#the only thing I’ve actually screamed out loud reading

[ellecdc]

oh wooow…. I just found your chef!sirius and I think you unlocked a new favorite au for me! I’ve always been more of a james girlie but your sirius, especially your chef!sirius has me feeling all types of ways. do you have anything more for him and reader planned? I’d love to read more about them and their dynamic he’s been so sweet on her at a&e and the lip biting thing has made me think of plenty of unholy things they could do.

so excited to read more of them! or reread chef!sirius if you don’t plan on adding more. 🤍🤍🤍

I love them, your honour. Also, omg it's happening!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for your sweet words, babes <3

chef!Sirius x mixologist!reader who have their first date [2.5k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

CW: reader is anxious as fuck about the date, we actually don't talk about Jeffery even once in this so sorry to all our Jeffery Stans (or haters) out there xoxoxo

A date.

An actual date.

And if it went well; your first date.

God did you hope it went well.

You’d been rightfully wary about the prospect of dating a coworker but you had to admit it was growing increasingly difficult (and extremely tiresome) pretending you weren’t completely gone for the cantankerous chef who seemed to only soften for you. 

Thankfully it seemed he was just as gone for you, which at least meant it would only be slightly awkward if it didn’t go well and not see you dying from embarrassment. 

What you hadn’t been prepared for, however, was how difficult taking a noteworthy chef out for a dinner date would turn out to be. 

Every restaurant you had suggested (though Sirius had insisted he would go anywhere with you) was either owned by someone he knew and was in direct competition with, someone he knew and didn’t like, or someone he knew and felt their food was no good. 

So you had made - what you were sure was a brilliant idea at the time - the horrible suggestion of just having him over to your flat for dinner. 

Great.

Terrible. 

Because now you were responsible for preparing a meal for that same noteworthy chef who got paid to spend day after day shouting at his kitchen staff for their “sad excuses for artistic plating” and “terrible passes at edible food”. 

Stupid, stupid girl. 

You warily eyed the sauce you had set aside for your tomato basil pasta as you stirred the store bought pasta on the stove.

What were you thinking!? Two of the seven ingredients (not including the bloody pasta) was in the sodding title. 

You were going to simply throw up. 

But the sound of an assured knock on the door felt like a buzzer ringing loud and obnoxiously at the end of a game - you were officially out of time.

Or were you?

Could you cancel? Tell him you were feeling poorly?

The fact that he had showed up at your sodding house with various essentials a mere few weeks ago told you no, you couldn’t cancel.

You smoothed out your shirt with shaky hands as you moved towards your front door. 

You saw this man almost everyday; you worked with him, and when you weren’t working with him, you were often commuting home with him or finding some other excuse to be in each other’s company.

So why were you nervous?

You opened the door to expose him; standing tall in all his fair skin, tattooed, storm-cloud eyes, inky-black hair artfully tied back in a way that screamed “I hardly tried” that you could never accomplish no matter how hard you tried glory.

Oh right.

That’s why you were nervous. 

“Hey there.” He greeted you softly; eyes roving over your form in much the same way yours had just done as you clocked in on the bouquet of flowers hanging casually in his hand. 

You had to wipe your now clammy hands off on your shirt again. 

“Hey.” You said belatedly, earning you a smirk from your date. “Erm, sorry, come in.” You chuckled awkwardly as you moved out of his way and granted him access to your flat. 

“Smells great!” He offered earnestly, pausing to turn to you and gesture to the flowers. “Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?”

“I can take those!” You began, reaching forward only to have him move them up and out of your reach with a smile on his face.

“Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?” He repeated softly, taking the hand you had been reaching for the bouquet with in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

Your brain worked overtime to keep your knees from buckling and directing him to the third cupboard from the left. 

He looked jarringly at home in your kitchen; shucking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of a stool before grabbing a vase from the appropriate cupboard and beginning a search through your drawers for a pair of scissors.

You had to remind yourself that he was a chef and it was his job to look at home in a kitchen; that was his domain.

You realised then that he had been speaking to you. 

“I’m so sorry, what was that?”

“I was only saying that I looked it up and made sure that these were safe for cats.” He said simply as he fluffed the bouquet in its new home and moved it to the centre of the counter with a satisfied smile. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Sirius.” You cooed somewhat embarrassingly. “I would have fought Birdie over them even if they weren’t.” 

Sirius let out one of his notorious barks of laughter (that half the staff insisted you were making up) that immediately left you feeling more at ease. 

“Well, no fighting required.” He said as he moved towards you, widening his stance so that he was closer to your height and wrapping his arms around your middle. “Thank you for having me.”

“Thank you for coming.” You smiled back; officially lost in the overwhelming beauty of this adonis who willingly accepted spending one of his precious evenings off with you. 

“I think your pasta might be done.” He whispered then, causing you to startle slightly and scramble from his grasp towards the stove.

“Anything I can do to help?” He asked as he followed you over.

“No!” You shouted at first, immediately embarrassed as you opted to pretend the heat of your face was a product of the steam from the pasta. “No, just, erm, go sit down.”

He backed out of your kitchen with a flirty smile on his lips as he accepted your direction.

Now you could understand why he was always yelling at people in his kitchen. 

You were astounded that you didn’t simply melt into goo under his steady gaze as you worked, but you were finally bringing the finished pasta to the table and sitting across from him.

“I apologise in advance; I’m not the cook you are.” You offered as you handed him the spoon to serve himself first. 

He gave you an odd look as he reached over and filled your plate first before his own. “No sorry needed, doll. When someone feeds me, I say thank you.”

You let out a breathy laugh as you picked up your fork. “Oh!” You nearly shouted, kneeing the table in your haste to stand causing you to have to catch a cup before it toppled. “Buggering fuck, sorry.” You apologised quickly, thanking every god known to mankind that you didn’t dump his plate or glass onto him. “Sorry, I forgot the asiago.” 

You opened the fridge and shoved your head into it feigning a search for the cheese when you really needed to cool down and take some steadying breaths.

You were fine, this was fine. 

Just fine.

Except that you had a stupid sexy tattooed chef sitting at your dining room table waiting for you to bring him the sodding asiago. 

You closed the fridge with a little too much force and heard some errant condiment tip over in the shelves behind you; you’d deal with that later. 

“This smells really good, doll.” He offered again, spreading the forsaken cheese over his pasta before loading a fork full and bringing it to his lips. 

You held your breath as you watched him chew; his brows furrowed before he nodded and let out an appreciative hum.

 “Very good; nicely done, gorgeous.” 

You smiled shyly at the praise and took your own bite.

It was good.

But surely it could be better? 

Should you have put more garlic in? The five cloves were already 3-4 more than the family recipe called for. And was there enough salt?

You definitely overcooked the pasta. 

The store bought pasta.

Fuck. 

“Hey.”

You looked up from your spiralling to see Sirius watching you cautiously. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing! Sorry.” You chuckled and began picking at your food. “Sorry, how was your day?”

He narrowed his eyes at you as he weighed whether or not he was going to let you brush past his question.

Apparently, you looking nervously down at his fork solidified his decision.

“That’s it.” He said as he put his fork down. “Come’ere.”

And before you could protest, he had one of the legs of your chair in his hand and was pulling you over to him. “What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” He asked as he brushed a lock of your hair away from your eyes.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” You offered more confidently. 

Sirius hummed in faux consideration. “I call bullshit.”

You let out a defeated sigh and looked down at your hands in your lap. “I….I’m sorry, I- I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve made a mistake.”

Sirius was quiet for a few moments as you picked at your thumb nail and tried to ignore the stinging behind your eyes.

“Agreeing to spend tonight with me?” He asked softly then, causing you to look up so quickly that you heard your neck crack. 

“No! No! No, Sirius, not- not you, not this.” You assured him quickly, pulling one of his hands into both of yours. “I feel ridiculous.”

“‘Bout what?” He asked with reservation, though he considered your face with a look of concern clouding his own. 

“I can’t believe I tried cooking for you.” You bemoaned then, feeling that traitorous stinging behind your eyes turn into glossiness along your lash line. 

You watched in abject horror as Sirius’ face fell completely blank before he burst into laughter.

You were wrong, you were completely and utterly wrong; this really could end in you dying of humiliation. 

You were going to have to quit your job. You’d have to move back in with your parents. You’d have to change your number. You’d have-

“Doll, hey, hey wait!” Sirius managed to get out between hearty laughs as you tried pulling your hands away from him. “Wait! No no no, babe, listen.”

You let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob and pointedly kept your gaze at your lap; perhaps not the greatest option because from this vantage point all you could see was your hands in his which left you aching with want. 

One of his hands disappeared as it moved to your chin when he forced you to look at him.

“Do you know what I would be eating at home if I was alone right now?” He asked you around an incredibly handsome cheeky smile. 

You shook your head once which resulted in one traitorous tear spilling from your lashes, stealing Sirius’ silver gaze from your eyes as his thumb moved to catch it. 

“Maybe packaged ramen?” He replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Except I wouldn’t have cooked it.”

“What?” You choked out through a wet laugh.

“I wouldn’t have cooked it.” He repeated. “I would have crushed the noodles, opened the bag, sprinkled the seasoning on top of it and given it a shake and then would have eaten it from the bag.”

“That’s awful.”

“It is awful!” He agreed readily. “And do you know when the last time someone cooked for me was?”

You shook your head again. 

“Neither do I.” 

You both chuckled and he let his hand fall away from your chin where it joined your own again in your lap. 

“I cook all day long for everyone else and I usually can’t be arsed to cook for myself when the time comes. When I visit friends and family, they usually prefer having food prepared by a chef and I can’t bring myself to deny them because I love them and love cooking for them, so, this really is a treat. Not only did I not have to make it, it is also very good. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even know you could cook, so I was prepared to eat frozen pizza which still would have been an upgrade from my dry ramen.” 

You let out a breath in faux reluctance as you purveyed your set up. It did smell really good. 

“Did I completely botch this date?” You asked teasingly, though when you looked back at Sirius his gaze was as soft as butter left in the sun. 

“Absolutely not.” He whispered, leaning imperceptibly closer to you. “This is actually turning out better than I could have imagined.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as your eyes - without your consent - fell to his lips. “Yeah? Spend a lot of time imagining dates with me?”

“The majority of my time, actually.” He agreed easily, inching even closer to you. 

“And how do they usually end?”

Sirius shook his head no as his eyes moved to your own lips. “I don’t imagine that; I don’t imagine having to say goodbye.”

“No?”

“No.” 

“What do we do instead of saying goodbye, then?”

His eyes moved up to your own at that; neither of your daring to breathe as he searched your eyes for some kind of answer.

Well, you’d give him one.

Your answer came in the form of you closing the distance between you two and pressing your lips to his; he tasted a little bit like the mint gum you knew he chewed to avoid smelling like cigarettes, and he also tasted a bit like your pasta.

Your pasta, that you made for him. 

That he liked. 

And somewhere under all of that; somewhere under the mint and the tomato-basil-garlic, he tasted quite a bit like home. 

You weren’t sure who broke the kiss, but suddenly the two of you were connected by your foreheads as you took a heavy breath. 

“Usually that.” He answered breathlessly, earning him a laugh as you lowered your head only for him to pull it back up to press another kiss to your lips. “Can we eat this really good pasta that someone so graciously made for me now?” 

You laughed at him again and prepared to move your chair back to the other side of the table only for Sirius to reach over you and grab your plate so that you were sitting directly beside him instead. 

The two of you fell into your usual and comfortable repertoire then; his hand never leaving your knee under the table as the two of you talked about nothing and everything.

“Did you really not think I could cook?” You asked him  as you watched him clear off your table for you because “you cooked doll, it’s only fair.” 

You swore you noticed a slight dusting of pink on his cheek bones as he busied himself with loading your dishwasher. 

“Erm, no…actually. I never imagined goodbyes, and I never imagined you cooking.”

And though you wouldn’t find out until much, much later in your relationship; Sirius really didn’t think you could cook because the version of you in his head didn’t need to, that’s what he was for.

[cordycepsfem]

So my girlfriend and I went to our local Pride event today, one that I’ve written about previously here.

I did not want to go. This is because I am new-task-avoidant, and Pride was on one day of my usually tightly-hoarded weekend. But she asked that I go and meet some of her friends from her volunteering group so I said sure.

Meeting her friends was great - they’re fun and welcoming people from a variety of backgrounds, and I’m glad we did that. I hope we can spend time with them again soon.

Then we go out to the actual festival part. It is loud. There are people everywhere. This is unsurprising because it is a pride event in a major city. As people we are not fond of loud, crowded events… but we made the effort to get here so we’re going to go through it.

So we start walking.

As we make our way through the crowds I realize that the two of us are some of the more conservative-looking individuals there. We’re in T-shirts, shorts, baseball caps, functional shoes. There are many, many people in what we on here are all familiar with as “queer” costuming - it’s loud, it’s ugly, and it’s adorned with pins and stickers demanding attention. Many people have giant flags around their necks.

We see booths with obviously female individuals selling merchandise emblazoned with “f*ggot” doing a robust business. Lots of apparel and accessories that scream “I have an identity and I’m here to make it your problem!!” One booth has a pin showing a mastectomy-scarred chest reading “the no-titty committee” which causes me to let out a sad noise, because sure enough I’ve seen at least ten individuals with bare chests and some awful mastectomy scars wandering around. Some have glitter or fancy tape adoring their scars. Others have very obvious “dog ears” which look sloppy and painful.

(Note: I am not saying that having scars is awful. I am saying that the way the incisions were made was imprecise, leaving scars that are larger and that look worse as compared to, like, an actually good surgeon performing a regulated procedure with a standardized course, and not a “gender medicine professional.” This is obviously my own bias from doing research and from seeing others “in the wild” and should only be taken as my opinion. I have plenty of scars; the surgical ones all look clean and well-executed. These did not.)

We keep walking. There were at least two furry booths. Lots of people in puppy masks. Plenty of trans-focused groups.

We buy a few things at some of the more relevant booths and I stop to talk to one group about a job. My girlfriend says she’s ready to go, so we cut around the rest of the park and head for a nearby bookstore.

As we’re walking she takes my hand. “That pride wasn’t for us.”

“No.”

“I don’t know who it was for, but it wasn’t for us.”

I said “I told you so” in the kindest of voices but it was really just sad. This event and so many others happening this month are no longer for actual LGBT people. They are a celebration of the commodification of “queer” identity. Were there some booths there with people doing good work for those in our communities? Yes, without a doubt. But was there a bigger contingent of people there to give a “fuck you” to the world? Yep.

The first Pride events were to show straight people that LGBT people were not sexual deviants. Now the sexual deviants have booths at the Pride events.

I would just like a lesbian event. Just women. I’m willing to start it and run it. Girlfriend was so excited to go to Pride, and I think she left more disappointed than anything else. There are no longer a lot of “normies” at Pride. They have to be somewhere, so where?

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS XI | SOMEONE TO STAY

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 6,369

summary: ted has some news to share with the team that unexpectedly leads to other secrets coming out. 

A/N: here it is - the penultimate chapter of distractions! i’ve had the events of this chapter planned out for what feels like forever, and i finally get to share it with you all. thank you for reading and i can’t wait to see what you think💙💛

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

It should come as no surprise that you and Jamie end your night after the Man City win doing some…not-so-innocent activities to celebrate. You’re hesitant at first, not wanting to agitate Jamie’s ankle, but your attentiveness only turns him on more. You’re not entirely sure what time you actually fall asleep, but in the early morning light, you’re awoken by Jamie leaving a trail of kisses on your face and down to your neck, and before you know it, you’re going another two rounds. 

You bask in the afterglow side by side as you catch your breath. When you look at Jamie, there’s a dopey smile on his face.

“You happy or something?” you ask teasingly and his smile only widens.

“Just a little,” he murmurs, leaning over to give you another kiss.

You lay on your sides facing each other for a few quiet moments, as you trace the tattoos on his arm. 

“Have I mentioned how much I like your tattoos?” you whisper. 

“Mm-mm,” Jamie shakes his head.

“Well, I do.”

“Have you ever thought about getting one?”

“A couple times, but not seriously,” you tell him, “Not sure what I’d get.”

“I think you should get a big number 9 plastered across your back,” he suggests with a faux-serious expression.

You snort, “And why would I do that?”

He shrugs innocently, “So you can have a piece of your favorite footballer wherever you go.”

“That’s funny because you and I both know my favorite footballer is…”

“I swear to God if you get the number 24 tattooed anywhere on your body, I’ll scream.”

You laugh out loud, placating your boyfriend with another kiss. “I think I’ll have to keep thinking of other tattoo ideas before I commit to anything officially.”

“Fine,” Jamie agrees.

You move your fingers up the length of his arm to run gently across his face, “With everything that happened last night, I never got the chance to ask you about your dad. Was he at the game?”

Jamie looks down, but covers your hand with his, “No, he wasn’t. Which I think honestly messed with me more. I ended up texting him afterwards, but I haven’t heard back yet.”

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” you whisper, knowing their relationship was complicated, but that he still begrudgingly cared about the man, “I think reaching out could be good. You don’t have to forgive him, but you deserve a little closure.”

Jamie nods, “Yeah. Ted said something like that, too.”

You smile internally. Of course he did. 

Jamie lifts his head to glance at the clock on your side of the bed, “I think we overslept.”

You roll your eyes light heartedly, “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Jamie smirks giving you yet another kiss, “We should get ready. Can I drive you to the club today?”

Your heart flutters at how excited he seems to publicly take you to work for the first time. Unfortunately, you had a few loose ends to tie up this morning, so you’d be going to the club later this afternoon, getting the all clear from Rebecca over text on your way home last night. 

“I’ll actually be in a little later today. I have some things I need to do first,” you’re attuned to the way Jamie’s face falls, so you quickly reach out to stroke his cheek again, “I promise there’s nothing to worry about. I want to tell you everything. I was thinking over dinner tonight? I can make my lasagna that you like so much.”

Jamie’s expression relaxes, though you can tell he’s still a bit weary of what exactly you’ll be telling him. Still, he gives you a tiny smile, “That sounds great, babe.”

“Good. Now hurry up and get ready. Don’t want Roy to yell at you.” 

Jamie groans, but reluctantly pushes himself out of bed. You eventually manage to get up yourself once he’s ready, pulling on one of his tee-shirts so you can kiss him goodbye at the door. 

Once he’s gone, you take a deep breath. Despite your indecision about your job situation, spending the night carrying on with Jamie, Keeley, and Roy made what you wanted to do become clear as day. You weren’t sure how everyone would react, especially with the trouble Keeley and Rebecca had gone through, but you knew in your heart you had to follow your dreams on your own terms. And that’s exactly what you were going to start doing this morning.

Jamie arrives at Nelson Road with a sense of self assurance he’s never had before. Sure, he’s always had an air of confidence and cockiness about him his entire life, but today Jamie feels a special sense of pride when he enters the locker room. Not only had he helped his team win a game in his home city the night before, he was dating the most incredible girl he has ever met and now everyone knew it. 

As if they didn’t hype him up enough about it the night before, his teammates greet him with pats on the back and teasing remarks about the match, and about you. Jamie rolls his eyes, joking right along with them, but on the inside he’s admittedly enjoying the praise. He knows the team loves you, and is very protective of you. And while he knows they’ve grown to love him too since returning to Richmond, it warms his heart that they not only approve of his relationship with you, but are almost as excited about it as he is. Almost. He was definitely the most excited.

The Greyhounds go about their morning, getting ready for training, and the spirit continues to be high. For whatever reason, though, Jamie senses a shift in the mood when the coaches enter the locker room. They’re probably going to want to get serious about their final game of the season, he assumes, but another piece of him worries that something else is going on.

“Hey, everyone listen up,” Ted calls out and he’s missing the usual pep in his voice, “I’ve got something I want to say to you all before training.”

The team instantly stops whatever they’re doing to give their coach their full attention. Ted exchanges a look with Coach Beard who nods reassuringly. Roy and Trent stand off to the side, seemingly in the loop as well, and they don’t look thrilled about whatever it is. 

When Ted turns back to face the team, he’s scratching his face nervously, but he takes a deep breath and continues, “There’s been a lot going on in my life lately, mentally, as you may know. And while I’ve been handling things better, there’s still one thing I can’t fix here, and that’s my relationship with my kid. He hasn’t said anything himself, but I know I’m not present enough in his life. So, that’s why I decided after our season’s over, I’m going to go back to Kansas. Permanently. So...this will be my last week as your coach.”

It takes everyone in the room a second to process this, but when reality hits them, there’s an uproar of confusion, sadness, and frustration. It's unclear what each of them say, as they talk over one another, but most are just trying to tell Ted to stay in their own way. 

Ted nods his head, letting them get it all out, before raising his hand to calm them down. “Hey, hey, hey. I know it’s sudden, but trust me I didn’t think this through lightly. Coaching you guys the last few years has been one of the greatest honors and privileges of my life. But now I need some time to focus on my family and I hope you all will come to understand that.”

Silence blankets the room again, before another chorus of murmurs echo their understanding, though the mood in the room is still solemn. For Jamie’s part, he’s mostly remained silent from his seat on the bench, too shell-shocked by the news to say or do anything. He understood that Ted was leaving, but the actuality of it wasn’t hitting him completely yet. Probably because he didn’t want to let himself believe it, with how important Ted was to him, even if he didn’t always acknowledge that. 

“So, who’s gonna be our coach next year?” Dani asks, and few teammates tack on ‘yeahs’ in equal curiosity. 

Jamie notices Ted’s eyes briefly flit to Roy, but the assistant coach just continues starting straight ahead with his arms crossed.

“Uh, I’m not sure yet. Think that’s up to Rebecca, but I just told her the news this morning,” Ted answers honestly. 

“Coach Beard, are you leaving, too?” Colin questions this time.

Everyone’s heads whip to the man in question at the front of the room next to Ted.

Slowly Beard nods his head, “Yeah. I’m leaving, too.”

Another round of depressed groans carries through the locker room as the team processes a second loss.

“Wait, what about Y/N?” Sam brings up before he can even stop himself, but as soon as he sees the alarmed look on his coaches faces, he realizes his mistake. “Shit.”

The team grows quiet again, their heads turning to Sam this time, and Jamie’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your name.

“Uh, what does Y/N have to do with this?” Isaac questions.

“Yeah, just because she’s American doesn’t automatically mean she’s leaving, too.” Jan Maas adds on.

While Jamie’s equally confused, his heart continues to pound against his chest. With furrowed brows, he looks between a guilt-ridden Sam, and Beard and Ted, who exchange looks of their own. An uneasy feeling forms in the pit of his stomach, as he and the rest of his teammates wait for an explanation.

A nervous Ted clears his throat, nodding again, “I think what Sam is referring to is that...Y/N is actually my niece.” To the chorus of gasps, Ted continues, “Yeah. She didn’t want you fellas to know, so you didn’t think she got her job because we were related.”

Jamie’s heart drops. So many things become clear in that moment; why it felt like you’d been keeping something from him, how you’d become so close to Ted in a short period of time, why you were so good with Henry when he visited. You’ve known him your whole life. He can barely hear Ted continue as he processes all of this. 

“I’m sure this isn’t how she pictured you all finding out. But either way, me leaving doesn’t necessarily mean she’ll want to go as well,” he tells everyone.

However, no one has time to feel relief when a small voice pipes up.

“But what about that job she’s interviewing for?” Will asks from the back of the room, drawing everyone’s attention to him. Suddenly nervous with everyone’s eyes on him, he carries on with a stutter, “I-I heard her talking to Sam in the boot room about it one day. She’s interviewing for a writing job in New York.”

Once again, everyone’s heads sharply turn to Sam, who looks apologetically at Jamie across the room. That’s when it sinks in for everyone. You in fact could be leaving them too. 

Jamie can barely hold eye contact with Sam, turning his attention to his shoes. His breathing goes heavy, and he barely makes out Coach Beard ordering everyone to start heading towards the pitch for training. Sam is the last one to file out besides Jamie. He wants to apologize to his friend, for helping keep your secret, and letting Jamie find out this way, but he doesn’t know what to say to make him feel better. So, he just defeatedly follows the rest of his team out of the locker room doors.

Jamie’s not sure how much time passes when a hand on his shoulder brings him back to reality.

“Hey, Jamie,” Ted’s soothing voice says to him, “Want to chat in my office for a sec?”

Jamie nods absent-mindedly, rubbing his face before following behind his coach. He passes Roy who only gives him a pat on the back before leaving with Beard and Trent. 

Ted shuts the door behind Jamie, before rounding his desk to sit in his office chair. Jamie fidgets for a few seconds before leaning against the shelf near the door. 

After it's clear Jamie’s not going to start this conversation, Ted speaks up again himself, “Well, first off I want to say I’m sorry that you found out about everything this way. I’m sure she wanted to tell you all of that herself, and I’m sure Sam didn’t mean for it to come out that way either.” 

Jamie nods, still not looking at Ted. Internally, he laughs bitterly. You were probably going to tell him all of this tonight; feed him a nice meal just to break his heart.

“If it’s any consolation, this is the first time I’m hearing about this job in New York, too,” Ted adds, “So it has nothing to do with my decision to go back to the states, if that’s really something she’s considering. In fact, I haven’t had the chance to tell her my news either.”

“So, she’s really your niece?” Jamie finally says. He definitely knows it's the truth, but he’s still in disbelief that it's been right under his nose the whole time. 

“Sort of,” Ted snorts, “Her dad is Michelle’s brother. So, in a way she’s not technically my niece any more. But she’s still my family in the way that matters.” 

Jamie nods again. A piece of him is touched by the way Ted has clearly been looking out for you the last few months; especially after your breakup. But another part of him is horrified that he’s been sneaking around with a relative of Ted’s this whole time. 

It’s as if Ted can sense his uneasiness as he speaks again, “I’m really happy for you two by the way.”

“Really?” Jamie asks, making eye contact with him for the first time.

“Really, really,” Ted nods, with a kind smile on his face, his head resting in his hand, “I think it’s great. I mean, I just found out yesterday, but she is clearly very smitten with you.”

Jamie’s cheek’s flush and he prays Ted doesn’t notice. “You’re not going to threaten me or tell me I’m not good enough for her?”

“Nah, that’s more of a dad’s job; and she’s got two so I’m sure you’ll hear that speech plenty,” Ted teases, “But I also know you, Jamie. I’ve seen you come into yourself the last few years, and that person is a good guy. Getting to see your growth has been one of the best parts of coaching this team, and one of the things I’ll miss the most. I don’t need to tell you not to hurt her, because I know you won’t. Besides, I can see that you’re just as smitten with her, if not more.”

If Jamie wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now. Not only because of his comment about his feelings for you, but also due to Ted complimenting him. He was once again overcome with sadness thinking about Ted not being around anymore, but he couldn’t handle that thought right now. And he certainly couldn’t handle thinking about how he’d feel if you were leaving, too.

Unsure of what else to say, Jamie just settles on a simple thank you. 

Ted gives him another supportive smile. “Don’t mention it. Just go easy on her about this whole job thing. She’s probably confused by it all, and she might not even go. Just talk to her about it, okay?”

Jamie nods, managing a tiny smile of his own. “Coach?” he asks softly, “Would it be okay if I skip training today? Think I need to clear my head. Might end up going for a run on my own anyway.”

Ted nods assuringly, “Of course.”

As Jamie stands up and heads for the door, he turns to Ted one last time. “Coach?”

Ted looks at him curiously.

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me the last three years. I think it really sucks that you’re leaving, but I understand why. You’ve got to do what’s best for you and your family, and I’m sure your son will be glad to have you back around. I know the rest of the team’s bummed, but they’ll probably be over it by tomorrow and support you, too.”

This time Ted is the one overcome with emotion, knowing it's rare to get this much sentiment from Jamie Tartt. Trying not to show it, Ted just nods and gives him another smile. “Thank you, Jamie.”

With one last tight smile, Jamie pulls open Ted’s office door and disappears around the corner.

Your plan to have a productive morning was very successful. After treating yourself to a big, homemade breakfast, you hunkered down at a local café to get some things done regarding the job options you had. In effort to not get distracted, you turned your phone on ‘do no disturb’ and then spent a few hours drafting emails, tightening up your manuscript, and preparing what you were going to say to Jamie later in the day. 

After feeling satisfied with your work, you close your laptop and decide you have a bit of time before you need to be at the club, so you plan to go to the grocery store to get everything you need for dinner with Jamie. However, when you open your phone to type out a list, you see dozens of missed calls and texts.

Your first instinct is that someone had to have died. But that was ridiculous. Still, your nerves are spiking as you check your texts. There were a slew of them from various members of the team, and even Roy and Trent Crimm. In some shape or form, they were all asking about your relation to Ted, whether or not you were leaving Richmond, and if you were taking that job in New York. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick. How the fuck did they know all of that?

You get your answer when you finally listen to the one lone voicemail you had. It was from Sam.

“Hi, I can’t talk long, I’m meant to be at training, but I need to tell you that I fucked up and I’m sorry. The team knows about you being related to Ted. And about the New York job. It all just came out and I can explain more later, but I just need you to know that I’m so, so sorry. And I’m sorry if it hurt Jamie, but I know you two will work it out. Okay, I gotta go. Beard and Roy are coming. I’m sorry again. Okay, bye.”

There’s not an ounce of you that can be mad at Sam, especially with how distraught he sounds. And shit. Jamie. The one person that didn’t reach out. You can’t imagine what he’s thinking right now.

Running out of the café, you furiously navigate your phone to order an Uber to the club, furiously cursing yourself for not being able to drive on the left side of the road. Stupid England. 

Once you arrive, you race through the halls to the locker room. It's about time for lunch, and you count your blessings that most of the team must have already left the premises to eat. Among the few stragglers is Sam, who is anxiously sitting on the bench staring at his phone. His head shoots up when you enter, causing him to stand with wide eyes, meeting you halfway.

“Oh, my God, Y/N, I am so sorry, I completely messed everything up,” he begins, desperate to fix it all.

You shake your head as aggressively as you can, “You do not need to apologize to me. It’s okay. I just need to find Jamie, is he here?”

Sam frowns, “No. He didn’t end up training with us today, and no one’s heard from him since this morning.”

“Shit,” you sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. You rack your brain for where Jamie could have possibly gone, but one thing still isn’t making sense to you. Dropping your hands, you return your gaze to your best friend.

“Sam, why did this all happen?”

Sam’s shoulders sag, his expression unreadable. His eyes eventually leave yours to look at something over your shoulder. The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you spin around to see Ted standing in the doorway to the coaches’ offices. He nods his head for you to join him.

Glancing back at Sam one more time, he gives you a small smile and squeezes your shoulder. He apologizes one last time, to which you assure him  that everything is okay. But you were finding it hard to believe that yourself. 

Ted shuts the office door behind you and you dramatically fall into Beard’s chair as Ted sits in his own. 

You don’t bother beating around the bush, “What the hell is going on? I don’t come to work once and Sam ends up spilling the beans on everything. Did something happen?”

Your uncle gives you a sympathetic smile, “Yeah. I spilled some beans of my own.” At your confused expression, Ted plows forward, “I’m going back to Kansas.”

“For the summer?” you ask, though you fear you know the answer.

“No, Kiddo,” he sighs, “After the season’s over, I’m moving back to be closer to Henry. And Beard’s going back, too.”

“Oh,” you nod in understanding, but still find it hard to process, “When did you make that decision?”

“This morning, after my mom left,” he admits sheepishly, “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

You sit across from him in silence, taking it all in. The only reason you were here in the first place was because of Ted. What were you supposed to do now?

“The team didn’t exactly take it well,” Ted explains, “And in the midst of the chaos, Sam asked what me leaving meant for you. Everything sort of snowballed after that.

You inhale deeply, taking it all in. 

“And Jamie?” you ask quietly, “How did he take it?”

“I think he was just caught off guard and trying to figure out how to process it all,” Ted tells you, “He was surprised about the family thing. And the whole job in New York thing.” 

“Jesus, he’s probably pissed at me again,” you groan, “I was literally going to tell him everything tonight. I just needed a few more hours.”

Ted’s lips quirk up, “That’s life, Kiddo. It doesn’t always go exactly how we’d like it to.”

You scoff, “Yeah well life is stupid.”

“Yeah, it can be,” Ted chuckles, “I think it sounds great; a writing job in New York. That’s what you’ve always wanted, right? To write and live in the Big Apple?”

“Yeah. It was,” you say quietly, “But I wasn’t sure if that's what I wanted still, so I was trying to figure it out before I told Jamie. Or anyone.”

“Hey, that’s fair,” Ted nods supportively, “If you want my humble opinion, I think it’s great if you want to go for it in New York. I also think it’s great if you decide to stay here and continue to figure things out. Heck, it would even be great if you wanted to come back to Kansas, too. But Kiddo, you have to make that decision, whatever it may be, on behalf of yourself. Not for me, not for Jamie, not for anyone else. Just for you.”

Ted’s words settle in the air and you take it all in. While you were already pretty dead set on what you were going to do, you definitely agreed with his sentiment. You had to follow your own gut for once, not anyone else’s.

“You’re right,” you eventually say softly, “I think I know what I’m going to do, but I think I owe it to Jamie to finally have him be the first to know.”

Ted gives you a supportive smile, and your stomach flips.

“So, you’re really leaving?”

Ted nods solemnly, “I’m really leaving.”

“Then who the hell is going to make ridiculous puns around here to annoy Roy?”

This makes Ted snort, “I don’t know. I’m hoping I’ve rubbed off on enough of them, that they’ll carry on the tradition.”

You laugh along with him. You wonder if Ted will ever fully understand the impact he’s had here. On the club, on the team, and even on you these past months. You have a feeling even if he did, it wouldn’t be enough to change his mind. 

You spend the next few hours trying to track down Jamie, hoping the sooner you could find him and explain things, the less damage would accrue. 

However, he wasn’t answering your calls or texts, and no one seems to know where he is. You fear, even after your promises to communicate with each other after your last falling out, Jamie had once again resorted to pushing you completely away.

Lucky for you, Keeley happened to pop by the club that afternoon, and after getting caught up on the drama, insisted on driving you to Jamie’s to see if he’s there. Unfortunately, after searching every nook and cranny of his lavish home, you resign to the fact that he’s not there. You feel defeated as you resituate yourself in Keeley’s passenger seat, unsure of what to do next. She offers to drive you around Richmond, suggesting that Jamie could be blowing off steam, running somewhere, and maybe you’d pass him. You take up her offer, less so because you hoped to catch a glimpse of him, and more so to avoid going home to any empty home for a little while longer. 

It was nearly 6PM by the time Keeley drops you off at your flat. Suffice it to say, you didn’t find Jamie jogging around Richmond. You also didn’t find him wallowing in Crown and Anchor, but that didn’t stop you and Keeley from doing so yourself over a quick pint before calling off your search for the night. As she drove you home, you briefly wondered if Jamie could have possibly fled back to Manchester, to see his mom again. But that was four hours away, and there was no chance you were asking Keeley, or anyone for that matter, to make that drive. And the Uber fare would be atrocious. 

As you climb your apartment stairs, you resign to a night of waiting by your phone, hoping to hear from him, and if not, trying to find him again tomorrow. 

When you walk into your home, you’re instantly overcome with the feeling that you’re not alone. You’re proven right when, as you’re discarding your coat and shoes, Jamie enters the living room from your kitchen. 

“Hi,” you breathe out, after getting over the shock of seeing him, “Have you been here the whole time?”

Jamie shrugs, “I went on a run for a bit. But eventually I got the urge to come here.”

You nod, still on edge, “You, uh, didn’t think to answer any of my calls or texts?”

Jamie cringes, “So, I’m pretty sure I left my phone in my bag in the locker room.”

You scoff in disbelief, “Jamie…”

“I know. I know. That was stupid. But I left the club in such a hurry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“I was worried sick all day, I thought you were shutting me out again,” you whimper tiredly, unable to stop yourself from giving into the emotion that built up all day.

“Shit,” Jamie mutters, taking large steps to close the gap between the two of you to gather you in his arms, “I’m sorry.”

You allow yourself to feel comforted by his embrace for a few seconds before you’re shoving him away abruptly, “Fuck! I shouldn’t be making you apologize to me, when I’m the one who lied to you and hurt you. Again!” 

You cover your face with your hands, frustrated at yourself for making Jamie feel even an ounce of guilt, when you were once again in this situation because of you.

Gently, Jamie pries your hands from your face and interlocks your fingers together. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not, though! I keep messing things up between us because I don’t know how to communicate like a normal human being. And you don’t deserve to be jerked around like this. But I promise, I can explain everything if you give me the chance.”

Jamie swallows, taking in your words, though a tiny smile plays at his mouth. “I promise I will give you the chance, but is it okay if I say some things first?”

You hesitate, your eyebrows furrowing over what he could possibly have to say, but eventually you nod. 

“Thank you,” Jamie whispers, giving your hands another squeeze and then he takes a deep breath, “You’ve been spending a lot of time lately reassuring me that I’m good enough, but I feel like I haven’t done enough to assure you that you are more than enough for me. Yeah, it has sucked to feel like you were keeping stuff from me. I knew you couldn’t have been doing anything wrong, but it still hurt that you either didn’t want me to know or trust me enough to let me in. But now I understand that it has nothing to do with me. I get that letting people in is hard and that you were afraid that the secrets you were keeping would make things harder. Sure, it would have been nice to know you were related to Ted from the get-go. I might have not tried so hard to sleep with my coach's niece the first chance I got.”

You manage a small laugh.

“Obviously, I don’t regret that though. And I get why you did it. I get that it might have made your job more complicated, and then even more so once we got together. Telling family is a big step. So, I get it, I do.

“I even get why you didn’t tell me about the job in New York. The thought of you leaving…I can’t even think about it too much. But I also know that it's your dream. And the last time you told a guy you wanted to go after your dream, he discouraged you. And even though I would never do that, I know deep down that still scares you. But I want you to know that I think it's amazing; that you’re writing again, and that you have the opportunity to do it in the city you’ve always wanted to live in. I’m so proud of you, and want you to be where you need to be. Even if it's not here with me. So, that's why, as much as it kills me to say, I think you should do it. You should take the job in New York.”

Jamie’s words weigh heavily on you. Firstly, you’re heartened by his reassurance that you were more than enough for him. You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear that. Secondly, you were simultaneously surprised and not surprised that he was encouraging you to pursue the New York job. It wasn’t a direction you had been expecting this inevitable conversation to take, but it was Jamie you were talking about. Of course he’d say exactly the right thing and support you, even if it meant you moving back to another continent.

Overcome with complete adoration for him, and since words are failing you at the moment, you can’t help but to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. As you pull away, Jamie is clearly surprised by the act of affection, but he’s also not complaining. He looks at you expectantly, hoping you do eventually have something to say in response to his speech. And you do. You just need to figure out how to word it best. 

You eventually inhale your own shaky breath, meeting his eyes once again, “Thank you, for saying all of that. It means a lot to me. Even if you say you understand, I’m still sorry for keeping everything from you, especially now that it has come out this way. It really all stemmed from not wanting to mess anything up between us, but of course the opposite still happened.

“I’ve been dying to tell you about Ted for so long, but like you said, telling family is a lot, and Ted’s an important part of your life too, so I didn’t want to make things weird between you two. 

“And the job…I knew you’d be excited for me. But I think I just never wanted to see the look on your face when you heard it was in New York. And then things got more complicated when Keeley told me she knew a literary agent, here in the U.K. who might be interested in meeting with me.”

“Oh?” Jamie’s eyebrows shoot up in hopeful curiosity.

“Yeah. So, as you may have guessed, I needed some time to sort out what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go.”

“And,” Jamie asks timidly, “Have you decided?”

After a few beats, you nod. “Yeah. I decided I can’t work for that agency here.” Jamie’s face falls and you’re quick to latch back onto his hand, “But I also can’t take the job in New York either.”

Jamie stares at you in total confusion, “What?”

You smile slightly, finding his expression oddly adorable. “I want to write more than anything, and part of me is happy doing it by any means necessary, but I also hate the idea of not being able to prove myself on my own. Back in Chicago, Mason got me the job at the advertising firm. Then, when I got tired of that, Ted and Rebecca got me the job for Richmond. My friend from Chicago got me an interview in New York, and Keeley knows a literary agent here. Everything I’ve done has been because some else suggested it or did it for me. I’m not naive enough to know that sometimes connections are how people get work these days, but I don’t want that to be my story. I want to succeed because I did it on my own. 

“So, this morning, I told the publisher in New York I was no longer interested in interviewing for the reading position, and then spent hours refining my manuscript and submitting it to a few small, independent publishing houses to see if any of them would be interested in working with me. I know it won’t be as lavish as the publishing houses in New York or the one Keeley had connections to. But all writers start from somewhere, and I want to start somewhere on my terms.”

Jamie digests everything you said, and eventually gives you a shaky smile, “And where are these publishers you submitted to?”

You give Jamie your own shy smile, “Right here, in England.” Jamie’s grin widens as you continue, “I’ve never felt more at home, than I have here. And with the exception of my own family, I’ve never been surrounded by more people who genuinely care about me. I feel more like myself than I ever have before and I’m not really keen on losing any of that.” You bite your lip, “And I also sorta really like a certain footballer that lives here, too. So that’s kinda the cherry on top of it all.”

Jamie lets out a disbelieving laugh, “So, you’re staying?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Is that okay?”

Instead of answering, Jamie places both his hands on either side of your face and kisses you with as much passion as he can muster. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate, sliding your hands up his stomach to rest on his chest. You knew better now than to make a decision on behalf of a man, but god, were you glad that you got to keep doing this for the foreseeable future. 

When Jamie pulls away from you a few moments later, his eyes are watery, “I know I said I was okay with you going to New York - and I meant that - but, God, I’m glad you’re not.”

You giggle, “I’m pretty happy with my decision, too.”

Jamie leans in to kiss you again, but you lean back with your nose scrunched up. Your brain is less clouded by emotions now, and you finally pick up on the aroma flooding your home.

“Are you cooking something?”

Jamie smiles awkwardly, his face flushed, “Yeah, so during my run, I had this grand idea to surprise you with dinner like you usually do for me. So I grabbed what I could from the store and attempted to make your lasagna recipe. It’s probably nowhere near as good as yours is, and the garlic bread is store bought, but that shit still tastes fucking good, if I do say myself.”

You can’t keep the bright smile off your face, “I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

Jamie squints, “Yeahhh, maybe wait to try it first before you give me too much credit.”

You giggle and shake your head, before pulling Jamie in for a warm hug, which he accepts without protest.

You couldn’t care less how the food was going to taste. It could be burned to a crisp and you still knew it would be the best meal of your life. Because Jamie, your Jamie, took the time to make it to make you happy. And push you towards a decision that he thought would be what you wanted, even if it hurt him. 

You were so lucky to have him, and you were comforted by the fact that he seemed pleased to have you as well. And now there were no more secrets between you threatening to unravel everything. Jamie wasn’t going to disappear on you again, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere either. Richmond was your dream home now, and the fact that your person lived here too was the best kind of bonus.

A/N: THERE IT ISSSS CANT WAIT TO HEAR EVERYONE’S REACTIONS! ALSO, was anyone else bummed we didn’t see the team’s reaction to Ted leaving in the show when they first heard? i’ve had the scene in my head as the ted reveal since i thought of this story between season 3 even came out because i knew they’d take ted away from us and i was shook we didn’t get a reveal. i get why and part of me appreciates them not focusing on the sad, but i really took away from my story haha

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[wosoimagines]

Second Chance

part 2 of rivals

Jo's second camp with the team is nearly over and she gets news of her future.

2,367 words

previous part| |next part

“Hi, kid.”

I grinned at the familiar voice as I closed the door behind me.

“Hey, Becky.”

The woman smiled at me as I threw my bag onto the open bed. I hadn’t exactly expected Jill to room me with Becky again, but it was nice. Becky had helped to make sure that I actually got to bed at a responsible time and that I wasn’t late to any meetings or practices. After all, it had been quite easy for me to get distracted by everything else.

“Did you get to go to the lake?”

“Yeah, we went for a couple of days,” I admitted.

Becky nodded at that before she turned back to the book that she was reading. I tilted my head as I read the title.

“ The Portrait of Dorian Gray ,” I read off the spin. Becky looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve never read it.”

“I could read it out loud, if you’d like.”

I smiled at Becky as I nodded. Becky looked back down at the book as I kicked my shoes off. 

“‘I have always been my own master; had at least always been so, till I met Dorian Gray. Then--but I don't know how to explain it to you. Something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life. I had a strange feeling that Fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows. I grew afraid, and turned to quit the room. It was not conscience that made me do so: it was a sort of cowardice. I take no credit to myself for trying to escape.’”

I grinned as Becky read the words on the pages. I knew that we had at least an hour, if not two, until our meeting started since they were still waiting on quite a few players to get into the hotel. I didn’t give Becky time to start the next paragraph as I crawled into her bed before ducking my head under her left arm so I could look at the pages. Becky stayed silent for a moment as I got comfortable.

It wasn’t until I had settled down and stopped moving that Becky continued.

“‘Conscience and cowardice are really the same things, Basil. Conscience is the trade name of the firm. That is all.’

‘I don't believe that, Harry, and I don't believe you do either. However, whatever was my motive--and it may have been pride, for I used to be very proud--I certainly struggled to the door. There, of course, I stumbled against Lady Brandon. 'You are not going to run away so soon, Mr. Hallward?' she screamed out. You know her curiously shrill voice?’”

Becky’s voice was definitely one of the most soothing voices I had ever heard. Maybe she could become a professional audiobook reader or something like that once she retired from playing. Or even just take it up during the off-season. I wouldn’t mind listening to Becky read me more books if her voice was always this soothing.

“‘Yes; she is a peacock in everything but beauty,’ said Lord Henry, pulling the daisy to bits with his long, nervous fingers.

‘I could not get rid of her. She brought me up to Royalties, and people with Stars and Garters, and elderly ladies with gigantic tiaras and parrot noses. She spoke of me as her dearest friend. I had only met her once before, but she took it into her head to lionize me. I believe some picture of mine had made a great success at the time, at least had been chattered about in the penny newspapers, which is the nineteenth-century standard of immortality. Suddenly I found myself face to face with the young man whose personality had so strangely stirred me. We were quite close, almost touching. Our eyes met again. It was reckless of me, but I asked Lady Brandon to introduce me to him. Perhaps it was not so reckless, after all. It was simply inevitable. We would have spoken to each other without any introduction. I am sure of that. Dorian told me so afterwards. He, too, felt that we were destined to know each other.’”

I couldn’t find it in myself to fight off the sleep as Becky’s voice lulled me into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, pipsqueak.”

I looked at Hope who had sat down across from me. I titled my head at her sudden presence. I knew that she often sat at the table with Carli and Christie during our meals. But they were both seated at a table that was behind Hope.

“Hi, Hope.”

I looked over my shoulder where most of the team was still getting their food. Being small did come with advantages, such as being small enough to get around everyone so I could be one of the first to get my food. I spotted Becky and Alyssa who were just now grabbing their own plates to fill them up. I turned back to look at Hope.

“Look, I just came to say that maybe you aren’t that bad.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. Hope complimenting me had been the last thing I was expecting. After all, we still weren’t getting along that well. It seemed like we both tolerated each other just enough for a fight not to break out during practice, but that didn’t stop the two of us from exchanging words during practice.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Hope said as she kept her eyes trained on her plate as she stabbed some of the food with her fork. “You still aren’t better than I am. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t helping us out.”

I stayed silent, causing Hope to look up at me. She just stared back at me. I was trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke or something.

“Who are you and what have you done with Hope Solo?”

Hope chuckled at that as she nodded.

“That’s cute, pipsqueak.”

“No seriously. Hope Solo would never compliment me. We go at each other’s throats,” I said as I shook my head. I turned my attention back to my plate. Hope had to be seriously sick if she was being nice to me all of a sudden. “Mine and Hope’s relationship does not consist of us being nice to each other. We’re like sweet potatoes and mustard. They don’t go together. I don’t give a shit what Mick says either. He’s a weirdo for eating sweet potatoes and mustard.”

“No, I’m serious, Jo,” Hope said. I paused at that before I looked up at Hope. “Can you just take the compliment?”

I shook my head. I really couldn’t.

At least not from Hope.

This was too weird. Hope wasn’t supposed to be nice to me. She wasn’t supposed to compliment me.

“Is everything okay over here?”

Hope and I both looked at Becky who took a seat next to me. I sent Becky a small smile before I turned back to Hope. I slowly nodded my head as I realized just what this was about.

“You’re being nice 'cause I saved your ass in the goal.”

“Jo! Language!”

I rolled my eyes at that. I already had a mom at home, I didn’t need Becky deciding to mother me while I was at camp too.

“No.”

“You said that way too fast for it to be true! This is about me saving you in the goal.” I grinned as I glanced at Alyssa who sat next to Becky. So it wasn’t because Hope actually wanted to get to know me. “You just feel bad that you tried acting all tough and like you could stop me and then you couldn’t back it up and I had to save the game against France so we didn’t draw again.”

“I don’t need help in the goal, pipsqueak .”

“Sure you don’t.”

It felt good knowing that Hope had felt bad after I saved her skin.

“You could have just said thank you.”

“Jo,” Becky said. I looked over at her as I raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t too sure why she really cared what happened between Hope and me. “Just take the compliment.”

“But she’s only saying it because I made the stop on the goal line.”

“Jo. Take the compliment.”

My jaw slacked a bit at that. I couldn’t believe that Becky was actually taking Hope’s side.

“Thank you for the compliment,” I said once I eventually turned back to Hope. The goalie smirked at me as she stood up. I rolled my eyes as I lowered my voice. “Good thing you’re good at soccer. Cause the porch light’s on, but there ain’t no one home.”

It wasn’t until Hope was well out of earshot that I felt the hand connect with the back of my head.

“Ow!”

“You’re lucky she didn’t hear that comment,” Becky hissed quietly. I slumped back against my chair at that. I really wasn’t in the mood for another lecture. “I get it. You don’t get along with Hope and you might never get along with Hope, but she’s our goalie. You are going to have to stop trying to provoke her.”

“She doesn’t treat me fairly. Why should I be the one to have to extend the olive branch?” I asked as I leaned forward to get closer to Becky. “She’s the adult. I’m only fifteen.”

“Jo-”

“No, it’s bullshit.”

“Langauge.”

“And I don’t need another mom. I already have one.”

Becky sighed as she leaned back in her own chair. I looked away from her. 

“What if I talk to Hope?”

Becky and I both looked over at Alyssa. I had honestly forgotten that she was sitting at the table with us because of how quiet she had been. It was something that Becky told me I would have to get used to though. 

“As if that would make it any better.”

“That would be great. Thank you, Alyssa.”

I huffed as I pushed myself away from the table. I had already finished my plate and if it gave me an excuse to be away from Alyssa and Becky right now, I would take it. I didn’t need everyone else fighting my battles for me. It was part of the problem. If everyone else fought my battles for me then no one would ever take me seriously.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, I heard that you and Hope got into it,” Jill said as I was wrapping my hand. I sighed as I looked up at her. “Is there a problem that I, as the coach, need to address between you two?”

“No.”

Jill nodded her head slowly as she still looked down at me as I finished wrapping my hand. I rubbed the bridge of my nose before looking back up at her.

“Is there anything else?”

“I really hoped that you and Hope would have gotten over this by now,” Jill said. I softly groaned as my shoulders slumped forward. “I’ll be honest with you, kid. I want to call you up for the August game and September-”

“I get it,” I assured her. I glanced at where the rest of the team was getting ready. Even though I had been friendly enough with Alyssa and Becky, the rest still seemed hesitant to get close to me. “Who wants a kid on their team when they’re the best in the world?”

“Jolene, that isn’t it.”

“Isn’t it?”

I looked away from Jill and down at my shoes. I knew that it was. It wasn’t the first time I had been left behind because I was the youngest one, and I doubted that it would be the last.

“Jo, you’re gonna be called to the U-20 team in just days,” Jill said as she bent down so that we were equal in height. “I encouraged them to do so. I think it would be a great opportunity.”

I looked back over to the rest of the team. But my eyes zeroed in on Hope. I knew what she would say when she found out that I wouldn’t be called to the team in August or September.

“The U-20 World Cup will be over before August. So what’s the point in keeping me out of the September camp?”

Hope would only boost and brag if I was gone longer than I needed to be. Plus, I didn’t want to lose the pace of play that came with the national team if I was gone for too long.

“Because you’re only fifteen, Jo. You will have to go to school and finish your education,” Jill said. I looked back at her. I didn’t care about that, I just cared about my future in soccer. “If your grades suffer too much, then I can’t call you up. You will be gone until late August if you guys make it to the finals.”

“So why have me go to the U-20 team instead of getting more practice with the senior team?”

“Because the U-20 team is going to a World Cup. It might not be the World Cup you were hoping for, but it will give you a taste of what it will be like next year,” Jill said as she sighed. I wondered if she would ever get tired of me and all my questions. “You’ll be expected to be a leader on the U-20 team as you’ve already been called up to the senior team. That will also be a good experience for you. I don’t expect that you’ll be seen as a leader on this team for years, maybe not until I’m gone even, but it will happen eventually, and leading a team at a World Cup, even a youth one, will be good for you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Jill sighed as she patted my leg before standing up. If I had to prove myself to Jill at the youth level again, I was going to do it. Nothing would stop me from winning gold in August. Maybe then, the rest of the team would also start to see me as more than just some kid.

[ghostbeam]

can you feel my heart beating like a hammer? | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

You watch from your spot, shoulders tense as you anticipate the arrival of yet another creepy clown or zombie when you see him.

He’s not like the other actors. He’s not quick with his movements and doesn’t yell or jump at anyone. His terror lies in the fact that he does none of those things, that he stands across from you and stares.

And then he grins.

Your stomach turns but not in fear.

Notes: hiiiiii so this is my scare actor!dabi fic. It’s my halloween/October fic for the month!! I’ve been working on this for a while and I’ve finally finished only five days before halloween lmao. Wanna thank mari for calling me after class that day where we had the same exact thought of this at the same time and I had to pull over to put it in my notes (and also for thinking of this title cause I was struggling) anyways I hope you enjoy!!! thanks for reading!! (Title from help I'm alive by metric) listen to the playlist here!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, f!reader, explicit content, scare actor!dabi, Dabi is touya (quite literally he is not called Dabi in this at all ajhssjsjjss), sex in public, fearplay (kind of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation (very brief), oral f!receiving, fingering, multiple instances where Dabi rests his hand on ur neck but never chokes u, biting (shoulder, neck), ‘baby’ and ‘angel’ as pet names, use of ‘good girl’, frightening (debatable im not that good) depictions of scare actors and haunts, one description of gory makeup, fake weapons

Words: 5k

You’re scared, terrified actually, and your friends are nowhere in sight.

You’re cold. You’re hungry. A clown with a chainsaw won’t stop following you around, and you just want to go home. 

When you were invited to the local haunted house, your first instinct was to say no. You’d always been afraid of these things, anything with jumpscares, anything not contained in the screen of your television, you decided wasn’t for you. But your friends insisted and explained that the local haunt wouldn’t be anything like any of those expensive theme parks with big productions and highly trained actors. 

But if you were being honest with yourself, it all felt the same to you. It was maybe a little creepier, out in a field in the middle of nowhere, the closest business a couple of miles away, and no background checks for the actors. Uneasiness washed over you the moment you stepped through the wooden gates.

And now you’re alone.

Scare actors are coming at you left and right, all dressed in dark makeup or clown outfits or fake blood, each with their very own faux weapon used for getting just close enough to you without touching. They’re targeting you because you’re scared, you realize because you scream and clutch your head and run in all different directions when they come at you. 

It’s quite the production for a local haunt. It’s eerie, smoke machines pour fog throughout, and music that ranges from creepy carnival tunes to popular horror movie scores blare through worn-out speakers, which add to the effect. The actors are painted with precision or covered in liquid latex and black blood that oozes from fake wounds. You feel like you’re in a horror movie. You might be in one, for all you know, which is what scares you the most

You finally find a moment to calm yourself down, seeking a single moment of peace against a makeshift wall on the outside of a haunted house. 

You take a moment to look around you, out over the sea of people and costumes. You observe the way the actors jump at the attendees, throwing themselves forward or making loud noises, dragging and tapping their fake weapons against the ground. It’s complete chaos, and you thought that seeing it from the sidelines would make it less terrifying for you, but it doesn’t. You don’t want to be here. 

You watch from your spot, shoulders tense as you anticipate the arrival of yet another creepy clown or zombie when you see him. 

He’s not like the other actors. He’s not quick with his movements and doesn’t yell or jump at anyone. His terror lies in the fact that he does none of those things, that he stands across from you and stares.

And then he grins.

Your stomach turns but not in fear. 

He’s not scary, just strange, and oddly handsome too, you think. You don’t smile back, but you keep your eyes on him. You aren’t sure if his smile is part of his act or if he means it. Somehow, both make you uneasy. 

He’s slow as he moves towards you, calculated. His eyes rake up and down your body as he approaches. As he comes closer, you can finally get a good look at his face, smudged with paint over scars that fall underneath both eyes and line his jaw. What looks to be like staples sit in the seam between the marked and unmarked skin, and you can’t tell if they’re part of the costume or if he wears the piercings when he’s not working. You kind of hope he does.

He looms over you, close enough that you can smell a mixture of sweat and cologne on his skin, but not enough to touch you. You think you want him to, though. His eyes are a brilliant blue, almost glowing against the night. 

He’s beautiful. You can tell even hidden under the face paint. His costume is stitched together with yarn at the seams of his shoulders, silver staples that imitate the piercings on his face scatter the stitches. His coat is long and reaches the middle of his calves, and a loose white shirt drapes over his chest. His dark jeans wear the same stitches as his coat, and his dark boots are big, the sound of the soles against the pavement is loud as he steps even closer to you. 

Touya’s never had any particular interest in any of the attendees of the haunt before. Sure, he’s taken girls home who’d bravely slipped their numbers into his pocket or caught him when his shift was over, but no one had ever caught his eye quite like you. 

He’d seen you cowering before his coworkers, running away and screaming, not unlike many of the people around you. But he had noticed you.

And now you’re standing not even an inch away from him, staring up at him with wide eyes and trembling so hard he can almost feel you. You’re adorable. He wants to see you like this underneath him with your back arched, pretty lips parted for him, just for him. 

Your moment is interrupted by the revving of a chainsaw and the dragging of metal against pavement as yet another clown laughs loudly in your ear. You jump, unconsciously moving forward, finding yourself in the arms of the patchwork man you’d been so captivated by. You squeak out a small sorry, but he says nothing, smirking down at you.

Dabi’s heart leaps in his chest. He wants to steal you away, pull you into one of the haunts, and fuck you behind one of the walls. No one would suspect a thing if he covered you in enough fake blood to pass as one of them, making you scream in pleasure against the screams of fear. 

His eyes flicker to your lips before he lowers his hands to your waist, squeezing tightly before backing away from you and leaving you alone without a word. 

…

After another half an hour of running from scare actors and looking for your friends, you finally find them near a food stand, unassuming and completely unaware you’d disappeared.

You sprint towards them, getting good at dodging anyone jumping at you after all of that time alone. Your best friend spots you first, her eyes widening as she walks towards you.

“Where the fuck did you go?” She questions with a drink in one hand that flashes different colors from the plastic light-up ice in the liquid. 

“You guys left me!” You exclaim, “I’ve been dodging those fuckers for an hour alone!”

“We thought you were with us. I promise! We went in that one haunt with the possession scene and when we came out you were gone!” She explains, but you can’t help but feel a little annoyed. You didn’t even want to come out tonight. You’d only said yes because she begged. 

“Did you look for me?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Look,” She begins, “Everything is so chaotic here. Everyone was moving on to the next house! I figured you’d catch up!”

“You suck.” You pout.

“I know I do. I’m sorry!” She pleads. “I’ll buy you something to eat. C’mon.”

She buys your meal and leads you to some of the wooden picnic tables in the small area, the rest of your friends already occupying some of the space. You’re treated warmly as they all throw questions at you about where you went. You resist the urge to act upset or make a scene, explaining that you’d been running around and looking for them while trying to avoid fake chainsaws and machetes. You’re in the middle of telling a story about getting caught in a corner with one of the zombies when your friends start to erupt in a fit of giggles. You pause your story, confused at their sudden reaction when you feel someone blow at your neck.

It only surprises you, all the fear expelled from your body in your hour of terror. You turn to look at the source and there he is again, the patchwork man from earlier. You’re not scared of him, this time, only intrigued. 

He hovers over you, moving and contorting his neck in a way that you assume is meant to be creepy, but it does nothing but amuse you. 

You smile and let out a small laugh, looking up at him through your lashes. Dabi feels his jeans tighten at the way you look up at him, eyebrows pulled up in a pout, leaning closer as he grins. 

“Are you ever gonna tell me your name?” You ask him, eyes flickering to his lips for a moment. He shakes his head slowly, maintaining eye contact while holding a finger to his mismatched lips. You give him yours, but he only stares. You’re once again pulled in by the blue in his eyes, finding yourself wondering if they’re a different shade than the last time you saw him. “Not even if I beg?”

He’ll punish you for that later, Dabi thinks. 

You watch him reach behind his back, still bent over towards your face, readying yourself for what you think might be the fake machete he carried before.

He pulls a single yellow daisy from behind him, clutching it between two fingers as he holds it out to you. You know he must have picked it from one of the patches of green that scatter the field. Your friends giggle some more, whispering things you're unable to focus on at the moment. You look between his painted face and the flower, reaching out to take it from him.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you lean away from him, smelling the flower and twirling it between your fingers. The smile he gives you is genuine.

He leans closer to you, bringing a finger up to his cheek and tapping twice to signal something. He wants a kiss, you realize. It’s against the rules, and he knows this. Scare actors are not meant to touch the guests, and doing so could get them into a lot of trouble. But Touya wants to touch you. He remembers the feeling of you pressed against him when you’d jumped in fear of the clown from earlier. He’d broken the rule then, and he had no problem with breaking it again.

If not for your friends' excited squeals around you, you’re sure you would have frozen. You push yourself forward, placing a kiss to his cheek before you can talk yourself out of it. He smiles wide as you pull away, that creepy grin still on his face as he stares down at you. 

When he stands up, he begins to back away slowly without a word. You watch him walk, clutching a fist over his heart and giving you a giddy smile as he leaves. 

You feel disheartened knowing you might not see him again tonight. You place the flower behind your ear and take your eyes off where he disappeared. 

…

You and your friends stay until closing. As the night goes on, you find yourself getting used to the fear. You think you like it now, adrenaline running through your body as you're chased with chainsaws or reached for through windows inside of the haunts. It’s exhilarating. You understand why people like these so much.

Scare actors are practically chasing people out, running at them with their weapons until they make it through the gates. It’s complete mayhem, especially with the number of people now pushed to the front of the area. 

Amidst the chaos, you find yourself alone again. You search the crowd, avoiding the actors jumping toward you as you make your way through the sea of people. You push through different groups of people until you make it to a small open spot amidst the crowd. It’s there that you see the man from before, jumping at different people who walk by him. He drags his fake machete against the floor and it scrapes with a metallic grinding sound. He’s terrifying, you think. Not to you, but to anyone around him, he must be terrifying. 

He’s tall and imposing, completely silent as he pushes his weapon toward anyone he can reach. He’s fast, too, running up on different people, the sound of his big black boots is loud against the pavement.

You can’t move. You can only stare at him, completely in his element. He’s good at what he does, better and far more intimidating than any of the other actors you’ve encountered tonight. But somehow, you aren’t scared at all, not of him and not in any real way. Maybe you should be, though. 

He turns around, looking around as he walks from his last set of victims before his eyes find you. A smile crosses his face and he lifts a hand, wagging his fingers to wave at you. You avert your eyes in embarrassment that he caught you, even in the crowd of people. 

He stalks towards you, dragging his weapon behind him. He’s menacing, and you can’t help but feel a little afraid of him, wondering if he’ll jump towards you or do something to scare you all over again. When he approaches, you watch him smirk from under his makeup, close enough to see the texture of his skin and the blue of his eyes. He runs a finger down your arm until he reaches your hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling you along with him. 

You know you shouldn’t follow him. This is how people go missing, how people are found in a ditch with their friends crying on the news about how they were just with them. 

But you can’t bring yourself to care. You find him endlessly fascinating, from the way he moves to his dark demeanor. He’s strange and unsettling, but you like it. You want strange and unsettling, contrary to your feelings earlier in the night. 

Dabi can feel your hand trembling in his. He rubs soothing circles with his thumb over the top of your hand. He doesn’t want you to be too afraid of him. He wants you to like him. He’s almost embarrassed by it, seeking the approval of a random girl who visited the haunt. When he looks back at you, your eyes are wide, mouth agape as you let him pull you through the crowd of people. You look at him with curiosity and intrigue more than fear. Dabi feels his heart beat faster in his chest.

He pulls you to one of the haunts, one you went through earlier with a zombie rock band, a ridiculous theme that you remember scaring you the least. Guitar blares through the speakers as you enter, moving the curtains back that cover each entrance. You realize that the place is empty, with no scare actors ready to jump out, no one on the sets or acting out any of the scenes you remember. It’s just the two of you now. 

You feel his arm curl around your waist as he pulls you behind one of the openings in the walls. It’s one of the spaces that the scare actors use to hide in before jumping out at the guests. It’s surprisingly spacious, and there’s a door that must lead outside of the structure or into another room. You don’t have time to ponder it before you’re pushed up against one of the walls, his hands squeezing your hips as he looks down at you with hungry eyes. 

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this all night long. You were so fucking scared.” He speaks, lowering his head to the crook of your neck, and you almost gasp at the sound of his voice. It’s rough, gravelly. It vibrates against your body where he brushes his lips against you. “It was so cute.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling him grin against your skin before licking over your pulse point. You moan, the sound almost swallowed up by the loud eerie rock music reverberating in the makeshift building. Dabi wants to make you louder. He wants you to scream.

“Are you—hah—gonna tell me your name?” You ask him as he continues to kiss your neck. His hands are all over you, squeezing the flesh of your hips, running his hands over your thighs and your arms, hands underneath your sweater, up your skirt. You can’t focus on anything but his hands and his mouth and his hard body pressed up against yours. You almost want him closer, if that’s even possible, tangling your fingers into his hair and arching your body into his. 

You’re sure your neck must be covered in smudgy face paint. His mouth is probably a muddy mess, or maybe all of the paint is gone, but you don’t care. His lips feel good on your skin. He feels good. 

It barely registers that he ignores your question. “What? You’re back to not speaking?”

He’s silent, once again, pulling away from your neck to smile down at you. You were right, the paint is almost completely gone from the bottom half of his face, leaving behind the sight of scars in contrast to the unmarked skin on his cheeks. You’re panting, looking into his eyes as he reveals nothing. He leans forward to kiss you, catching you by surprise even though he was sucking on your neck just moments ago. The kiss is short, with barely enough time to feel his tongue against yours before he pulls away. 

“So mysterious.” You quip, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment of being affected by one kiss. He pulls his long coat from his shoulders to reveal surprisingly muscular arms covered in the same scars and piercings that litter his face. He continues with his vow of silence as he starts to lower himself before you, placing kisses against your chest and your stomach as he falls to his knees. His hands sneak up your skirt. “Oh, fuck.”

He raises the front of your skirt, moving one of your hands to hold it against your stomach. He runs his hands up the front of your thighs, looking up at you through thick lashes, spreading your legs even further apart. He brings a hand forward, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clothed cunt. He gives you a look, and he doesn’t need to speak for you to know what he’s thinking, for you to be embarrassed by how wet you are from just a little groping. 

He moves his hand and leans forward, pulling you by your hips and burying his face in between your legs. You feel his tongue through your underwear, gasping at the feeling, simultaneously too much and not enough. You bury your free hand in his hair as he licks you through the layer of fabric. Your panties are thoroughly ruined, your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He groans against you, tasting what little of you he can through the barrier. He pulls away and rips them from your thighs, wasting no time before he’s in between your legs once more. 

“God!” It’s not his name, but it’ll do. “Fuck, right there!”

He laps at your entrance, completely lost in making you feel good. Every moan he pulls from you only spurs him on, tonguing your cunt like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He thinks that maybe it is. 

You buck your hips against his face, fingers curling into the fabric of your skirt and pulling at his hair as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm. He runs one hand up your thigh, pulling away for a moment to slip a finger inside of you. He groans at how much of a mess you’ve become, how much of a mess he’s made you. He adds another finger, watching how easily they slide in and out of you. He looks up at you, silently asking if it’s something you like, and the moan you let out tells him that it is. You nod at him, moving your hips while he moves his fingers in and out of you. 

“Please!” You whine, missing the feeling of his tongue on you. “Need more!”

He slows the movements of his fingers down, pulling another unsatisfied groan from your throat. It’s cute how impatient you are, how he’s reduced you to such a hungry little thing, all for him.

He moves one hand behind your knee, hiking your leg over one of his shoulders and earning a surprised gasp from your lips. His tongue finds your clit again, running tight circles around you as his fingers speed up. 

You grind against his face, closer to the edge than before, moaning at the sensation of his mouth against your entrance. He curls his fingers inside of you and licks over your clit, his motions repetitive and focused as he feels you clench around his fingers. You’re close, and he can feel it, and it’s taking everything in him not to beg you to come for him.

“I’m gonna—” a strangled cry escapes your throat as he brings you to the edge. He slows his movements down as you ride out your orgasm, thrusting his fingers slowly and licking languid strokes over your clit. Hips spamming against him, you have to push his head away from your sex, breathing heavily and running your fingers through the hair falling in his eyes. He’s gorgeous when he looks up at you through a glistening grin. He rises from the ground, bringing the two fingers, now covered in your slick, towards his mouth. You whimper as you watch him wrap his own lips around the two digits, his eyes never leaving yours. He releases them with a sticky pop, surging forwards to capture your lips with his. 

It’s better than the one before, longer, slower. You can taste yourself on his tongue. He slots his body against yours as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel him hard against your thigh. His hands run up your sides, over your breasts up to your sternum. He rests one hand against the front of your neck, gently and not squeezing, just to keep you there against him. He slips his tongue into your mouth while his other hand sneaks up the back of your sweater. He has your bra off before you have any time to think, and then he runs his fingers over your nipples. 

He’s much gentler than you thought he’d be, especially under the circumstances. He has you pressed up against a wall in public. You’re someone he’s only just met, and you know you must not be the first person he’s done this with. 

But he kisses you like he loves you. 

And maybe it’s the adrenaline or the raucous music preventing you from thinking clearly, but you think that maybe he could. Maybe you want him too. 

God, you’re crazy. 

He sucks your tongue into his mouth again and you tug at the strands of hair at the back of his head. Your movements become more frantic as you push your bodies closer together. Twitching hands find the front of his jeans, thumbing the button open and stroking your hand over him. He groans into your mouth, a faint curse as he pushes his hips forward. He bites your lip hard before pulling away from you, pulling a shiny square package from his pocket and releasing himself from the constraint of his underwear. He tears it open with his teeth and rolls the condom on, reaching down to hike your leg back up like it had been before. With one strong hand holding you up from behind your knee, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, pulling another moan from you that you try to suppress in the crook of his neck. 

His lips find yours once more, swallowing the sounds you make as he sinks into you. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer as he stretches you. The stretch is almost too much, even with the mess he’s made of you, but you feel good, full, complete.

He starts slow, long drawn-out thrusts of his hips that drive you crazy. He touches you everywhere, squeezing anywhere he can get his hands on, sucking on your neck, your chest. He kisses over your face, sweet pecks of his lips to your jaw and cheeks. It’s overwhelming, the attention he gives you, the need to put your pleasure before his, to make you feel wanted. You are wanted. 

He’s getting desperate now, speeding up as he moves against you. He reaches so deep, keeping your leg hiked up with your back against the wall. You aren’t gonna last much longer, not with his tongue in your mouth, not with the sound of his own whines meeting your ears as he quickens his thrusts. 

“Please—” You beg, digging your fingers into his hips. You’re so close, clenching around him so tightly he can barely think. His eyes find yours as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to your release, neon blue clouding your vision before you throw your head back against the wall behind you. Pleasure wracks through your body as he pulls you even closer. You fall limp in his arms, feeling him release your leg and pull out of you. You rest your forehead against his as you calm your breathing.

“Think you can give me one more?” The rare sound of his voice startles you. His hand finds the back of your head, pulling away to look into your eyes. Dazed, you nod at him, watching him smile down at you. “Good girl.”

He kisses your cheek, and you let him spin you around to face the wall. You brace yourself against it, two hands flat on the surface as you feel him behind you. He places sloppy kisses against your neck, slowly entering you once more. You gasp, still sensitive from before, but he shushes you, nibbling on your earlobe as he moves in and out of you. 

“Your—hah—your name.” You whine, barely getting the words out as he quickens his pace. He groans behind you, leaning forward to bite your shoulder, thrusting in quick short motions against you. “Please! Fuck! Wanna—”

“You wanna what, baby?” He breathes against your ear. He places a kiss beneath it, peppering more down your neck as he slows down. 

“Don’t! Please don’t slow down.” You beg, pushing yourself against him. 

He leans his large frame against your back, bringing an arm around the front of your chest, resting his hand at the base of your neck. He pulls your back against him, lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna—ngh—scream it.” You pant, feeling his thrusts speed up at your admission. “Wanna scream your name.”

“‘Course you do, angel.” He coos, running a hand down the front of your body until it slips up your skirt. You feel his fingers against your clit and gasp, twitching from the sensitivity. It’s too much. You want more. “Call me Touya.”

“Touya!” You cry, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. Touya, Touya, Touya. It sounds perfect falling from your lips. You were meant to say it, meant to scream it just like this. “Wanna come. Make me come, Touya.”

He buries his face into your neck, biting down hard as he speeds up the movements of his hips and his fingers on your clit. You scream, just how he’s wanted you to all night, the feeling of pain and pleasure leaving you dizzy. 

“Gonna—” You choke, moaning his name once again. He groans against your skin.

“I know, baby, me too.” His thrusts become sloppier, feeling himself approach the edge, but not before you. You scream his name one last time, reaching your high just moments before him. He cries out after, pulling your face towards his to kiss you deeply once more. 

Realizing where you are, music still playing loudly through the speakers, your body up against a rough wooden wall, and Touya’s tongue in your mouth, you force yourself to pull away. He moves away from you, taking a moment to discard the condom and pick up your ruined underwear from the ground. You lay your head against the wall, throwing your arm over your eyes and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. 

You think about the feeling of dread from the beginning of the night, how quickly you ran from the men in masks and makeup, the fake chainsaws and knives. And now you’d been fucked by one, one you’d learned the name of just seconds ago. 

When Touya returns, you’ve fixed yourself, putting your bra back on and pulling your skirt down, though you’re still without underwear. He walks towards you, cupping your face with one large hand and looking down at you.

“You okay?” He questions, genuine concern in his cyan gaze. You give him a shy smile and nod. He narrows his eyes before giving you a sly smile. “I need verbal confirmation.”

“I’m okay, Touya.” You tell him, wrapping your hand around his wrist and resting it there. 

“Fuck,” he speaks, “say it again.”

“You should’ve told me sooner.” You say, ignoring the command. He rolls his eyes, kissing your forehead before pulling away. He takes your hand in his and opens the door beside you.

“C’mon let’s get you cleaned up, then I’ll take you home.” He leads you through the door, down a labyrinth of alleys all connected by the various haunts. He looks back at you and shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry. Your friends are probably gone.”

“Probably.” You don’t care, but you should. And you shouldn’t let him take you home. You shouldn’t let him touch your face gently or take you to one of the twenty-four-hour diners nearby after you leave. You shouldn’t give him your number. You shouldn’t let him take you out once, twice, three times. You shouldn’t let him sneak you into a different haunt the next time you visit him at work.

You do anyway. 

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

somewhere in the haze got a sense ive been betrayed

pairing: ethan landry x reader

WC: 1.3K

warnings: blood mentions, stabbing, this is a scream fic its a little violent and graphic. SPOILERS LIKE ACTUAL CHARACTER SPOILERS DONT READ UNTIL YOUVE SEEN THE MOVIE

summary: people aren’t who they always say

A/N: i freaking loved scream6!!!!! literally wrote this the day after i watched the movie. gonna try and pop out a mix of angst and fluff for ethan cause i love my nerdy boyfriend. lowercase on purpose, sorry if that bothers you. if the chase scene sucks... mind your business, just skim the words.

masterlist

“hello?”

“hello… y/n. i’ve missed the sound of your voice.”

it was like you heard the stereotypical horror movie music play in your mind. your blood went cold and your body seized up from the bucket of ice water that just splashed over your whole body at the voice of the horrific ghost face. the way he spoke your name made you feel even sicker.

“what is it now? gonna sweet talk me for a second before you start saying vile words and then pop out from a corner ready to stab me?” you took slow steps through the living room, trying to scope out where the killer could be lurking.

he just laughed, “well you do know how this works. after all, you already went through round one in woodsboro, somehow surviving multiple stab wounds to your stomach. impressive.”

the deep drawl of his voice only caused nausea to roll over you in waves. with quiet steps as you listened to the narcissist as they just talked and talked, you hurried to the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife from the wooded block.

“honestly why don’t we just do this dance, huh? i was in the middle of a very good book and i would like to get to the part where the love interest resolved their differences and had hot sex. plus i’ve done this before and i’ve been working out.” you just started to blurt things out, your anxiety kicking into high gear.

ghost face didn’t say anything back and it only caused your fear to grow. so you just hung up and speed-dialed sam knowing she always answers her calls.

“come on, sam. please please plea-“

“y/n? what’s-“

“he’s in the apartment. please get here fast… i love you guys.” you hung up placing your phone in your back pocket. you hoped to make it alive again, but as mindy said, you're all expendable in sequels.

the noise of something crashing to the ground made you flinch high in the air, a small gasp slipping from your lips. the grip on the knife readjusted to get a firmer hold as you peeked around a corner, seeing nothing suspicious. so you started to make your way towards the front door, hoping you could escape the killer before he gets you.

as just as you passed quinn’s room you stepped on a creaky spot. you froze for a second before running to the door, fumbling with the five locks. and just as you were on the last two, sweat causing the metal to be slippery, your roommate's door burst open and ghost face, dressed in his black cloak and the dirty mask came dashing at you with the classic knife held high.

you screamed and ducked away needing to circle back to the door. you were able to get a quick swipe to their bicep before running to sam’s room and closing the door closed. you took a breath until loud banging slammed against the wooden frame, almost bending the door in half from its weight.

with ghost face distracted on the door, you ran through the shared bathroom, shutting and locking each door as you entered quinn’s room. you pushed her dresser against the bathroom for extra hold. when it was in place you ran, knife still in hand, and went back to get the last locks on the door free and ready for your escape.

just as you pulled the door open, ready to dash down the steps, you were pulled back with arms around your waist and pulled into a solid chest. you screamed and kicked, the knife falling to the floor. ghost face threw you to the ground, back hitting the living room chairs. you turned to your stomach to try and go for a push-up into a run, hands tight on your ankles pulled you back. your hands scrambled for purchase on something solid.

then suddenly the most blinding white hot pain shot through your right thigh pulling a high-strung scream from your vocals. then he gave the knife a twist making the pain shoot to your spine, you felt frozen. he pulled the dripping knife out and his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you further down before flipping you over and straddling your waist making you immobile.

you tried to push his arms away, but his strength was must higher than yours as he plunged the knife into your stomach then pulled out then back in. in and out, in and out. multiple more times that you knew you wouldn’t survive this one.

you tried using your last bit of strength to push his looming face away. with a solid hold, you ripped the stupid mask off the killer's face and the sight before you taking the last bit of air from your lungs.

“e-ethan?” you rasped out, blood dripping from your mouth.

your loving, sweet, handsome boyfriend of five months now stared down at you with a sickening twisted grin on his lips, teeth poking out like fangs. his thick head of luscious curls that you would run your fingers through when making out or just laying with each other were matted down with sweat, and the urge to touch them came back on instinct.

limply you lifted your left arm from the floor and cupped his cheek, you saw the look in his hungry eyes switch for a second before snapping back into place. “e-ethan… wh-why? i- i thought you lo-loved me.” with a gentle swipe of your thumb over his skin, his eyes involuntarily slipped closed at the comforting gesture.

“i do love you, sweetheart. but i have to do this.” a gloved hand held the one on his face, you were scared and confused by everything.

“i- i don’t-“ “i need to complete my brother's movie.”

you decided if you could keep ethan talking maybe the others will show up soon and save you, “br- brother? you- you said you were an- an only child.”

“sorry sweetheart, but i lied. had to get close to you and your friends somehow, and having a fake identity helps.” he whispered, “landry isn’t even my real last name.”

your anger was spilling over the brim. ethan used you to get closer to your friends, you were just a pawn in this stupid fantasy of his. and it hurt because you thought he was the one, the goodness that you needed in your life.

with both hands you held his cheeks then slid them slowly up into his sweaty curls, nails dragging over his scalp pulling a groan from his throat and usually, you loved the noise but now all you saw was red. so with a good fist full, you pulled his hair hard and then slammed your head together.

it caused ethan to fall back, dropping his knife. with the last of your strength, you tried to slide away from him, tried to grab your phone and call sam or chad, anyone at this point. but your luck had run out and ethan gained back his upper hand.

he grabbed a chunk of your hair, head pulled back with your eyes pointed at the ceiling. ethan leaned over your left shoulder and whispered in your ear, “i did love you. but family is family, gotta stick by them. so, any last words, y/n?”

with tears streaming down your face, and blood closing off your throat, you sniffle out your last words, “i loved you too,” you said with every bit of honesty, “but you're gonna get killed like the pussy you truly are.” you seethed with a blinding anger.

and the last thing you heard was the roar of ethan’s cry as you felt the cold metal slice your throat open and your head slumping hard on the wood flooring. you died at the hands of the first boy you truly loved in this twisted world.

love does kill you in the end.

...

[quin-ns]

Hi! Hope this is the right place to request,sorry if it isn’t. I was wondering if you could write a Routledge!hippie!fem! Reader x overprotective!JJ? Some suggestive fluff with a happy ending if that’s okay☹️ I absolutely LOVE ur work btw!!🩷

Reader is referred to as John B’s sister but she’s not described and is only a half sibling so anyone can read! I want to fulfill requests but it’s also important to me that I do what I can to make my fics inclusive 🫶

Peace & Love (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Every time JJ caught himself looking at you a little too long, he immediately felt John B’s eyes land on him. He had never mentioned it out loud, but JJ figured his friend knew he had a crush on you.

It wouldn’t have been a big deal if you weren’t John B’s little sister.

You weren’t actually that much younger than him, only a few months. Apparently Big John got around more than people realized, and after he pissed both John B’s and your mom off, he was left with the both of you.

It never seemed to cause any problems with you and John B, surprisingly. JJ sometimes wondered how that was possible, but John B took pride in being an older brother and you weren’t exactly the resentful type.

In fact, JJ was fairly certain you didn’t have a negative bone in your body. It was one of the many things he liked about you.

Your whole existence screamed peace and love, and all your friends (JJ included) joked that you were a hippie stereotype. It never bothered you, probably because you knew how badly the group needed someone who could remain calm and make everyone smile.

“I got something on my face or do you just think I’m pretty?” you asked suddenly.

It took JJ a moment to realize you were looking right at him, brows raised. Not long after that he realized he’d been staring again while lost in his thoughts.

You all were at a beach party, sitting around a bonfire. Other people were milling around all of him and his friends, but JJ wouldn’t have been any the wiser to their presence. He’d pretty much forgotten all about them, actually.

He flirted with you all the time, but this caught him off guard. If it had been just the two of you JJ would’ve been sincere and told you yes, he did think you were pretty. He’d been wanting to say something along those lines for a while, to test the waters.

But he felt the pressure of the others eyeing him—especially John B—and made some lame comment about not recognizing your headband and asked if it was new.

“Nah, man, I’ve had this one for a while,” you replied, subconsciously adjusting it.

John B looked at him as if to say, “really, dude?”, but you were too carefree to be suspicious.

Kiara laughed. “You probably haven’t seen it in a while ‘cause she has about a thousand.”

“So what? I like them,” you defended lightly. JJ watched a little too closely as you lifted your cup to your lips, but it was empty. “I need a refill,” you realized, standing.

JJ almost jumped to follow you, but he was still getting stared at. You disappeared out of his view through random bodies and he felt himself deflate.

“Seriously?” John B said, raising a brow at him. “You expect me to think you were looking at her headband?”

JJ felt like a spotlight was on him. Usually he didn’t mind, but this was a little more different. John B didn’t sound mad, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if his friend had told him to back off.

“If you like her, just say something,” John B continued, much to JJ’s surprise. His eyebrows even shot up while his best friend laughed. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“Yeah, dude, you’re super obvious,” Pope chimed in from off to the side.

JJ glanced at him and saw amusement before focusing back on John B.

“You’re so not pissed?”

John B laughed again. “Why would I be? I know you, man. And I trust you. So if she likes you back then… I mean, I’ll still have to have a talk with you, but you have my blessing.”

JJ let himself laugh at the phrasing. He stood, confidence building. “Since I have your blessing,” he started sarcastically. “I’m gonna go find her.”

That’s exactly what he did, maneuvering through the crowd, eyes searching for you excitedly.

When JJ spotted you, jealousy descended upon him. You were near the keg, filling up your cup, talking to some guy.

As he headed for you, that feeling morphed into protectiveness when he saw you try to walk away from the guy and he grabbed your arm.

“Hey! Let go of her, man,” JJ intervened, shoving himself between you and the guy.

“Who the hell are you?” the guy slurred out, face scrunching up in annoyance.

“The guy who’s gonna kick your ass if you don’t walk away,” JJ warned, squaring his shoulders. The guy hesitated for a moment, looking him up and down. Then, he turned and walked away exactly as he’d been told. “That’s what I thought.”

“Damn, JJ,” you said, sounding almost impressed.

He turned to face you and calmed down immediately when he saw you. “You alright?”

“Yeah, dude just couldn’t handle hearing “no”,” you relayed with a shake of your head. A small smirk tugged at your lips. “I guess I should say thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“You don’t gotta thank me.” JJ shrugged, attempting to be modest. “I’m always gonna look out for you.”

He was being sincere, and the smile you wore was appreciative.

“Noted,” you said before a more teasing smile crept onto your face. “So… you coming to ask about my headband again?”

JJ laughed in spite of himself. He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah… that was kinda lame, wasn’t it?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “But you’re cute, so it’s okay.”

Was he blushing? JJ wasn’t sure. He flirted with you all the time, but this was new territory because of what he was about to say.

“That’s good to know, ‘cause I actually came to ask you out… so, do you have plans tomorrow?”

“Well, I guess I do now,” you replied, your smile that JJ absolutely loved growing wider. “Although, I hope you ran it by my brother first.”

[mizusnose]

Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I: pt.2

singular warning is that: the title was chosen for a reason

978 words (i’m sorry, i just didnt wanna do a pt.3)

The first time that Akemi told you about Mizu, you’d both been drunk, pushed against the plush of a booth against the dance floor. The music was loud, a thrum that you could feel in your bones, and Akemi’s lips kept brushing your neck and jaw as she screamed out: She fucks me so good it’s actually insane, and her, her fucking hands! god

It was fine, you thought, to talk so openly about sex and girlfriends and hook-ups. That is, until Akemi introduced Mizu to you months ago.

“A letter. For me?”

A sharp tug at your gut sobers you up for approximately two seconds before it sinks back into you and you fall against your bed. Your sheets are pulled up against you—Mizu must’ve tucked you in when she laid you down, your heart hummed at the thought.

“That’s..”

Your curtains were open, if only slightly. The lights off—the only source of light from the low lamplight in the kitchen right above the stove. Mizu was painted in moonlight, her edges a shadow in your mind.

The letter in her hands glinted in the dark—it was a wide yawning secret: a simple loose-leaf page folded and torn from old college notebooks, no envelope because you’d never thought of sending it or addressing it.

And yet—

Mizu’s eyes darted across the page, reading words you’d picked and written out. Her lips parted, her golden chain glimmering.

You felt like a buzzing thing, a livewire with no insulation, dipped in water and coated in no safety precautions. Laid out bare in messy scrawl and ink from a broken pen.

“Mizu..”

It’s the alcohol, Mizu’s hanging silence, the swirl of anxiety that stretches when Mizu’s breathing slows—nearly stops.

“You…your, but—“ Mizu looked up, her eyes unfocused, shoulders tight, and her jaw taut. Her hair pushed into her cheek, her flushed neck, “No. No, no..”

“Mizu, please. We—I didn’t know that—“

“Know what?” And then she was striding over, walking like a miracle, bathed in starlight. Her gaze burned holes into you, left you singed when she met you at the lip of your bed, “You..you wrote this?” Her face an instant away, a little closer and—

Ah, there you are, you think, just as beautiful as the first time.

“I didn’t know that you would..that—that you..”

“You love me?”

A hollowed-out panic bloomed in your belly. A heavy mandarin sitting in your stomach, swaying with every flick of Mizu’s stare into your eyes, then your lips, back to your eyes again.

“Mizu, we’ve got to have it out. I, I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, and I—I tried to ignore it and Akemi—and this is not, wasn’t supposed to—“

“You love me.” A statement.

Then she was gone again. Standing up fully, a tall smear against your bedroom. She sighed and looked wrung-out and exhausted. The foldings of your heart in an ache.

“No. This isn’t right. You’re..I’m—“ She folded her head into her hands then, the most stressed you’d seen her, the most beautiful all the same, “You will find someone better. Someone who is not me, I-I am awkward and too tall and I—“

“No, no Mizu, I love you.” You say, pushing your legs out of the bed, very suddenly needing Mizu to know. The sheets tangle in your knees and you stumble.

She catches you before you fall, a star falling into the earth: warm and beating in her hands.

“I am not enough for you.” Mizu says into your embrace. She looks unearthed, an anger that melts into panic, a peeled-back vulnerability.

“Mizu I love you.”

“You’ll realize and you’ll leave and I won’t—I don’t deserve it.”

“I love you, Mizu” Your hands cupping her chin, her eyes hot and glittering in the moonlight.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever have anyone. Akemi, she is nice. She is—she’ll find out too and I’ll be alone and—“

“That’s not true. You will love someone.”

Mizu’s eyes fall onto your face, a wave ready to crush the seashore, the tide pulling in. She regards you, and she whispers No, I will not. I can’t.

“You will. You’ll love them so much because that is your way, and… and I’ll watch.”

A train passes in the distance, the refrigerator hums to life once more. You gather the pieces of yourself you’ve slathered onto Mizu, her ears pink and poking out from her bun, and you say:

“and I’ll watch.”

Mizu doesn’t say anything.

Tell me I’m wrong, you think, tell me it’s okay. tell me tell me tell me.

The ocean that stretches between you both is static, a cold that only winter could bring.

She says a singular and awful thing: “I’m sorry.”

She sets you back down onto the bed, your body heavy with the wine and your mouth can still taste it: your confession, Mizu’s rejection—not obvious but clear all the same.

You feel a cloying heavy beating in your chest when Mizu’s palms pull the blankets above you again. A presence that takes your breath.

“Go to sleep.” Mizu says. She bends down, and kisses your eyelids. They flutter open as soon as she pulls away and you know it’s a dismissal.

“Don’t tell Akemi.” You stutter out. A fear that comes with these sort of things.

Mizu nods: once and slowly. Then, she’s leaving, pulling her puffer from somewhere off your bed.

The door clicks when she leaves and the moon is a dim sinking light. No longer fluorescent against Mizu’s skin.

And you lay in your bed, with your smeared makeup, and your wine-drunk headache, and wonder if you’d be allowed to tell her, to say: I’d love the mangled up bits of you, you know. If only you’d have let me.

———

:’D

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Puck Yourself

A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been a hot second since I've published anything but I've had this completed in my drafts for a few weeks now. I was planning on trying to get multiple parts to this all out at once but I've had a lot of essays due recently and continue to have quite a few due so oh well. Gotta prioritize school over this. But this AU is based off of the Lucky Charms series by drabblewithfrannybarnes. I love that series so much it's honestly one of my comfort ones I go back to a lot so yeah. Here's my own kinda take on what I think a similar college hockey AU would look like with Ari, throwing in the wild card of being Bucky Barnes' younger sister. Pairing: College Hockey!Ari Levinson x College Hockey!Bucky Barnes Younger Sister F!Reader Word count: 6,180 words Wanings: Swearing, strong moments of angers, mentions of sex

Summary: Meeting the stereotypical player, hockey boy Ari was exactly what you expected. Until you actually talk and realize he might not be all that bad. The problem is, Bucky things otherwise.

Bucky had finally convinced you to come up and see him.

It had taken well over a year, multiple breaks, and a hell of a lot of conniving on his part to finally get you to visit him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see your brother, or his school, you just didn’t really want to stay at a house full of college hockey boys. It sounded like a complete nightmare, and as you sat in your car mentally preparing to deal with it, you seriously questioned why you had agreed to this.

But your protective, occasional pain in your ass, best friend of a brother Bucky had an air mattress set up for your for two days, had agreed to pay for gas and food, and had solemnly swore to your parents to look out for you at all times. It was pretty believable, especially considering his physical size and demeanor.

As you parked your car in front of the house that still had red solo cups littered out front, a random hole in the yard, and just screamed “testosterone” at the top of it’s lungs you seriously began to reconsider everything. Right now, you could have been in your apartment in the city with your friends and roommates planning on a night out while you were on break. But instead, you were about to enter the only thing worst than a frat house: a college hockey teams house.

“Y/N/N!” You heard a shout as you opened the trunk of your car. You looked over to see your brother standing on the porch, with a smile, beginning to jog towards you. As soon as he reached you he engulfed you in a big hug that made you feel as if you were being swallowed whole.

“Hey Buck,” You replied, hugging him back. “Missed me?”“You know it,” He smiled back, going ahead to grab your bag from the car. You only had your backpack hanging off one shoulder, Bucky carrying the rest. He made it look so easy, like the suitcase was a small bag of groceries.

As you entered the house, the same aroma of every party you had been to flooded your nose. Except no one was actually here. You gave Bucky a look which he quickly read as disgust of sorts, “I promise I cleaned my room.”“Uh huh,” You replied looking around the place. There was no particular order to the couches, and literally no other furniture other than the four of them. The leather was worn and you were sure sticky by now. The floor managed also to be sticky, not shocking given who lived here. There were a couple framed photos on the wall of teams both present and past but that was about it.

“I promise, the actual living room for us is upstairs,” He told you, leading you that way. “The downstairs is really just for parties.”“I could tell, Buck.” You replied, crossing your arms as you began walking up the large stairs. “Why did I even agree to come here?” You questioned out loud. You knew Bucky rolled his eyes even though you were behind him.

“Because you love me oh so dearly,” He stated, you scoffed. “But seriously, I’ve visited your school like five times and you’re only a second year. You’ve been here once.”“Okay, well I live closer to home, in a city with stuff to do, and you were with mom and dad.”“There’s plenty of stuff to do here,” He argued back, fumbling with the key in his hand to open the door to his room.

“Mhm, like stare at the corn fields.” Now he actually rolled his eyes and you saw it. “And I’ve been here more than once! For all your championship games last year, and the year before.”“Those don’t count,” He explained, entering his room as you followed behind him. “School wasn’t happening.”“Okay, whatever.” You sighed, sitting down on his bed and placing your backpack on the floor. He hadn’t lied, he had actually cleaned his room. It did smelled like a can of Febreeze had been violated and died in there, but it was much better than downstairs. A subtle knock came ringing at his door. “Hey Sam!” You smiled up at him as he walked in, giving you a big smile back.

“There’s my favorite sibling of any player.” He said. You stood up, allowing him to give you a hug as well. “How’re you? How was the drive?”“Fine and fine.” You replied, sitting back on the bed as Bucky began making room in his closet for your stuff.

“Ya know, you’re a real trooper for staying here.” Sam pointed out, leaning against one of Bucky’s wall. You both looked at him, as he now stood with a large shrug.

“See, I told you!” You said to Bucky, “Be grateful.”“I was grateful you’re here, but I’m becoming less by the second.” He said eyeing you. You scoffed.

“If you ever need a break, you know where my room is-“ Sam began but Bucky was quick to interrupt him.

“No, there will never be a moment in time where Y/N is in your room with you alone, or anyone else’s for that matter.” Bucky stated pointing firmly at Sam. “I already went over this with everyone.”“Hey, out of every other guy in this house need I remind you I’m the most trustworthy with your younger sister?” Sam replied, with his hands up in a sort of surrender offering.

“Yeah, but still.” Bucky said, going back to clearing out part of his closet. “If Rogers were here he would be the most trustworthy.”

You missed Steve, but he was away visiting family this weekend. Besides, he had been a second brother to you your whole life, so it wasn’t as if you wouldn’t see him again. As soon as Christmas break rolled around he would be at your family’s house for a day or two to celebrate.“Damn, might as well rub salt in that wound.” Sam sighed, “Anyways, let me know if any of the guys here try to play any games.” Sam said, now looking at you. His hands were on his hips, his face now straight and serious. You nodded.

“Now you’re on my side for once?” Bucky fired at Sam.

“When it comes to your younger sister in a house full of guys that are borderline animals around any attractive girl? Yes.” Sam replied confidently. “All I’m saying is you only have so much power here, Barnes. You’re up against guys the same size and mindset as you. You’re gonna need as much backup as you can get with this one.”

So far all the guys here had been overwhelming nice. Maybe the dual threat of Bucky and Sam scared them off of you, but a part of you at least hoped they were just this naturally respectful to women (somehow, though, you did doubt that hopefulness). They wanted to talk to you about your school, what you were studying, how it was growing up with Bucky.

“So you’re the brains, huh?” One of the guys asked, leaning against the counter practically chugging a Gatorade bottle of water down.

“I guess,” You shrugged with a smile.

“That was how we grew up,” Bucky was quick to interject, finishing up one of his assignments at the counter. “She was always the smart one, I was the sporty one.”

You actually secretly praised your parents for raising you that way so there really was no competition for who was better. Each of you were good at your own things, and helped each other with the other. You always helped Bucky with homework (and still did), while Bucky helped you train to pass the one basic P.E. test you had to take.

You were munching on a bowl of chips some of the guys had set out for you, continuing to talk when the back door opened. “You comes back for once without a girl, huh?” Sam questioned from where he stood next to you.

It was pretty hard to ignore the absolute unit that walked in the door. He was a tank of a person, in the best way possible. Incredibly muscular, tall. At least 6’6, maybe closer to 6’7. His presence towered over the room of hockey boys, which was something you never knew could happen. His auburn brown hair was slicked back, the ends falling just under his ears. A beard covered his jawline, one which you imagined was incredibly defined and sculpted to perfection.

He set down his backpack which looked regular sized for him, but comically large on the floor. He turned to Sam, and in turn his eyes quickly met yours. They were a crystal blue, a color so prominent you figured his eyes must have been bleach white underneath to let such a color be seen. “Who’s this?” He asked, pointing to you and looking back to Sam. His face seemed a bit confused out of everything, with a hint of being pleasantly surprised.

“Y/N,” Sam commented, popping a chip in his mouth with a quick crunch and swallow. “Bucky’s sister. Younger sister.” he clarified.

“Ah,” He replied, approaching you with a smile that could make a line of 100 women pass out. “Name’s Ari. Ari Levinson.” He said, sticking his hand out. You took it and gave it a shake, one that you could tell dwarfed his typical shake but he went with it.

You had heard about Ari Levinson. Plenty of times from following a couple of the guys’ Instagrams and the hockey teams official one. He was a third year, like your brother. He was a star of sorts on the team, had already been picked up by a NHL team the year prior. But from what Bucky had mentioned, his parents had convinced him to stay the full four years to get his degree. And with good enough lawyers, they had convinced whatever team he was heading to to let him finish out his school and immediately hop into the sport professionally after he had a degree with his name on it.

“Y/N,” You replied. “Barnes, if that wasn’t already implied.” He gave a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I could tell.” He told you, leaning against the counter on the other side. “You two look a lot alike.”“Yeah, we got that all the time as kids.” You told him.

“I bet,” He said, his eyes trailing you up and down more slowly than what you felt was typical friendliness. You suddenly became a bit conscious at the leggings you were wearing and the fact his eyes had lingered a tad bit longer on your thighs. “The black hair suits you better though, especially for those beautiful eyes. Never seen ones like ‘em.”“Levinson really-“ Sam began but you interjected.

“I bet that’s what you tell all your girls, huh?” You replied with a smirk. The group of guys still sitting at the counter choked on their drinks as their eyes widened. You could feel Sam smiling from next to you.

“Haha, very funny.” Ari replied, a bit more stern this time. “It has a 100% pass rate though.”“Change it to 99,” You shot back, “Welcome to the bottom 1%.” This again resulted in dead silence around the room. Ari gave you a smile.

“I’ll get to you eventually, beautiful.” He said, standing back up fully.

“Gonna have to get through Bucky to do that.” You replied.

“Is that a challenge?” Ari smirked down at you, biting his bottom lip. “I love a good challenge, sweetheart.”

“More of a factual statement,” You said, leaning on the counter towards him. “I would say more an impossibility.”“We’ll see about that,” Ari said, grabbing his bag of the floor and swinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.” He added with a smile and wink before he departed down the hall and towards the stairs.

“Is he always like that?” You turned to Sam with a look of slight disgust. But Sam looked a little more worried than that.

“Kinda,” He replied, “Just not that persistent.”

“Oh?”“Means he actually wants to get to you,” Sam explained, “We won’t let him. But don’t tell Bucky, yet at least. Not sure Ari’s ego can protect him from your brother’s fist.”

You had actually frequented parties back at your last school. So standing here now on a Friday night with a red solo cup in your hand filled with mystery seltzer didn’t feel all that foreign. The only difference this time, however, was that you didn’t have your traditional friend group surrounding you. Instead you were talking to the occasional one or two guys on the team who would inevitably find a girl to their liking to go and coerce into their bed. Then when they left and you got bored of standing in the corner alone, you would go and bother Bucky who was going between working behind the bar and talking to his girlfriend, Natasha. If Bucky was too busy you went and talked to Nat and her friends, who were incredibly sweet and gracious with you even though you constantly felt like an intrusion.

“You need something?” Your brother asked, craning his neck back to see you. His front was facing a line of girls waiting for their fixing of cheap beer he was pouring into cups. You shook your head. “Bored again?” You nodded. “Why don’t you go talk to Nat? She loves talking to you.” You rolled your eyes.

“I feel like an intrusion, Bucky.” You replied, now standing next to him and taking a sip of your drink. “Like I know her friends are only a year older than me but it feels different.” Bucky huffed, handing the girl in front of him another drink.

“You can always head up to my room if you want.” You nodded hoping that was the answer he would give.

He quickly dug in his back jean pockets for his keys, fishing them out and handing them to you. “Just lock the door behind you, okay?” He asked and you nodded. “And I’ll text you when I’m on my way up. Don’t answer the door for anyone that knocks.” You nodded again, thanking him and making your way back through the crowded bodies tucked shoulder to shoulder with one another.

Thankfully the guy guarding the stairs recognized you as you held up Bucky’s key. He smiled with a nod, letting you by and away from the extremely crowded dance floor and blaring music.

As you walked down the hall you could hear laughter from a few of the rooms, and most definitely fucking from others. You rounded the corner to where Bucky’s room was, stopping at the end where his room stood and placing the key in the fob. As you twisted it to the side, you couldn’t help but to overhear another door down the hall opening. You looked up briefly, to see Ari standing there arms crossed as he leant on the trim of the door.

A drop dead gorgeous brunette girl walked out. She looked young, easily a freshman. You questioned if she was even that or maybe a senior in high school with a repeated excuse as to why she didn’t have a student card of valid ID with date of birth, but insisting she was 18. She was slim, a size four around the waist on a bloated day for her. She managed to have great boobs, and beautiful long hair. She could’ve been mistaken for a model for all you knew.

He gave her a signature smile, she asked him if he would call her.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He said but you could hear the emptiness in that from a mile away.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and ran off down the stairs, her hair slightly frizzy and makeup now ever so smudged. You sighed to yourself. How nice it must be to casually get guys like that and have the nativity to not know A. He would never call you back and B. He would pretend he had never met you even if you saw him again. Your attachment issues could never.

You pushed the door open, stepping one foot in when your name was called. “Y/N, right?” You heard someone approaching. You looked up to see Ari standing maybe four feet away. You nodded. “What’re you doing up here, all alone?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Bored.”“There’s a party going on downstairs, you know that right?” He asked with a smile and light laugh. You nodded.

“Parties aren’t fun unless your at least three shots in and surrounded by people you actually know, and like.” You replied, “I am in none of those situations right now.” He gave a tight smile and nod. “You seem to be having fun.” You motioned back down the hall to his door. He let out a hearty laugh.

“Wanna take some guesses?” He asked, taking a few steps closer to you so now you were within a foot of each other. He towered over you, arms crossed leaning against the wall.

“Not really, no.” You said in all honestly. He raised an eyebrow in question. “I mean, I don’t really do that stuff. I wouldn’t really have a clue.”“What, like sex?”“Yeah, and in turn hookups.” You replied. You were giving away way too much information right now. You blamed it on the few drinks in your system.

“You’re too pretty to have not had sex yet.” You scoffed.

“Please,” You nearly laughed, “I’m a six on a good day and I’ve come to terms with that. You just got with an eleven on a bad day. Don’t talk to me about that.” You replied, having had enough of this conversation and heading into Bucky’s room, before you could fully close the door though his hand was on it.

“Were you an ugly kid?” He asked, but as soon as the words left his mouth a face of regret took over.“What the fuck did you just ask me?” You looked at him confused as hell, hand still on the door and moving to slam it. He held that attempt back to.

“No I mean- shit, not like that.” He pleaded, one foot in the one the other out to prevent any other tries at closing the door. You rolled your eyes at him. “I mean- I was one. And it took me a while to realize that I got better looking as I got older, and now I can sleep with gorgeous women and feel like an equal to them.”

You looked at him with complete and utter disbelief. There was no way this Greek God of a man was seriously telling you how it feels to be attractive enough to sleep with whoever you want. Especially considering your struggle to find a halfway decent guy to call your first boyfriend, and your virginity that was still hidden deep somewhere in you. “Alright, nice talk, champ. That’s enough for tonight.” You said trying to close the door but his body blocking it. “If you don’t move I’m going to yell bloody murder.”“Uh huh, I would like to see that.”“You really want Bucky and Sam to come up and deal with you?” You asked, this time with a dead serious tone and expression. “Oh, and Steve when he gets back.” Ari took a long, hard look at you before backing away.

“Okay, fine. I was trying to start a conversation and fucked up. I’m sorry for implying you were an ugly kid.” He said with a sigh, standing outside the door still.

You had every right to slam it in his face, in fact you thought you should’ve. But he did seem genuinely apologetic, and for a guy that seemed as douchey as him, you assumed that took a lot of effort.

“Fine, I forgive you.” You replied.

“Thank you,” He said back, leaning on the doorway again. “Listen, I know you don’t want to do anything given your- situation.”“Watch it.” You wanted, motioning to the door as you silently implied your ability to slam it right in his face at any given moment. “But, would you like to chill out with me?” He asked, “Someone’s gonna come knocking on Barnes door soon enough begging to fuck in there and I don’t want you to have to fend for yourself in that situation.” He explained, “I’ll strip my sheets now, I have a chair you can sit on and a TV in there. We can just listen to music, chill. I don’t care if you want to sit on your phone the whole time and ignore me. Hell, I’ll give you a charger. But you are a teammates sibling, and I want to know you’re okay.”

So Ari Levinson now cared about you? The same dude you flirted in front of the majority of the team today, who just walked out with a model-level girl he would never talk to again? And he was worried about you right now, and seemed at least halfway genuine? You sighed.

“Fine,” You said, closing the door behind you and re-locking it. “But no funny business.”“None,” He swore, giving you firm eye contact. “I swear.”“Good,” You nodded at him, “And I will not be sitting on your bed regardless of the sheet situation.”“Aw honey, it wasn’t like I actually fucked her.” He explained, “She just sucked me off.” You gave a fake gagging sound.

“I think I would rather jump off the balcony here than get on my knees for you.” You replied. He gave you a smile.

“Eh, you would be surprised.”

Ari was shockingly… normal. He was actually just a chill guy with good music taste. That shocked you the most. He admitted a lot of his playlist was filled with modern rap because that’s what a lot of the guys listened to but he preferred 80s and 90s rock and alternative. It was what he had grown up listening to with his parents and something you quickly bonded over.

You had begun to talk a bit about relationships. He had opened up with how he had broken up with his long term girlfriend six months prior and was still reeling from a chunk of the effect and realizing how surface level the entire relationship felt. He also added how hook ups were easier. No commitment, he could focus on hockey and school.

“What about you?” He asked, “What lucky guys have been with you?” You scoffed.

“I’ve talked to a couple guys,” You explained, “But nothing really serious. I got my first kiss, date, all that stuff out of the way senior year of high school before college. First going beyond first base in freshman year. Talked to a guy long term last semester but it didn’t really work. I’m just kinda waiting for the right person but I also know I’m too ambitious for my own good when it comes to relationships.”“Oh, how so?” He asked, leaning on his bed as you sat in his swivel chair by his desk.

“I just- I focus so much on school and extracurriculars that I don’t really have time for a boyfriend. I want one, but I also am not great at talking to guys either. Flirting is my worst enemy.” You said, “My last kiss was over a year ago.” He nodded slightly, almost in a sympathetic way.

“I don’t think you’re the problem.” He mentioned next, looking over at where you sat. “I mean, you really are stunning. You’re incredibly smart. Bucky always tells us how much of a hard worker you are, and how you go out and are a social butterfly. Just- at our age, not many guys are looking for commitment. And it sucks for girls like you but give it a few years.” You groaned, throwing your head back.

“Everyone says that and I’m so sick of it.” You told him, “But then I look at Bucky, and he and Nat have been going strong for over a year now.”

“Bucky is also a really special guy,” Ari mentioned, “Listen, he and I aren’t all that close but everyone on the team is close to an extent. We travel together, play together, practice together, get meals together- hell we live together. And he really is a great guy. You’re very lucky to have him as a brother.”“I know,” You replied with a tight smile, “He’s one of my best friends and I’m very grateful to have someone like that who’s just built in to my life.”

“He really looks up to you, ya know.” Ari said, smiling at you. “Even though you’re younger he’s always bragging about your accomplishments and how smart you are. I mean, you are going to an amazing school. I remember when you got in he was practically jumping up and down and telling everyone.” You smiled to yourself knowing that you reacted the same way when he got into his dream school for hockey. “You’re really special, Y/N. And don’t ever let a guy, especially one like me, take that from you or tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks Ari.” You replied, smiling up at him. “You know you’re not as tough as you seem. You should let some more people see it sometimes.”“I only let people I really, really like past that part of me.” He said, “There aren’t many.”

Just as he finished saying that a string of absolute banging punches came at the door. “Shit.” He murmured, getting up.

You backed away on the chair as Ari opened up the door to reveal a seething and red Bucky. “Why the fuck is she in here?” He demanded, pushing Ari back. Despite Ari having at least a couple inches on Bucky, he nearly fell back onto his bed having to catch himself in midair.

“Barnes we didn’t do anything-““Shut the fuck up!” He yelled, Sam now rushing into the room. He tried to grab Bucky by the arms but was thrown off with ease and went tumbling back almost falling into the door.

Bucky through all his rage and might managed to get Ari pinned up against the nearest wall, his hands in fists around the collar of his shirt. “If you fucking touched her-“You had had enough of his behavior, getting up and marching over to stand right behind him. “Bucky, he didn’t dot anything. We didn’t do anything.” You clarified. Bucky looked back at you, face scrunched in pure anger, loosening his grip only a bit on Ari. “I swear, you know I wouldn’t do anything. I haven’t. Let alone with one of your teammates.”

It took Bucky a second to realize what you were saying, but as soon as he did he let go of Ari. “Look at her again, and you’re dead.” He said, firmly pointing to Ari who was still against the wall with his finger in his face. Ari couldn’t even respond before Bucky was dragging you out by your upper arm and back to his room.

You had gotten a very stern talking to that night about the dangers of Ari. Bucky was still fuming, but at least he had kept his voice down to a not-yelling level. It didn’t help all that much that you were fighting back some, because at this point you were arguing to a brick wall. But at least you were able to clarify that nothing had actually happened, and Bucky seemed to believe you. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to keep Ari as far away from you as possible.

It was their Saturday game where you found yourself sitting next to Nat in this cold arena. You had learned over the many years of attending Bucky’s hockey games how to layer and do it properly. Leggings were always a go-to, with a team t-shirt as well. Bucky had let you borrow a quarter-zip he had from last year with your last name embroidered into the top left corner. It’s size made it incredibly cozy and warm, especially right now. Nat was in his jersey, and had every right to be. Wearing a guy’s jersey was girlfriend code, not younger sister code.

The two of you were watching them practice a bit before the game. Bucky would give you two the occasional smile, you would do it back. What you didn’t expect, however, were the occasional but very prominent glances over at you by Ari.

“So, you and Levinson?” Nat asked from next to you. Her tone of voice indicated her genuine curiosity, non-judgmental, and ‘I won’t tell Bucky’ attitude of girl code. But your eyes couldn’t help themselves as they gave a roll. “Oh c’mon, there’s at least chemistry there.”“Uh huh,” You sarcastically replied, still watching Bucky glide across the ice. All these guys made it look too damn easy. “There’s nothing between Ari and I, really.”“You do know everyone heard about Buck’s little show down with him, over you, right?” She asked next. You groaned in frustration.

“It wasn’t even that!” You fired back, “I literally hung out with him for like an hour or two. That was it. Nothing else. I’m a virgin, Nat, you know that. I’m not going to just give that away to a guy like Ari.” You replied. She gave a tight smile in defeat.

“All I was going to say is Ari really isn’t that bad.” She replied. You looked over at her with a face scrunched in confusion. “He had a long term girlfriend. Like a solid two years. Treated her like a princess, really. Paid for everything, showed her off at every game like she was the trophy. Hell, he even posted her on his Instagram. An Instagram that has been a valley on emptiness since high school.” She crossed her arms, her own eyes now looking at them. “Listen, don’t tell Bucky I said this, ever, but if he offers you his number or anything… I would take it.”

You didn’t have long to think about what she had just said when the buzzer went off announcing the game had started. All the guys went back to their bench, taking their respective spots and fumbling with their mouth guards. You gave a deep sigh.

The game started and was going well in their favor. This was by no means shocking, this lineup happened to be one of the best teams in the country this year at the college level. You watched Bucky strategically on defense, a perfect fit for him. He always knew when he needed to get aggressive and not, a strength not many of these guys had at quite the same level he did. You and Nat gave each other a high five and a cheer every time he successful blocked an opposing member from even getting close to their goalie, or when he flawlessly recovered a failed attempt at a shot back to an offensive player.

When the final buzzer rang, the boys were up by four points. The all gave each other small hugs on the ice, walking off a moment later with smiles and walking back to the locker room. You and Nat walked over to their side of the ice, patiently waiting a good distance down from the locker room. This allowed for crew to come in and out and start cleaning up after the game with the already crowded hallway.

It took 20 or so minutes for Bucky to come out first with Sam by his side. You gave them both big smiles as they came up to you and hugged you. “Thanks for coming out, Little Barnes.” Sam said, letting you go from a powerful hug.

“No problem,” You smiled up at him, “I love watching you guys play. It’s very fun to see men want to shove each other with some class over a rubber puck.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You did great.” Nat smiled, leaning onto Bucky’s arm as he gave her a kiss on the top of the head.

“You ready to head out?” Sam turned to Bucky and asked him. He nodded. “Wanna come with?” He turned back to you. Before you could even respond, Bucky was speaking.“She’s coming,” He said matter-of-factly. “And don’t even try and worry about getting in underage, we know everyone there. It won’t be a problem.”

“Are you actually gonna let me drink?” Was your next question.

“Don’t act like you don’t do it every weekend,” He replied, starting his walk towards the door with Nat under his arm. “I see your Instagram stories.”

You rolled your eyes and followed right behind, Sam next to you. “Can I use the bathroom real quick?” You asked, all of them nodded.

“We’ll meet you at the car, you know where it is right?” Sam asked and you nodded, jogging off to the side area where the bathrooms were.

As you walked back out, still shaking your hands a little to let them air dry more, you looked over to see Ari standing about fifteen feet down, surrounded by a group of three girls nonetheless. He had that signature smirk on his face that would make any girl really believe he was falling in love with them when all he wanted was a solid fuck and a quick goodbye.

All three of them giggled in sync at whatever he was saying, one of them getting closer to him every couple of seconds. He was just a woman magnet, and while you didn’t blame any of those girls for finding him attractive, their desperation was a bit embarrassing.

You chose not to think much of it, walking off and towards the front door of the arena to walk out and find Sam’s truck. Just before you approached the door, you heard someone call your name. You knew better than to turn around, but your instinct kicked in without any thought. And there stood Ari Levinson.

“Hey,” He said, standing there for a moment as if you were going to continue a conversation you hadn’t even started, “Uh, thanks for coming out.”“I was here for Bucky.” You quickly replied, pointing to the last name on your sweater.

“Well, I mean- yeah I knew that-““It’s what you tell every girl that comes to these games, right?” You said with a tight smile, “I saw you talking to your groupies back there.” He took a sigh to himself, looking down at the floor for a moment with his arms crossed over his chest. His hair fell a bit beyond his ears and over his forehead, him having to push it back as soon as he looked at you again.

“I really hate how you read me like an open book.”“I’m an English major, what can I say.” You immediately replied, letting him have a quick second to respond, and a quick second he left empty. You started to walk towards the door. “I gotta go, Buck’s waiting for me-“

“Can I get your number?” He asked next. You turned around to face him again with a confused look on your face. “Please?” You sighed out loud.

“For what exactly?” You asked. “I have nothing you want. I’m not going to have sex with you, or suck your dick for that matter.”“I don’t want you for sex and you know that.” He semi-aggressively stated, “I just- need someone to talk to sometimes. And you seem to be really good at listening and advice and all that stuff.”“Really?” You asked, even more confused than before. He nodded. “I’m not a therapist Ari.” He groaned out loud, letting his head fall back in frustration.

“I know just-“ He started, now approaching you and leaning down to whisper something. “Listen, I like you. More than other girls. I want to get your number to know you better, ya know, talk?”

“Could you say it louder for the people in back?” You smiled at him as he let out a very hearty sigh. “Fine, I give up-““Just give me your phone.” You said, sticking your hand out. He gave you a look of slight disbelief. “I will give you my number.” He quickly dug the device out of his sweatpants pocket and handed it over. As soon as you typed it in, you handed it back.

“When do you leave?”“Tomorrow.”“Of course.” He sighed, pocketing his phone again. “You got any time to see me?”“What? For a date?”“Yeah, exactly that.” He replied, “We can do what you want. Coffee, lunch, I don’t care.” “A coffee is fine.” You said back, “I’m leaving at 10. Meet me at 10:30 somewhere?”“I’ll text you the details.”

[kithtaehyung]

drabble: you’re next (3tan) (m) | myg

drabble: you’re next | part one pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: three tangerines | fall drabbles masterlist | submit! rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after you get the texts from yoongi, you continue to keep goading him. little do you know that he’s still at the festival. because your brother is the only one that left. note: so… this is part 2 to the first fall drabble apple bobbing bc of this post. y’all are spoiled af what am i gonna do with you all lolll note 2: if you haven’t read the three tangerines series yet, i highly encourage you to! the side characters would make a lot more sense :D also this is unedited LOL warnings: language, dirty talk, fingering, tae is best boy, oral (f rec), haunted house, yoongi on the phone lol i’m sorry, spanking, edging, yoongi is rude?? drop date: october 13th, 2022, 9:07pm est word count: 4.5k lolll

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Yoongi [8:20pm]: You’re next :))

Shaken, you stash your phone, a large hand clapping on your shoulder the second thing that makes you yelp.

Tae’s concern is ruined by a giggle, “You okay? This room’s empty.”

“Says you,” you scoff, “Y’all just went too fast.”

He looks around, taking in the boarded up walls and funhouse mirrors shrouded in dark cloth. More random roars and screams echo throughout the building, but neither of you are deterred.

“Well. Unlike you, I’m not scared of my reflection.”

Ass! Feigning a pout, you charge ahead of his laughs, “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go.”

“What did he send you?”

“Huh?”

Taehyung easily catches up to your still form with confident strides, pointing at your bag. “I saw that,” he reveals through a smirk. “No way it could’ve been anyone else.”

Damn it.

The group behind you sounds close, so you and Tae make your way through a hallway of webs while you admit,

“He sent a fucking photo.”

“Of himself?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung brushes a dangling cobweb as he has to crouch, voice is so deep that you have to lean in to hear, “That’s actually shocking.”

“I know!” you exclaim in a whisper. “That’s why I’m slightly freaked out.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“He—Fuck!”

The puff of air that shoots right into your side makes you collide into your friend, and he catches you with strong arms while blowing out amusement.

“Shut up.”

“I’ve never seen you this jumpy!” He lets out another laugh as you leave the air-filled corridor and enter another dark room. “It’s so cute.”

“I just. He just.” You sigh, fishing out your phone to show him the thread because you can’t bring yourself to repeat it out loud.

And as soon as Taehyung sees both the picture and the text, his face releases a whole flurry of butterflies across your chest.

“That’s the scariest thing I’ve seen all day.”

“See? What the fuck.”

“You’re in more trouble than I thought.”

You groan, pocketing your phone and hearing Yuri’s scream a few rooms away, the telltale giggles following right after.

Dom also cusses so loud that both you and Taehyung burst into laughter yourselves.

Maybe Yoongi’s texts showed up on their phones, too. Since that’s the only frightening thing you can think of right now.

“What’re you gonna say?”

“Absolutely nothing,” you claim, eyes darting to the hisses and squawks around the glowing area. There’s no way you can respond right now, especially since he’s walking around with your brother.

“Why not?”

“You know exactly why!”

“Damn,” Taehyung comments, drawing out the syllable to try and guilt you. “He eyefucks you and you leave him hanging…”

“Tae!”

“I’m sorry, did we look at the same picture? He even—”

You launch yourself in an attempt to cover his mouth, but he easily swats your arms away.

“He”—a muffled giggle—“Even gave you tongue—”

Your groan is more like a cry this time as you shut your eyes in defeat, the picture already burned so hard into your vision that you still see it.

Because fucking hell, Yoongi knows what he did.

Footsteps and chatter approach from behind again, so you and Tae move forward while steam escapes your ears.

“Just send one thing.”

“No.”

“He clearly sent that without remorse,” he notes, and the bubbling sounds of a cauldron are all you get in warning before a humongous witch charges out of nowhere.

Shrieking.

Both you and Tae yell in response, amused at how smushed together and bent backwards you are when the worker retreats into her station.

“I did not expect her to be seven feet tall.”

“I’m gonna ask her out.”

After you head into the next room—adrenaline spiked into the ceiling—your friend reminds you of his persistence.

“Humor me,” he starts, and you tilt your head with lips pursed. “He’d lose his shit!”

“What do I even send?”

“Whatever’s in your heart.”

“Wow.”

“Or your p—”

“Stop.”

While he laughs, you spot a tiny sign hovering over a dark door on your right.

Bathroom, you assume? Maybe for costume changes.

“Okay, fine,” you relent, taking out your phone and knowing this could be a super bad idea. “But I’m only sending this because I’m tired of you.”

“Whatever. You love being goaded.”

Staring at your thread, you walk forward with tiny steps, wondering what the hell to say.

His picture is certainly not helping.

The only thing you can come up with is your default. The same damn concept you fell back on at the booth. Because if your earlier taunt resulted in whatever fresh hell this was, you’re highly interested in seeing what your text will bring.

Huffing a frown at Taehyung, you show him what you wrote.

And he gives you a triumphant smirk in return.

You [8:30pm]: do it u won’t🙄

After you get through the haunted house, the street is a lot more crowded, with lights illuminating everyone’s heads and distinct festival sounds embedding in your ears.

Since all of you decide that the adrenaline and scare-induced laughter will quickly turn into hunger, you head to one of the food stalls calling your noses. Which is great timing because you need a good distraction.

Because ever since you sent the text, you’ve been checking your phone periodically, both relieved and anxious that Yoongi hasn’t replied. Like your mind can’t decide which outcome is better.

It’s only after you order and stand next to Tae that you feel a message come through.

And suddenly your bag weighs a ton.

You give your friend a look before you check it, and he watches as you clutch your phone a tad tighter.

Yoongi [8:45pm]: Wanna bet?

You [8:45pm]: omg u know u can’t

Yoongi [8:45pm]: Bet I can

What the hell? If he’s around your brother being this brazen then you’re full-on dreaming.

The wind picks up, and you shiver as you type your next message.

You [8:47pm]: ???

Yoongi [8:48pm]: He left lol. I’m with Jimin now

Oh.

Your brother left?

And Yoongi stayed?

…That changes things.

You [8:50pm]: just y’all?

Yoongi [8:52pm]: Yeah

Yoongi [8:53pm]: Rather it be just us though :\

Your phone damn near falls out of your hand.

Because this cannot be happening.

What kind of alternate reality did you step into? Why is he suddenly so forthcoming you want to hurl your device into the nearest bin?

Whatever it is, he needs to quit before you run out of air.

Humming, you grapple onto reality before diving into conversation with Tae.

“It’s just him and Jimin now.”

“Now what?”

“I dunno!” you whisper, appalled that he’s left you out to dry in the cold. “You’re the one that put me up to this.”

He laughs. “I just wanted to see what he’d say. I didn’t expect to get this far.”

Groaning, you look down at your texts, wondering what the hell to do.

You [8:55pm]: just us?🥺

Yoongi [8:56pm]: Acting cute won’t work today, doll

Yoongi [8:57pm]: Not after what you pulled

Well.

Shit.

Everyone else at this festival be damned.

You [9:00pm]: i don’t recall a thing

Yoongi [9:05pm]: Uh huh

Yoongi [9:05pm]: You’re just making it worse for yourself

As your other friends get their food, you watch them go to a table before you sigh,

“Wish I could see him.”

The words come out so naturally that you even surprise yourself.

And Taehyung’s smile can be heard in his voice when he replies,

“Then do that.”

“Not here,” you mutter. “There’s way too many people around.”

“So?” When you shoot him a rueful look, he cocks a brow. “Everyone’s just enjoying themselves. I can sit with them if you wanna find him.”

Your heart skips right into Tae’s hands.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Keep it quick, though,” he says, looking towards the table your friends huddle around, eating and finally quiet. “Even though they look beat. They could still be down for stuff.”

“We stayed up so late last night,” you explain through a smile. “Movie marathons are no joke at Reia’s place.”

“Wow, thanks for the invite.”

“We thought—Well, I thought you were busy.”

“Mm. Perhaps.”

You don’t know what you’d do without Taehyung in your life. If only you were able to pack him in your car to keep during your university days.

But alas. He’s here now. And being the most supportive of your sneaky ways as he can be.

After you go up to get your food, you hold the container in one hand while messaging. “Lemme see what he says.”

You [9:07pm]: prove it then

It doesn’t take long for him to answer.

Yoongi [9:09pm]: You sure?

You [9:09pm]: i got 15 min tops

Yoongi [9:10pm]: Lmaoo that’s plenty

Yoongi [9:11pm]: Call me when you dip

Can he get any more insufferable today?

That’s plenty? For what!

Nerves buzz as you and Tae make a plan before you walk off, hoping at least Dominique understands where you’re going.

Well. You’re gonna get an earful later either way. May as well make this fifteen minutes count.

But when you’re a safe distance away in the crowd, you ring him up, wondering what could possibly await you on the other side of the line.

“Hi.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“By the food trucks.”

“Head towards the haunted house. There’s gonna be a churros stall on your left.”

A churros stall? You didn’t expect that.

“Okay.”

“You want anything?”

“No, it’s okay! I just got food.”

“K. We’ll be here.”

How you can instantly spot Yoongi in a crowd is always gonna be a mystery.

Even with his hood up and draped in dark colors, your eyes zero right onto him, watching as he grabs something from a vendor that turns incredibly shy.

And Yoongi swivels in time to see your smile of understanding, too far away to catch the way you cease breathing.

Which is good. He doesn’t need his ego inflated even more.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Looking around, you take in the rest of the line and wonder, “Where’s Jimin?”

“Getting something else.”

Oh.

He leads you around the corner, settling into a space between the stalls only occupied by trash cans and trodden leaves. A tiny nook where you can pretend that you’re just hanging out with Yoongi like it’s the most normal thing.

And suddenly it’s your favorite area of the festival.

“Those smell so good,” you notice, mouth salivating as you lean on the warm side of the churro booth.

“Want some?”

“Nah. This was expensive enough.” Grabbing the wrapping, you look around at the people passing by.

Did you say no because you feel jittery enough standing here with him? Maybe. Because the butterflies in your stomach aren’t just from getting to spend alone time outside. Their wings are still dusting bits of paranoia along your rib cage.

“Suit yourself,” Yoongi tuts, getting a full bite while observing the night crowd. The crunch is enough to make you regret ordering the subpar meal you just paid for.

After the two of you get a few bites in, the sounds of cooking and games and voices fill the silence.

Before Yoongi disrupts with two words.

“Gimme some.”

“What?”

“Your food. Feed me some.”

You gawk, almost dropping the bite in your hand. “Umm, no?”

“Come on,” he persists with a lift of his cocky chin. “No one’ll notice.”

“Are you serious?” Alarmed, you swing your neck around to see if there’s anyone you suddenly know, senses on high alert. “People could see us—”

He.

Just took what was in your hand.

With his mouth.

As you still feel the cold air where his lips touched your fingers, he swallows in triumph. “Said you were next.”

This entire night is a fever dream.

You don’t even know what to say, much less do. Your head is literally quite empty, and any brain cell you can find seems to be focused on one thing and one thing only.

“Yoongi, I swear…”

“What?” He laughs. “Thought I was talking about something else?”

“I…” Blinking, you look at his unfinished churros. “Didn’t know what to think, honestly.”

He hands you his container while taking yours. “Didn’t even send a pic back,” he points out, and you think you hear a smidge of pout in his words.

Of course you weren’t gonna. But you only offer an excuse, “It was dark in there.”

“Just one,” he says, leaning onto the stall next to you. “Just once.”

After a moment of silence, he tacks on,

“Of your ass.”

“Yoongi.”

He’s laughing! You’re drowning in complete shock and suffering and he’s full on elated.

You’ve never seen him like this. Even if you were mad at him, you’d still smile. “What’s up with you today?”

Is it the season? The weather change? There has to be something about today that’s responsible for his mood. And you want to thank whatever it is until it gets tired of you.

Yoongi just looks at you with creased eyes before huffing. “You really got me at that damn booth.”

Oh. That’s not possible.

There’s no way all of this is because of something you said.

You look away with a shy curve of your lips. “Yeah, well. You got me, too.” Turning, you poke his chest with a nail. “So this isn’t over.”

“The hell it isn’t.”

You expected something completely different to happen in these fifteen minutes, but you’re enjoying yourself as is, just hanging out and eating outside.

And Yoongi’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

Any amount of time to witness him like this is already worth it.

Your bag buzzes, and both you and Yoongi look down at the sound.

Taeee😪 [9:17pm]: Take your time. They left and I’m gonna do the haunted house with Jimin.

Wait.

They left?

How the hell did Tae swing that?

You [9:18pm]: they left??

Taeee😪 [9:17pm]: Yeah. I told them I’d take you back to Reia’s when we were done here.

Ten-thousand lunches.

You owe him ten-thousand, very good lunches.

Every single thought in your body enlarges, crowding you to the brim with excitement and outright giddiness.

Time. You get so much more time.

But the logical side of your brain is quick to remind you: you’re still out in public. There’s a chance that people can still see you out with Yoongi, especially the people looking to hang out with him, too.

All this opportunity, but what do you do? What even can you do?

“Need to go?”

You quickly tear away from your phone, and the guarded look on Yoongi’s face makes you feel the guiltiest you’ve felt in awhile. Because you’re positive your expression is giving away the conflict raging through your brain.

“No, I…”

You didn’t like that look. Not one bit.

But what do you do? What can you and Yoongi… do…

Looking back down at your text, you realize.

The answer is right there.

Immediately, you snap your gaze back to him and blurt, “Do the haunted house with me.”

“Huh?”

“Or, us. Jimin and Tae are going.”

Yoongi switches from wary to defeated when he sighs. “Don’t make me do that.”

“Why not?”

When he looks away, his lips slip into a curve of regret. “Cus fuck that. But I’m gonna if you want me to.”

Your heart throbs.

As much as you wanna see him go through the house, the ultimate plan is something else entirely. But that’ll be kept under wraps to keep it a surprise. “I’ll protect you,” is all you decide to pledge.

“I wasn’t kidding. I’ll swing.”

“No need! It’s not even a scary one.”

He gives you a look of disbelief. “If you’re lying I’m leaving your ass.”

“Rude? Trust me.”

You await his answer, not wanting to push too hard if he really doesn’t wanna do it. Obviously, you don’t wanna unearth any potential trauma or whatever. You’re totally fine coming up with something else.

But he just aims slitted eyes your way. “Fine.”

Laughing at his fake leer, you tell him he’ll be alright.

If you can get him into the haunted house, you’re golden.

All you gotta do is get him past the witch.

After twenty minutes—thanks to a Jimin that roped you into the front of the line—you’re almost there.

But the journey proves just as naughty as your destination.

“Yoongi!” you whisper, moving your ass away from another playful grab. “Stop!”

His laughs in the dark are much more potent. “Why.”

“What if someone sees?”

“All they’d do is agree with me,” Yoongi confidently answers in a low tone, and you can only see a sliver of his side profile thanks to his hood still up. “It’s too nice in that skirt.”

If only you remembered the webbed hallway as well as you recalled the hidden bathroom’s location. You ended up getting the same puff of air on your ear, which caused you to flinch sideways into him.

But unlike Taehyung who just laughed, Yoongi seized the opportunity to also hold you against him before letting go, slapping your ass to move you forward.

And paired with the darkness, your weak scoldings have only made him bolder since then. You yourself almost break before you even make it to the witch’s room.

But you hold on, cackling as much as the towering woman yourself when you see Yoongi’s fists challenge her rapid approach. When you feel him clutch your arms while trying to suppress a grin, you only laugh even harder, loving how unfiltered his actions are.

It’s almost like…

There it is. The tiny bathroom sign behind a wall of curtains in the next room.

Yoongi’s already surveying the dark for another scare, completely oblivious to your devious plan. “I swear if there’s something in here, too—”

“Come here,” you whisper, grabbing his hand.

He only looks at the contact before eyeing you, and you bite your lip to keep yourself in check, not saying another word while leading him to the hidden door.

When he catches on, the look he gives you is devilish.

“Nu uh.”

Your curve only gets wider as you check the narrow space between the curtains at the door, parting the heavy material enough to get by and head into the empty restroom.

Aside from knocking on Yoongi’s door and asking him to fuck you, this is the second most daring thing you’ve done in awhile. And your stomach has almost the same type of twists as before. Just minus the fear of rejection and broken self-confi—

Closing the door behind him in a rush, Yoongi twists your body to pin you against the nearest wall, not even bothering to turn on the light.  

Which makes his low, gravelly question twenty times worse,

“You plan this?”

Heart pulsing wild, you squish your lips before admitting, “Maybe.”

“That’s hot as fuck.”

Your mouth is smushed as you bang against the plaster, and you run your fingers along his neck while licking cinnamon and sugar off his tongue.

“Someone might use it, though,” you warn between hard kisses. “We can’t be here long.”

He wedges a thigh in between your legs before giving your side a spank. “Then hurry up. No shy shit this time.”

Moan muffled, you roll against him, the thrill of being exactly where you shouldn’t be fueling your thrusts.

Because you shouldn’t have done this.

Oh god, why the hell did you sneak in here employees could come in at any se—

“Is that all you got, baby girl?”

Fuck, his voice got a lot closer to your ear.

When you swallow, he continues with an insult,

“What a shame. Thought I taught you better than that.”

“Fuck—”

Yoongi grabs the back of your neck before devouring your lips again, tongue flicking yours while a hand wanders along your leg, your side, your ass. When he clutches what he can in his palm, he guides you in a rhythm that matches the thrusts of his mouth, and you practically melt right onto his jeans.

“There you go,” he praises, chuckling right after. “Goddamn, I wanna taste you.”

His name escapes you in a gasp. Because you feel like you’re already pushing it as is. Shit, you need to wrap this the hell up.

Shivering with nerves, you whisper, “I don’t think we can.”

If only your body followed the same rules as your brain. It’s only staying still as Yoongi loops a finger into the hem of your bottoms, shivering when he tugs you forward, and responding when he claims your lips again.

“We can.”

“You sure?”

“This won’t take long.”

His last kiss steals not only your breath, but any other arguments on your lips.

“Okay,” you whisper, hearing the sounds of the haunted house right outside the door. “Okay.”

“Now cover your mouth, doll,” he orders while dropping to the ground. Swinging a shaking leg over his shoulder, he sounds frighteningly close to your soaked panties. “You’re gonna scream.”

“We—”

Your only other warning is a finger shifting your thong—hot, determined tongue replacing it while a rough hand holds your leg in place.

Holy fuck.

You buck forward on contact, yell pushing through your fingers as a strong hum instead.

And he doesn’t say anything else as he feasts, licking along your cunt and grabbing the side of your ass with his free hand. Darkness takes away your vision but heightens everything else, and you’ve never heard dirty sounds so crystal clear. 

He’s right. This isn’t gonna take you much longer. 

It’s more than obvious he’s done this countless times before. 

Your legs dissolve into jelly when he sucks, but you feel your knees give out when the lightest of kisses are planted against your nub. Again. And again.

When did your fingers get tangled in his hair? When did your leg lock so hard you don’t feel it anymore? You don’t know. You don’t care. All you know is to rock forward, controlled by the single string that is his tongue.

Until he adds two knuckles, rubbing them against your clit and making you flinch.

A dark rumble thrums against your cunt, and you feel his body shift to… a standing position?

No no no.

“That’s all you get, baby girl.”

“What?”

“You said we had to hurry.”

“You said it wouldn’t take long!”

“Did I lie?”  

“Yoongi,” you breathe out, ragged. “I’m so close, fuck.”

“Damn.” He brushes wet knuckles against your lips, and you groan at the taste. “That sucks.”

“Yoongi, I swear to god.”

“You said we had to go.”

“I… You…” Your cunt is throbbing so hard you feel like crying. “Don’t make me do it myself.”

He gets in close, heady scent of his breath pooling across your face. “Poor baby,” he teases, one finger jolting you upward with a single, soft touch to your slit. When he slaps your cunt instead of anything else, you whine before he slips vengeance in your ear,

“You get me wet, I do the same. It’s only fair.”

Your fingers find his sleeves immediately. “This isn’t fair and you know it.”

“You’re the one that brought me in here,” he parries, and you know for a fact he’s smirking. “And I told you it wasn’t over.”

“Please.” You try your absolute hardest to tighten your weak hold. “We don’t have time to fight.”

“Fight about what?”

“Make me come, baby,” you plead with your whole chest, not wanting to play a single game anymore. “I’ll do anything, just—”

A knuckle grazes your clit, and your moan isn’t stifled by a hand this time.

Oh shit that had to be too loud—

A large palm covers your mouth before two fingers slip between your folds, and your second scream is thoroughly muffled.

“You’re lucky I fucking love when you come,” Yoongi rasps in your ear, his fingers hitting spots that light the room with stars. “That’s what’s unfair.”

Your eyes squeeze shut while you thrust against his digits, feeling the end fast approaching and outright yelling into his warm hand.

“Better hurry, doll.” His breath comes out in a slow laugh. “Unless you wanna get caught. Is that what you want?”

You shake your head, knowing that deep down, for some reason, the very idea makes your cunt throb even harder.

“No?”

Another shake.

“Then fucking come.”

His fingers lodge into your folds, spreading you open and causing your walls to flutter like mad.

And your body obeys at once, head thrown back and limbs locking, plaster and Yoongi’s fingers your only purchase from sinking to the ground. Swells of pleasure almost taken from you gush onto his digits, and his hum teeters on a growl against your cheek.

“So perfect.”

The dark continues to heighten every sense you have, and you turn your head to capture his lips before gasping for air.

Your pulses are still deep when he removes his fingers. And you already miss them as you try to straighten, legs wobbly and hands steadying on his arms.

His teasing laugh makes you pout. “You good?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then let’s go.”

You feel him move away from you, and you decide then and there that you want more.

A lot more.

Panicked, yank him away from the door, reaching for his face and pulling him onto your lips. Bold. Risky. So unlike you.

But the dark heightens your courage as much as your senses. And something about him only focusing on you makes you want him more than ever.

Yoongi’s just as rushed this time. A myriad of flavors smears across your mouth, and his hot breaths sink wonderfully into your skin. Seconds, minutes, years. It doesn’t matter how much time you have now.

This tiny stretch of time has been a miracle, and you wanna stretch it out as long as you possibly can.

When he finally pulls away, he tells you he didn’t think you had this in you. When you admit that you just really missed him, he repeats the sentiment right back.

And when you tell him you have a bit more time left, he suggests that you all swing by another prize booth.

“What, you wanna win me something, too?”

“Nah.” He huffs a laugh, and his next sentence earns him a playful shove,

“I just wanna watch you lose.”

-

-

-

fin. :) 

-

A/N: so... yes. this was a 4.5k word drabble. bc some people wouldn’t stop talking and being cute with each other and someone else just had to keep being a good ass friend!!! anyway. hope y’all enjoyed! there are so many other drabbles to come during the fall season, so get ready. i would love to know what y’all thought about this one! any feedback would be much loved :D  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here!   ++ ⇥ masterlist

[ghost-bxrd]

How do you picture interactions between Talon Dick and Kory aka Starfire?

I’ve never actually read any comics where Kory and Dick interact! And I’ve only read a little of the RHatO comics, where her art style was beautiful but she was a little too over sexualized in those for my tastes. Still kickass tho, that woman is an icon.

Anyway yeah, so canon flies straight out the window for this ask. Just felt I should mention it 💚

Talon Dick wouldn’t really know how to handle her at first beyond some friendly banter and (depending on where in the timeline we are) some playful flirting.

Kory may or may not fall in love with Dick in this universe, but she wouldnt be able to understand how close (and codependent) Dick and Jason are and try to pull Dick away from him a little. Not out of any malicious intent of course, she just genuinely wants to spend some more time alone with him (or even together with the rest of the titans. Robin is younger than most of them, after all. And Dick should get to do normal teenager stuff without watching Jason all the time. All valid things if the situation was a little different, alas…)

Dick doesn’t take kindly to these attempts and pulls away, setting clear boundaries in this regard, and while Kory doesn’t understand, she accepts it without fuss.

After this initial hiccup they learn how to get along and deal with each other much better. Kory and Dick become very good friends and a true force of nature whenever they’re working together.

Kory is the one they always keep on standby when there’s a chance of temperature/cold related missions/accidents because she’s trained with Dick a lot to counteract his cold induced hibernation in the most efficient and fast manner possible.

Her and Dick don’t understand a lot of things about human culture, so they definitely bond over that. Dick because he was basically raised in a murder cult with no healthy human contact, and Kory because she’s an alien. So… yeah, throwing looks at each other when regular people do something totally normal that seems entirely outlandish to them is a bonding experience. (They totally sit down and quiz each other on civilian people things, like how “screaming bloody murder” is just a phrase for a really loud or crazed scream and no actual blood or murder is involved. And no, casually walking off being run over by a truck isn’t something normal people can do.)

So yeah, fun times! They’re friends 💚

[elliotts-personal-property]

I Think I Love You (Joe Elliott x Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all, as promised here's the Joe one shot. Feeling super nervous rn, considering this is the first time I’ve posted my writing on here. I'd love to hear your feedback so I can improve on my writing. I'm open to any and all constructive criticism and encourage it! Anyways… I won't keep stalling for any longer. I hope y’all enjoy this one!!

Warnings: Mentions/references to making out/smut but nothing actually explicit happens.

Ps, if you really want to feel the vibe of this one shot I'd suggest listening to "I Think I Love You" by The Partridge Family while reading this💗

With love, Kris<3

-

Sheffield, 1982

I'm sleeping

And right in the middle of a good dream

Like all at once I wake up

The poor guy had been tossing and turning all night.

Joe couldn't get his mind off of you.

Just the thought of you disrupted his sleep.

From something that keeps knocking at my brain

In his eyes you were perfect. You were the only girl in the world he wanted. Of course that also meant you were the one girl, who in his eyes, had got away. The one he could never have. Why? Because you were his best friend.

For months upon months he was stuck in this endless cycle.

It went a little something like this:

He'd think about you so much so that he'd convince himself that he had to go tell you.

Then he'd work up the courage to say it.

He'd find the perfect time to confess but then start to reconsider his choice. He always would hold it back when he decided it wasn't a good idea after all.

He'd then go back to thinking about how perfect of a moment it would've been and mentally kick himself for not saying a thing.

And the cycle would repeat.

It went on and on and on.

Before I go insane

As a result of this, he hadn't had a good nights sleep in a while.

That night was different though.

I hold my pillow to my head

Something had finally snapped.

And spring up in my bed

He had known how he felt for a long time. But he had never actually come to terms with the gravity of it.

Screaming out the words I dread

I think I love you

All at once it hit him like a brick wall. He realized he truly loved you.

-

On the rare occasion that your best friend felt brave he'd indirectly hint at something more. After a while of not getting any knowing looks from you he just assumed that you were oblivious to all of his side comments. You in fact were not.

After a while you started to get impatient with him.

You wanted to shout it out loud, right in his face, "Dear God Joe just ask me out already!"

Recently those side comments from Joe had stopped. You would've said something to him if he hadn't stopped. But now you weren't even sure if he still cared, or if he had just given up and moved on. It would be stupid to lose your friendship over this. So you stayed quiet just to be safe.

It was a shocker to both you and everyone else how you two hadn't gotten together already.

There were so many signs. It was only a matter of time.

-

This morning

I woke up with this feeling

I didn't know how to deal with

Another night of restless sleep had gone by. It was worse than usual, so much so that by dawn he had already come up with a plan.

He knew what he had to do. He was going to tell you the only way he could. In the only unique love language he knew, through music.

If he was gonna do it, it had to be big and flashy. Joe wouldn't have it any other way.

He couldn't let his feelings lie dormant anymore. No, he thought, this time will be different. This time I won't back out.

And so I just decided to myself

I'd hide it to myself

And never talk about it

He had kept his feelings to himself for the past few years. Joe wanted to tell you, he really did. But in the back of his mind he worried about ruining the relationship you guys already had.

Joe loved you so much that he was willing to hide his feelings just so you wouldn't walk out on his life. He didn't want to lose you over some feelings he had. Ones that he couldn't guarantee you'd reciprocate. So, he believed it was best to keep it to himself.

And did not go and shout it

When you walked into the room

I think I love you

Joe didn't just think, he knew.

Joe was dead set on what he had to do. He just needed to get a few things sorted. First off was getting the guys on board with it.

-

Joe gathered his closest friends together. They were less like bandmates and more like brothers to him. He knew they would help him out. All it would take was a bit of convincing.

"Can you please help me out?" Joe pleaded.

He assured them about his plan.

"It's just one, and it'll be real quick."

"Alright, fine," the bassist answered for them all, "What song is it anyways?"

Joe told them his song of choice and they all gave him odd looks.

Sav cocked an eyebrow at the song choice.

"The Partridge Family? Are you serious?"

Phil chimed in, "You really think a band like us should be playing a song like that?"

Steve rested his hand on his head, "Everyone's going to make fun of us."

Joe tried to defend his choice, "You know it can't be that bad. We're playing in a pub for god's sake. It's not like the whole world's gonna be there."

The rest of the guys seemed unconvinced.

"Come on guys, you said you'd help me. Please?"

He kept on.

"Just help a bloke out, alright?"

And on.

"Please I promise I'll never ask for anything ever again."

Rick half-whispered to Sav.

"You know he's never gonna let it up. Not until we say yes at least."

Sav knew he was right. Joe wouldn't stop bugging them until they agreed.

"Okay fine, but it's only one song."

Joe nodded enthusiastically, "Mhm yeah, just one."

It was settled, they would help. Now all that was left was to get you there.

-

I think I love you

So what am I so afraid of?

The thought of telling you was exciting to him, yet terrifying.

I'm afraid that I'm not sure of

A love there is no cure for

His heart raced as he drove over to your place.

I think I love you

Joe was already cheery about just the thought of you going.

Isn't that what life is made of?

He hadn't felt this excited over something in a long time.

As he pulled onto your street he tapped on the steering wheel. It was due to the mix of both the pure joy of excitement and an ever growing anxious feeling that was building up inside.

Though it worries me to say

That I've never felt this way

-

Believe me

You really don't have to worry

"You'll be there tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," you answered with a wide smile, "You guys go on at eight, right?"

God he loved your smile. It could light up any room.

He melted just looking at you. Anytime you spoke to him he lost all train of thought.

You snapped your fingers to get his attention.

"Joe?"

"Oh- um, yeah. Eight, we'll be on then."

I only wanna make you happy

After you said yes he began going through that same cycle again. He started doubting his whole plan. Wondering if it would work or not.

There was no way he could back out now though. For the past few days they'd been practicing that song, not stopping until Joe felt satisfied with the final product.

He wondered if you would stick around after all of this.

Would you tell him to "beat it" and move on with your life without him? Or would you stay there by his side?

And if you say, "Hey, go away"

I will

Joe crossed his fingers, hoping for the best outcome possible.

But I think better still

I'd better stay around and love you

He was determined to make sure you stayed.

Do you think I have a case?

Let me ask you to your face

Do you think you love me?

Tomorrow night he'd get the long awaited answer to that question.

I think I love you

-

You arrived early, wanting to make sure you were right up front. This is what you always did. It was your way of showing Joe you cared. You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the small stage, waiting for them to come out.

Meanwhile Joe was there fixing himself up in their tiny dressing room, (if you could even call it one). It was fairly small. The owner had "renovated" one of their small back rooms into a "dressing room".

He stood in front of the vanity mirror fluffing out the rest of his hair. Joe was doing any and everything in his power to keep his mind off of the plan. He looked at his reflection as he told himself to just smile and hope for the best. Whatever happens happens, it was no longer in his control anymore.

After waiting for what felt like forever the guys finally came out on stage. As Joe got on he stopped in front of you and sent you a quick smile before turning his attention to the other patrons of the bar.

You cheered along the whole time as they went through their usual set list. It didn't matter how many times you'd seen them, you were always captivated by their showmanship.

Time always seemed to fly by whenever you watched them play.

By now you had memorized their set list and were almost sure they were closing out now, having just played Wasted. They always saved it for last and were just about ready to leave.

That was before Joe had something to say.

The cheering in the room died down as Joe placed the mic back in its stand. He adjusted it right to his level, getting ready to speak.

"We have one last song for you all tonight. We're gonna take a little change of pace if that's alright with you."

He took a glance around at his bandmates, giving them all a quick nod before adding on.

"This one goes out to a very special someone. Someone who means the world to me."

His eyes drifted down to the people in the front row, moving one by one until eventually landing onto you.

"This is for you, Y/N."

Taking one last deep breath in he calmed himself before counting the guys in.

All of them started in, "Ba, ba ba ba, ba ba ba ba, ba."

You giggled at the ridiculousness of it before fully realizing the gravity of this song.

You knew what it was the second they sung the first line.

You hadn't heard it in such a long time and had practically forgotten about it, forgotten how much you loved it. It was always one of your favorites, and Joe had known that for a while now.

All thoughts completely left your mind when Joe began to sing.

"I'm sleeping,

And right in the middle of a good dream,

Like all at once I wake up,

From something that keeps knocking at my brain,

Before I go insane,

I hold a pillow to my head,

And spring up in my bed,

Screaming out the words I dread."

The rest of the guys joined in on the next line.

"I think I love you!”

This was his confession.

His eyes couldn't help but drift towards you.

"I think I love you."

While preforming Joe tried to keep his attention with the rest of the audience equal, but he kept on letting his eyes go back to you, like some sort of magnet that couldn't be pulled apart.

If him dedicating this song to you wasn't the most obvious thing, you'd say his looks alone were enough to tell you that this was for you.

You couldn't help but feel a smile tugging at your lips. Your cheeks started to feel sore from the excessive smiling.

"So what am I so afraid of?"

Every time his eyes caught yours you felt your heart skip a beat.

"I'm afraid that I'm not sure of a love there is no cure for."

Joe really did care about you, deep down inside he did, he always did.

Soon the song came to a close with their repeated "I think I love you's" becoming more and more quiet as they faded off.

They all came front and center, taking a short bow together as the crowd in the bar cheered them on.

The girl next to you had to have already been out of it.

"You're a lucky girl, huh?" she practically yelled into your ear. You couldn't blame her though, she was standing directly in front of an amplifier the whole time.

It snapped you out of the trance you seemed to have slipped into.

"Oh-uh yeah," you smiled.

"Look," she said, swinging her arm to point at the guys in front of you.

The rest of them were making their way off, leaving through the stage left.

Joe was the last one still up there.

You stayed staring at him in disbelief, not even knowing what to do. He had finally said it... or well sung it, same difference. What was there you could do?

He tilted his head to your right gesturing off to the side of the stage, to what you only could assume led to their dressing room.

He flashed you a quick smile before sending a subtle wink your way.

If it was anybody else, you'd say you were surprised by their actions, but for Joe? Well that's a different story.

With both of her hands the girl next to you latched onto your arm.

"Ooh looks like someone's gettin' some action tonight!"

Your cheeks flushed red and you prayed to god no one else heard.

Immediately you turned to Joe, hoping he hadn't heard the girl's remark.

His eyes darted away from you. Before Joe left you saw him trying to suppress his chuckling, but ultimately failing. His smug smile was the last thing you saw as he walked off the stage.

Of course he had to have heard it, why wouldn’t he?

The girl let go of you when you told her you had to leave. She told you something along the lines of, "Have fun tonight!" before you left.

You went around the corner finding the door that you guessed led backstage. The door was locked from the inside and there was no way of getting in. You didn't worry though, knowing that the guys would come out soon enough.

After a couple minutes of waiting by the door an ecstatic Rick swung it open. The rest of the guys shuffled their way out, but with their lead nowhere in sight.

You turned your attention towards the last member to come out.

"Is he?"

"Third door to the right," Sav answered before you could even finish asking your question.

"Thanks."

He gave you a warm smile, still holding the door open for you, letting you slip through to the back hallway.

"See you in a bit," he said, letting the door shut behind you.

Even though there was no reason to, you counted to yourself as you passed by each of the doors.

One...

Two...

You felt your heart race as you got closer to the last one.

...Three

You stood there for a moment trying to see if you could hear anything on the other side. You didn't and knew it was time to stop stalling.

After taking a deep breath to compose yourself you rested your hand on the cool doorknob.

Here goes nothing.

You slowly opened the door as quietly as you could and after shutting it watched the scene play out before you.

He stood there in front of a vanity mirror facing away from you. He hadn't noticed you but you could see his face clear as day through the reflection.

Joe was humming a tune while brushing his hair. You immediately recognized what song it was.

He was humming the one he had just played. His tone was full of pure joy.

Once he was done he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to shape it some more.

The man in front of you looked fine already but seemed to be getting ready for something more.

He adjusted the collar of his shirt before picking up a small bottle of cologne. Adding just a spray to his neck and one to his wrist before turning around.

Joe's humming abruptly stopped and his eyes widened.

"Oh… you're here?"

You'd been caught staring.

At this point any embarrassment that you could have had got washed away whenever he decided to dedicate that song to you.

"Sorry, I-"

"Don't be," he cut you off.

He set the bottle down and slowly approached you, seeming to take his time with it.

You watched carefully as he took every painfully slow step.

You didn't know where to start, but knew you had to say something.

"You guys were great."

"Thank you."

You had to bring it up, you couldn't bare to wait any longer.

"That song you played. Did you?"

You stopped, taking a quick glance around, noting that it was just the two of you in the room, before finishing.

"Did you really mean that?"

His gaze softened at the question.

"Yes."

He paused before stepping closer, leaving barely any room between the two of you.

"I meant every word of it."

Your heart sped up with every word he spoke.

"Y/N I mean it."

His hand moved up to tuck the loose hair behind your ear.

"I think I love you."

You had been longing to hear those words for such a long time. Never in your lifetime did you think it would happen, but it finally did.

He said that to you, and you only.

After all this time, you heard those three words you loved the most.

"I love you."

His hand moved down to cup the side of your face. You lightly nudged your face against his warm palm. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath in, wanting to smell more of the cologne that rested on his wrist.

When you opened your eyes his hand moved down to carefully tilt your chin up.

Your eyes faced him now.

"I love you too."

This was the moment. The moment you waited forever for.

Heart racing and eyes wide you both slowly drew in closer. It felt like the longest seconds of your life, waiting for him to connect with you.

You looked into his emerald green eyes before letting yours flutter closed.

Soon enough you felt the feather light touch on your lips. It felt like heaven to you.

You brought one hand up, letting you fingers run through his light brown hair.

You felt Joe's other hand reach down to the small of your back, gently pulling you closer into him.

All you could do now was relax your body and take in the overwhelming smell of his cologne.

After what felt like an eternity, the two of you finally pulled away from one another. You already missed the feeling of his soft lips on yours.

You refused to back up from him, leaving hardly any gap between you two.

His warm breath fell on your lips as he mumbled, "You don't know how long I've wanted this."

"Me too."

Joe's hands dropped down and his fingers latched onto the belt loops of your jeans before lightly tugging at them, pulling you closer.

Your hips were pulled forward and you lightly bumped against him before falling back and resting mere inches from him.

Joe's eyes quickly scanned over your face as if he was looking for a cue of some sort.

Though you had never seen this look on him before, you knew exactly what it meant.

"Please Y/N."

That short plea was more than enough to get you going.

Your arms almost instinctively wrapped around his neck, letting him know you were okay with it.

"Come on," he said, slightly lowering himself to reach the back of your legs. He lifted you up and stepped back to sit in the armchair placed in front of the mirror

Your legs were pinned close on either side of him, resting between his outer thighs and the arms of the chair.

Without warning the two of you crashed into each other once more, desperate for each other's touch.

He hummed into the kiss, making you relish in the feeling he gave you.

-

You didn't know exactly how much time had gone by, but you knew a decent amount had passed.

Slowly, you drew away from his neck and let out a shaky breath, still wanting more. It had now been a little while since you first got in there and you knew it would only be a matter of seconds until someone barged in looking for two of you.

Your eye contact with him continued as you calmed your breathing.

Lightly pushing yourself away, resting your hands on his stomach, you finally spoke up.

"We should go. They're pry wondering what's taking so long."

Joe thought about it for a second. Seemingly weighing the pros and cons of both staying and going.

"Who cares? Let 'em wonder."

You planted one last quick kiss before making an offer.

"How about later, yeah?"

A wicked smile spread across his face, already thinking of what was to come, "Yeah."

You pulled yourself off of him and tried to fix the newfound wrinkles in your clothes. After getting up he did the same and you stayed there fixing yourselves up.

Just as the two of you were about to walk out you stopped him.

"Wait."

He turned to you.

"You’ve got a little…," you trailed off as you brought your thumb up to the corner of his mouth.

"Something," you finished as you wiped the last bit of red lipstick off of him.

Feeling content with how the two of you looked, you set off out of the dressing room and back down the hallway.

He held the door open for you and led you out into the main room.

You both scanned your eyes around the bar floor trying to find the guys.

Joe grabbed onto your hand and held on as he guided you through the crowd. He led you over to the round booth where they were all seated. As you approached the booth he gave your hand a light squeeze before letting go.

It took only one glance at the you two for the teasing to start.

"Woah!" Phil exclaimed, "What happened in there?"

"Nothing," Joe replied making his best attempt at a deadpan tone.

"You sure about that?"

The rest joined in on by adding "ooohs," sounding exactly like a group of kids in elementary who just found out one of their classmates was called into the principals office.

This was only the beginning of the never ending teasing that was to come.

Phil raised his eyebrows, "Just couldn't wait until you got home, huh?"

Joe rolled his eyes at his bandmates teasing.

Sure you had been gone for a bit, but you knew there had to have been something else causing their reactions.

You looked between yourself and Joe quickly noticing the culprit.

Though you had made sure to get all your lipstick off his face you forgot to check the collar of his shirt. The sloppy kisses had caused you to completely miss his neck in some spots and just get his shirt. The shirt in question being a white one didn't help your case.

There was no sense in trying to rub it off now, and not like you could anyways.

Rick and Sav scooted around to make room for you and Joe.

As you sat down you both noticed all the other guys were already starting their night off with their drinks in hand.

Joe looked around at each and every one of them, "You started without us, aye?”

"We waited for a little while, but you guys took too long," Sav replied.

Joe turned to face you, "How 'bout a round?"

You smiled, "Sure."

-

Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you liked it💗

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

NCT Spooky Season [Day 1]

The Hill House

TW: Ghosts Genre: Romance Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 1.3K Prompt: Even in death, they did not part.

[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: Spooky season is officially here! And since I skipped 20 days of NCT for Christmas last year, what the hell, why not do spooky season instead? Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

“Haven’t you guys heard of the ghosts of the house on the hill?” Mary’s voice had a telltale tone. She turns on the flashlight beneath her face and her friends gasp in surprise, two of them holding hands and the other rolling her eyes.

“Don’t be so scared, it’s just a story our parents tell us so we don’t play there, it’s dangerous!” Stacey grumbles.

“Whoa, what story are you talking about?” Mary huffs. “The one I know is so different. I heard they’re a husband and wife!”

“Ghosts are still scary!” Jesse shakes in his spot.

“No, no! We have to see them! They only come out on the full moon! What better than now in October?” The girl grins. Jesse sinks into his seat and Helena covers her eyes.

“No way! Too scary!”

“Let’s go!”

“No!”

~

“My mom is going to kill me,” Jesse holds the flashlight for Mary, who is now trying to pick the lock with a stick she found. Somehow Mary had convinced them all to go to the house on the hill but, shockingly, it didn’t look all that haunted. It just looked like a house. The walls were painted a soft blue with white trimmings, and the dark wood rooftop seemed to be the only thing that would make the home scary. Even the windows all had light curtains on the inside of them.

“Are you sure this place is haunted?” Helena asks.

“Yes, shh!” Mary waves them off. Helena and Stacey stood behind them, waiting with baited breath and soon the lock clicked.

“Got it!” Mary grins.

“Hello?” A voice speaks above them and the four children start screaming. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s wrong? No need to be afraid!” You bent down to their level. “It’s a bit early to be trick or treating,” you chuckled.

“We’re here to see the ghosts!” Mary exclaims and your eyes widen slightly before your face relaxes into laughter.

“Ghosts, huh? I can’t say I’ve met any since my husband and I have moved in here,” you looked behind you. “Say… did you want to have an investigation?” You nudged your head inside and the kids excitedly nodded. You stood up and opened the door wider so they could run in.

“Ghosts! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Mary sings. The house, surprisingly, didn’t look haunted at all. Maybe straight out of the past, but definitely not as scary as the adults put it.

“They’re not going to appear if you’re loud like that,” Stacey shakes her head. She looks into the old mirror for a while, watching her friends run around the foyer through it, but shakes her head after a while.

“Maybe they like to hide,” Helena looks under the table, picking up an old newspaper to look between them.

“Hey, where would you look for ghosts?” Jesse turns behind him toward the door, but you weren’t there anymore. A chill rushes down his spine and he runs to catch up with his friends. “I don’t like it here, let’s go!” He tries to tug Mary’s sleeve.

“It’s fine, stop being a baby!” She groans. The four stop in front of an office room, seeing a man seated at the desk. He looks up from his book and adjusts his glasses.

“Now what do we have here?” Jaehyun leans forward on his elbows and the children stay frozen in place. “My partner taking in strays again?” He says with a soft smile.

“Oh, don’t be like that, they’re investigating the ghosts in our house,” you said behind them. The kids turned quickly, with Jesse jumping in his shoes and grabbing onto Stacey.

“Let me go,” she shrugs him off.

“Ghosts? That’s not good, I wouldn’t want them in my home,” Jaehyun shakes his head, now standing at the other side of the kids. “Take your time, then, let me know if you find any,” he says.

“Yeah!” Mary pumps her fist in the air.

“Why I don’t I make you food while you investigate? All that running around is bound to make you all hungry,” you offered.

“Yes, please!” The four smiled.

~

The four stuck together in the home, looking through every nook and cranny and investigating anything that looked suspicious but, still, no ghosts. Maybe a couple of old pictures of you and your husband and a few keepsakes of yours but nothing to indicate ghosts, that’s for sure. And the house still didn’t look haunted either! All the wood was polished and the furniture dusted off, there was no way ghosts could live here at all.

“Golly…” Mary sighed at the dinner table, sadly biting into her sandwich. “No ghosts.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” you walked in with your husband and sat at the front of the table. He presses a quick kiss to your hand and a chorus of “Awws” and “Ewws” resounded. “Where did you hear of these ghosts anyway?”

“Our parents,” Stacey shrugs. “But I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“Really?” Jaehyun sounded surprised.

“Nope,” Stacey shakes her head. “But these scaredy cats do,” she looks at her friends.

“Aren’t you going to eat too?” Helena asks quietly. You and Jaehyun look at each other and shake your heads.

“Oh, don’t worry about us, hon, we just ate before you came in,” you nodded. Yours and Jaehyun’s hands were folded on top of each other while the kids conversed. “Say, Mary,” you waited for the girl to look at you.

“Yeah?” She says with the sandwich in her mouth.

“How’s your grandpa?” You ask her, head resting on one hand.

“Grandpa Mark? Oh, he’s good,” she nods.

“And Jesse, how about your grandpa?” Jaehyun asks.

“Grandpa John or Grandpa Leery?” He asks.

“John.”

“I think he’s good, I haven’t visited in a while,” Jesse kicks his legs.

“Oh, and I know your grandmother’s business is doing well, right Helena?” You asked her next and she responded with an exaggerated nod.

“And how about your grandmother, Stacey, is she well?” Jaehyun asks. Stacey narrowed her glance and took a suspicious bite of her sandwich.

“Yeah… she’s fine,” she answers, somehow being the only one to catch onto whatever game you were playing. Then the chimes of a grandfather clock resounded.

“Oh, that late already?” You looked out with window. “You all should go home now, your parents will be worried,” you ushered them to the front door. “Thank you so much for visiting us,” you smiled.

“Yeah! It was really fun! Too bad there’s no ghosts though,” Mary kicks aside a branch on the porch.

“Do come visit again,” Jaehyun says behind you. 

“Aren’t you guys weirded out?” Stacey speaks so that only her friends can hear.

“I think they’re just really nice,” Helena responds.

“What do you mean? We never told them our names!” Stacey nearly shouts. Then they heard the door slam shut. And, out of pure curiosity, Jesse turns around and feels his heart freeze, and his gasp is what caused the other three to turn around.

Behind them, the house was in shambles. The roof had caved in and the windows were shattered, the door was even boarded shut with the words ‘Do Not Enter’ spray painted on it.

But, through the only intact window, they could see you and your husband inside, a fireplace glowed next to you both, and a muted song played while you both seemed to float around the foyer. You both caught their glance and raised a finger to your lips before a gust of wind rustled the tree's leaves over the window, blocking it from view and once it had settled, there was only a dark room inside.

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @minjiville 

If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have a rec list of fics where Louis, Harry, or both of them have pets. This is a great group of fics, so please be sure to check them all out and show the authors some love! If you enjoy our rec lists, please also like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Maple | Mature | 5,255 words

Prompt 30: Louis is crazy about animals, so Harry is determined to get him all the pets he wants even if they are unconventional, like a baby goat. Louis is over the moon when they get to adopt a goat family, but there’s one little problem, and that is the goat not liking Harry…or even letting him get close to Louis. At first it’s all endearing fun and games, but when it starts affecting their sex life and Harry’s dick feeling neglected, he’s determined to try win over the goat so he let him be with Louis. It’s easier said than done - who knew goats could screech that loudly? (Tip: google goat screaming to get an idea how loud.) ***Change to a cow, I hope that is okay.

2) At The End Of My Rope | Mature | 5,608 words

"Baby?" Harry mumbles, voice laced with sleep and a shiver goes through Louis at hearing the term. He hasn't called him that in so long, in that voice and, clearly, even Louis' body fucking misses it. "Did you cheat on me?" Louis finds himself asking. If he's being honest it's more so he can see Harry's reaction, than a genuine question, but what has he got to lose? Sure enough, Harry's face changes from sleepy to the most incredulous look Louis' ever seen on him. He actually looks terrified, all wide eyes, mouth gaping like he can't believe Louis would even assume that and Louis would laugh at it, but he's so done with the way Harry's been acting, he just wants to know what the hell's going on.

3) If This Room Was Burning | Explicit | 8,629 words

Where Louis' cat gets stuck on the roof and Harry is the firefighter who ends up saving her.

4) I Built This Bed For Two (I Built This Bed For Me and You) | Explicit | 8,942 words

Harry and Louis broke up after uni and haven't seen each other since—until they're roped into doing a Buzzfeed video together. Featuring awkward cuddling and a reunion that just needed a kick in the arse, gleefully provided by Niall.

5) Glistening Under The Sun (You’re My Honey Soaked Love) | Mature | 8,996 words | Sequel

“Oh Petal,” he picks her up nuzzling the top of her head with his cheek as she nibbles on the lavender, “How lucky are we? I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy, the only thing we have to be sad about is that soon I won’t be able to hold you like this,”

6) Candle Wax & Polaroids On The Hardwood Floor | Explicit | 13,082 words

Prompt 463: Clumsy modern witch Louis AU where he accidentally gives his roommate Harry a love potion and he has a crisis because he thinks he will get in trouble with the law for technically poisoning someone and Harry’s heart eyes aren’t helping.

7) A Vivid And Wistful Melody | Explicit | 13,137 words

"Slowly, he takes his violin out of its case, listens for a few more minutes to Louis’ flute, before joining him as best as he could. The flute stops for a few seconds, and Harry imagines Louis blinking cutely, taken aback, before huffing with a smile, and starting to play again, on a suddenly far happier tune. Harry closes his eyes as he twirls around the living room, violin in hand and music filling the air. He pictures Louis doing the same in his own flat while being careful as to not step on his cat. Somehow, even with heavy eyes and tired limbs, this is the happiest Harry has ever felt in years."

8) Absolutely Smitten | Mature | 20,120 words

Louis is walking his dog. Harry is walking his cat. Leashes get tangled, and feelings too.

9) I Didn't Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) | Explicit | 20,681 words

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course. Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

10) Nocturnal Creatures Are Not So Prudent | Mature | 24,558 words

Louis is a white witch with a little black cat named Hemlock and a best human friend Liam (they're a lot like Samantha Stephens and Louise Tate). When he's dragged out to a new club Liam's heard about from a friend and classmate, Louis comes face to face with that which witches do not touch: a charming vampire by the name of Harry.

11) Weightless | Explicit | 25,332 words

Harry is the best dragon racer the world has ever seen and Louis is an almost-vet who feels like he is carrying the weight of the world.

12) A Common Place Affliction | Explicit | 36,508 words

“You should go home,” Louis muses, and Harry can feel the omega crouch down to become eye level with Harry, poking his cheek with a dainty finger. Harry lifts his arm, taking a peek at Louis’ face. Louis looks tired, he notes, but not exhausted, and there’s an eyelash stuck to his cheek. Harry doesn’t hesitate to lazily reach out and thumb over his cheek. “Can’t,” Harry croaks, blindly twisting his hand around to grab at Louis’ offending finger and just holding it. “C’mere. Take a nap with me,” he asks after a beat, opening an eye to look at Louis. Louis raises an eyebrow. “M’not going to nap with you in the middle of the ER, H.” Sighing, Harry squeezes the young nurse’s finger. “Nobody cares.” He knows they do; they’ll annoy nurses and probably worry patients when they catch sight of a nurse and surgeon sleeping on the job. Let alone in the middle of the emergency ward hallway. Harry can hear the complaints now: ‘these are the people we’re supposed to trust with our lives?’

13) You Wish I Was Yours And I Hope That You're Mine | Explicit | 36,992 words

The one where Harry's a bit strange and Louis doesn't give up easily. Of course, they fall in love.

14) Give Me Love | Explicit | 41,041 words

Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

15) This Glass House | Mature | 43,072 words

While deployed, Alpha Harry gets injured by an IED explosion, leaving him to deal with severe injuries in its devastating aftermath. During his road to acceptance and recovery he learns with the help of Louis and their children just how important family can be for the mind, body, and soul.

16) Breakable Heaven | Mature | 44,594 words

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath. “I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.” “You must not have met many creatures then.” Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. “None like you.”

17) Yesterday Came Suddenly | Explicit | 48,504 words

They don’t talk about it. The way Harry deflects any and all questions about his past and Louis pretends he isn’t confused or hurt by it. The way Harry keeps a distance between them and Louis acts like he can’t see it creating a wall between them. The way Harry doesn’t always answer honestly and Louis goes along with it as if he can’t tell. They don’t talk about it. Harry knows Louis feels like he doesn’t know him well enough, and it pains him. It pains him every time Louis gets that look on his face that’s a mixture of disappointment, frustration, and confusion. And sometimes, self-blame. It pains him because Louis is wrong. Because even though there is a lot Louis doesn’t know about him, there is so much that he does. He knows what Harry is like at his most vulnerable: curled up on this bed with him in the dark where it’s safest. He knows Harry in a way no one else does.

18) So Much We Didn’t Say | Mature | 53,584 words

Harry’s near fatal accident exposed the cracks in his and Louis’ eleven year marriage. A serious error in judgement by Louis shattered it completely.

19) Secret's Safe With Me | Explicit | 59,208 words

When bad turbulence and three glasses of wine have Louis spilling all of his secrets to the man sitting next to him on the plane, it's embarrassing, sure, but it's also easy enough to shrug off and block out of his memory forever. Or at least, it was until Louis went into work on Monday morning and realized that the man from the plane is the new CEO of his company.

20) Tug-Of-War | Explicit | 63,000 words

Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

21) Sweet Creature | Explicit | 78,282 words

Prompt: "You're having a nightmare and I feel bad because you're trembling and crying so I crawl into bed with you and hold you so you feel safe, but in the morning you wake up with my arms around you and you're really confused and embarrassed."

22) Elysian | Mature | 81,886 words

Harry is running out of time to fall in love, but with Louis, it seems as if there’s all the time in the world.

23) Beautiful War | Mature | 103,379 words

Five years ago, Louis was nearly the next victim in a string of murders plaguing Portland, Oregon. He managed to escape and the Angel Killer was apprehended and sent to prison. Now, Louis' a best-selling author that assists state police with minor cases. He still suffers from the events of the days he'd been held hostage, but he's found ways to cope. That is, until the killings start up again. A body was found in the woods. A body that bared the same signature the media had dubbed: The Angel of Death. Special Agent Harry Styles leads the case, and he doesn't buy into the clairvoyant bullshit that Louis spewed to save face five years ago. He's certain that Louis Tomlinson was involved. Until they meet, and they're both left questioning everything they'd thought to be true.

24) Only You Can Be My Alpha | Explicit | 212,387 words

In a world where one was either an Alpha or an Omega wolf, Louis found himself in a body that could be neither. Born an Omega without the expected characteristics of one, he felt broken, choosing to live as Alpha a lifestyle as he could. Harboring a serious lack of respect for Alphas and their authority complexes, Louis managed to get himself banished from his home, forced to wander the unforgiving woods for years, facing the elements and fighting enemy rogues each time they arose. Unbeknownst to Louis, in a tribe to the southwest of his home, there lived a dysfunctional Alpha, the orphaned pack leader Harry, who had never felt satisfied enough with anyone to settle down and continue his royal line. Living their lives apart thus far, the both of them assumed that they might be alone forever, making the best of things despite this even though it hurt. Chance, luck, or maybe fate brings Louis to this tribe when he’d least expected to receive kindness and shelter from a stranger, and when he arrives, something in his soul pulls him to Harry like a raging river current. The two don’t get off to a good start, but everyone around them can sense the chemistry—and in time they do too.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[wander-wren]

small things to stop doing in your fics

(or any kind of writing, but i live on ao3. we begin with flat-out crimes and then slowly start moving into things that just bug me personally but aren’t wrong)

epithets. if i’ve said it once, i’ve said it a thousand times. you should only be using epithets for characters whose names we do not know. they can also be used VERY rarely to break up the repetition of names/pronouns or to emphasize characters’ relationships/viewpoints, ie “his boyfriend” or “the asshole.”

writing out accents. please stop. you can include a couple of small things, like “somethin’” or “ya” (for “you”), but even keep that to a minimum. specific turns of phrase/references go way farther imo to establish a character’s culture/background/etc. a little goes a long way, and doing it repeatedly can make sentences hard to parse. this also! applies! to children and babytalk! have you ever listened to a child speak? toddlers can enunciate pretty well!

not enough commas. put commas before names and titles. it’s not “Hey John” or “I’m on it captain,” it’s “Hey, John” and “I’m on it, captain.” also, put them after discourse markers/interjections such as “well,” “so,” and “now.” you should be writing “So, how are the kids?” not “So how are the kids?” even if your character is speaking quickly, you still want the commas because of grammar. it can occasionally be acceptable to omit them if you want to indicate extreme excitement/panic/anger/etc, but use it sparingly.

too many commas. i’m a comma fiend like the rest of you so i’m guilty here too, but we gotta at least stop with the comma splices. commas split and independent and dependent clause, meaning that one part of the sentence cannot grammatically stand alone. if all parts are complete sentences on their own, that’s a comma splice. try splitting it into two sentences, using a semicolon, or rewriting. this is usually fine in dialogue, though, that’s just how people talk.

also, using a lot of commas to denote panic is something i used to be HUGELY guilty of and now i hate it. instead of, “I, I, I don’t, I don’t know,” you can try, “I-I…I don’t—I don’t know!” probably not that much punctuation that close together, but for the sake of example. emdashes and ellipses, my beloveds 🫶

roleplay speak. i don’t know what else to succinctly call this? i’m referring to the tendency to be redundant and over-explain, especially in dialogue. it’s a phenomenon i see constantly in rp circles, usually because of post length requirements (and i have little issue with it there, it’s just the culture). things like:

“Surprise!” Adam shouted, popping out from behind the door.

“Oh my god!” Scott screamed, having been completely startled and not expecting Adam to be home yet.

yeah, we can guess that Scott is startled, right? because of the screaming? and clearly if Adam is surprising Scott it stands to reason his presence is unexpected? why are we stating this twice?

i believe this also comes from the mistaken idea that every line of dialogue needs a tag attached, which is….horrible. you can let the dialogue exist on its own sometimes, friends. you can also include an action beat without a tag. like above, i could have just said “Adam popped out from behind the door” and omitted the shouting altogether. we can assume he is being loud because that’s usually how people do surprises. anyway. moving on.

condescending to readers. this isn’t so much about writing as it is author’s notes and the like, and “condescending” may be a strong word, but i’m trying to be succinct. at any rate, please stop telling your audience to not read your fic? “do not read if sensitive to [blank]” or “if you have [disorder] skip this fic!” is a horrible way to trigger warn. people know their own boundaries. tell them what the work actually contains and let them self-select.

i also find “rest stop/check-in” type notes condescending, like “if you are reading this between the hours of 10pm-4am, go to sleep” and “STOP! have you eaten/drank/walked around in the past few hours? go do that!” again, we know ourselves. i’m not your kid, don’t tell me what to do. i don’t mind a polite, casual little “thanks for reading, remember to drink water and take your meds, bye” note, though.

the others in this category? i will straight up not read the fic over that on some days. ESPECIALLY because, in my experience, the people who are most intense about warning for every little thing are the ones with the mildest fics, and that’s not what i’m here for.

complaining about your own wrong tags. this is, admittedly, such a nitpick, and it definitely is more common in certain communities than others. but as longtime followers may know, i’m a bit obsessed with ao3’s tagging system and it drives me BONKERS when people use the wrong tags and follow it with “not actually but there’s no tag for xyz.” here’s the thing: you can still look at all the works that have ANY tag, just the non-canonized ones can’t be filtered on. and the best way to get a tag canonized is, guess what, to USE it! imagine that. also, if you’re using the wrong tag, you’re just going to clog the filter results and get people who don’t actually want to read your fic. just stop.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Carlos-in-Glasses Goes to Paris

For prosperity I’ve written up my experience of the First Responders Reunion Convention – which is my first convention experience. And what an overwhelmingly good and stressful time it was. Under the cut is my attempt to capture my memories and the essence of it, rather than a transcription of panels and meeting rooms, as others have already done the good work (or will be). I hope you find this interesting and useful if you do read, and if you have any specific questions (including about travelling alone/logistics/issues I had) I’ll do my best to provide a coherent answer.

I am very tired and this is slightly manic but here we go:

Friday: If you are among those who waited in line for three hours to register for the convention, even if I did not see or interact with you….I feel we are spiritually bonded forever by the experience. Blimey, crikey, and bloody hell. It was not clear at all how long the wait would be, but I was not expecting that! However, there was an undeniable thrill in the air. I was in pain all over, yet happy. By the late evening, dinner was half a tube of Pringles and a glass of red wine.

Saturday: Breakfast was four croissants. I actually recommend this because they really did carry me through until lunch. Not long after arriving, we were milling about in the lobby waiting for the opening ceremony to begin - when Ronen walked past up on the mezzanine/ balcony thing, waving to us, all fabulous and just….there in the flesh?!!!...and revealing his hair. We’d speculated that he’d dyed it pink or the bisexual pride flag colours, or “wouldn’t it be funny if it’s just brown?!” And it was brown! And it WAS Funny.

The opening ceremony was a trip lol. Holy shit. They played a music video compilation of the actors from each show (I never want to hear How to Save a Life by The Fray ever again. Jk jk don’t come for meee). There was an undulation of incredibly loud screaming whenever particular actors popped up on screen, so it was like being on a rollercoaster that wasn’t moving. Adrenaline was high by the time all the actors walked out on stage and say hello. It’s hard to explain exactly how bonkers it is to be in the same physical space as Ronen, Rafa, Sierra and Natacha and see their non-TV dimensions… TANGENT TIME:

….Speaking of dimensions! I tried to pay close attention to the height difference between Ronen and Rafa, but it’s also an optical illusion in real life? FYI, I’m 5 ft 7 – Ronen didn’t seem massively taller than me, Rafa did seem massively taller than me; next to each other it was like there was nothing in it. But in my photos they’re both much taller than me and Ronen looks slightly the biggest I think 🤔 So I have no clue what’s going on. In fact, I’m more confused than ever.

After the opening ceremony (which I fled from because fuuuck) I was waiting around due to rocking up early for my meeting room by accident. The schedule was a confusing design and I was far from the only person who was doing a sort of 'hit-and-hope' when it came to figuring out where to be and when, especially as things almost immediately overran, so other activities got moved around/ postponed. ANYWAY – Ronen walked right past with a member of staff who was instructing him. I overheard him tell her “It’s okay…I’m a pro at this.” He really did wander around like he owned the place. At one point he strolled through the lobby with an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

My first activity was the meeting room with Ronen and Rafa (ie. a group of a set number of people in a room with actors for half an hour). By chance it turned out that I was sitting almost right next to them, with a gap left for the door between us. So, super close. And obviously they were both mesmerising. This was the meeting room where Rafa said “To catch the murderer, Carlos has to behave like one”, and explained that Carlos would have to murder parts of himself. His emphasis was on how Carlos’ innocence has been taken from him because his father’s life was stolen. For what it’s worth, I interpreted this as Rafa viewing the whole thing very much from an dramatic actor’s standpoint, and how he needs to get into the mindset of Carlos’ particular grief metaphorically, rather than meaning anything literal. He speaks quite intensely and thoughtfully and his choice of words is often bold. For anyone concerned about it, just remember he was asked a question and responded off the cuff the best he could in the moment, with limited time. He doesn’t write the show and I guess he’s making assumptions based on how season 4 left off, like the rest of us, unless he’s had very specific conversations with Tim (which, maybe! But he wouldn’t be able to give anything away. We don’t know anything). Then, when Ronen brought up TK dying (because Ronen always dies in the films/TV he does – using an axe to the chest as an example) it was pointed out that Tarlos is endgame, so he can’t die. Cue Rafa being like “Carlos could die with him! They die together!” I was like goodness me lads it’s early in the morning for this. I needed a brandy afterwards.

Next up was my Tarlos Duo Photoshoot. As noted above, everything had fallen behind schedule, and things were starting to get switched around. Honestly, it was confusing, daunting and stressful (please note: Am VERY easily confused, daunted, and stressed). But thanks to the power of following others and asking questions, I ended up where I needed to be. When it was my turn, Rafa immediately and warmly put his arm around me to pose but Ronen was talking to a staff member, so Rafa and I were just… touching each other for a good few seconds before Ro joined us! I took the opportunity to thank Rafa for doing this for us, but I can’t remember how he responded. Then the photo was taken. I told them they’re both amazing, they said “aw thanks” at the same time, and again I fled the scene. As there are so many people, the shoot you have is super speedy. I advise really trying to keep your cool even though it’s a highly flustering situation. You don’t want it to become a total blur or something you regret, because it really is lovely to be next to them and quickly say a few words and get a keepsake afterwards.

My next activity was autographs and selfies with Natacha and Sierra. A super lovely thing. I gave them cards I'd written (as I also did for Rafa and Ronen the next day). Sierra was an absolute highlight for me. Just the warmest, kindest person. A total joy. She opened her card in front of me and I was like nooooo don't. It truly felt like she’d come to the convention for the opportunity to meet us, rather than the other way around. She told me she liked my outfit and said I look beautiful in pink. Similar to what I said to Rafa, I thanked her and told her I can’t imagine what it’s like for them to do this, expecting her to quickly say “oh you’re welcome” or something. But she started having a mini-philosophical conversation with me about the nature of fame and fandom! Then she said “it is overwhelming in the best way” because she gets to see the human heart behind all the messages etc (I’m paraphrasing). I said “it’s all about love” and she said “yes! It’s all about love, absolutely.” She was a true delight. And Natacha is a blast. She also complimented my pink outfit and I was like ???? Thanks????!!! Gahhh. The selfies came out way more flattering than the photoshoot. The lighting. Oof.

The last Saturday thing for me was the panel with Ronen and Rafa. It was quite brief but there were some real gems. Rafa saying he only has eyes for Tarlos. Ronen saying “Safe in their apartment holding on to each other. I think Carlos is TK’s honeymoon.” I melted. I let our an audible aww.

Sunday: The first thing was a Lone Star quiz in the panel room with Natacha and Sierra. They were so fun and such good sports. Then it was the Lone Star panel, where Natacha, Sierra, Ronen and Rafa were all on stage together answering fan questions. It was really nice to see them all interact, banter and laugh together. Sierra made a point of saying they’re all close in real life and hang out in their free time. There was a great vibe between them and such a good atmosphere in the room. I loved it when Rafa told Ronen that he was out of rhythm when it came to learning the pilot episode line dance; Ronen argued that he smashed it and there's video evidence. Rafa's response was "Sweetie, no."

I then had the autograph and selfie sessions with Rafa and Ronen, but because the Lone Star panel overran, suddenly Ronen had his photoshoot session instead, so I had a clash between going to that or staying downstairs for Rafa. I was trying to figure out what to do until the queen that is @actuallysara got some clarity from a staff member and we went up to Ronen, but by that point the upper level by the studio was crowded and chaotic. Be advised to prepare for disarray if you’ve never been to a convention before. It might be that you experience no scheduling issues or confusion, but just be prepared for the advent anyway. As it happened, I was through quickly for my photo with Ronen – again thanks to Sara locating the door! Ronen, hungover, was wearing his sunglasses, so I wore mine. He did a dumb pose without saying anything; I grinned at the camera and then thanked him and ran off again to get back downstairs where Rafa was still signing autographs. I got to tell him he plays my favourite character of all time and we took a selfie I really love ahhhh. Then Rafa had to leave for his photoshoot – which was my next thing – so I ran back upstairs and was one of the first in line! So I was like “heeey nice to see you again so soon…!” He remembered my name – I guess because he’d only just written it down 😅 I thanked him for the 10th time – just couldn’t stop thanking everyone like I’d caught a disease where the symptom is permanent gratitude. THEN I ran downstairs to do the autograph and selfie with Ronen, who was running late – so that got postponed to the afternoon after we’d already waited a long while. When it did happen it was great - I can't remember what I said to him but I assume it was polite and made sense – although a chaotic queuing system again ensued. A whole long line of us were crushed together in the heat. I had an Aperpol spritz after and when I tell you I’d never needed a drink like that more…

That was it for my paid activities! Unknown to me at the time, my final glimpse of Ronen, Rafa, Sierra and Natacha was when I was sitting on the floor eating Ritz Crackers while they were wandering past on their way to/from whatever they were doing next. It felt so normal to see them around at that point. We gathered for the closing ceremony, thinking we’d see all the actors on stage once more for a goodbye, but the ceremony had to happen without any of the actors because of running late. So, I cherish my ‘seeing them in the hallway’ memories.

Overall feelings and would I do it again? If you’ve never been to a convention before but want to, do go into it with open eyes: There’s potentially a lot of waiting around and standing in line for a long time in a hot space (sometimes the line is more like a shapeless crowd and you don’t know where it begins and ends). Some of the activities are quite rushed. They fall behind schedule easily and you have to be agile about where to go next and what to do. The Dream It team worked super hard and could do with employing more staff in stewarding roles, ideally wearing something that identifies them as such (the staff blended in with the visitors of the convention). But I don’t know the economics of their staffing situation so maybe they can’t grow the team. Anyway, having more signs up also would have been useful. When you do get your moment with Ronen, Rafa, Sierra, Natacha though – or whoever you have come to see – it really is beautiful and meaningful.

Right now, I’m flipflopping – but mainly I think once is enough for me, unless they come to a convention the UK. There’s a couple of aspects I’d like to ‘do over,’ but perhaps not enough to try to recreate the magic a second time, given the expense of it?? That might change over the coming months – we’ll see! I went to this convention with the goal of meeting Ronen and Rafa (with Natacha and a Sierra being a glorious bonus as I booked it long before they were announced as guests) to tell them in person thank you and I love you – and I achieved that. I do think it was worth my money, but it is very expensive and tiring. I was lucky to be in a good position to pay for it this year, which might not be the case going forward. You really need to be able to afford to do it, and genuinely want to do it, knowing you’re paying money for something that is going to have some hard and challenging aspects as well as the amazing and joyful. Personally, I love that I went once. I didn’t love the Super Endurance Test of 2023 that was standing in line for three hours on Friday after travelling hahaaaaaa god. I loved the selfies and autograph sessions. I didn’t love the photoshoot outcomes but I loved that I’ve had Rafa’s large hand on my shoulder because I'm slutty so. I love that I looked into both his and Ronen’s eyes and told them how great they are. I love that I uploaded my selfie with Rafa to my instastory and he viewed it, so there’s just a line of my friends’ names, then actuallyrafa, then a line of my friends’ names 🤣

I also want to note that in real life, compared to footage of them in interviews/insta lives/wherever, I think you get even more of a sense of just how different they are to their characters. It made me respect them all even more than I already did, which I didn’t think was possible. They are SO talented.

BUT most importantly: The reason why this was so brilliant was @actuallysara, without whom I wouldn’t have thought I could travel alone to Paris and do this at all. Sara, meeting you and giving you a big hug was also the dream. You are so helpful and knowledgeable and kind ,and once again your flags were a fantastic idea and I’m so happy I got to sign them. I hope I get to see you again very soon. Thank you from the depths of my soul. @meditating-honey-badger (and your fabulous companion…!) it was a true delight to hang out, and chill out, and have such funny and deep conversations. You are an absolute light and I loved meeting you. I hope so much to see you again too. Like Sara, it could never be too soon. And @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut. What can I say. What can I possibly say. I want to make drinking on rooftop bars while talking about writing our thing. I’ve never done that with anyone else. We really went through this side by side and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I already miss you and I thank you too. You are, in fact, the warmest doughnut in town. All of you, forever ❤️. You made it what it was.

(Digitally applied giant aviator sunglasses and some editing so the Tarlos duo photoshoot doesn't count as a face reveal. Thank you also to the lovely people who made bracelets and handed them out.)