"And you are not telling me that you auditioned for that singing company!" You punch his chest again.

Baekhyun giggles "Sorry, I heard your mom said about the fiance and I was so sad and mad at myself for not claiming you first… so that made me send my audition tape because I thought that you're going to be his and it'll hurt me."

"So you're leaving me with that man. You run!" You let out a breather

Baekhyun bites his lips "Well, I have to chase my dream like you always said."

"My dream is to be a singer." Baekhyun stands up and shows you the acceptance letter.

You read it through the tears "This is so far away Baek."

"Well, but it's a step closer to singing in stage!" He stares at you with passionate energy in his eyes and you couldn't bring yourself to beg for him to just stay here and be your neighbor so you can at least wake up and see him and feel less bad.

"Now, I have to leave this Sunday. Do you want to spend the rest of the week with me?"

You nod and hide the invitation behind your back. No he shouldn't know that you're getting married. Let him think he is only your fiance that won't hurt him.

"It's Tuesday already, we have 5 days."

You wipe your tears and lock your eyes to the ecstatic boy.

"Later i will write songs about you! About our friendship and about our memories. I'll make money and I can get you that diamond ring and we can host a wedding you love! The simple one in a garden." He pretends he is walking down the aisle and you just want to disappear. No one should break his heart but if he must get his heart broken why must it be from you?

"So, (y/n) wait for me okay. Don't get feelings with this man."

You scoff, Baekhyun doesn't even know the man's name.

"And then one day I will return to you and we can live like our dream." He takes your hands into his and twirls you around the room. You laugh and giggle, feeling alive from the small action you missed.

He ends with hugging you and you wish so hard that life could change its path and you can be with Baekhyun.

"Congratulations Baekhyun!" You whisper

--

5 days. 5 days to Baekhyun's departure and 6 to your wedding.

Day 1, you rush your fitting and got to spend the afternoon walking to the rose garden near the forest.

Day 2, Baekhyun starts packing and you're using the chance to practice your wedding speech and your walk. The afternoon was spent together strolling around down town

Day 3, You had to pick the dress up and Baekhyun had to legalize some of his documents. You sneak to his rooftop that night, both of you just sitting and enjoying the starry nigh.

Day 4, You help him pack only for him to realize your body has bruises. He stops you from helping and folds your sleeves "What else did you do?"

You shake your head and unfold the sleeve trying to shake it off saying it's just a small problem but Baekhyun could see the fear in your eyes and he knows you're lying.

"Wait for me, I'll save you. I promise." He pulls you into a hug and for the first time, you press a deep kiss into his lips.

Day 5, You hand him the invitation and you're glad you kissed him last night because right now all you can see is your feet and how Baekhyun's hand trembles. His hair hides his eyes but from the way his lips shake and his body shakes, you know he is furious and disappointed at you.

"I am sorry." You whisper

"Why not sooner." He asks, his voice so bitter and dry. His eyes still avoid yours.

"I want to spend my time with you before you go."

"But why you keep this invitation until today?!" His voice cracked and you cried. This time, he doesn't console or calm you down. He lets you cry alone

He closes the invitation "You could've given me sooner and I won't be promising you all those dreams. Now I sound like the jerk who made promises to a girl who will be married in two days! Grow up (y/n)! If I knew this-"

You cut him off "If you knew this, you'd avoid me Baek! And I wouldn't want to waste my precious 5 days to be with you. Heck who knows if this might be the last time we see each other." You're furious too and Baekhyun shakes his head "What are you talking about. We're adults! I'll definitely accept the news like a mature man. I won't give you the silent treatment."

You scoff "You would. I know you Baekhyun."

"And if you know me… do you know that because you did this, i am now so i don't know… i'm " he pauses

"You hate me?" You ask that

He shakes his head and stomps his leg "I love you okay! But this is not right! I'll. You know what?" He couldn't speak right and couldn't think straight

"This will make my departure easier. You do know artists cannot date and I'll be busy. Well, now I won't have the reason to think about you and our dream. You're going to be with him forever and i? I will be the fool who didn't know you're already someone else's. Goodbye. And congrats."

"No Baekhyun. Please, sorry. I cannot do anything!"

"Yes I know. You're just too afraid of everything your father said. You can't fight for yourself and oh I'm tired okay! If you told me earlier, we could think of a way to stop this. But now it's too late! I'm leaving tomorrow and your wedding is ready! Don't make yourself an embarrassment by canceling the date. Go, live your silver spoon life. Goodbye (y/n) it was nice knowing you."

Baekhyun steps inside his house, closes the door and you're there staring at the floor, eyes still wet.

He's right . It's too late.

You force yourself to go home and well, you didn't even get to send him a proper goodbye.

--

Baekhyun just left like that, with a simple goodbye from the window and he’s gone. You are also preoccupied by the busy preparation for the big day tomorrow that you don’t have time to ask Baekhyun about his arrival or well updates.

While drowning in the sadness of losing Baekhyun, your best friend, your love, and your dream, you have no soul left when you have to recite the vows. The wedding bells deafen your ears, the smile from the guests blind your eyes and when Sehun kisses your lips, your tears fall because Baekhyun’s right everything is too late to be fixed.

You’re glad Sehun didn’t force you to sleep with him on the first night. He respects your decision and you sleep peacefully that night, mostly because you’re tired of thinking and the day is tiring.

Your morning wasn’t any difference than before, despite living in a house not far from home, you didn’t feel any difference. Well, Sehun is as stoic as your dad, his morning is filled with coffee, newspapers, and him checking his agenda.

“We will be busy this week, your dad wants to move the company ownership to us, you will follow me to the office. Go dress up smart and I’ll see you in the car an hour from now, is that enough?” he asks and you nod.

The maids here clean up the table as Sehun leaves to fetch his documents and working bag and you just hope Baekhyun will reply to any of your texts.

The paperwork takes your whole one week, office paperworks, house ownership, marriage legalization and well with your father’s health deteriorating it’s been hard for everyone to keep signing papers when father is in the hospital. Your father has already prepared his last wills and all beneficiaries.

You finally get news from Baekhyun’s mother saying that he already signed the contracts and the company loves him and wants to make a great debut for him. He’s preparing to write songs and he is arranged to debut in two years if he is good.

One month after being Oh Sehun’s wife, you begin to see a difference in your husband’s attitude. Yes he can be a caring man, his cold facade is slowly gone, but the sly look in his face is still there. You don’t know what but something in your guts say that this is just the calm before the storm. Your father’s condition gets worse and the hospital announces that he will probably have months left. You take turn with your mom in looking after dad. He’s in the bedroom lying down half alive, the machines keep his heart pumping and the oxygen tube in his nose forces oxygen into his lungs. You feel bad for him, despite all the pain you grew up with, your dad was a responsible person who never leaves you and your mom.

“I am sorry (y/n) for being a bad father. I hope you forgive me and I hope your future will be good.” he said that one afternoon when he saw you crying on his side. You were crying because you were telling him your heart about how he hurts you but he was trying his best for his family.

“I am sorry I cannot be your ideal daughter.” you hold his hand and he smiles weakly, “You’re all I would ask for. I love you and mom so much but I’m just so bad am I not? I hit you a lot.”

You cry harder, “It was because you care about me.”

He shakes his head “I shouldnt have been that hard. You’re a flower after all, we need to handle you with care”

“But you trained me to be a warrior dad. And whatever storm I will face one day, I will be thankful that you beat me as a kid so that I won’t just cry and accept fate if things go wrong.”

Your father lets another tear fall “I hope you don’t have to experience that time, but if you have to, I know I prepared you well.”

You hold into his hand tighter “I forgive you dad. Do you forgive me?”

He smiles “I never hate you love, I always forgive your mistakes every night before I sleep. I just have to punish you so you know that everything comes with consequences.”

You nod “I’ll remember that, how are you feeling dad?”

He coughs “Feeling like a sinner confessing his sins, but I’m glad I have time to tell you this.”

You kiss his hand and he takes a deep breath. “Be happy my flower, use the wealth for good stuff, and always help others. Remember that everything takes process.”

Your mom comes into the room and when the golden sun rays kiss your dad’s face, he glances to you and your mom. His sincere smile blooms and both you and your mom hold his hands, he takes one deep breath “My job here is done, I love you both.” he lets a big exhale and there goes your father. A great man who just can’t express his love in the best way.

Come to think of it, he is always coming home whenever he can. He tries to go home fast so he can eat dinner together. He only starts breakfast when all the chairs are filled. He taught you how to use a screwdriver, he taught you chess so you can beat your nosy friends. He helped you ride your bike. He’s the one who pays all of your living cost and not for once has he made you worried about what the family will eat for today. When life wasn’t as easy as this, he made sure you can still get a new dress on special days and he tries his best to bring you to the circus tour. Wealth came to your father when he was old and you were a young adult, and now he doesn’t have the time to enjoy it too much but he gave it all to you.

Baekhyun trained so hard day and night. His will and desire to be an artist beat all of his homesickness and exhaustion. He always appears in the training room with a big smile even though he has to go home half asleep. The company loves his attitude and promises a lot of good things for him. The boy just smiles, saying he’ll be happy as long as his dream of being an artist comes true. He heard about your dad’s death from his family and actually came home to join the funeral. He saw you but you were too sad to notice him and so he disappeared the next day. He noticed you moved back into your mother’s house because you don’t want her to feel alone. Sehun lets you do that, and because your mom insisted Sehun to also stay there, now the three of you live under the same roof.

Two years after your father’s death, Baekhyun has his debut. Well, it has to be delayed because the company saw that it’s going to be better to debut in Summer than in Fall. His hard work paid off when you finally see his name rising in charts and appearing in music shows. His hair is no longer boring, it’s painted silver white and you never think Baekhyun will look hot as an old man, but here you see him looking so handsome and lively as he finally gets to sing on a stage for thousands of audience. He was labeled as the successful rookie and he’s been offered a lot of advertisements and special appearances. You’re happy whenever you hear the town people talk about his name, or when the radio turns on his song. You missed him, you always text him but he rarely replies.

Everything seems going according to plan, but your guts were right. Those days were just the calm before the storm.

To be continued….

“(Y/n), come to the hospital now.”

“(Y/n) a package is here for you.”

[marmosa]

you mean it?

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: i saw this concept done by someone else and it finally kicked my writing brain into gear and i couldn’t not write my own take on it (love potion shenanigans). my requests are currently open because i’ve been at a lack of my own ideas, so feel free to drop a request or two, i’ll be writing up a few of them! in the mean time, i hope you’re all doing well and as always i hope you enjoy <3

*** 

“How do I know you didn’t mess with my drink?”

Fred and George exchanged knowing glances, both unwilling to let on that they did, in fact, tamper with her drink.

“Look, I’m not one to be selective when handed free butterbeer, however if anything I would like to not have my hair dyed against my will again, however cool it may look,” [y/n] sighed, holding her drink up to the light to try and see if there truly was anything suspicious she could note within its contents.

“Would you just trust us?” Fred pleaded, clasping his hands together and shaking them like a child trying not to get grounded.

“Do we look like we’d ever hurt you?” George added, smiling innocently.

“Yes, yes you would,” [y/n] deadpanned, “like when Fred dropped me 50 feet off your broom and nearly missed me when he tried to catch me, or when you gave me food poisoning because the potion you put in my lunch was faulty, or the time that you both nearly killed me with a miscalculated firework, or-,”

“Okay we get it!” The twins groaned, Fred reaching forward to press his hand flat over her mouth to get her to be quiet.

“Just trust us on this one, okay?” George begged, squeezing her shoulder as she eyed the butterbeer unsurely once more.

“Fine, bottoms up lads, hope I don’t end up in the infirmary!” [y/n] cheered half-heartedly, shaking the bottle before downing it like a shot.

“So?” Fred asked, nearly jumping in his spot as the twin both eyed her excitedly.

“So what?” she repeated, scrunching her nose at the weird aftertaste in her mouth, “it was just a-,” her voice trailed out as her eyes zeroed in on Fred, her mouth suddenly running dry.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing! See, Fred, I told you we needed to add less Borage and more Belladonna!” George cursed, shuffling through his book bag for his notebook he kept for notes on these certain instances.

As the twins got lost in their tweaking of the potion, it completely slipped past them that [y/n] was quite literally going through an internal awakening, her mind spinning as she took in the boy before her.

Why was Fred so suddenly at the forefront of her mind? His strong facial features, soft swooping locks, lean and athletic build, all of it was flooding her brain and she felt like she was going to explode. She felt as if she could count every single freckle on his face is she wanted to. Her eyes trailed down to the empty bottle in her hand and it quickly clicked before the potion flooded over her inhibition and stole her capacity to think clearly.

“You’re cute,” she blurt out, her eyes widening in shock before sinking down comfortably, her face relaxing into one of pure adoration, “like really cute.”

The twins halted their discussion and slowly turned to her, their eyes ready to nearly pop out of their heads. They exchanged surprised and then excited glances, George immediately getting to editing his notes.

“[y/n], how do you feel?” Fred questioned, eyeing her up and down as she beamed up at him with a newfound sort of confidence.

“I’m doing fine, darling, why do you ask?” she replied, pressing her fingers against her temples as a surge of sense surged through her, “wait, what- what’s going on?”

“Did the potion work?” George asked, leaning forward to squint into her eyes which she leaned backwards to avoid, her eyes never tearing away from Fred’s who stood there rigid as can be.

“George, I think it worked just fine,” Fred muttered, pulling his brother back by his shoulder, “dosage was a bit off, but it worked.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t mind, you have a lovely voice,” [y/n] lilted, tilting her head to the side as she took a step closer towards Fred.

“Oh shit, she-,”

“Saw me. Yup,” Fred finished George’s sentence, pulling his lips into a tight line.

“But it shouldn’t be a problem since you- OW!” George yelped when Fred pinched his arm, shaking his head in an unspoken “shut up”.

“Uh [y/n], I think we should take you up to your room, you look like you need a nap,” Fred chuckled uneasily, reaching forward but retracting his hand last minute when her eyes nearly popped out of her skull at the contact.

“But I don’t want to be away from you,” she pouted, sagging forward and slinging her arms around his neck, twirling the hairs at the nap of his neck around her pointer finger, “I’ll die without you Freddie.”

Fred chuckled and unwrapped her arms from his neck, pushing her back onto her own feet, “yeah, you most certainly need a nap. Let’s get you back to your dormitory and then we’ll talk about me leaving alright?”

“Sounds lovely,” she hummed, leaning into his side and hooking her arm with his.

“I’ll take care of taking her to keep down a fuss, you run and go see if you can make an antidote, though I hardly think we’ll need it since she keeps coming to on her own,” Fred explained, getting a curt nod from George who ran off to go fix something up.

“Did you know you have such pretty eyes?” [y/n] giggled, reaching forward and brushing his hair out of his face, “You’re even cuter when you blush too.”

Fred wanted nothing more than to go and swim to the very bottom of the black lake right then as he realized she’d picked up on the bright red hue dusting his cheeks, but he couldn’t leave her on her own, he knew that would cause a bigger fuss than any of them wanted.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, not used to being on the receiving end of such forward flirting, “lets get you to your dormitory.”

***

“But you can’t leave! Freddie, darling, please! I can’t be without you, I cannot!” [y/n] pleaded helplessly, clinging to his robes with balled fists.

“[y/n], you most certainly can be without me for a few moments,” Fred tried to sooth her distress, holding her up by her shoulders to keep her from sinking onto the floor.  

“I can’t! Freddie I’m in love with you, I simply cannot be apart from you, it’ll hurt too much,” she nearly cried, plopping down on the nearest bed, her eyes already watering over.

Fred chewed on the inside of his cheek, thoroughly embarrassed that he was partially responsible for putting her through this, “Look, hey, hey look at me, don’t cry please?”

She sniffled, looking up at him as he sat next to her, the comforter sinking down beneath them, “I can’t help but cry when you say you’re going to leave me!”

“I know, it’s hard, if I could take you with me, I would darling, trust me. But you know the dormitory rules, McGonagall would have my head on a stick,” Fred explained, reaching forward and brushing away the stray tear that rolled down her cheek.  

Her eyes widened a bit as she relished in the attention, her clouded mind basking in the sweet affection and reassurance he was giving her. She hummed quietly and leaned her head onto his shoulder, her head twinging as the effects of the potion wavered once more.

“Fred, where are we?”

“[y/n]! You’ve come back to?” Fred exclaimed, leaning back to observe her face scrunched in discomfort, confusion quickly overtaking him when her face laxed into bliss again.

“I’m- I’m fine now that you’re staying here with me,” she nodded, throwing herself over his lap, beaming up at him when he looked back at her all flustered, “you’re so pretty, did you know that?”

“I didn’t, no,” he chuckled awkwardly, tearing his gaze away from her love-sick eyes, his heart about ready to beat out of his chest.

“Well you are. You are oh so pretty, Freddie dear, a proper beauty if I ever did see one,” she sighed dreamily, walking her fingers up his chest to tap her finger gently at the tip of his nose.

He scrunched his nose at the feather light touch, pursing his lips disapprovingly when she giggled at his discomfort, “thank you, [y/n].”

“It’s my pleasure darling,” she chirped, fluttering her eyes shut, “I think you were right about me needing a nap.”

“I’m always right, [y/l/n],” he mused, leaning back on his arms to give her more room to get comfortable in his lap, “but if you’re tired you should get into bed, I don’t think you’d do well laying on my knees.”

“But they’re comfortable, I could lay here all day,” she hummed contentedly, folding her hands over her stomach, “I could spend all my time with you and never grow bored of your company.”

“You flatter me far too much,” He mumbled, glancing away again to try to hide the flaming red quickly overtaking his features.

“I don’t flatter you enough,” she replied simply, already starting to nod off, “but that’ll change. I love you so much, darling, I will flatter you for the rest of my days if it makes you happy.”

“That would indeed make me very happy,” Fred smiled softly, smoothing his hand over her cheek as she finally dozed off.

***

“Okay I think I’ve got something!”

Fred’s head snapped up from the book in his lap as George burst into the room, holding a small vile in his hand. Fred shushed him, nodding up from the floor to [y/n]’s sleeping figure behind him on the bed.

“Oh, sorry,” George whispered, “but I’ve got something fixed, I even got it doubled checked by a professor who promised not to tell.”

“Do you have a drink?” Fred asked, pushing himself off the floor to take the vile from his brother to inspect himself.

“No more butterbeer, unfortunately, but on my way here I nicked a small bottle of apple cider from the Hall, so that should do it,” George explained, pulling an almost shot glass out of his robes pocket.

“Brilliant, that should do it, I’ll wake her up,” Fred nodded, handing the potion back to his brother, and heading over to [y/n], “hey sleepy head, you gotta wake up.”

“Mmm,” [y/n] muttered, rolling over on her side as she opened her eyes soflty, “Freddie!”

He chuckled softly as she reached up towards him blindly, her eyes still shut as they readjusted to the sudden burst of light, her hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him down towards her.

“Hey, careful there, don’t wanna break me in two, do you,” Fred laughed, [y/n] releasing him with a soft gasp as her eyes snapped open once more.

“I don’t want to snap you in half, that would be dastardly, darling,” she explained, obviously distraught at the insinuation of injuring him.

“Well, since you’re up, George here’s did you the favor of getting you something to drink, it’s apple cider, I remember you saying that you really liked it,” Fred smiled warmly, taking the drink from George who stepped back, amused at the awkward situation they were put in but endeared at his brother being so uncharacteristically soft.

“Well if you say it’s my favorite, it probably is, you’re too sweet to lie to me Fred,”  [y/n] grinned, swirling the drink around in its bottle, “would you like some?”

“No thank you, I’ve just about had enough to drink today, I think it’d do better if you had it all,” He nodded, “Besides if I want some I can always go get my own.”

“Good point darling, thank you for the drink,” she mused before downing its contents whole.

It didn’t take long to see the potion take effect as her face scrunched into one of disgust before smoothing out into one of confusion, “that tasted like shit what the bloody hell was that- wait, what happened?”

Fred and George both let out a simultaneous breath of relief, momentarily cheering amongst themselves as [y/n] stared up at them with a quizzical look.

“Well I suppose you deserve an explanation,” George muttered sheepishly, taking the empty shot glass from her hand and tossing it in the nearest bin.

“That would be nice, yes,” she frowned, rubbing at her temples as her skull pulsed, the potion finally washing out all the previous effects of the other potion, “I don’t remember much except for drinking the butterbeer- what the hell did you guys put in it.”

“Promise not to get mad?” Fred bat his eyelashes innocently, tilting his head to the side with clasped hands to emphasize the effect.

“I think we’ve gone far past that, but I guess so,” she grumbled, shifting so she was laying down to accommodate her now twinging headache.

“We might’ve, possibly, on accident, give you love potion,” George laughed uneasily, trying his best to diffuse the tension, knowing he was failing miserably.

“Well who was I fancying? Who did I make a fool of myself in front of?” she asked from under the arm she’d slung over her face to block out the light.

Fred chuckled awkwardly, pulling the inside of his cheek between his teeth. [y/n] lifted her arm and looked at Fred with wide eyes, her mouth falling open as the gears in her head rolled to a conclusion. George rolled onto the balls of his feet, shuffling towards the door as Fred and [y/n] got lost in their own world, slipping out of the room as soon as he could.

“No,” She groaned, “No!”

Fred sunk into himself as he watched her roll over and curl up into a ball, almost like a frightened pill bug. He wanted to escape the room just as George had done, he wanted to pretend this had never happened, he wanted to run and hide in his room until this entire prank had blown over. What made it worse was he didn’t think he was going to have to hear her verbal rejection of true feelings for him so soon.

“It wasn’t that bad if that makes you feel any better,” Fred muttered, shuffling over and sitting at the foot of her bed.

“Wasn’t bad- tch,” she sat up and stared at him with demanding eyes, “what did I even say? Wait, don’t tell me, it’ll just make me feel worse.”

[y/n] fell backwards again and pressed her palms into her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. She didn’t want to look at Fred, not even wanting to face him right now, she made a mental note to strangle George later for slipping away when she was so plainly swallowed in shock and humiliation. It was unfathomable that she was so outwardly love-sick to a boy who most certainly didn’t see her as anything other than a friend, and now she had to hear his rejection up front.

“It really wasn’t anything bad. If anything, it was just really forward flirting,” Fred tried to sooth her, still feeling guilty for the turmoil she was facing.  

“But it probably made you so uncomfortable and you probably had to babysit me while you were uncomfortable and now I’m gonna be so awkward about everything and you probably hate me,” she confessed, wanting nothing more than to just shrink into herself and forget she was there.

“I truly didn’t mind it at all, I actually found it sort of endearing, actually,” He mumbled, looking away to avoid any and all eye-contact.

“You didn’t?” she replied, taken aback that he wasn’t as disgusted as she’d thought he’d be.

“Not at all. It was the first time someone so outwardly flirted with me and it was kind of nice coming from you. You said I had pretty eyes,” He chuckled to himself, still staring holes into the floor.

[y/n] was speechless. Of all the horribly embarrassing things she probably did and said, that was the one thing he chose to relay to her. She wasn’t sure how to proceed after that, not being able to tell if he was simply being nice and recalling a gentle interaction or if he was truly being honest about his feelings.

“What else did I say?” She asked quietly, sitting up and scooting over so she was sitting somewhat next to him.

“You said you loved me,” He smiled softly, “and you did this,” he imitated her earlier actions, walking his fingers up from her collarbones to tap her nose with his finger, smiling when she scrunched her nose just as he had done.

“I did, didn’t I? Well,” she shrugged, offering him a smile of her own, boldly reaching forward and tucking his hair behind his ear, “that was a proper rubbish potion then. It’s suppose to make you say things you don’t mean, isn’t it?”

Fred nearly collapsed in on himself, a blissful grin pulling its way onto his lips, “You love me?”

“You’d think that was clear by now,” [y/n] giggled.

“I just wanted to make sure before I did this.”

“Did what?” she quipped, looking at him quizzically.

“This,” he reached forward and cupped her cheek, pulling her face to his and connecting their lips.

As soon as the initial shock factor fell away [y/n] was giving her entire self into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in as close as she could in their awkward positioning. Fred didn’t hesitate either, pouring all the pent up feelings he’d been hiding throughout the day into the kiss. It was over as quick as it had started, the both of them pulling away with the sweet smiles.

“I’m thinking we should spike your drinks more often,” Fred suggested cheekily, biting back a laugh when her face fell into a glare.

“If you even think of doing that again, I will not only never kiss you again, I will never speak to you again,” she snapped, “what happened to the Fred that was so sweet a little while ago.”

“Hey! I’m still sweet!” Fred scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest and pouting like a child who’d just gotten their toy taken away from them.

“Don’t think so,” she shrugged, scooting away from him until she was resting against the headboard.

“Don’t think so? Oh I’ll show you just how sweet I can be, come here,” he grinned mischievously, crawling over and dragging her down by her hips.

“Hey, careful there!” she squealed, bracing herself on his shoulders.

“You wanted me to be sweet? Careful what you wish for love, you just might get it,” he teased, leaning down and capturing her lips once more. 

[everything-person]

Then Came You

A/N: This is my contribution to @cshistfic Historical Fic Event. This is my first time diving deep, just submerging myself into research to make sure I got my time period correct and I had a blast. Sometime I had too much fun and thankfully I had @spartanguard to push me off my high horse. Thank you @shireness-says for making this event and running it. Hopefully my entree is worthy enough. This fic is based in the 70’s and is inspired by Disney Pixar’s Cars. This may have up to 3 parts.

Summary: Rookie of the Year race car driver Killian Jones finds himself lost in a forgotten Storybrooke on his way to the finale race of the season. His world and perspective on what he wants gets turned upside down in the small town.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Where the fuck am I?

was Killian Jones, famous race car driver, first thought as he woke up. Well, first thought after he got over the throbbing pain in his skull. He sat up to see he was laying in a cot. Taking in his immediate surroundings, he realized he was behind bars. His head fell into his hands.

How did I get here?

He recalled being at Pocono in the Piston Cup series finale. He was named Rookie of the Year and was set up to be the first one to win. His only real competition was Ernest “the King'' Triton, Atlantica’s golden boy, who was planning on this being his last season, and Edward Teach, the King's tail biter. They weren’t expecting Killian to come out of nowhere and take the season by storm.

He was set to win it all, ahead by half a lap, checkered flag insight when a tire blew. He struggled but was able to keep control of his car. He could feel his competitors gaining on him as he lost speed. Such events caused a three-way tie, set to be settled in a week in Daytona.

He remembered the interviews asking about him driving without a crew chief; he always had an issue taking orders. The King came walking up to him.

“My man, you are one bad racer. You got more talent in that famous smile of yours than half these dudes got in their whole body but you’re stupid. Let me give you the lowdown: this ain’t a one-man show, young blood. You need to wise up, get yourself a good crew chief and a good team. You ain’t gonna win unless you got stellar people behind you doing their jobs so you can keep being the slammin’ driver you are.”

He thanked him for the advice before they were made to get on stage for the press. That's when Edward Teach decided to try to psyche him out.

“Listen space cadet, that was some fab drifting today. By me. He he he. First one at Daytona gets Atlantica all to themselves. Catch my drift?”

Then he went looking for his team, only to find out from Smee, his truck driver, that he had to make a personal appearance over at his sponsor's tent—Arendelle Chocolates, run by sisters Elsa and Anna Arendelle, most famous for the Apollo Bar.

“A taste that’s out of this world!”

He desperately wanted to get away from his sponsor. He didn’t care for sweets and frankly found most disgusting. He entered the tent to find the other reason he didn’t care for his current sponsor: children all running around with their grubby hands. The sight made him squirm, but Smee reminded him they gave him his big break and it was in his contract. With those inspiring words, he put on a smile, made his way to his sponsor sisters, said a few words that had the tent roaring in cheers before he said goodbye.

“Killian, that was stellar! We are so proud to call you our driver!”

“And we are looking forward to another fab year!”

“Don’t drive like my sister!”

“Yeah, don't drive like my sister!”

He and his crew got on the road not long after that. His crew were in the truck along with his car while he drove just behind them. While his crew pulled off to get some rest, he kept going to be the first at Daytona. But he kept nodding off and got lost.

He remembered pulling out his map to try and find out where he was. He tried to keep his car steady while trying to make out what his map said by moonlight, when he heard sirens. Looking up, he saw the lights of a town. Before he could think about pulling over the sirens were accompanied with sounds of loud popping. He assumed it was the officer firing at him. He tried to dodge the bullets but soon lost control of his car. He ran into quite a few things before gaining control again, only to get caught on something. He gunned it to get free, only to have his car spin out once he was. The last thing he remembered was something crashing into his driver side door effectively stopping his spin out and causing his head to slam into his window; then everything went black.

Groaning, he picked up his head taking another look around. He was on a cot, in a holding cell, in a dusty office. He was taking in the desks and filing cabinets, looking for signs of life, when he heard a voice.

“Well hi,” came an excited, high-pitched voice.

His head snapped back to one of the desks to see a boy he missed sitting just behind it.

“I was wondering when you were gonna wake up.”

Killians faced scrunched up, “What's going on? Why am I here?”

The boy laughed, “Like you don’t know. For being a spaz last night.”

“What's your name, lad?”

“Henry. What's your name?”

“You don’t know my name?” Killian asked, taken aback by the question.

“No; why should I know your name?”

“I’m Killian Jones.” He waited for the moptop boy to put the pieces together

“Killian Jones!” Henry shot up out of his seat as he exclaimed the name before falling back down. “Yeah, not ringing a bell.”

Killian furrowed his eyebrows, “Where am I?”

“Where are you? You’re in Storybrooke, the most rockin’ town on the Potomac River.”

Killian sighed, dropping his head, bringing his hand up rubbing at his forehead. “Great. Just great.”

“Well if you like this place, you should see the rest of the town.”

Killian picked up his head, looking at the brown-eyed boy and spied just behind him the keys to his cage. Focusing back on the boy, he smiled and stood up from his spot on the cot.

“You know, that's a brilliant idea. I’d love to see the rest of your town. If you just let me out of here, we could go cruisin’ the town.” Killian finished his thought as he came leaning against the bars.

“Golly! Really?” Henry sat up straighter with a bright smile that slowly turned into a smirk, “You think you can psyche me out. I’m ten, not stupid.”

“Henry!” a new voice shouted out.

In walked a man sporting a perm and mustache wearing a star at his hip.

“What have you been told about being in here with criminals?”

Henry sighed, “Not without supervision. But he was sleeping.”

The man crossed his arms, letting out a huff, “Well now he’s awake. Want to help me escort him to court?”

The next thing Killian knew, he was in chains and being placed in the back of a cop car. After a short ride, he was hauled out and guided into Town Hall where he was met with shouting and very angry townspeople. He was placed in a chair.

“Oi mate,” Killian looked up at the sheriff, “I gotta skitty. How long is this gonna take?”

The sheriff, Robin read his name tag, crossed his arms, “Do you have a lawyer?”

Killian scoffed, “Aye, but he's probably in Hawaii right now.”

“If the defendant doesn’t have representation, the court will assign one to him.” Robin turned to the crowd behind him bringing his fingers to his lips, letting out a shrieking whistle. “Anyone want to be his lawyer?”

The room went silent.

“I’ll do it,” a familiar voice broke the silence.

Killian turned to see the boy from before trotting up to the gate. Robin quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What? It's not hard.”

“Hmm, alright,” Robin agreed, letting the boy take the seat next to Killian.

Killian looked between the two before landing his gaze on the sheriff.

“Are you serious?”

“Well, our normal defense is at the vet after you clipped his dog last night,” Robin informed him before speaking to the room, “All rise! Honorable Judge Nolan presiding.”

Everyone stood as the sound of a door opening and closing was heard. Heavy footsteps rang out in the silence.

“I want to know who is responsible for wrecking my town. I want his ass on a silver platter. I’m gonna put him in jail until he rots. No, until the jail rots on top of him then I’ll put him in another jail and wait until that one rots. I—”

The man's rants came to a halt as he laid his eyes on the accused. “Get him out of here, sheriff. I want him out of my courtroom and out of my town. Case dismissed; charges dropped.”

Killian let out a breathy laugh, “Woah. You were a better lawyer than I thought, youngblood.”

“Sorry I’m late, Your Honor.”

Killian turned to see a stunning blonde woman come strutting in.

“Bloody hell,” Killian whispered under his breath. He thought the sheriff must’ve found his agent's number and gave him a call. This must be who they sent from his attorney’s office.

As she was walking by, Killian spoke up, “Hello, love. Thank you for coming but we are all set. He’s dropped the charges.”

She stopped and turned to him, her eyes darting to the boy next to him. “What?”

“Aye, we got off lucky. Now all we have to do is speed on down to Florida.”

“Please.”

“I get that a lot. I create feelings in people they themselves don't understand.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Right. Well I’m gonna go talk to the judge.”

“Whatever you gotta do, love. Do be careful though. These cats are a bit feral.”

She pursed her lips, nodding before turning her attention to the smiling child next to him, “Hi, Henry.”

“Hello.”

Killian looked at the boy before looking back at the blonde, who had turned to the crowd behind him.

“Morning everyone,” she called out, receiving greetings in response. She turned, eyeing Killian as she did, before she walked up to the judges stand who was intensely looking at his papers.

“David, you're looking well. Your sideburns are—”

“Forget it, Emma. I already dismissed the case,” he said, not looking up at her.

“He endangered most of the town and destroyed half of it. You can’t just let him go.”

“We are better off with him gone.”

Emma huffed, “Alright; you asked for it.”

Emma turned and addressed the room, “I move for an appeal. Robin, if you will help me escort the accused to the Mayor.”

Robin assisted Killian out of the chair. They followed the woman down the hall and up the stairs. Killian would protest but the walk was giving him a great view of the blonde’s ass.

As they came to a door labeled Mayor, Robin leaned over and whispered to Killian, “May the mayor have mercy on your soul.”

Before Killian could question or even look at the man he was being ushered into a black and white room.

“Ms. Swan, why are you barging into my office?” A woman sitting behind the desk in the middle of the office asked, not bothering to look up at the intruders.

“Judge Nolan ruled to dismiss the charges against our drunk driver—”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Killian interrupted.

“And I moved for an appeal. I thought the sooner the better,” Emma continued.

The woman finally looked up to see Emma standing in front of her desk before her eyes darted to Sheriff Robin, and Judge Nolan standing just behind her with Killian standing in between them.

“What are the charges?”

“Reckless driving, reckless endangerment, trespassing, vandalism, and destruction of property.”

“Why did you dismiss the case?” The woman directed the question to Judge Nolan.

He stepped forward standing next to Emma. “Madame Mayor, what happened last night was a terrible occurrence but I believe the longer this man stays, the more trouble will come.”

“Based on what?”

“I know the kind of man he is. I can see it in his eyes. He’s the last thing this town needs.”

“We let this guy walk, it sends a message to every delinquent in town that you can do whatever you want. The town needs to be fixed—they need this,” Emma stated.

“I think the sheriff's station’s reputation will precede this incident. We are fine without him,” Judge Nolan responds.

The mayor turned to Emma. “What do you suggest the sentence should be if I agree to your appeal?”

“Make an example of him. Give him community service, make him fix everything he can that he broke. Whatever he can’t, fine him for; by the looks of his clothes, he can afford it.”

The mayor sat back looking between the man and woman in front of her.

“Sheriff,” she called, “What say you? Should I let this man go to avoid further disturbance, or have him fix the town?”

“Well, I think the town needs renovation more than it needs to avoid trouble. In fact, I think we could benefit from some,” Robin eloquently answered.

The mayor nodded, standing from her seat, “I’m inclined to agree. The accused is sentenced to community service until everything that was damaged from last night's events is fixed and a fine of six hundred dollars for reckless driving and endangerment.”

Killian’s eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. He went from walking away scot-free to becoming this town’s new handyman along with being fined six hundred dollars.

The mayor took her seat once again stating, “You are all dismissed.”

Emma turned around with a satisfied smile plastered on her face. “Looks like Florida is gonna have to wait.”

[kuroos-moon]

We All Have Bad Days

- in which they feel down, ft. how they act around you 

pairings: Suna x reader, Akaashi x reader, Tendou x reader

warning/s: mild angst 

wc: 2.4 k overall

Suna 

he’s not really that open towards you— not that it’s intentional 

he just doesn’t see the need to communicate certain things

other than that, he doesn’t even admit to himself that he’s not okay 

you could easily tell, but he’ll brush you off every time you show concern 

he’s okay, stop worrying. stop looking at him like he’s fragile. 

“Rin, you could talk to me about anything you know?” 

he was just resting his head on your shoulder in peace

so why in the world do you have to complicate things 

he’s annoyed, you always try to comfort him, he doesn’t need it

“What are you so worried about?” He glares quite coldly, leaning away to look at you. “I said I’m fine, you act like you know me better than I do myself,” he casually says as if those weren’t hurtful words. 

“I’m not forcing you to open up to me, I just want you to know I’m here for you,” you say with teary eyes as he gets up from his seat beside you. “I’ll head to practice, see you later,” he says in a dull voice, not looking back at you as he leaves. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He sat on the empty locker room’s cold floor, practice was long over but he just didn’t want to get up yet. He’s tired, he feels so drained and maybe it wasn’t because of practice, maybe he really isn’t okay— just like you said. 

The image of you pops in his mind; particularly the moment earlier before practice, you were clearly hurt by what he said— he knew that. Regret washes over him as he leans his head against the locker behind him, you were right, he wasn’t fine.

He doesn’t know how you managed to see past his facade, but you did, he should be grateful— a normal boyfriend would be— yet he pushed you away when you only wanted to console him. I’ll apologize tomorrow, he thinks to himself, but yet again he felt conflicted because he also wanted to see you now. 

“Are you gonna stay in here all night?” He looks up at the sound of your voice. “Y/n,” he says, surprised at your sudden intrusion. 

“I was waiting for you outside but you were taking too long,” you smile, squatting down on the floor beside him. “I didn’t know,” he whispers. 

Heat flushes your cheeks when you feel a warm jacket getting draped over your shoulders so suddenly, “you were cold, right?” He asks, looking at your flustered expression for a while before he looks away. “Thanks.” He only nods in response. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, your shoulders touching. “You just want me to know you’re here huh,” he whispers to himself, quoting your words from earlier. 

“What?” You ask, not having heard him well. He shakes his head, getting up from the floor before he holds out his hand for you. “You’re ready to go home?” You ask, taking his hand as you lift yourself up. 

He gently spins you around so your back was to him, his hands on either side of your waist. “Rin?” For the second time that night, you blush tremendously. He had wrapped you in his arms in a tight embrace, your back against his chest. 

He rests his chin on your shoulder, letting out a breath as you both relax against each other’s closeness. “I’m not good at telling others how I feel,” he whispers. “I’m not used to having someone worry about me either,” he plants a soft kiss of appreciation on your neck. 

“It’s okay Rin.” 

“You’re so warm,” he sighs, snuggling against you. “Cheer me up like this often.”

“Let me go,” you tug at his arms, “I wanna hug you too you know,” you huff.

“No,” you feel him slightly smile against your skin.

You forcibly turn to face him, his arms still around your waist as he looks at you questioningly. “You can be sad in front of me you know,” you tell him and his eyes slightly widen at your words. 

“I can’t.” He deadpans, and you were left speechless, feeling as if he was too far away from you, maybe he’ll never open up. 

He shifts his focus to the maroon Inarizaki jacket wrapped around you, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall off. To your surprise, he gently pulls you by the jacket’s collar as he meets your lips with his. The kiss was sweet but short, he hoped to have expressed at least a fraction of what he felt for you.

“I can’t be sad in front of you, you make me not sad,” he mutters, slightly embarrassed to have said such a cheesy thing so he looks away with a small frown.

“Aren’t you sweet,” you tease, to which he rolls his eyes to in response. His hand glides down from your arm and to your hand, intertwining your fingers together before you both make your way to the door.

You yelp when he harshly kicks it open, followed by a series of groans as the Miya twins found themselves landed on the ground. “Rin!” you scold, slapping his arm lightly but he merely gives your hand a squeeze in apology before tugging you along with him.

“Lame eavesdroppers,” he mutters under his breath.

“Wow, an apology would be nice!” Atsumu huffs, glaring at the back of Suna’s head as the both of you walked away. 

“Wanna eat something first before I take you home?” He asks you with a small smile, looking down at you lovingly, and completely disregarding the curses the twins threw at him. 

Akaashi

first instinct is to rely on himself alone

he knows he could talk to you about anything but he doesn’t want to be a burden, even though he’s totally not 

is very good at pretending that everything’s alright 

you can hardly figure it out yourself if he doesn’t tell you 

but, he has a tell 

his hugs would be longer, he would be more silent than usual, and he would be so deep in thought you’d have to call his name twice 

“I’ll be back by dinner,” he says to your ear. You were sitting down on the couch, laptop on your lap while Keiji leant down to kiss your cheek. 

“What shall I cook?” You ask, looking up at him with a small smile. He looked and acted per usual, he seemed fine, but what gave it away was how he clung to you differently last night; it was more desperate as if he tried to console his own aches by having you as close to him as possible. 

The raven-haired lad looks back at you in surprise, hand stopping mid-way from the doorknob. “You will cook?” He raises a brow. 

“Have a little faith in me Keiji,” you pout at him before he gives you a small smile, putting his hand down before turning and making his way in front of you. “What do you wanna have for dinner? I’ll cook it when I get home,” he says, ruffling your hair a bit.

“I said I wanna cook for you,” you grab his hand. Let me do something for you, Keiji. 

“Why? Well if you say so I guess pasta would be nice,” he shrugs at you. “It’s not your favorite food, it’s mine,” you grimace, staring at his back as he makes his way back to the door; why is he all give with no take? 

“Don’t burn our house down love,” he calls off with light amusement in his voice before closing the door behind him. He proceeds to walk towards school, heart heavy in his chest though he can’t help but put on a small smile. 

You were too adorable, offering to cook dinner for him even though he knew you couldn’t cook to save your own life. You were just so naturally caring, by the slightest look, touch, or mention of his name, you gave him utter solace. 

That was enough, right? He didn’t have to tell you what was bothering him, everything will be okay eventually. You had your own struggles, why should he have you worry about him? 

“Ugh we have tons of homework today,” similar complaints and groans could be heard as he walked out of the lecture room, in a hurry to come home to you. “But dude, we’re lucky we aren’t from the other class, they have thrice the amount of work.”

Right. You had tons of schoolwork and deadlines, you shouldn’t waste time cooking dinner for him. 

Before he even opens the door to your house he could already hear your kitchen struggle. He should have refused your offer, what a burden I must be, he thought. “Y/n?” He immediately calls out for you as he sets foot in your home. 

“Over here, ah,” you yelp, probably having touched something hot by accident. He rushes over to the kitchen, a frown plastered in his face as he took in the sight of you tightly gripping your hand, the messy pans and plates on the side from your failed attempts, and the slight tears that rolled down your cheeks at the pain from your mild burn. 

He calmly guides your hand to the sink without saying a word, cursing himself for allowing you to make dinner for him. Your hand was placed under the running water as he scans his eyes on you to check if you were hurt elsewhere. “Hey, does it hurt that bad?” He asks you with worry as he saw you cry, his hands immediately planted on either side of your face to have you look at him. 

You shake your head at him, and he merely sighs as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been the one to cook, don’t cry,” he coos, his face crumpling up in guilt and concern as a chain of self-blaming thoughts mess with his mind. 

“Keiji, I’m not crying because of that,” you sniffle, taking his hands away from your face before pulling him in a tight embrace, your hand at the back of his head. “Y/n what’s wrong?” He asks in a small voice as he wraps his arms around your waist as tight. 

“I wanted to do something for you, to make you feel better because you’re not telling me what’s wrong.” He freezes at your words, “but now it’s a mess and you’re comforting me instead,” you sniffle again before he resumes on gently rubbing your back. 

“Can I take you to the bedroom?” He asks you, before letting out a small chuckle at your confused reaction. “Not for that, silly,” he shakes his head, lifting you up by your waist as you wrap your legs around him.

He gently lays you down on top of the bed before he lies down on top of you as well, letting out a long exhale. “Keiji, what’s wrong?” You ask him, running your hand through his hair as he buries his face at the crook of your neck. “Nothing y/n, I’m fine,” he snuggles closer to you. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you, you were just so busy and I didn’t want to burden you with me,” he admits. “Keiji, you’re never a burden, I love you a lot, you know that; and you also know how I’d love for you to share your troubles with me instead of carrying them all alone,” you softly tell him. 

“I know,” he sighs. “I guess I forgot, but you still comforted me in ways you didn’t know y/n,” he pulls away to look at you. “You simply exist beside me and I forget I’m sad in the first place,” his lips lightly brushing against yours as he spoke. 

You only give him a small smile, staring back at his eyes before meeting his lips with yours. “C’mon, help me cook,” he offers you a rare grin as starts to lift himself up. 

“I think it’d be better if I didn’t,” you frown and he ruffles your hair again; a habit he developed when he found you too cute to bear. “I know, just hug me as I do the work.” 

Tendou

tries to act too happy when he’s down in the dumps

he goes overly cheerful and jokes around more often

it’s impossible to figure out whether he’s just extremely overjoyed or if he’s sad, he’ll act all the same

because once he’s down, he secretly feels like he’s losing a grip on everything and everyone he cares about

the matter may be unrelated but his past insecurities resurface so easily 

that’s exactly why he unconsciously tries to be around you at all times, because he needs to reassure himself that your love won’t fade

“Y/n-chaan~!” He calls enthusiastically, dodging his way through the crowd of students as he makes his way over to you. “I don’t have practice, let’s go on a date,” he smiles, leaning on the locker beside you as you tidied up yours.

“Satori kiss my cheek first before asking me out,” you grin as you spare him a side glance, his eyes lighting up at your words just as you intended. He happily does as you say, overdoing it in fact as he kisses you repeatedly. 

“Satorii,” you whine, shoving at his chest lightly. “Soo, where shall I take my y/n today?” He smiles, looking at you expectantly after you close your locker door to look back at him. 

“You’re overdoing our dates, don’t you think? We’ve went out for four times this week, you also don’t let me pay for us,” you pinch his cheek, but guilt bubbles within you immediately as he looks at you in dismay. “How about we eat ice cream and go to the park instead? That’s still a date,” you offer, holding his hand. 

“Chocolate for you?” He asks, his eyes brimming with excitement all over again and you nod at him, a small smile on your lips. You didn’t need to say anything more as you both make your way out of school with his arm slung around your shoulder, Tendou happily singing random songs and stopping for you to continue. 

“How much do you love me y/n?” He casually asks out of the blue, and you immediately plant your feet on the ground to stop the swaying of your swing. “Tori, what do you mean?” You ask, you know him well; the way he acted these past few days were different from usual but you just couldn’t tell if he was actually happy or secretly sad.            

“What do you think it means?” He shrugs, mirroring your actions as he too stops the swing’s momentum. He looks at you in confusion, why can’t you just answer him right away? Are you perhaps hesitant and unsure about him? 

But you were actually silent because you were trying to figure him out; whether or not there was a certain depth to his question. “How much do you love me?” He asks again, still not looking away from you. “A lot,” you decide to say, “I love you more than you know Satori.” 

He purses his lips and squints his eyes at you before getting up from his swing. Crouching down in front of you, he asks, “to what extent will you continue to love me?” You simply sit there, staring down to look back at your boyfriend. 

“I don’t think I quite get your question Tori,” you offer him a sad smile, cupping his cheek with your hand. He hums to himself as he leans in to your touch, “what if you love me now, then get to know me more in the future— finding out certain traits or things about me that you can’t accept or learn to love, will you stop loving me then?” He murmurs, a small sad smile on his lips. 

You knew right then and there that his insecurities must have been keeping him up at night again, and you feel your heart clench at the thought. He can’t help but feel this way sometimes, you understood that, it was a product of being rejected by others so often when he was young. 

“Satori, I love you now, I’ll love you more tomorrow, and the days after that,” you caress his cheek and his eyes widen and he falls speechless. He could feel his breath hitch and his chest hurt, the good kind of hurt. You chased away his doubts, his worries, all you left him was the feeling of being loved. 

Just by your words. He nods, getting up before holding out his hand. “Let’s go home,” he says. The two of you walk down the sidewalk, Tendou happily singing his songs, he doesn’t even bother to stop between certain lines as you now sang along with him. 

You may not know it completely and he may not have told you, but you just made him feel a whole lot better. 

[yourlmanburg]

movie night // karlnapity x gn!reader

(hi! this is my first post on tumblr and i’m still learning how to use it haha, requests in my askbox would be highly appreciated please i will literally love u so much <3)

word count: 1,565

summary: you and your boys took the night off from streaming to spend some time together

request?: nope, but my requests are open!

---

“Is there anything else y’all want?” Nick asked from the bar stool he was seated on, scribbling down a quick shopping list. Both Karl and Alex shook their heads, Nick just about ready to head off before you piped up from the sofa in your open plan apartment, a sly yet lighthearted smirk present on your lips.

“Yeah, actually. Popcorn, crisps, sweets, and just any snacks you can find, really. Also, make sure you guys cancel your streams tonight - we don’t have any lore planned, do we?” you looked at each of your boyfriends who you met through the Dream SMP, and they returned your gaze with very confused expressions. Even so they shook their heads again to provide an answer to your question. 

“I mean, I was gonna hop on the server with Will for a bit, but I can leave that until tomorrow if you’d like?” Alex asked, obviously curious as to what his partner had in mind. You were quick to assure him that your little idea could wait for a day the four of you were free, though you weren’t completely convinced that it would even happen at all if that were to be the case; you’re all very busy people.

“If it’s something important to you, baby, then I’m sure we can work something out,” Karl said with a soft smile, both Nick and Alex humming in agreement. “Although, dare I ask why you want us to cancel our streams?” he asked sheepishly. You considered keeping it from them, but gave in to the anxiety-inducing question of whether it was really important enough or if you were just being clingy.

“Well, I just thought, maybe, we could, you know,” you stammered, worrying the three a little bit. They exchanged glances, wondering if they’d perhaps done something wrong. “We haven’t really spent much time together recently, and I thought we could maybe have a movie night or something? I’m sorry, I know I should’ve planned this out properly with your guys’ input, it was just a last minute thought. We really don’t have to do it, Alex I know you said you had streaming plans and that was before I mentioned any of this and-”

“Babe,” Alex cut off your rambling before it spiralled into something more, as it often did, chuckling slightly and walking over to you with his arms out wide. You let him wrap them around you and you reciprocated the action, close to tears at this point due to the whirlwind of anxiety racing around your mind over something that warmed your boyfriends’ hearts, instead of annoying them and getting in their way as you’d predicted. “I’m sure we can miss out on a day of streaming to spend some time with each other, right? We have been pretty busy, like you said.” He smiled, looking deep into your eyes before leaning in for a sweet kiss.

Nick cleared his throat upon seeing you trade kisses without him, not even bothering to cover up his laughter. Of course, you sarcastically apologised and gave each him and Karl their own kisses too, Alex doing the same.

“So, is this everything we need?” Nick checked one more time before heading out the door, leaving once you’d looked over the list and didn’t see anything missing.

“Alright then lads!” you turned to Alex and Karl once the door closed, a large grin gracing your face. “Go and grab all the pillows, cushions, blankets, plushies - go and grab every comfy thing we own! If we’re gonna do this, we’re doing it properly, Okay?” they both instantly scrambled to the king sized bed and pretty much stripped it, while you crouched in front of the cupboard that the relatively large TV stood atop. Your eyes skimmed over the many movies you owned, the innocent Disney ones mixed in with the more gruesome and gory horrors like Saw and The Shining.

After a good few minutes of sorting through the discs and picking out a variety of movies to suit everybody’s tastes, stopping at some point to cheer Alex on in a wrestling match on the sofa against Karl, you’d finally found about six hours worth of top quality films. You looked up at the clock on the wall and it had just gone four pm, meaning that if you settled down by five at the latest then you’d be done by about eleven, making it the perfect time to head straight to bed so nobody would be overly tired in the morning. But there was no use worrying about that, this was supposed to reduce stress, and worrying about time was the opposite.

You’d sneakily chosen a couple of very scary horror movies, knowing that Karl wasn’t the biggest fan of them and it’d be an easy way to get lots of cuddles out of him; he didn’t hate them, but they weren’t exactly his cup of tea, either. You stood up and helped him and Alex set the blankets and cushions up on the sofa, collapsing onto them once you were done. 

While leaning your head on Alex’s shoulder, he snaked his arm around you and absentmindedly grazed his fingers up and down your arm. You closed your eyes and you must’ve fallen into a light sleep as you were a little dazed when you opened your eyes to see Nick gently shaking you, not remembering him getting back. Alex was in the kitchen with Karl and you could hear them trying to figure out how to pop the popcorn, even when you knew there were clear instructions on the box.

“Hey, love.” Nick greeted you warmly with an even warmer kiss, planting himself beside you and wrapping an arm around you, much like Alex had not even half an hour ago. You leaned into his side and closed your eyes again, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“I love you.” you murmured softly, feeling Nick press a kiss to your temple and muttering a small “I love you too.” 

“If you’re tired, we can always do this tomorrow, honey.” he said, causing you to sit up and jokingly look at him with a shocked face.

“After all the hard work and planning that’s gone into this? I shall not wait!” you yelled dramatically, the both of you laughing at your antics. While he pulled out his phone to scroll through Twitter and alert his fans that there would be no stream today, you stood up to check on the other two. It took them a good few minutes to realise you were watching them, positioned against the counter with a fond smile on your face. It was moments like these that really made you consider how damn lucky you were to call these three yours; sure they were dumb idiots, but they were your dumb idiots, and there was nothing that could change that.

They had just about managed to microwave the popcorn kernels without exploding the whole apartment or something stupid, and were beginning to pour all the snacks into bowls. You helped by taking the full bowls and placing them on the table between the sofa and the TV, sneaking a few bites here and there. Once you were all ready and cuddled up, you on Nick’s left, Karl on your other side and Alex beside Karl, the first movie was finally starting up.

You’d gone easy with this one, choosing Tangled, a very well-known classic. If you knew them, you sang along to the songs no matter how in tune you were or not, and if you didn’t then you simply sat back and enjoyed them. The movie ended and you realised you’d have to stand up again to start up the next one in the pile, when Karl offered to do it for you. Before you could even do so much as protest, he stood up and walked over to the DVD player, looking back at you with a horrified face as he saw what was next: The Silence of the Lambs.

“I hate you so much, Y/n.” He said with a loving smile, knowing you well enough now to see right through you. “If you wanted cuddles, you could’ve just asked!” You chuckled as he put the second movie on, returning to your side and resting his head on your chest. The four of you happily munched on the snacks that were almost gone by now, holding each other close if you got scared.

That movie finished, and then the next, and then the next. By this point you were shoved against Alex, Karl lying over the two of you and Nick. It was about half past eleven and you were all clearly tired, so you decided to call it a day and head to bed. You did your usual nightly routine, whatever it consists of, and collapsed into bed, shortly joined by Karl, then Nick, and finally Alex. As usual, you were sandwiched in between Nick and Karl, and you held onto the former tightly.

“Thank you so much for tonight, guys, I really missed you.” you admitted halfway through a yawn, seconds away from passing out.

“I missed you guys too, I really did.” Karl agreed, and so did the other two. You drifted off in a happy silence, glad to have spent the evening with the three men you loved so dearly.