#found something from like half a year in my drafts but I think I still like it so here it is ig

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[lieutenantselnia]

Imagine your scientist f/o inventing a new kind of birth control for the two of you. They'll do everything they can to come up with something that's easy to use, and most importantly, doesn't have any health risks or bothersome side effects. They'll try to come up with something that you don't have to keep track of all the time, but only has to be renewed once every few months or so. Maybe they even manage to create something that can be used regardless of which biological sex a person has, so you're free to decide who of you is going to take it, or maybe you want to take turns or both of you use it to make sure. And should you decide one day that you want to have children now, it will be completely reversible without issues, and you can start your family together.

[jazziejax]

𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧’

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Modern AU | Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Black!OC & Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore | Modern AU

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - In which two twin gangsters return home after years in Chicago, to 2003 Jackson, Mississippi. Only to find that the chubby, brace-faced tomboy from across the street has grown into a woman they can’t ignore.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - drug use, swearing

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - something short because I literally have five other Smoke and Stack fics cooking in my drafts

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 2,178+

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˖°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨����, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢

It always started with noise. Summer in Mississippi wasn’t just heat and humidity—it was loud. Between the swatting screen doors, the bugs flying, kids playing double dutch with mismatched ropes, and the rickety hum of box fans, it was hard to hear yourself think. But for young Juicy, the noise was a comfort… until it wasn’t.

Back in ‘95, Juicy was about eleven, braces still fresh, glasses sliding down her nose every five minutes, and dressed in a floral pattered dress that matches her sisters, though hers fit her more boxier than it did on the older girl. But she didn’t care much about appearances, and it didn’t help that her mama always compared her to her older sister, Sinclair, thin and pretty like the girls in those Jet beauty ads or the ones on the perm boxes. “If only you laid off them pork chops,” was her mama’s idea of encouragement. Her daddy didn’t say much at all.

Juicy found her peace elsewhere—mainly across the street.

The Moore twins, Elias and Elijah—known as Smoke and Stack to others—were about six years older, fast-mouthed, sharp-eyed boys sly grins and problems they never spoke too loudly about. Their father was known around the neighborhood for being the kind of man who left bruises instead of blessings, and their mother was long gone. But the Hall’s took to them like family. Martin, Juicy’s older brother, clicked with them right away over cassette tapes and corner store hustles. Sinclair even crushed on Stack for a while, though he never acted on it.

But it was Juicy—a little awkward, big-bodied, and always scribbling in her notebook—who lingered in the background. She wasn’t really friends with the boys, not like her siblings were. But some days, when things were too loud at her house and Mary, her only friend, couldn’t come out, Smoke would let her sit on the porch with them, passing her a freeze cup and tossing her lazy jokes that made her laugh until her gums showed. Or when Stack would let her old onto him as she rode on back of his bike as he made stops around the neighborhood.

Those little moments were enough. They made her feel seen.

And then, they were gone. Moved up to Chicago when she was fifteen, chasing something bigger—money, maybe, or just a way out. Life moved on. And the city was still as loud as ever.

But in 2003, the block got loud again in their return.

They came back in a long black Lincoln, rolling slow like they owned the pavement. Elias drove, toothpick between his teeth, silver chains glinting in the sun as she rubbed down his waves. Elijah was in the passenger seat, shades low on his nose, hair in tight cornrows. They’d filled out—solid, broad-shouldered men now, still dressed in dark clothes with just enough shine to show they had money. Word spread fast.

Smoke and Stack were home.

First stop was the gas station—for fuel and the liquor store next to it, then the old park where half the benches were gone and the other half were tagged up in Sharpie and knife scratches, looking for their homeboy in his usual spot. A few heads turned, so they dapped up old friends, nodded at familiar faces.

But the real reunion happened on Vernon Street.

Martin Hall was leaned up against his Impala, blunt behind his ear, gold ring glinting. He caught sight of the car before it even parked at the house across the street, and when he caught sight of the men in the car, he instantly grinned.

“Nahhh, I know this ain’t who I think it is.” He shouted, arms already wide open.

Stack stepped out first, grinning, and then Smoke followed. The three embraced like no time had passed at all, Martin falling the men up. Loud laughs, back slaps, the kind of reunion that made neighbors peek through blinds.

“Man, what the hell are yall doing back? And ain’t told a nigga?” Marin asked as he leaned backed against his hood, taking the blunt his girlfriend passed him from her place in his serving seat.

“It was quick to us too, man.” Smoke said, shaking his head a bit. “Them Chiraq niggas different, too much shit going on up there.” He said, placing his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, his baggy white tee hanging from underneath a bit.

“Money was good, though.” Stack smirked, moving his gaze away from the woman in the car that was eyeing him with a lustful glint in her, to look at the against the hood.

“I bet.” Martin smirked. “I could only imagine what you niggas got up to up there. Especially to come back as fly as that.” He said, nodding over to the cars in front of the boys old home as he blew away the smoke from the blunt.

“Shit, us?” Stack questioned. “Look at you. The jewelry, new whip. Seems money down here moving smooth.”

“Mmm…it’s aight.” Martin shrugged, causing the twins to chuckle with a shake of their heads.

“You know we gotta celebrate.”Martin said, standing from the car a bit as he handed the blunt to his shorty in the car. “Whole block been a bit dry without y’all. Let me throw something together for tonight.” He suggested. “Plus, I gotta clean some paper anyway.” He shrugged, trying to ease the blow of an unexpected gathering upon the men.

Smoke and Stack exchanged a glance before both men looked back at their old friend and shrugged Martin clapped his hands with a smirk. “Aight.” He nodded. “Tracy, go call yo homegirls and shit, tell ‘em to come through while I get shit situated.” He said to the girl in his drivers seat. Tracy didn’t even say anything, she simply got out the car and made her at into the house, bit before making a bit of a show of pulling down her booty shorts. Stack and Smoke exchanged another look at that, but nothing was said further.

Plans were made fast. A block party. Speakers, coolers, grills were pulled out faster than the men could think. Now they just had to get everything jumpin’.

The men sat around Martin’s car catching up, reminiscing on old scams, and laughing at things they never got caught for. Smoke lit a cigarette while Stack leaned back, tapping his fingers on the dashboard.

That’s when they saw her.

Juicy.

She came walking up the sidewalk with Mary next to her, both of them laughing at something too far to hear. Juicy was still thick, but this time, she wore it like armor. Curves hugged up in a baby pink Juicy Couture set, midriff peeking under the hoodie. Her wedged flip flops clicked against the concrete with purpose. Her acrylics—French tips—glinted when she lifted her lollipop to her lips. Lips lined and glossy, brown skin smooth and glowing, gold hoops in her ears catching sun. Her sunglasses were perched on her head, the blonde highlighted tresses in a bun, looking like it just came out of a fresh roller set. It was only when she got closer that they could see that she still had the tiniest gap when she smiled, but now it looked like part of the charm.

Mary had her own vibe—low-rise jeans, rhinestone tank and a high pony—but no one was looking at her. Not the twins at least.

It was Juicy who had the street paused.

Smoke sat up a little straighter. Stack cocked his head. “Lil’ Juicy?” He mumbled.

And just like that, the heat of Mississippi summer wasn’t the loudest thing on the block anymore.

The heat clung to the air, and the bass from someone’s backyard radio pulsed low in the distance. Juicy walked like she owned the sidewalk, hips swaying in perfect rhythm with the click of her heels. She was curvy in all the right places—thicker than the girls on TV, but built with softness and strength that couldn’t be ignored.

Smoke and Stack hadn’t said a word yet. They’d gone still the second they saw her. Not obviously—nothing as sloppy as ogling—but they noticed everything. The gloss, the tips, the squinting, whenever from the sun or her needing her prescription. They both could remember how they used to slide down her nose every few seconds.

She no longer looked like the quiet girl who used to sit on the porch with a notebook. She looked like a woman now. A whole one.

Martin lifted a hand. “Juice! Come say what’s up.” He called out, waving the girl over.

Juicy raised a brow as she stopped at the curb, Mary lingering just behind her. “You actin’ like I don’t live here.”he caused, causing Martin to smack his lips. “You know what I mean.”

Juicy clocked the twins as soon as she approached. But her eyes didn’t widen, she didn’t blink. She just popped that lollipop out her mouth slow, head tilted, and said—

“Well, well. Look who finally came home.” All soft like.

Smoke stepped forward, arms crossed, head tilted just slightly. “Ain’t seen you in years, Juicy.” He said, voice a little lower than usual.

Stack nodded. “You done grown all up now.” He said, his eyes subconsciously giving the girl before him a quick once over, one that had him wanting to trace his eyes over her body again.

Juicy didn’t blush—she never did. She just looked between them, slow and deliberate, then popped the lollipop from her mouth and smiled, tiny gap and all. “Y’all look the same.” She said, though they really didn’t. “Maybe taller. Maybe.” She shrugged, not hiding the way she analyzed the men from head to toe, taking in their otherwise plain street wear, which she knew had to still be a decent penny for.

Martin chuckled. “They back for good. Figured I’d throw a little somethin’ tonight. Let the block know.”

Juicy nodded, barely glancing back at the twins. “That’s cute. I’ll see what’s up.” Then to Mary, “Come on.”

She turned without another word, strutting toward the house, and the two men made it their mission to not look at the rhinestones bedazzled on her booty, reading ‘Juicy’ across the span of the area. Mary, however, lingered just a second longer. Her eyes locked on Stack like she was sizing him up for dessert. No shame at all. She flashed a grin that was all teeth and trouble before jogging up the steps behind Juicy.

When they were gone, Martin lit his blunt, shaking his head. “Y’all look like you saw a ghost.” He said as he blew the smoke out. “Was it Mary? Yeah, I know, still freaks me out a bit to see her down here.” He added, not even waiting for an explanation from them.

Smoke leaned against the hood, eyes still on the porch. “Nah.” He muttered, voice tight. “Yeah, you right. Just didn’t expect that.” He said, though he was simply agreeing to save face.

A few minutes later, it seemed as though this party was about to take off as people began to show up, their drinks of chose and blunts in their clutches. This made Martin head inside to grab more beers while the twins stayed posted at the car, quiet now that the noise of the street settled down.

It was silent between them for a bit before Stack spoke up, not even looking at his brother. “Juicy is far from the girl we left them heard back.” Stack said, rubbing the back of his neck, internally questioning himself over the quick flashes of ‘not so pure’ thoughts he had about the girl he grew up with.

“Yeah.” Smoke replied. “She is.”

They didn’t say anything else for a moment, both thinking the same thing—how time had a funny way of flipping the script. How the girl who used to scribble doodles on everything and watch them from the corner of the porch now walked like she didn’t owe anybody her attention.

Smoke remembered the way she used to listen when he talked—really listen—without judgment or noise. How he used to feel stupid for sharing some of his serpent moments with someone so young. How at first he just needed her for an ear, and she levered that, and when he needed some answers, she was quick to help as well. And she had those same eyes. Soft but knowing. That hadn’t changed.

Stack was still thinking about her walk. The way she didn’t give them a second glance, like she’d seen men like them a thousand times. It didn’t bruise his ego—it just made him curious.

“And I peep she’s got a smart mouth on her now.” He finally said, half a smile on his lips.

Smoke nodded, but his gaze didn’t leave the front door. “Yeah.” He muttered, and that’s all he seemed to be able to say, as if she had rendered him speechless.

Stack’s smirked widen, longing his lips as a thought crossed his mind.

“Wonder who she’s lettin’ have it.”

If you would like to be added to the taglist, comment here.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 & 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 🗑️ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬★ ★ ★ ★ ★

[nereidprinc3ss]

pillow talk

in which spencer reid chooses a very odd time to reveal an anecdote from his past to fem!reader

18+ (fluff, extremely suggestive) warnings/tags: fingering but nothing graphic whatsoever, it's basically fade to black sex, discussions of spencer's gsw from season 5, medical talk (and inaccuracies), spencer is a sarcastic little shit a/n: found this super random little thing in my drafts and it was done and i think it's silly and cute so i'm posting it! 600 words, short n sweet!

“You got shot in the knee?”

It’s perhaps said too loudly for the setting—tucked into Spencer’s bed in the late hours of the night when up until this point the conversation had been nothing but murmured stories and quiet giggles. And before that, well—before that there hadn’t been much conversation at all. 

Still you can’t find it within yourself to apologize as you sit up, holding the top sheet to your chest and looking down at Spencer incredulously. His eyebrows raise like he’s surprised by your reaction. 

“Thigh, technically. And it was years ago. Come back.”

You huff but allow yourself to be pulled back down, head on his shoulder as his hand finds its place stroking your hip once more. 

“How have you never told me that?”

“You never noticed the multiple incision scars on my leg?”

“What? No! Can I look now?”

“You won’t be able to see them. It’s too dark.”

You angle your head toward him, and he does the same, tilting his down until your noses almost brush. 

“So turn the light on.”

“If I turn the light on I’ll get distracted.”

“Distracted by what?” You ask, realizing what he means and voice quickly fading even as you finish the sentence. He chuckles and kisses your head. 

“I’ll show it to you in the morning. Come here.”

“I am here,” you grumble. He hums, leaning down further to try and kiss you. 

“Closer.”

So you scoot up the mattress and roll onto your side, pressed right against him, to meet him halfway in a sweet kiss. 

“You’re kind of spoiled,” you laugh against his lips as he begins pushing the sheet from your body. 

“You have to be nice to me. I got shot, remember?”

“Right. And how long ago was this, approximately?”

“It was 19 days before my 28th birthday.”

So much for approximations. 

“Aw. You got shot for your 28th birthday?”

It’s his turn to laugh into the kiss as he carefully rolls over you but recovers quickly, assuming a deadpan delivery. 

“Yeah. And it was really bad.”

“Sexy,” you murmur as he kisses down your jaw. “Tell me more.”

“Shots to the leg can be life-threatening if the femoral artery is nicked. Thankfully the bullet missed mine. You’re welcome.”

Your heart skips with a split second of true anxiety, but you snort at his cavalier attitude. 

“Yeah? This is really working for me.”

He lowers his voice to the one he uses in more intimate contexts and you giggle as he explains his gunshot wound to you like it’s dirty talk. 

“The bullet went in through my rectus femoris…” now uninhibited by the sheet, he finds the spot on your thigh and pinches lightly, “and came out clean through my semitendinosis muscle.”

“Clean? No bone fragments?”

“Nope. The doctors said I was extremely lucky it didn’t splinter my femur but it completely destroyed my muscles. I had to do physical therapy for a year and a half and I had a cane for months.”

“That’s kind of hot,” you breathe, losing commitment to the bit as his kisses get lower and his hand creeps higher. 

“Wait until you hear about the mid-surgery aortic clamping and ligature complications. You’ll love this—I was awake the whole time.”

A soft moan slips from between your parted lips and your brows pinch. 

“Spencer—”

“What?” He murmurs. “Me getting shot in the leg isn’t sexy anymore?”

You manage something between a breathy laugh and a mewl as your back arches. 

“I’m gonna kill you.”

He hums against your throat. 

“Good luck. You’d be far from the first to try.”

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ all yours ｡o♡⋆˚｡⋆.

pairing: park seonghwa x reader

summary: successfully enticing hwa with one more round? less likely than you think.

tags: 「SFW! fluff! | slightly suggestive | drowsy after nap thoughts | cuddles! | kisses kisses | straddling,, | gah he's so pretty in bed | shortest fic on tumblr | reader has no gender」

word count: 0.6k

a/n: sooo we all went crazy after his recent post, right? this is just a quick silly fic for your imaginations because im sooo smitten for hwa lately... this is my first ateez fic! i hope you like it, atiny^^ also i haven't posted in months! sorry about that,, happy new year! might post a quick draft of something to see if anyone is interested, keep an eye out for that! anyways, enjoy!^^

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

"hnggg.." your head followed the noise of a sleepy, drowsy seonghwa just inches away from you on your bed. he has his arms laid out in front of him and was lying on his stomach. the way his body stretched out on the sheets was too perfect. his hands caressing the duvet roughly, grabbing onto the fabric for stability in more stretches. his fingers turning rosy from how hard he was holding on.

his white knitted sweater lifted slightly to reveal his waist, something you could stare at forever. you swore that you caught yourself drooling a little over how good he looked in that moment. your silence was loud to him, causing him to turn his head ever so slightly in your direction.

"what're staring at?" his voice was husky and faint, almost as if he wasn't fully conscious yet. his hair was messy from rolling around in bed. his eyes only half opened, deep and staring intently into you.

"you look so soft, so peaceful and pretty just laying there. it's so unfair how good you always look."

"hmm you're softer!" his words still slow and playful. you turned away for a second, the sun rays peaking through the curtains stung your eyes. this was the perfect time to attack.

"h-hey!" you managed to yelp out as he suddenly clung onto your arm. lying on his back now, his body was radiating warmth and his scent was sweet. even after hours of sleeping and moving around, he still managed to attract you in every single way. it's as if you were completely bound to him, ready to take on any command.

"get.. on," he lazily whispered. you began to feel his cool fingers brushing against your waist. you couldn't help but burn up to his touch. not knowing what he was thinking, what he wanted with you next, kept your adrenaline flowing.

"what?" you pushed your arms out of his grasp to look at him from a distance. he opened his eyes properly now, something snapped in him to make his consciousness clear. his gaze flickered between you and his lap.

"come on top of me.. crush me with your comfort," he said as he reached his arms straight out. you couldn't help but chuckle at his strange request. was he really awake yet?

you couldn't help but oblige as soon as your laughter died down. you were straddling seonghwa, being careful to make it as innocent as possible. bellies touching, you wrapped your arms around his neck. resting your cheek against his, you closed your eyes and your body started to melt into him.

the familiar cool fingers of his found themselves around your waist again. slight shivers began to spread all over your body, his touch was enough to drive you crazy.

he noticed this immediately, "shh," he chuckled softly between the coos.

you couldn't take it anymore. both your bodies being pressed up against each other, you could hear the gentle beat of his heart. you could memorize the pace in which he was breathing, slightly hitching at times from the tension. you lifted your head away from his, only to rush into locking yourself on his lips.

sloppy sounds erupted from seonghwa's mouth, slipping out moans of pleasure and need. his hands held your waist tighter, moving them up your torso.

you felt a growing sensation of want in the pit of your stomach. you couldn't possibly go for another round, could you? pulling away from him, you returned to your resting position with your faces touching.

seonghwa hid his face with the back of his hand. the same rosy blush that was shown earlier on his hands was not spread all over his face and neck. you couldn't see it properly but you knew he was always the cutest while being flustered.

"damn... why do you love to tease me?"

all you could do was chuckle lightly, proud that you had him wrapped around your finger.

© nmn-yty ★ 1.16.2025

[raevpng]

we'll be alright

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

masterlist

a/n: thank u so much for being so patient with me while i write this :( i am so excited to post this - i don't think i've enjoyed writing something more! anyways, here it is, i hope you enjoy this pazzi draft fic and let me know what yall think ;)

summary: where azzi and paige navigate through this new chapter of their life together - the draft.

---

the darkness of the hotel room wrapped around them like a soft blanket, thick with unspoken thoughts. it wasn’t awkward, it never was – not after all these years. tonight, though, it carried a trace of uncertainty, of change lingering in the air.

azzi lay on one side of the bed, scrolling through instagram stories – friends touching down in new york, other teammates posing in new fits, excitement buzzing for the draft. paige, nestled beside her, running absent-minded fingers through azzi’s freshly washed curls. the scent of azzi’s vanilla shampoo clung to them, sweet and calming, as paige absentmindedly leaned in closer, breathing in her girlfriend’s calming scent.

“you good, babe?” azzi asked softly, glancing up just in time to catch the small smirk tugging at paige’s lips at the nickname.

paige hummed in response, brushing soft curls aside, leaning down to press slow, open-mouthed kisses along the exposed, warm, tempting skin. azzi’s breath caught, phone slipping ever so slightly in her hand.

“paige,” she warned gently as her eyes flutter shut, seemingly betraying her words. 

“hmm?” paige feigned innocence, her hand drifting to azzi’s bare waist, tracing the curve with implications that drew a quiet sigh from the other girl.

“you know we can’t, we have to be up in a few hours.”

paige groaned dramatically, opting for soft, teasing kisses instead. the atmosphere lightened, playful familiarity pushing against the edges of the bittersweet moment. “can’t even kiss up on my pretty girl? you’re so mean.”

azzi looked up at her with a grin, leaning in to press a slow, deliberate kiss to paige’s lips. the blonde’s response was immediate — arms wrapping around azzi’s waist, pulling her close with a quiet urgency that made azzi’s breath hitch. the kiss deepened, quickly shifting from sweet to heated, lips moving in perfect rhythm as their bodies drew closer, the air between them thick with desire.

azzi’s gasp came soft but sharp, and paige took full advantage, slipping her tongue past parted lips, coaxing a low moan from azzi’s throat. it was gentle, yet intense, and azzi melted into it completely, hands slipping under the hem of paige’s shirt to find warm, familiar skin. her fingers brushover the firm muscle, the soft curve of paige’s abs flexed under her touch – strong, defined, and sculpted by the years of hard work paige submitted herself to everyday. azzi traced them with fervent fingers, feather-light, like she was memorizing the shape all over again.

paige groaned at the contact, a sound low and desperate, her grip on azzi’s bare waist faltering for a second before her hand found its way down, cupping the curve of azzi’s ass and pulling her flush against her body. her voice came hot against azzi’s lips, breathless and teasing. “you’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”

azzi smirked slowly, her eyes bright with mischief as she pulled back just enough to break the tension that built up between them, paige chasing her lips instinctively. “oops,” she whispered, the word drawn out as she teased, her voice sultry but playful. paige groaned, a half-laugh of frustration and affection slipping out. “what are you doing to me, baby?”

“god forbid a girl admires her girlfriend’s sexy abs,” azzi added playfully, her hand still resting over paige’s stomach, fingers making lazy circles that had no right being as innocent as they looked.

paige shook her head with a breathy laugh, cheeks flushed, voice laced with affection and want. “you know i can’t keep my hands off of you.”

“good,” azzi murmured, sticking her tongue out playfully, the contrast between her words and her teasing expression making paige melt all over again.

she buried her face into the crook of azzi’s neck, pressing a kiss there, soft and grounding. their bodies still tangled, but the moment softened, hearts slowing, the rush fading into something warmer. the silence that returned wasn’t empty –i t was familiar and full, the kind you could only have with a soulmate.

“you nervous about tomorrow?” azzi asked, voice soft, fingers now playing with paige’s hand resting in her lap.

paige didn’t look up, but azzi felt the subtle shift, the way her body stilled.

“i’m okay, i guess.” she starts, loosening a little as azzi brings their now intertwined fingers to her lips, leaving a kiss to reassure the girl to continue. “i guess i’m still struggling to take it in. i mean, at this time last week we were going over our game plan to secure the championship and now we’re in new york preparing for a draft that’ll take me away from you.” she whispers, almost as if she was afraid to let the words slip out, as if by admitting her worries that it’d make the situation true, more real.

azzi just hums, letting the silence consume the room once more, taking the time to search for the proper words. “to be honest, i can’t really wrap my head around it either. it feels like yesterday that we were here to celebrate last year’s draft, and now you’re the one we’re celebrating, my number one pick superstar.” she jokes around, making the blonde who was still seeking solace on her neck chuckle. “and yeah, maybe the fact that you’re gonna be playing in a different jersey far, far away from me is bothering me a little.” 

paige finally looked up, searching the deep brown eyes she knew better than her own reflection. azzi held her gaze, eyes full of love, tangled in the complicated emotions only they seemed to understand. she shifts as she senses azzi’s emotions, wanting to bring that beautiful smile to her face.

“lowkey, it’s weird being called a uconn alum,” paige said, her voice lighter. “makes me feel old.”

azzi giggled, and paige smiled at the sound, her heart swelling and sinking all at once. “i’m not worried about us though,” paige added with a mischievous grin. “i heard distance makes the sex better.”

azzi gasped in mock horror, swatting her lightly as they both dissolved into giggles. 

“for real though, az… we got this, right?”

there it was—the quiet crack in her armor, the need for reassurance.

azzi didn’t hesitate. “yes, baby. of course we got this. we’ll always be okay. you’ll be there for me, i’ll be there for you. no matter the distance. i’ll always be your number one fan. you already know that right?” she looks deeply into the deep blue of paige’s eyes, the same ones that captivated her years ago and stubbornly wouldn’t let go.

paige leaned in to kiss the dimple in her girlfriend’s cheek, soft and certain.

“and i’ll always be yours.”

– 

the soft glow of the morning sun slipped through the cracks of the curtains, filling the room with a soft orange glow as paige’s eyes flutter open, blinking away the sleep as they adjust to the gentle light. it was calm, the world all too quiet considering the occasion that lay ahead of them, an event that would change the discourse of her life. 

she stretched as she sat up, careful not to wake the girl still snoring softly, little sounds slipping from parted lips as her chest rose and fell. paige smiled softly, her heart warming at how adorable her girlfriend looks, beautiful and dark curly hair scattered on the white of the hotel pillows. her oversized shirt, the one azzi had tugged on sleepily the night before, had ridden up her waist, exposing warm skin and long legs tangled in the sheets. paige tried to swallow the lump in her throat at the thought of not waking up to this sight in a while, and chose to save this memory deep in her mind, cherishing the simplicity of the moment. 

she presses a soft kiss to her sleeping girlfriend’s head before she stands up, heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. she heard the click of the bathroom door as she splashed water on her face, suds of face wash dripping to her elbows as she feels azzi wrap her arms around her waist, the warmth of her girlfriend’s body spreading to her own as azzi yawns sleepily, resting her body weight on her back. “morning’ baby.” she mutters sleepily, bringing a dopey smile on the blonde’s face at the sweetness.

“morning’, my love.” she turned her head, wiping her face as she leaned in to kiss azzi’s cheek. “you ready for today?”

“yeah,” azzi hummed, still clinging to her. “gotta leave in a few to start getting ready.”

she watched through the mirror with a lazy smirk as paige undressed, swapping her sleepwear for a navy blue uconn hoodie and sweats. azzi leaned back, arms crossed, a teasing glint in her eyes. “can’t see me till later... how are you gonna deal?”

paige pouted dramatically. “i know. but you won’t see me either, and i know you’re gonna lose it when you do.”

“bold of you to assume i haven’t already planned my reaction,” azzi grinned. “how much you wanna bet you’ll be the one drooling in front of the cameras?”

“oh, trust me, i will.” paige’s voice dipped lower, stepping in to press a kiss to azzi’s temple. “but just so you know, i’m not planning on keeping my hands or eyes off you tonight.”

azzi blushed, a flutter in her stomach at the quiet promise in paige’s voice. “that’s what i like to hear.” still, she gave her a little push, giggling as paige grabbed her phone and slipped into her shoes.

“see you later?” azzi called, tugging on her bathrobe as her phone lit up with messages from her stylist and team.

paige paused at the door, her chest tight with a love too big for words. she stepped back in, pressed a lingering kiss to azzi’s lips. “see you later, princess.”

– 

flashing lights filled the enclosed space, the orange carpet contrasting beautifully with the black fit of paige’s suit. the glitter scattered throughout her clothes were emphasised by the numerous camera flashes around her, the noise and yells of “over here!” and “turn this way!” blending into one loud noise as her body moved in autopilot. her blonde hair was wavy today, cascading down her shoulders that brought out the blue in paige’s eyes that were fluttering across the room searching for someone – a pair of brown eyes that she hasn’t seen since the serene morning. then the energy in the room shifted. cameras clicked louder, flashes sped up and veered slightly to her right.

and there she was. 

azzi looked stunning in a way that made paige’s breath catch in her throat, and she had to quickly remind herself that she was in public  because damn. 

azzi’s black dress perfectly hugged the curves of her body that paige memorised and worshiped night after night. azzi’s long hair was style in waves, carefully flowing down to reveal the toned muscle of azzi’s back and arms, and paige swore her heart stopped as azzi looked away from the cameras to lock with her eyes. 

before she could stop herself, her legs move to join her jaw-dropping girlfriend, and she could only send a silent prayer to the lord as azzi leaned in close, lips brushing against her ear, “you look so good right now.” 

paige’s legs almost gives in on her, choosing to stabilize herself by subtly dragging her hand from the curve of azzi’s ass to the small of her back, fingers pressing gently against the bare skin. paige delighted in the way azzi shivered under her touch. 

 two can play this game. 

“you’re so lucky there’s cameras everywhere” paige whispered, voice low and husky. “i’d absolutely devour you right now if i could.” 

a satisfied smirk settles on her lips as azzi closed her eyes as if to calm herself down. as they continue to pose for more pictures, their eyes met again, and the intensity and desire between them quickly melted into something softer. something warmer.

pride.

– 

azzi laced her fingers through paige’s as they sat, the lights dimming and the soft music fading into silence. the announcer took the stage, and paige went still beside her.

“still okay there, babe?” azzi whispered, giving her hand a soft queeze.

“yeah, i’m good. i think the nerves are finally taking over though.” she chuckled softly, her nerves now visibly simmering beneath her exterior. “i know god’s got it, and that i’ve been working for this for so long. it’s just all sinking in now, that’s all.” paige admits softly, biting her lip nervously as azzi nods in understanding. 

“you’ve worked for this, more than anyone i know. and we’re all here for you—your family, our team, me. we’re so proud of you, paige. more than words could ever cover.” she finished softly.

paige’s eyes glisten as she smiles thankfully in response. she squeezes azzi’s hand three times in silent gratitude, the comfort washing in before the announcer said the long awaited words. 

“with the first pick in the 2025 wnba draft, the dallas wings select, paige bueckers.” 

cheers erupt around the room as paige sits frozen for a moment, emotions washing over her as she hears her own teammates' proud yells. as she stands up, her eyes immediately search for azzi’s, to her anchor and soulmate. 

she stood, as azzi stands up, pride and love written all over her features as paige reaches for her first before anyone else—pulling azzi into a tight, quiet embrace that blocked out the world. she buried her face into her neck, when she hears it.

“i love you.” azzi whispers out. 

and that’s all she needed – all she needed to gather courage and strength as she pulls away, a loving smile across paige’s face as she hugs geno and her family. 

paige almost feels dizzy as she walks to the stage, uncertain how to process this new chapter in her life. 

she catches azzi’s eyes once more, eyes glossy with love, awe, and such pride that paige could fall to her knees. she’s breathes in and out, committing this image of her loved ones to her memory. and even though she feels the familiar pool of uncertainty in her chest, she feels a new wave of confidence and excitement rise. 

as she looks at her girlfriend, staring up at her like she hung the damn stars, she believes it. 

we’ll be alright. i’ll be alright.

---

i know i dropped this a lot later than planned but i hope you guys still enjoy 😵‍💫 ily guys <33 -r

[moonlight-prose]

i feel like I’ve been ignoring my boy so what do you think about hello/goodbye hugs that linger + joaquín torres?

who knows why?

a/n: this request has sat in my drafts for so long i can't remember when you sent it. but the yearning i had for torres in 2021/2022 has come back tenfold. and of course it had to be another friends to lovers arc. i always feel as if he's the perfect character for something this soft. plus you and i both know he's just that one friend you end up falling for after years of denying it. (i listened to DtMF to capture all those emotions needed.)

summary: the orders came in quicker than you wanted to accept. a place far enough to drag you from the friends made and family found. but when the time to say goodbye arises feelings begin to bleed through.

word count: 1.8k+

pairing: joaquin torres x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, goodbyes that are painful, joaquin is hopelessly in love, friends to lovers, teasing as best friends do, angst (because it's who i am), goodbyes.

The years were cruel to a soul that ached. Time that passed with fluid ease around someone stagnant—trapped against their will. Emotions tangled in a web that clung to their heart became a companion you were familiar with, a friend that complied to its own decisions. Wild. Untamed. Unpredictable in the face of everyone…especially him.

“I could go with you.” He fixed himself to the door frame, arms crossed and body stiff, as noise echoed behind him.

They were taking shots in the kitchen. Pre-gaming the final night out before they were handed mission orders. You could practically taste the cheap vodka from your perch on the bed—the pungent scent of lime chasers wafting through the open door. The night was meant to be filled with ease. Bar hopping, a club on the off chance it wasn’t spilling out with people, and early morning pancakes to curb the hangover.

All before the inevitable goodbyes.

The bitten back tears and watery smiles. The raspy promises of next times that would turn into almosts and unsure possibilities. You loathed that which couldn’t be stopped. A half filled life with friends who were found further away each year you tried to find them.

“You can’t go with me,” you sighed, wiping at the shitty eyeliner that never seemed to stick. “Wherever they put me is where I have to be. No friends allowed.”

A curl of his lips ensnared you—pulling at the fragments and tendrils of a heart that couldn’t take much more. “I could call Sam. Get him to do me a favor.”

“Nice,” you drawled. “Calling Captain America just to bug me wherever I wind up.”

“You can’t say you don’t enjoy me bugging you muñeca.”

“Never said I don’t.”

“You implied it.”

“Estas loco.”

“I’m not-”

A shrill overbearing voice you would know anywhere simply by the way Joaquin tensed as she stumbled down the hall—a half empty can of something you couldn’t read clutched in her sticky hand. “You’re gonna save me a dance tonight Torres.”

You dug your teeth into the side of your cheek, busying yourself with a mascara wand. Somehow her flirting always resembled a threat, but you speculated it was the twisting of your pulsating heart that told it differently. Joaquin was always one to appear polite. Saying yes in the face of those who would overlook how his brown eyes turned sharp. Piercing to the gut of whoever pushed him too far.

Hope flourished like a maddening inkling—another piece added to a forever half finished picture—when he shuffled away from her. You were insane to cling to it. Something so small even as he appeased her drunken pleas for more than just awkward conversations.

“Yeah…” You dug a nail into the palm of your hand, swallowing the ache that formed like a stone at the bottom of your empty stomach. “We could probably do that.”

The pleading gaze he threw your way went overlooked for the eyeliner that still had to be applied. A mundane task to distract from the way he was dragged out of the room, a raucous cheer of friends welcoming him back into the fray. He wasn’t yours to keep from the fun. Certainly not someone you could place a claim over after years of friendship—the hope of something more diminishing with every passing year.

You couldn’t delude yourself into believing things would change. The orders were pinned on your board to be taken in the morning, a harsh slap of reality placed upon the life you might never have. But you could accept that. Getting your first post wasn’t meant to be tangled with a man, especially your best friend.

So you’d grin and bear it. A familiar action you were used to submerging yourself into.

“Vamos!” Your friend shouted, giving you just enough time to grab your phone before they shuffled out into the front yard.

Orange lights blinded you the second you crossed the club’s threshold—flashing with the rhythm of the music. Everyone dispersed before you could ask what the plan was, leaving you to stumble after them. Three vanished into the throng of people on the dance floor, loud music blaring a reggaeton song you recognized from years ago. The bar was crowded, people packed into such a small space—the alcohol flowing with ease given the summer heat.

“Lost?”

You jumped, Joaquin’s hands steadying you in the heels that stuck to a tequila layered floor. “I think we’ve been ditched.”

“More fun this way,” he shouted over the music. “Means we don’t have to babysit.”

“I’d say we can get drunk, but…”

He nodded, palms slipping into yours. “I dance better sober.”

“I doubt that!” you laughed.

“Oh that’s how it’s gonna be? Mírame.” Yanking you close enough to avoid getting stepped on, he twirled you into a familiar two step. Muscle memory snapping to attention the closer he got—his touch sliding to grab at the fabric around your hips.

Dancing with Joaquin felt like home. A familiar realm of comfort that finally gave you the chance to fall into his touch—your body melting into the fast beat of the song. There wasn’t much room to move, people crowded in until they spilled out the front doors, but you ignored it for the favor of having him close. The heady scent of his cologne and sweat coated your senses, blinding you to the cheap tequila you could practically taste off everyone else.

Someone rammed into your back, elbow knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Fresh air?”

His hand clasped over yours. “Way ahead of you.”

Nearly getting hit in the head by two men spinning their girls had Joaquin dragging you quick enough to trip you. His body acting as the barrier for such a large crowd—stepping into the role of protector until you were no longer around to need him.

How could you explain that to lose him would rip the ground beneath you usually steady feet? That to leave him was destroying the very gravity that held you firm on the ground.

“I won’t miss this place,” you muttered, sucking in a lungful of crisp air until the burn spread across your chest. “Too many fucking people.”

He grinned, thumb catching the thrumming vein along your wrist. “It’s not so bad.”

“Well…no. It’s never bad with you.”

“That right?” Lips pulled into a smirk you’d seen a thousand times over, mischief screaming in eyes that bored into yours.

“Cochino! I wasn’t thinking that way.” Yet even as you said the words you laughed. For the simple reason that he was your favorite person, your small slice of joy on days that offered that all too familiar shadow of darkness.

He laughed and your heart lit up on the inside, the agony of leaving, the grief of losing him, dissipating while you stood in his shine. Such a small thing to miss but even as you realized it you knew that not a day would go by where you wouldn’t miss everything about him. Small pieces of your life scattered into memories you wished you could pick up.

What you wouldn’t give to have taken more photos.

To solidify his image in ink and tie it to your heart.

“I’m gonna miss this,” he admitted, the cool breeze washing over you. “Gonna miss you.”

“Yeah…”

Tonight you wouldn’t tell him. Not when the hours were still young and the orders that hung like a cloud over your head were nonexistent until morning. So you chose the easy route—push for more time, make whatever this was exist in the present for as long as you could live in it. For your sanity…and his.

“Coffee?”

He smiled, squeezing your hand. “Absolutely.”

“You got everything?”

Dropping the bag, you watched people in a similar uniform shuffle onto an already tightly packed plane. “I think so.”

“You sure? Can’t forget the snacks or headphones for the pendejos who snore or-”

“Joaquin.”

“And make sure you snag a good seat. Don’t sit close to the bathroom. Trust me-”

“Joaquin,” you snapped. “You’re acting like your mother.”

His hands covered your face before you could grab them, pushing your head back with a snort. “And? She knew her shit.”

That much you knew to be true. Nights spent crowded around a small kitchen table, homework scattered beneath heavy plates weighted down with arroz con carne, salsa smeared on the corners of what was once perfectly lined notebook pages. Days splayed out in his backyard, the sun scorching your skin as he played football with his cousins. Music blasting from shitty speakers in his room, a fan going high enough to kill the lights in the whole house.

Life that you’d give anything to go back to. Moments you had seared on your skin, burned behind closed eyelids. You could taste the salt from esquites bought down the street—a frozen Gatorade stuffed in the back of his fridge for days his practice with soccer ran long.

He’d been the love of your life since you met him.

If only the two of you had figured it out sooner.

“I-” You sucked in a breath, hands curling into fists. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

Gathering you in a hug tight enough to pop the ache in your spine, he buried his face into the rough fabric on your shoulder. You did the same with his comfortable denim jacket—a piece of clothing you should have stolen long ago.

“We’ll see each other alright?”

You bit back the thick swell of tears. “Hopefully soon.”

“You forget,” he laughed. “I’ve got the favor of Cap on my side.”

“Don’t piss off Sam Wilson with visitation days okay?” you sighed, digging a hand into the soft curls at the base of his neck. “Just…go be a hero. I’ll make sure to tell everyone I know Falcon is my best friend.”

His smile pressed to your neck, hands tight around your waist. “Bueno. Someone has to know you’re cool.”

“Fuck off,” you sobbed.

Pulling away felt impossible. A feat you couldn’t have pulled off even if you held all the strength in the world. But his arms were loosening and his face was close to yours and suddenly you understood why people died for the meager touch of fleeting love. It would be so easy to kiss him, quicker than breathing. And yet…you watched as something flickered in his eyes.

Confirmation that your time would come; it just wasn’t right now.

“Good luck,” he murmured, swiping at the tears he could catch. “Until next time?”

You nodded, hand curling around his wrist. “Until next time.”

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x F!reader, established relationship, flashback friends to lovers WC:1.6K

A/N: So I'm a super sentimental person and I adore keepsakes so it got me thinking of a certain kind of keepsake reader would love to get her hands on and how it came to be in her possession. No smut in this one but my blog is strictly 18+. Enjoy!

"Babe..."

You weren't paying enough attention when he called out to you, too busy trying to clean up around your room to notice Eddie sorting through the box you stored under your bed. The one that housed all your keepsakes – ticket stubs from movies you'd seen together, napkins he'd doodled on, crumpled up early drafts of songs he'd written, all the little trinkets he'd gifted you over the years and more of the like.

But then Eddie pulls out something you'd forgotten he didn't known about yet, something that sat at the very bottom of the nearly overflowing box, a secret you were yet to share.

"Is this my hair?"

That gets your attention like a crowbar to the knee, eyes snapping to the lock of dark curled hair held together with thin black ribbon, dangling from between his thumb and index finger as he held it up for you to see.

"Oh, that..."

~

The first time you set foot in Hawkins was three years ago for your senior year. It was a few weeks into the move that you found yourself upholding a promise you'd made to your classmate Ronnie Ecker, a promise to come out Friday night and watch her band play at one of the local dives, the Hideout.

You were happy to go, thankful for the lifeline that was Ronnie's friendship in a town where you knew no one else. None of the others could be assed to befriend the new girl when graduation was just around the corner, everyone set to go their separate ways soon after.

The invitation sounded exciting nonetheless, even making you genuinely intrigued to see what the underground music scene was like in this grungy corner of Hawkins.

That night you were hit with the stale smell of cigarette smoke and bitter alcohol that commonly permeated establishments like this. You held your breath for as long as you could manage while you navigated the bar carefully, hoping the aroma won't cling to your hair once it was time to head back home.

Soon enough you found some space near the very front of the little stage, shuffling through to stand shoulder to shoulder with a modest crowd.

To say you found them intimidating would be an understatement. All of them unfamiliar and unsmiling and those who weren't tossing back hard liquor, chugged frosty beers right out of the bottle while decked out in dark leather and ripped denim. Cigarettes burned hot between their scowling lips too as plenty of ink and silver adorned their skin.

Looking around, you quietly wished Ronnie had clued you in on what to wear to these kinds of things. You didn't want the attention that came with standing out, hoping your suede jacket and fluttery lilac dress, not to mention your complete lack of any tattoos or piercings, wouldn't draw any looks.

Yet, despite hoping for the best and even resorting to standing still enough so as to avoid any kind of detection like some kind of poor injured prey in the wild, that nasty bite of self consciousness zeroed in on you and clenched its teeth down on you bone deep when you happened to catch the way one of the waitresses' gaze hung on you.

Her glittering pierced eyebrow climbed higher than the other while the corner of her jet black lipstick painted mouth fell into a half frown of sorts as she looked you up and down. Her eyes full of daggers, it was entirely unsubtle and unmistakable how out of place you looked to her as she returned to clearing a nearby table, dealing one final blow when she bows her head and begins to shake it disdainfully, her red dyed hair swishing gently from the motion.

'you should have known better than to show up here looking like you do'. You could read it plain as day on her disapproving pale face.

There were no real words exchanged but it was hard not to wither on the spot once she'd strut away, reminded once again of how much you didn't really feel like you belonged in Hawkins let alone the Hideout.

Smudging your own lipstick by nervously chewing on your bottom lip, it takes a lot to suppress the fleeting urge to make a break for the exit, your anxiety quietened somewhat once the lights suddenly dimmed and the band started to emerge on stage.

You met Ronnie's eye instantly and aimed a quick wave in her direction as she took her place behind the drums, her toothy grin directed back at you in return along with a friendly wink.

That was when you got a look at the rest of the band for the very first time. Each one stepped up under the amber yellow lights, making final adjustments to their instruments while you scanned them all.

It was their front man who held your attention though when he took his place behind the mic, thick guitar strap slung around his neck and chunky silver rings catching the light as he adjusted the mic stand to match his height.

You were yet to know his name. His real name anyway, refusing to refer to him by any of the monikers your classmates had dubbed him. But all those thoughts about the whispers that surrounded him, the hushed tones of 'devil worshipper' and 'town freak' went mute in your head when his honey brown eyes fell on you.

They weren't icy and cruel or quick to dismiss like most of the people you'd come to know in this town. Instead there was something distinctly warm and inviting about his wide eyed gaze, enough to make you feel more at ease than you had when you first arrived.

At least now there was one more person who seemed happy to see you.

His voice was unlike what you'd heard before too, smooth, smoky and surprisingly soulful while his fingers played fluidly over the fretboard of his flashy guitar, faster than you thought possible as your cheers echoed loudest amongst the crowd, genuinely impressed with how they were performing.

Especially him.

Up until now you'd known him mostly for the theatrics he pulled in the lunch room. Scaling the lunch tables and provoking hungry jocks by hurling clever insults along with shit eating grins and raised middle fingers. To know this was the same boy performing on stage in front of you now was a little jarring to say the least.

The whole set was so unlike any of the other musical performances you've ever seen before, even the handful of concerts you'd been able to see with your friends back home. Unable to help yourself, you grew so much more excited every time his eyes connected with yours and smiled, like he'd been seeking you out in the crowd, everyone else inconsequential.

Fuck, he looked at you like the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle - perfectly placed in front of him in a space that was meant only for you.

When it came to the final song of their set you weren't surprised that he was able to nail his electrifying solo with apparent ease, headbanging throughout it with his long, curly hair whipping in every direction. Thinking it had to be the highlight of the performance you grew from giddy to stunned as you watched him reach behind the amp during the final beats of the song, pulling out what looked to be a pair of clippers as he held it up for the audience to see.

It struck you then that this is what Ronnie must have alluded to you when she'd first asked you to come and attend. 'He really wants to make an impression, you know? we all do. And well, you've got to come out and see it for yourself', was how she had put it, practically luring you to the bar with how mysterious she'd made it all sound.

With your breath held, you watched him flick it on, raising the whirring clippers with no hesitation and running the blades across the side of his head in one clean stripe, strands of his long hair falling away like the first sign of snow.

It was hard not to be enthralled as the dark curls littered the stage in little tendrils, more falling as he kept shaving at the side of his head.

Staring at the dark hair on stage as the crowd broke into drunken cheers and whistles, you reacted a little differently from everyone else, growing silent while others grew louder.

The longer you stared the less you could help yourself.

In that moment you gave into a burst of impulse, reaching forward to snatch back a handful of hair and stuffed the locks into your pocket before you could even figure out why you'd done it.

No one had seen you do it, thankfully. His hair remained in your jacket pocket even while Ronnie introduced you to him later, trying not to stare at the freshly buzzed cut on the left side of his head, thankful he hadn't committed to shaving it all off because he really did have a nice head of hair.

You couldn't quite explain what had made you do it, only that you felt compelled to do so. But now here you were, two years into your relationship, just glad to have a part of him with you at all times.

"Guess I'm just your biggest fan", you shrugged with a smile that makes Eddie grin back at you

"You gonna give me some of yours then?", he asks, eyes hopeful as you deepen your smile at him in return.

"Get the scissors"

[lovrre]

|HAUNTED

Wally Clark x blk female reader

Word count: 6k.

Warnings: cursing, mentioned of death, smut, unprotected sex, a little bit of cock warming, slightly rough. And probably some other stuff

Summary: The ghost of Wally Clark has been stalking Y/N since she step foot inside of Split River High, his obsession only growing as the years went on. During her last year of high school Y/N finally gets to meet secret admirer…

Author note: I found this in my draft from early season one and haddd to finish it because it's so good, this is also like very season one Wally which isn’t that different but it’s differentt!. This wasn't supposed to be so long but now you understand why it took 8 years enjoy pookies.💋

Wally watched kids come in and go from that school year after year and had no interest. Until you, you had a presence that demanded attention, and he had no issue giving it to you. Your pretty face, smooth skin, and sweet laugh were enough to keep him intrigued for a lifetime. He knew you couldn’t see him, but he didn’t care, he’d follow you from the minute you walked on campus to the moment you went home. He’d read your friends' texts over their shoulder to see if you were still coming and if you were even a minute late.

Sometimes, when you’d fall asleep in the study hall, he’d sit next to you and play games on your phone and pretend you knew he existed. (He knew your password, of course). Sometimes he’d go through your messages and notes to get a better understanding of you. At first, he felt guilty, but then it became the highlight of his day. Seeing pictures of what you did outside of school and who you hung out with. What boys were you talking to too? He knew it was silly, but he got jealous every time he opened your phone to see you were texting your ex again.

“C’mon girl, what happened blocking his ass?” Wally mumbles, putting his feet up on the table in front of him. You mumble something like you can hear him and Wally sits quietly for a second, enjoying the fantasy.

It was a Friday and your best friend convinced you to keep her company at the football game as she cheered for her boyfriend. You usually didn’t come to games, but you weren’t opposed to it. You sat on the cold bleachers trying to concentrate on the game even though the cold ass air blowing in your face was making it almost impossible. Kat was getting you two hotdogs. So Wally decided to keep you company, (even though you couldn’t see him). During the game, your eyes drifted to a Wally Clark memorial on the scoreboard.

“Who’s Wally Clark?” You ask the empty seat next to you, forgetting Kat was away getting the hotdogs. When the words left your mouth, Wally felt like his heart dropped in his stomach. He didn’t know how to react. When you remember Kat left, you pull out your phone to Google. Wally looked over your shoulder into your phone intently as you searched for “Wally Clark Split River High School” in the Google search bar.

Wally couldn’t help but celebrate at just the idea of you knowing he even existed. He watched as he read an article with his least favorite picture in the upper right corner. “Aww…he was such a cutie,” you say, letting out a small sigh. “You think?” Wally asked with a big smile on his face, forgetting for a second you couldn’t hear or see him.

“That line was long as hell”, Kat says, waddling through the bleachers with two hotdogs in hand. “I told you to wait until half-time,” you say, taking a hotdog from her. “Then it would have been WORSE if that was even possible,” Kat says getting herself situated. “Probably,” you say slightly muffled taking a bite of your hotdog. Wally watches everything in awe, just happy he’s been acknowledged, and called cute. You finish chewing and wiping your face with a napkin Kat brought. “You ever heard of Wally Clark?” You ask, stuffing the napkin in your pocket. “The guy's name on the banner thingy?” Kat asks seconds away from stuffing her hotdog in her mouth. “Yeah, I just looked it up, he was a footballer player here in the 80s, he got tackled on the 5-yard line and broke his neck, died on the scene, ”

“ Technically I didn’t-“ Wally tries to cut in.

“-Damn,” Kat says, still muffled by the hotdog in her mouth. “I know, right? "He was a cutie too”, you say, showing Kat the picture of your phone. “DAMN”, Kat says, mouth still full. “Right?” You say, nodding with a smile of agreement. Wally sat behind you smiling ears to any of the other ghosts he’d look insane. “Rest in peace beautiful”, Kat says, finally swallowing her food, looking up at the sky, shaking her head from side to side. You laugh and do the same. “Ooo you should do one of your rituals and try and connect with him like you did with Lee,” Kat says, taking a sip of her drink.

“Hard pass,” you say, trying to return your focus on the game in front of you.

“Why not?” Wally and Kat say at the same time. “It worked, didn’t it? "You can have a hot ghost friend?” Kate says before taking another bite. “ Yes, but I don’t do that shit anymore, I get nightmares,” you say taking another bite of your food. “Welp, who’s winning ?” Kat says sitting back slightly returning her attention to the field. “I have no idea,” you say making the both of you laugh.

On Monday you stayed after school a little later to study. You only did three assignments before passing out like you usually did. Wally had been a bit busier so he didn’t have time to watch you as intently. As he usually did, but when he found you in the library, he pulled out the chair next to you and started doodling on the edge of your paper. Once he was bored with that, he picked up your phone and started his daily scroll. He scrolled through TikTok for a minute, then Instagram, and found nothing fascinating. Then he went to your camera roll and his heart dropped. There were pictures after pictures of him. You went on a deep dive after the game. Something about Wally felt familiar, you just wanted to know everything. You found out his mom was your neighbor and that you two even shared a birthday. You wonder if you were born at the same time as you were friends or if was he the dick jock type.

“Someone’s got a crush”, Wally says smugly, scrolling through the screenshot of him on your phone. You quickly jump out of your sleep like you’ve heard a loud noise. You jump back once your eyes land on Wally. “Can you see me?” Wally asks, unable to hide his excitement at the possibility. “Excuse me? "Is there any reason in particular you’re so fucking close to me WHILE I'm SLEEPING?” Wally tries to answer but just starts stuttering. He looks familiar to you, but you don’t know where you're from. “AND WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE MY PHONE,” you say, attempting to grab the phone outside his hand. Your hand goes straight through his palm like he’s not even there, and you try the same thing again. And suddenly it hits you, “the football player?” You say not even sure of yourself.

Wally gives a small nod the fear from your interaction seconds ago still on his face. “Oh, this is a dream” you smugly laying back on your seat. “No, I don’t think-“ Wally starts, but is cut off by you. “No, I have these sometimes when I get obsessed with something,” you say laying your head back on the table. “You’re obsessed with me?” Wally asked the big smile from earlier right back. “Obsessed is a big word,” you say putting your head down” A word that YOU used,” Wally says with a smirk.

“Doesn’t matter because this is a dream” you say, closing your eyes.

“It’s not”

“It is”

“It’s not!”

“It is!”

“ it. Is. not”

“Yes.it.is.”

“Are you OK sweetheart?” the librarian says, placing her hand on your shoulder. Suddenly, you become very aware of the fact that you have been yelling. “Yeah, sorry I was just trying to tell-“

“-Good, good because I overheard you talking to yourself. "I was worried you’d lose it”, she says with a small chuckle.

“Oh uh… I talk in my sleep sometimes, it’s terrible, eyes open and everything. "Thanks for checking up on me though,” you say with a tight-lipped smile, before beginning to quickly pack up your stuff, internally panicking. “Nice save”, Wally says when she finally leaves. You ignore him speedily, walking out of the library. 

“Hello? Y/n, can you still see me” You continue to ignore him walking to a hidden corner of the school. “HEY, HEY, HEY I know we got off on the wrong foot but don’t ignore me that’s brutal”. You quickly pull your phone out of your pocket holding it to your ear. “Hello?” You say almost embarrassed. “You know the phones off right?” Wally asks scrunching his face in confusion. “Yes dumass, I’m trying to not look completely insane,” you say trying to keep your voice down.

“Oh,” Wally says sounding a little defeated. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be a Dick, I’m just not trying to go back to a mental hospital,”

“You’ve been to the nut house before?” Wally asks lifting an eyebrow. “Yes, and nobody calls it that anymore,” you say walking down the hallway phone still to your ear. “Oh, my bad,” Wally says trying to keep up with you. “it’s ok you didn’t know,” you say checking the time on your phone. “Shit I gotta go,” you say walking a bit faster, “wait wait wait,” Wally says standing in front of you in an attempt to keep you from leaving. “I’ve been watching you since sophomore year, And I know how weird and crazy that sounds but you don’t know me I think I know you pretty well, And I don’t know if you know this but, “This” he gestures between the two of you.

”isn’t normal, This isn’t like an everyday occurrence, I haven’t spoken to a Living person since the 80s. So I’d like to talk to you before you run back home” Wally says speaking a mile a minute.

“Wally- Wally right?” You say slightly unsure. He nods “Well Wally, I’d love to, I really would but this just seems like it’s gonna end up with me on more medication than I’m already on or a 48-hour involuntary hold wearing grippy socks. I don’t know if you know this but TALKING to ghosts is also something that doesn’t happen every day, and quite frankly I don’t know if you’re real or some hallucination, and I’d rather not find out.” You say walking away from him.

“Wait- let me prove it to you,” Wally says catching up to you.

“How will you do that?”

“Just follow me”

Wally runs ahead down the empty hallway and you follow him until you two stop in front of your now-empty history class. “Open it,” Wally says gesturing for you to turn the knob. You do and surprisingly it opens, you’re greeted by a dark empty classroom. “Why am I here again?” You ask Reaching for the light switch. “No, Don’t turn it on,” Wally says with his hand slightly outstretched. “The janitors walk past this room a lot and they’ll come and check if the lights are on, use your phone flashlight,” Wally says jumping up to sit on the teacher’s desk. “ok…” you respond with a nod and drop your hand from the light switch.

“How does this prove you're real again?” You ask turning on your phone flash. “Because I’ll tell you exactly what’s in Mr. Kankerys desk,” he gives it two hits to bring attention to the desk under him. “then you’ll check and if I’m right, which I will be, because I’m real, Dead, but real” Wally says with a chuckle,

“ok, what’s in the desk?” You ask walking a little closer to Wally. “ wait, Stay over there” Wally says jumping off the desk and opening the drawer. “Ok so…there’s a stapler on the left next to some color-full sticky notes and a blue calculator.

There are also a couple of old lady candies scattered around. “Ok, you’re turn,” Wally says moving from behind the desk. You walk behind the desk and open the drawer to see exactly everything Wally described. “shit…it’s all here” you mumble under your breath. “Is that a bad thing?” Wally asked confused by your reaction. “I don’t know…what if I saw what was in his desk while asking for help or something and just imagine you looking at I’m just talking to myself right now.” You say your words coming out a mile a minute. “We both know you haven’t walked up to Mr. Kankerys in at least 4 months,” Wally says stealing candy from his desk.

“Yeah…..Wait how do you know?” You ask scrunching your eyebrow in confusion before quickly remembering. “Oh yeah…that whole stalking me since Sophomore year thing,” you say walking from behind the desk. “Uhhhh I wouldn’t call it stalking, more like admiring from a distance…or sometimes not so distant,” Wally says walking slightly closer. “Oh!” You say surprised. “So You’ve been watching me sleep and stuff?” You ask slightly worried. “No, no, no,” Wally rushes out. “Nothing like that, I can’t even leave here”

“Like at all?” You ask walking out of the dark classroom. “Like at all,” Wally says following behind you. “So what happens when you try to leave?” You ask walking down the hallway to your locker. “I just poof back on the field where I died,” Wally says still walking behind you. “Damn…so what can you do,” you ask opening your locker. You lock eyes with a janitor at the end of the hall and he gives you a worried slash weirded-out experience. “Shit, I forgot,” you mumble pulling out your phone and placing it in the crook of your neck. “Sorry to say that again I couldn’t hear you,” you say desperately trying to look normal. He walks away but you keep the phone up to your ear.

“ to answer your question, not much, I can eat, I can interact with everything, but it just won’t change the living world. Like with your phone, I can pick it up on play on it but as soon as you leave with it, it leaves too” Wally says leaning against your locker as you stuff your book bag. “ OMG YOU WENT THROUGH MY PHONE TOO!” you yell almost dropping the phone from your shoulder. “Ummm” Wally hums not knowing how to answer. “…yeah, but not like in a creepy way, like in an I’m bored I have nothing else to do way,” he says trying not to scare you off.

“Okkk….well it was nice to meet you Wally, but the sun is almost completely down and I have to get home before that happens so... I think this is where we say our goodbyes,” you say putting on your coat. “Can we hang for just a little longer, I haven’t talked to a living person in yearssss, Years y/n, PLEASE just 20 more minutes” Wally asks almost begging.

“I can’t, I wish I could but I have to get home before my mom goes to work” Wally's face visibly drops “Here let’s make a Deal,” you say closing your locker. “We meet again tomorrow at lunch, in the library”

“What if it doesn't work?”

“Then it was nice to meet you,” you say with a smile

“But I have soo many questions,”

“Well you can ask me while I walk,” you say putting on your book bag and being your walk away.

“Are you a Chris still together?”

“Wow you really know all the tea”

“Yes or no times ticking” Wally says tapping on his bare wrist.

“No, we broke up last month”

“Did Kat ever find that expensive bracelet?”

“No, she didn't”

“ ok, I know The pink haired girl who used to be in your class stole it”

“What-Anne?” you ask genuinely confused.

“ yep, she's been wearing it since the first semester, she added a K charm on it”

“Oh my god…I asked her about that too,” you say slightly shaking your head. By the existing doors. “are those all of your life-alternating questions?” you ask, the rays from the setting sun outside on the side of your face. “No, but I'll ask the rest tomorrow,” Wally says looking into your eyes. The pre-existing crush plus the sunlight make you look like an angel. “Tomorrow,” you say with a nod “It was nice to meet you, Wally,” you say giving him a sad smile. Wally watched you leave through the exit doors a for the first time in a long time he felt alive.

~~~~

The next morning you woke up more confused than you had been in a long time. Did you dream all of it, was he really a ghost, was everyone right were you actually a nut case? You didn’t know all the answers but you did know you were late for school. You hurried to get ready putting in a little extra effort just in l look case your hot ghost wasn’t a figment of your imagination. On the way to school, you picked up Kat and stopped for a Big burger.

“Is that all?” the worker asked over the speaker after you finished Kat's order. “Uhh, no could I also get two big burgers with extra cheese one with extra tomato” you order leaning your head out the window slightly. “Your total is $21.35 you can pull up to the next window. “Thank you,” you say before driving up the window. “Extra hungry today” Kat chuckles looking through her purse. “Didn’t eat dinner” you lie.

Lunch felt like it took years to arrive, as greedy as you were you never found yourself so excited for lunch. You convinced yourself it was because you wanted to know you weren’t crazy and not because you just wanted to see Wally again. You sat at your usual study table waiting for something, anything that showed signs of life or at least undead life but it was started to seem like you’d be eating two Big burgers for lunch.

“Miss me?” You hear from behind you making you jump. “Shit, sorry I didn’t want to scare you” Wally apologized quickly sitting down in the chair next to you. “What took you so long I was starting to think I really lost it,” you say slightly irritated. “You usually wait outside Kates class before lunch so I went there, and then when I got here you were reading that book you like so I didn’t want to interrupt and I usually just watch so-“ Wally cuts himself off taking in your facial expression.

“Too creepy?” He asks raising an eyebrow

“a little” you nod, you see someone watching from the corner of your eye so you put in an earbud. “You wanna go somewhere a little more private” Wally whispers “Here’s fine” you respond with a shrug. “Is it?” Wally asked looking around at the library packed with students.

“Come on, I know a place,” Wall says standing up. “I’d like to remind you that people can still see me, please don’t lead me anywhere that can get me expelled,”

Wally leads you to a room on the first floor hidden behind some old door in a corner of the school you haven’t seen before. “You think anyone saw us-well me” you correct “I don’t think so, and there are no cameras in this wing, hasn’t been updated since the 90s,” Wally says cutting on the lights to reveal a slightly dusty old teachers' lounge that looks more 70s than 90s.

“You hang here often?” You say dusting off an orange couch before sitting down. “Only when I want some privacy,” Wally says sitting next to you on the couch while also giving you your own space. “ why would a ghost need privacy?” you chuckle. “I mean I still” Wally starts but you cut him off “Eww on this couch,” you say laughing “No, no, not that- well that too, but I mostly come here when I don’t want to be bothered”

“Bothered by who? Are there other ghosts?” You asked interested “Yep, there’s a good bit of us here” You scrunch your face in confusion as you take the burgers out of your bag, “ I wonder why I can only see you,” you think out loud grabbing your water bottle. “Maybe we have a special connection?” Wally suggests with a flirty smile “Maybe” you shrug looking for napkins in your bag.

“Is that for me?” Wally asks pointing to the other burger you put on the coffee table. “Mmh” you nod with a mouthful, Wally grabs the burger unwrapping it excitedly.

“A Big burger with extra cheese and tomatoes, I haven’t had one of these in forever” Wally announces excitedly before taking a big bite. “How did you know?” Wally asks his mouth still full. You finish chewing before answering, “You said you could eat and I read it was your favorite on your obituary” you say before taking another bite. “Who’s the stalker now?” Wally says with a smug smile as he takes a bite. “Still you” you respond covering your half-full mouth causing him to chuckle.

This had become your routine—lunch in the lounge with Wally. Kat had a different lunch period, so she never questioned why you always ate alone. Some days, you grabbed food from the cafeteria; other days, Wally asked you to bring something special, something he hadn’t eaten in years. You quickly learned that while he could interact with food, he couldn’t consume it in the living world. So, you shared. It was an odd arrangement, but you liked it. You liked him.

~~~

The air was crisp as you stepped outside, the garbage bag swinging lightly in your grasp. The scent of damp leaves lingered in the evening breeze, the sun close to setting. As you reached the trash bins, a movement from the neighboring yard caught your eye.

An old woman, frail but steady, stood just outside. Shimming a blue cardigan over her shoulders. Her white hair was neatly curled, and her wrinkled hands trembled slightly as she gripped the railing. You had seen her before, countless times, in passing but it wasn’t until now that recognized her.

Wally’s mother.

You stopped in your tracks at the realization. You had seen her picture before, in old articles and on Wally’s obituary. His only family. The woman who had pushed him to be the best, and in doing so, had lost him forever.

She glanced up, her tired eyes meeting yours.

“Evening,” she greeted her voice kind but carrying the weight of loneliness.

You hesitated before offering a sweet smile. “Evening, ma’am.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Her expression brightened, and she took a few small steps toward you. “I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced,” she said. “I’m Mrs. Clark.”

You nodded. “I’m Y/N. I live just over there.” You gestured toward your house behind you.

“Oh, so close!” she mused, then chuckled softly. “I swear, I hardly know my neighbors these days.”

There was something achingly sad about the way she said it. Before you could dwell on it, she clapped her hands together suddenly.

“I just was making dinner and made a little too much stew,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Would you like to come inside? It’d be a shame to let it go to waste, if you don't eat it, it'll just get frozen, lost in my abyss of a freezer.” She chuckles

You hesitated, but the eager look in her eyes made it impossible to refuse. “Sure,” you said with a small smile.

Her home smelled warm and like spices and slow-cooked broth, a scent that wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. The house was modest but well kept, though there was an undeniable emptiness to it. You could tell it was once a home. Old school Pictures of Wally and other family members decorated the wall. Wooden steps worn out in the middle from years of use, you imagine Wally walking up and down them, as a child or teenager leaving for school and such.

“So, what school do you go to, honey?” Mrs. Clark asked as she placed the bowl in front of you breaking you out of trance.

“Split River High,” you answered, picking up your spoon.

Her hands stilled slightly before she sat across from you. “My son went there,” she said, her voice softer now. “He… passed away some years ago. On your football field.”

You nodded, feigning a casual curiosity. “Wally Clark right? I’ve heard of him.” You downplay, “my teacher said he was a great kid very…personable” you chuckle.

Her eyes brightened slightly, followed by a sad smile. “He really was” She rose suddenly, moving toward the bookshelf. “A lot of people don't know but Wally was quite the handsome young man, he used to have girls line up at the door” His mother reminisced with a chuckle. “ should have seen the flowers those girls left on my porch after the wake” she chuckles, “but it was Girls like you he especially liked”

“Like me?” You ask slightly confused

“Pretty girls,” she clarified “With nice smiles and brown skin, he’d like you ,” she says causing you to involuntarily smile. “can see him now in mind catching glimpses of you across the living room, stuttering over his words” she smiled again to herself.

“I have pictures! Would you like to see them?” She asks breaking herself from her trance.

Before you could answer, she was already pulling out a large photo album. She settled beside you, flipping through the pages with a kind of reverence only a mother could have.

And there he was, Wally. His grin was the same, full of cocky charm, his big brown eyes bright with life. In one photo, he stood in his football uniform, helmet tucked under his arm. In another, he was just a kid, quite the chunky one , no older than ten, holding up a trophy with pride.

“This is when he was still my chunky monkey,” she chuckles finger tracing the picture. “Used to scarf down damn near the whole kitchen before he hit puberty and got tall, I told him my kitchen was not an all you can eat”

It was your turn to chuckle “his appetite was always big?” you smile.

“always” she responds amused flipping the page. She landed on a picture during a college tour, the together smiling holdings flags with the school logo.

“He was such a determined boy,” Mrs. Clark said, her voice thick with emotion. “determined to make me pleased”. She sighed, her fingers ghosting over a picture of him laughing at his last birthday party, cake on his chin. “I pushed him too hard”

You swallowed, unsure what to say.

Instead, you listened.

You listened as she told many stories bout his stubbornness, his humor, and his love for extra cheese on everything. About how he’d sneak out past curfew, how he once tried to fix a broken fence and made it worse, how he never left the house without saying goodbye.

And for a moment, Wally wasn’t just a ghost. He was someone’s son. Someone’s whole world.

You stayed longer than you meant to, eating warm stew and flipping through pages of his life. When you finally left the comfort of the couch to use the bathroom, you walked past an open room door. The light blue walls of a room catch your attention. You reverse taking two steps back, curiously, and you peek inside, before checking down the steps to see Mrs. Clark seated on the couch. You open the slowly sliding into the room. “ it was undeniably Wally’s. Almost every genre of Old movie poster scattered the wall, two or three tasteful Playboys, footballs, and metals on top and the floor of his dresser.

You walked over to his bed, sitting on it softly imagining what it would be like to be here with him, watching him fill the space of the small room. You looked around the room Against your better judgment you bent down to smell his pillow hoping Ms. Clark was still downstairs. you inhaled the smell of old wood almost masking his sent, it was so light you almost didn't catch it, a mixture of cologne like a musk and grease most likely from his hair. All these years later and you could smell Wally on his sheets. You savor it for as long as you can without being overly creepy, not knowing if you’ll ever get the chance to smell him again.

You stand up from the bed looking around once more, an untouched prom suit hanging in the closet stopped you in your tracks cause your chest to tighen, how was it possible you were grieving someone you could still speak to every day? You turn your attention to his wooden desk filled with a bunch of items. Old movie tickets, sketches, and lots of composition notebooks. A gold ring catches your eye, lying on top of some dog tags you assumed belonged to him grandfather.

“You can take something, if you see anything you like,” Ms. Clark says behind you causing you to jump slightly. “ I've been meaning to donate some of this stuff but…” her words die out in her throat. “I think he’d like the fact some pretty girl to have something of his more than another old lady at the goodwill,” she says with a smile. “Ok, I‘ll look,” you say with a smile, with that, she turns on her heel back down the stairs. You take the ring and on of the beat-up composition notebooks. On you way out you see a blue jersey poking out of his bottom drawer, you quickly take the jersey stuff it into your purse.

“It was nice to meet you Ms. Clark” you say with a tight smile.

“You aswell” she responds with a small nod, “feel free to visit whenever” she suggestes with a hopeful smile.

“Of course I will, you know where to find me if you never need anything”

You're Goodbye to Ms. Clark is a sweet one filled with tight hugs and a promise to visit, you left feeling like you gained a friend and simultaneously also like you lost one.

The next day, you sat in the lounge, eating off your lunch tray in front of you, Wally moving in close behind you, leaning over eating a fry off the tray, using another to balance on his fingertip.

There was something there between you two an electricity you felt even through his undead body. But you knew better than to act on it. Wally was a ghost, and you were alive. It could never work.

That didn’t stop you from noticing him, though.

And it definitely didn’t stop him from noticing you.

Like today. It was hot, so you had on a tube top, your braids pulled back into a ponytail—exactly how he liked. Your shorts were just a couple of inches shorter than the dress code allowed, but Wally wasn’t complaining. At the end of the day, he was still a teenage boy. Correction: a horny teenage boy.

“I met your mom last night.”

The fry slipped right through his hand and onto the floor.

“What?” He sat up, his full attention now on you.

You told him everything, minus what you felt didn’t need to be shared(aka sniffing his sheets and stealing clothes)

Wally was silent, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well It’s good to hear you’re getting along well with the in-laws,” he muttered. “OH MY GOD Wally ” you yelp “Can you be serious for one moment?“ he doesn't respond staring at you blank-faced.

“What?” You ask genuinely confused.

“That was me being serious” Wally responds causing you to roll your eyes.

“Did She pull out the albums, ?”

You nodded. “ Yep, and She has all of your stuff exactly how you left it.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips before fading into something sadder. “She was always sentimental even though she hate to admit it.”

You hesitated before reaching out, your fingers passing through his arm. You sigh internally “She misses you.”

His jaw tightened. “Yeah. I miss her too.”

A pause. Then, in a softer voice, “Did she seem… okay?”

“She’s lonely,” you admitted. “But she’s holding on.”

Wally let out a slow breath, leaning back against the couch. “I always figured she’d move away. Start fresh somewhere. Guess I was wrong.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you let the silence settle between you.

Then, after a long moment, Wally chuckled, shaking his head. “You really sat there, eating my mom’s stew, flipping through my childhood like some kind of undercover investigator?”

You smirked. “I do my research.”

He laughed at that, a genuine, full-bodied laugh that made the weight in the room feel lighter.

“Damn,” he said again, shaking his head. “I wish I could’ve seen her and you together .”

You looked at him then, his usual bravado had cracked just enough to let something real slip through.

Maybe, just maybe, the ritual was a possibility.

Your eyes returned down to the leftover food on. Your tray, you took about fry dipping it in your ketchup mayonnaise concoction before offering Wally. You didn't notice at first but a bit of mayonnaise fell on your lip. “You finished?” you asked, completely unaware of the effect you had on him. He bit his lips holding back his inappropriate joke. Unaware You wiped some mayonnaise from the corner of your mouth, and Wally’s eyes tracked the movement, laser focused on your lips.



“Yeah I feel bloated,” he joked, forcing himself to look away.

“Ghosts can get bloated?” you giggled, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“This ghost can,” he said, flopping onto the couch across from you. In reality, he wanted to lie on your couch rest his head on your thighs, and let you play in his hair. A fantasy he kept to himself when he was bored.

But today, something was different. Maybe it was the heat. Or the thought of you being in his room touching his things or Maybe it was the way you looked at him through your lashes, sipping your drink, eyeing him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. Whatever it was, the words slipped out before he could stop them.

“I wish I could touch you.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Where did that come from?” you asked, chuckling, trying to keep your cool. Wally let out a breath. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but now that it was out there, he wasn’t going to take it back.

“Do you think… if we had met under normal circumstances, you’d like me?”

Your fingers tightened slightly around your cup. “Like, or like like?”

“Like like,” he clarified.

You took a moment, pretending to think about it, but you already knew your answer. “Well, I wouldn’t have started a fan club in your honor or anything, but…” You popped a fry into your mouth, shrugging. “You’re attractive. And nice. I could maybe see myself having a little crush.”

Wally sat up straighter, intrigued. “You think I’m attractive?” He says with a cocky smile. You roll your eyes “And you maybe could’ve had a crush on me?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, You just seem like you’d be a good boyfriend,” you admitted.

Wally grinned, leaning forward. “I’d be the best boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, suddenly animated. “I’d carry your books—well, your laptop, ’cause let’s be real, who uses books anymore? I’d pick you up for school in my car, you’d love it. I had a black 1970 Chevrolet Monte Carlo, sleek as hell. We’d go on so many dates and trips, plus unlike Chris, I’d have no problem posting you on my Instagram.” He said, causing a laugh from you.

“Chris was a dick”

“Chris was a double dick,” Wally corrected. You chuckle into your hand causing Wally's face to scrunch in confusion, “What?” Wally asks like a lost puppy. “your age is showing” you laugh again unable to contain yourself. “ no one says that anymore, actually don't think anyone ever said that”

“ Well, I’m trying to say You deserve someone better, someone who is proud shows you off, Thst woudn't be a problem for me.”

You stared at him for a beat too long, your pulse fluttering. It was stupid, how easily he got to you. How easily he made you want.

“Too bad you’re dead,” you say as a joke but you sound more disappointed than you intended. “Right” Wally mumbles coming to sit next to you, bored or out of curiosity he begins trying to poke your arm, and when that doesn’t work he starts mindlessly putting his whole hand through your body. “What are you doing ?” You ask confused. “Hoping for a miracle,” Wally says throwing his head back. “There has to be a reason only you can see me, this doesn’t just happen,” he says. “I mean you’re not the first ghost I've spoken to” you admit.

.“What? You’ve talk to other ghosts?” Wally asks surprised and slightly jealous. “Well one other ghost, my older brother Lee” you say putting your cup on the coffee table. “I remember you saying something about that at the football game” Wally recalls

“You were there too?” You ask surprised “ I go with you everywhere y/n, we’ll accept the bathroom” he confessed “That’s…good to know,” you say with a smile, it was weird but you felt a sense of comfort knowing he was always around even when you couldn’t see him, like a guardian angel. “How did you speak to your brother?” Wally asks breaking you out of your daze,

“I did a ritual,” you admit. “Something my great grandma told me about. She told me where descendent from witches but she’d never really told me the history behind it. She’d flip through her big old book telling me what each spell did what.She also told me never to do it, that the spell, that lt was too unpredictable. But he died so suddenly, he had a heart defect he had always dealt but I thought it had gotten better. he Just went to sleep one night, coming back from some frat party and never woke up. He was away at college at that time an just had no closure. I just wanted to talk to him one last time, to tell him how much I loved him and missed him.”

Wally stays quiet, watching you. He never thought it was possible to feel so close to something yet so impossibly far away. Some days, he wondered if it was better when you didn’t know he existed because now, being acknowledged but unable to touch, unable to truly be with you, felt worse than being invisible. All he wanted was to hold you close, comfort you.

“The spell worked at first,” you continue. “I got to talk to him. I even got to hug him, like really hug him as if he was actually alive.” you pause takinga breath. “But then… after it was like he haunted my mind. I’d dream about him calling me, begging me to help him, to let him free. Sometimes my dreams were just red, like blood, with his screams echoing in the dark. I’d wake up drenched in sweat, screaming my chest tight. It went on for over a month. And when I finally told my parents what happened, they sent me to a mental hospital.”

Wally listens, completely still.

“While I was there, I called my great-grandma and told her everything. She said it was because I disrupted his passing—that Lee didn’t want to leave, so he tried to use me to come back.” You exhale shakily. “I don’t know what she did, but I was told she came down from Louisiana for a weekend and when I got home, the nightmares were gone. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably chalk it all up to grief.”

Wally is quiet for a long time, his fingers drumming idly against his knee. You could tell he’s thinking, the gears in his head turning as he pieces something together. Then, suddenly, he sits up straighter, eyes locked onto yours with a determination in your eye.

“You could try it again,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“The ritual,” he clarifies. “You could try it on me.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “Wally—”

“I know what you’re gonna say,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “That it’s too dangerous. That it didn’t end well last time. But it’s

different with us.”

You raise your eyebrow slightly confused “How, exactly?”

He leans forward, his gaze intense. “Because I’m not like Lee. I don’t need to reach you through dreams, and I’m not trying to cling onto life, I already exist here, with you. You see me. You hear me. I just… can’t touch you.” His voice dips slightly, frustrated. “But maybe the ritual could change that.”

You exhale, shaking your head. “You don’t know that.”

“I don’t,” he admits, “but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

You hesitate, your mind racing. Every instinct told you this is a bad idea. This is exactly what your great-grand

Ma warned you about. But then Wally looks at you, really looks at you with his big brown eyes you know you’re gonna fold.

What if it worked?

What if, for once, things didn’t end in heartbreak?

You swallow hard, in an effort to push down the thought. “…I’ll think about it.”

A slow grin spreads across Wally’s face. “That’s not a no.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Monte Carlo.”

But even as you try to play it off, you can’t ignore the way your heart pounds in your chest, in anticipation Because deep down, you already knew, you were gonna do it.

~~~~

You placed Wally’s folded jersey on your vanity inside the circle of chalk you created, your new makeup brushes replaced with lit pink candles. You’d brought up the fire extinguisher from the basement just in case and left a window open so his soul could enter. You didn’t know how to feel, a part of you felt scared that you might do something wrong and not be able to talk to Wally again, or worse you’d stop his soul from possibly moving on. But there was another part of you that felt excited, excited to Really see Wally for the first time. Look into his alive eyes touch his skin, hold his hand possibly more.

You cleaned your room top to bottom, lit one scented candle took a nice everything shower, and put on your cutest pajamas. You felt more like you were getting ready for a sneaky link than a resuscitation, but it was always better safe than sorry.

“Might as well start” you say taking a deep breath walking up to your vanity. You quickly opened the old notebook belonging to your great grandmother. Reading over ritual once more, You prick your finger with a pin causing a small drop of blood to form. Putting down the pin you smear your blood onto a small bay leaf with your request scribbled on it before taking a match to burn it. You hold the burning bay leaf in your hand until it turns completely into ash. For some unknown reasons it didn’t burn you, honesty you couldn’t even feel the heat. You pace your ash covered hand on his jersey before speaking.

I would like to speak with Wally Clark” you say with your hand placed on his jersey eyes closed . When the words leave your mouth you feel a chill down your spine. “ I invite Wally Clark into my home, his spirit, and his flesh” As you speak you feel a gust of wind through your room, there was a sense of electricity running through you, you could feel it the strongest in your fingers. “I offer my blood as his living passageway, I invite him to breathe my air, live his life if only for tonight” As soon as the final words left your mouth the wind blew through your window blowing out your candles.

When You open your eyes you’re surrounded by mostly darkness, the only light being the fairy lights above your bed. Before you could decide what to do the candles were re-lit. But nothing, with your brother, his bracelet disappeared and he appeared right in front of you but now nothing. Just when you were about to start putting everything up you felt a tap. You scream turning around when your eyes land on him.

Your hands fly to your mouth. “WALLY!”

His eyes are wide, stunned like he barely believes it himself. “It worked.” His voice is rough, breathless. “I can’t believe it fucking worked.”

You practically launch yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck, feeling his warmth, his solidity, the realness of him. His arms come around your waist instantly, holding you tight, one hand sliding into your hair. He turns his head into the crook of your neck taking in your sent. “You smell so fucking good” Wally whispered absentmindedly into your ear. He genuinely couldn’t help himself.

His words causing you to feel a shiver all the way down to your core, you’d hope for your dignity say he stop. “Thank you” you whispered slightly breathless removing your head from his chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, pressing your hands against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. You look up at him, breathless. “It’s like you’re alive.”

“I feel alive,” Wally murmurs, his hand trailing down your back, gripping your waist.

You suddenly realize how close you are, how his body heat radiated against yours, how you could smell him, just like on his pillow some type of cologne and a natural warm, not quite musk but close something uniquely him.

Your breath shudders as your fingers mindlessly trail lower, brushing over his stomach.

You glance up, suddenly shy. “Sorry. I just… I never thought I’d be able to actually touch you”

“Don't Apologize.” he says with a big smile lifting the same hand to leave a quick Kiss on your knuckle, “How long does it last?” He asks his eyes falling to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“I don’t know, a couple of hours probably, with my brother we only had two, and during the ritual, his bracelet disappeared. So I had no way of contacting him again. But your jersey didn’t disappear so…”

“I could come back again” Wally finishes with a smile. “Yeah” you respond almost dazed staring at him, it wasn’t like you didn’t see him every day but it was different now, the scent of him now lingered in the air, and you could feel the body heat radiating off of him, it was different a good Different. “Wait…did you take my jersey?” Wally asks with a smug smile spreading across his face . “Maybe…” you say with a small shrug. “But I’m still the stalker?”

“Yes, exactly” you respond with a chuckle

“Right” Wally drags looking around the room “Your room just like I imagined it,” Wally says walking around. “Well with more teddy bears,” he says picking up a stuffed unicorn from the big stack of stuffed animals on your bed. “Don’t Judge, I remember your mom saying something about you sleeping with a Stuffy” you say taking the unicorn from him. “She told you about Stuffy?” Wally asked a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. “Mmh, she told me a lot of things”

Wally raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

You bit your lip, debating whether to indulge him. Finally, you shrugged. “She told me about your chunky monkey days,” you say with a sly smile. “She showed me pictures too” You continue pressing your lips together in an effort to hold your laugh.

The color drained from Wally's face instantly. “What” Wally muttered the embarrassment visible in his face. You chuckle at his reaction “Don’t worry, I think you looked cute with a little meat on your bone” you joke causing Wally to drag a hand down his face. “I can’t believe she showed you that”

You giggled,“ I think she just wanted someone to talk to, I told her I’d come over again to visit,” you say readjusting one of you’re figurines. “ will you?” Wally asks looking at you as he walks around the room. “ of course, we're friends now” you respond honestly. He smiled at you before returning his attention to your room.

You watched as he wandered around your room, fingers grazing your desk, your bookshelf, the little trinkets and photos you had scattered around. It was surreal seeing him interact with your world like this. Normally, he just hovered watching, talking, existing in a way that felt just out of reach. But now?

Now he was here.

Really here.

You couldn’t stop staring. His presence was tangible—the warmth of his body, the way the scent of cologne and old leather clung to him. His movements had weight. You could hear the soft shift of his shoes against your rug, the quiet exhale of his breath.

It made your heart race, It made you think.

“So,” Wally said suddenly, turning back to you. “You got me for a couple of hours. What now?”

You hesitated, a hundred different thoughts running through your head, but only one stood out.

“…Do you want to go for a drive?”

Wally’s expression flickered, something unreadable passing through his eyes before he grinned. “You serious?”

You nodded. “You had that whole speech about picking me up for school in your car. You loved that thing. If I were you, the first thing I’d want to do in a real body again is drive.”

Wally let out a low whistle. “Damn. You get me Girl”

You laughed, grabbing your keys from your nightstand. “Come on, before this shit wears off.”

The night air was warm, thick with the lingering heat of the day as you and Wally slipped outside. The street was quiet, the world oblivious to the impossibility of what you’d just done.

Wally looked around like he was seeing everything for the first time. The streetlights, the parked cars, the trees swaying in the faint breeze. He ran a hand over your car’s hood, fingers splayed against the cool metal, before turning to you with a soft smile.

“Shotgun,” he said.

You rolled your eyes but unlocked the doors, sliding into the driver’s seat as he got in beside you.

When you turned the key in the ignition, the dashboard lights flickered on, casting a soft glow over Wally’s face. He looked almost reverent like he was trying to soak in every detail. You pulled out of the driveway and onto the empty road, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

“This feels… insane,” Wally admitted, watching the streetlights blur past. “I forgot what wind felt like.”

You glanced over, watching the way he stuck his hand out the window, fingers cutting through the air like he was trying to hold onto it.

You smiled. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

He nodded, looking over at you. “You feel good.” Your breath hitched. Again Wally's brain spoke for him, as much as he enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face and the adrenaline of a late-night car ride. Nothing felt better than your small hands running down his chest, how your breast felt pushed up against him. For you It wasn’t just the words, it was the way he said them. Low, warm, like he wasn’t just talking about the drive. Like he was talking about you.

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“I—” You cleared your throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Wally didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, quietly, “Me too.”

You drove for a while, neither of you in a rush to get anywhere. The town looked different, a lot different than Wally remembered but somehow it also didn't. New stores sprinkled the streets, plazas new street lights, but the roads were the same, and when you turned the corner Big Burger was exactly where it had always been. Now remodeled of course, but the bench he sat at so many times in his youth was stationed in front of the restaurant right where he left it. at night the street were quieter, softer, like it existed just for you two.

After a few minutes, Wally reached for the radio, flipping through stations until he landed on an old rock song.

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

He grinned. “What? This is classic.”

You snorted but let the music play, the familiar tune filling the car. You let your mind wander to a reality, a different time where Wally would be driving, you’d be in the passenger seat fixing your makeup and singing to music while he drove you to school. A different reality where he wasn't a resurrected ghost.

Wally leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes for a moment, just existing. And he looked alive, real. The air between you was electric. It wasn’t just the thrill of the ritual working it was the way his presence filled your space now, the way he felt real in a way he never had before. You could hear the faint sound of his breathing, feel the warmth of his body near yours, and when his fingers brushed yours when you put the car in park—whether by accident or intent—you felt it down to your bones.

More real.

More dangerous.

You parked in the driveway, shutting off the engine. Neither of you moved to get out.

“…So,” Wally said, voice softer now. “Same time tomorrow?” he joked but a sense of seriousness laced his tone. You turned to look at him, taking in the way the porch light cast shadows over his face, highlighting his strong jawline, and the dark warmth in his eyes.

Something inside you snapped, the last string of restraint.

“…Yeah,” you murmured. “Same time tomorrow,” you said you're eyes lingering on his.

“You keep looking at me like that,” Wally murmured, “and I’m gonna start thinking real crazy.”

You swallowed, pulse hammering in your throat. “Like what?”

“Like maybe you brought me back for more than just a joyride.”

Your stomach flipped. He wasn’t wrong.

The truth was, you had imagined it. Countless times. What it would be like if he were alive if you could touch him. You’d pushed the thoughts away because they were pointless, but now? Now nothing was stopping you. So you did the one thing you’d wanted to do for weeks. You reached out, placed your hand on his chest, and felt his heart beating beneath your palm. His breath hitched.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

Your fingers flexed against him, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your eyes met his, and for the first time, you saw something different in them—something hungry.

“I don’t know how long I have,” he admitted, voice rough. “I don’t wanna waste a second.”

You exhaled shakily. “Then don’t.”

That was all the invitation he needed.

Wally was on you in an instant, his lips crashing into yours, all heat and desperation. His hands cupped your face, thumbs tracing your jaw as if he couldn’t believe you were real. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

He groaned when you pressed against him, his grip tightening. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” you whispered between kisses.

You stumbled back into your room, His hands were everywhere—your waist, your thighs, slipping beneath the hem of your pajama shorts, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped when he bit gently at your neck, his voice a low growl against your skin.

“I’ve been wanting you since the first time I saw you,” he admitted, his breath hot against your collarbone. “Every time you walked around in those tiny ass shorts, every time you licked your lips when you ate—fuck.”

You arched beneath him, dizzy with want. “I want you to fuck me so bad Wally.”

His eyes darkened. “Really?” he asks almost not believing it

You nodded. “Yeah.”

And he did. Wally quickly helped you remove your top, his eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you. "God, you're fucking gorgeous," he growled, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you onto the bed with him.

You straddled his hips, grinding down against the hardness you could feel his girth pressing against your core. "Someone's eager," you teased with a chuckle before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.

"You have no idea," Wally groaned into the kiss, his hands roaming your body, caressing and squeezing every inch of exposed skin. You broke the kiss, trailing your lips down his neck and chest, pausing to bite at the skin.

"Fuck, Y/N," he gasped, his hands fisting in your hair. Grinned up at him, giving him another bite before sliding further down his body. You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs and tossing them aside. His cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

You moan at the sight electricity running straight to your center. “oh my god” you whisper wrapping your hand around his shaft and giving it a slow stroke. Wally let out a low moan, his hips bucking up into your touch. His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust. You leaned down, running your tongue along the underside of his cock from base to tip. Wally cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. Emboldened by his reaction, you took him into your mouth, sucking him deep and swirling your tongue around his head.

"Fuck, Y/N," Wally panted, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Just like that. Your mouth feels so fucking good baby."

You continued to work him with your mouth, taking him deeper each time until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, but pushed through, determined to bring him to the brink. Wally's moans grew louder, his hips thrusting up into your mouth as you sucked him hard and fast. He didn’t push your head down, his hand coming to your head to gather your braids into a ponytail away from your face.

"I'm going to cum," he warned, his grip on your hair tightening. "Fu- Fuck shit Y/N, I'm cumming!" With a loud groan, he bucks his hips into your mouth as he pulsed in your throat his hot seed spurting down into your stomach. You swallowed it all, every single drop and you enjoyed the feeling of his warmth dripping down your throat. Continuing to suck him until he was well spent. Whiney mess above you until he was as gently as possible trying to pull you off of his dick. “shit baby” he says whining out a moan. “ I can't take anymore” he says his voice shaking slightly.

You released him from your mouth with a pop, licking your lips. “And I thought you were innocent, Now I definitely can't let you out my sight,” Wally chuckles before he pulled you into a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep as he tasted himself on your lips.

"Your lips are so soft" he smiles against yours. You breathed when he finally broke the kiss.

"I wanna try so many things with you." He groans, With a sudden move, he flipped you onto your back, settling between your legs. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading you open for him.

"You're so fucking wet," he groaned, running a finger through your slick folds. "You get wet like this from sucking me off” he chuckles ”I can't wait to taste you." He smiles excitedly. You squirm underneath him, his finger rubbing against your clit. “You like that?” he asks with grin Rubbing his fingers against your wet center the warmth making it hard to stop. Wally enjoyed watching as your chest rose and fell faster, the small moan you contained by biting your lip. “You want me to taste you?” He asks the cocky smile never leaving his face. You don’t respond, audibly nodding eagerly. “ I want to hear you say it” Wally says with a mischievous smile. “ I want you to taste me”

Wally shakes his head, “No baby say my name”

“ I want you taste me Wally” you comply causing him to groan in satisfaction. “Good girl” he smiles

With that He leaned down, burying his face between your legs and licking a long stripe up your slit. Before looking back up at you to savor your reaction. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. Your responses only spurred him on further

Wally groaned against your core lapping at you like a man starved. Looking back up every

once in a while to enjoy your reaction., every often to He circled your clit with his tongue, flicking and teasing the sensitive bud with his fast paced thumb until you were a writhing mess beneath him.

"Fu- Please, Wally," you begged, your hands fisting in his hair. "I can’t”

“You got it, baby, you can do it” he hummed against your cunt the vibration causing your leg to shake. “take this tongue, and ill give you this dick,” he groans talking you through it, his eyes locked onto your face. Sliding two fingers inside you and curling them just right. “Tell me how much you want it” he demands and you physically can't answer Your head falling back against the pillow. “ Tell me baby” he repeat. “ I want it so fucking bad baby” you moan out as he worked you with his fingers and tongue, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you were about to cum, he pulled back, leaving you panting and desperate.

"Not yet," he said with a wicked grin. "I want to be inside you when you cum." he groans positioning himself at your entrance. He pushes into you slowly enjoying the feeling of stretching you out until he was all the way inside, filling you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to maintain control. His hands roaming over your torso, “This is my pussy”

"You're so tight. So perfect for me." He groaned starting to move, thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper as you met him thrust for thrust. He wanted so badly to go harder to fuck you into the mattress until your legs were jello but he didn't want to hurt you.

"Harder," you demanded, digging your nails into his back. "Fuck me harder."

“ I won’t be able to stop” he warns with a chuckle and you nod in acknowledgment Wally complied happily, slamming into you with renewed vigor. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall as he pounded into you relentlessly. You were grateful your mom worked nights because you were sure your neighbors could hear you two. Wally looked down every so often to enjoy the sight of your wet cunt sucking him in. “ you take me so well baby”

"Don't stop," you cried, your walls starting to flutter around his cock. "I'm going to cum."

Wally reached between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit as he thrust into you. That was all it took to send you over the edge. You came with a scream, your body convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Wally didn’t stop chasing his orgasm pound into you until your cream coated his cock.

When he did cum he, burying himself deep, pulsing inside you. He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and sweat-slicked as you tried to catch your breath. You tried to move slightly his big now soft cock twitching inside you. “ let me stay in a little longer” he hums against your throat. His hands wander down to your waist. “ it’s so warm” he smiles against your skin bucking into you slightly, he thrusts two times before pulling himself out.

"That was... fucking incredible," Wally murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his damp curls. "It was," you agreed with a small smile.

“I don't think I’m not done yet," Wally confesses looking down between you at his somehow hard cock.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I want you from behind" Wally confesses with a smile biting at your shoulder causing you to giggle.

~~~~~

Later, when you lay tangled together in the sheets, your body still thrumming with pleasure, Wally traced lazy circles on your bare hip.

“We should make a deal,” he murmured.

You turned your head, meeting his gaze. “A deal?”

He smirked. “You summon me every night. And we do something new. Could be anything. A drive, a date, a movie…” He kissed your shoulder. “Or more of this.”

Your heart pounded. “Every night?”

“Every night,” he confirmed. “Until we figure out how to make this permanent. After tonight…” he paused his finger tracing down the spine of your back.”you're really never getting rid of me”

You turned staring at him, searching his face. He wasn’t just talking about sex he was talking about being with you.

You bit your lip. There was no way possible way this could end well but for some reason you responded  “Okay.”

His grin widened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

His fingers tightened on your waist, and he kissed you again, slow and deep. His body pressing hard against you.

Suddenly a hefty breeze hit your face knocking the air from your nose. And just like that, he was gone, a poof followed by a breeze left you alone in your bed, the warmth of his hands gone. The only proof he was there was the sticky slick between your thighs. You rolled over in your bed rolling yourself tight in your blanket tears stinging your eyes and as you drifted off to sleep you wondered…what would tomorrow bring and, how the fuck where you gonna explain this to Kat?

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

[harryssyndrome]

Snow on the Beach | h.s

summery: the day Harry found the inspiration for his debut album.

Word count: 1.1k || Masterlist 🌊❄️🩵

Posted on: November 16th, 2024

A small cutesy one-shot with pre-hs1 era from my draft🤭 so many more are coming out soon! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

The beach stretched out before Harry Styles, quiet and blanketed in snow. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this kind of stillness, this freedom. For years, his life had been a whirlwind of cities, stages, and sleepless nights. The demands of One Direction had consumed every moment, leaving little room for simple pleasures—like a walk on a winter beach.

But now, with the band on hiatus and the relentless pace of tours and interviews behind him, Harry had finally allowed himself to breathe. He had driven for hours, away from the chaos of the city, to find this hidden stretch of coastline. Snow on the beach was a rare sight, and something about it felt like poetry waiting to be written.

Clutching a cookie in one hand, Harry wandered along the shore, his boots crunching against the icy sand. He needed this—needed the quiet, the solitude, and maybe, just maybe, a spark of inspiration. His debut album was looming, the weight of it pressing on his chest. It was meant to set the tone for his solo career, the foundation for who he would become beyond the boy band. And yet, the words and melodies refused to come.

Harry trudged along the beach, his coat buttoned up tight, the cold biting at his cheeks. In his hand, he held a half-eaten cookie, savoring its sweetness as he gazed out at the frozen horizon.

He didn’t see the seagull coming.

With a flurry of wings and an indignant squawk, the bird swooped down, snatching the cookie right out of his hand. Harry jumped back with a startled yelp, the audacity of the bird leaving him wide-eyed and breathless.

“Oi!” he shouted, stepping back in surprise as the bird soared off with its prize. He stood there for a moment, wide-eyed and a little shaken, before a burst of laughter reached his ears.

Not far away, a girl sat on a rock, bundled in a scarf and hat. Her laughter rang out, light and melodic, the kind that warmed the coldest winter air. Harry turned to her, his initial indignation fading into something softer as he took her in. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her eyes sparkling with mirth, and he couldn’t help but feel a pull in his chest.

She tried to stifle it, raising a gloved hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she called out, her voice still tinged with amusement. “I know I shouldn’t laugh, but that was—” She broke off, laughing again.

Harry couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips. “Yeah, laugh it up,” he called back, brushing the crumbs off his hands. “Clearly, the seagulls here have impeccable taste.”

She tilted her head, feigning seriousness. “You think they prefer cookies to chips?”

“Apparently,” Harry said, walking toward her. “And they have no concept of personal boundaries.”

He reached the rock and hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside her. The cold surface seeped through his coat, but he didn’t mind. Up close, he noticed her cheeks were pink from the cold, her eyes bright and curious.

“I’m Harry,” he offered, holding out his hand.

“YN,” she replied, shaking it. Her gloves were thick, but her grip was firm.

“So, YN,” Harry began, tilting his head with a smirk. “Do you always make a habit of laughing at strangers, or was I just particularly entertaining today?”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “It’s not every day you see a man lose a cookie to a seagull. You’ve got to admit, it was kind of funny.”

Harry chuckled, leaning back on his hands. “I suppose it’s one of those ‘laugh so you don’t cry’ moments.”

For a while, they sat in companionable silence, the waves lapping softly against the shore. Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noting the way she seemed perfectly at ease, as if she belonged here.

“What brings you to a snowy beach?” she asked suddenly, her voice curious but gentle.

Harry hesitated, unsure how much to say. “I haven’t been to a beach like this in years,” he admitted. “Life’s been… busy. But now I’ve got some time off, and I figured I’d see what I’ve been missing.”

YN nodded, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying. “And? What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” he said simply, his gaze drifting to the horizon. “Kind of surreal, though. Snow on the beach—it’s not something you see every day.”

“No, it’s not,” she agreed, her voice soft. “It’s like the world is trying to remind us that even the unexpected can be beautiful.”

Her words struck a chord, and Harry found himself wondering if this moment, this chance encounter, was the kind of inspiration he’d been searching for.

“What about you?” he asked. “What brings you here?”

YN shrugged. “I come here when I need to think. Something about the snow and the sea—it clears my head.”

Harry nodded, understanding more than he could say.

They talked for hours, their conversation flowing effortlessly. They joked about seagulls, shared stories of places they’d been, and speculated on what kind of music snow would make if it could sing. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the beach in hues of gold and pink, Harry felt lighter, as if a weight he hadn’t realized he was carrying had lifted.

As the first stars blinked into the evening sky, YN pulled out her phone, glancing at the time. “I should probably head back,” she said reluctantly, standing and brushing the snow from her coat.

Harry stood too, not quite ready to let the moment end. “Wait—let’s exchange numbers,” he said, pulling out his own phone. “You still owe me a cookie, remember?”

YN grinned. “I did say I’d consider it, didn’t I?” But she handed him her number anyway.

He typed it in, then held his phone up. “I’ll text you, just to make sure you didn’t give me a fake one.”

She laughed. “And I’ll respond, just to make sure you’re not a seagull in disguise.”

As they said their goodbyes, Harry felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the weather.

“Promise me we’ll see each other again?” he asked, his voice softer now.

YN smiled, her gaze steady. “I promise.”

And as she walked away, her figure disappearing into the snowy twilight, Harry knew this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross.

Sometimes, inspiration came from the most unexpected places. And sometimes, it came with a seagull, a stolen cookie, and a girl named YN.

[intomepang]

you look so good in my clothes

summary: boyfriend!patrick taking care of you after a party warning: bit of sexually suggestive content note: hope you’re all having a great start of the year!! this has been sitting in my drafts and idk if i like it but i decided to post it anyway. (barely proofread!)

“patrick,” you slurred. it’s already past midnight as patrick half-carried you into your apartment, his arm around your waist as you heavily leaned against him. you were now giggling uncontrollably, the complete opposite of the grumpy mood you had been in earlier when he had to drag you out of the party. 

you halted, tugging weakly on his shirt as he tried to guide you through your apartment. "wait, stop," you said, your giggles fading into an exaggeratedly serious expression. patrick looked down at you with a raised eyebrow. "what is it?" he asked.

“pat, i think you’re sooooo sexy when you play tennis.” a sweet grin spread across your face as you glanced up at him. “especially when you’re, like, into it,” you slurred, the words tumbling. “the way you—ugh, when you’re all serious and sweaty and it just…” you trailed off, burying your face in his shirt trying to relive the image in your head. “it kinda… no it really turns me on.” you admit, voice muffled. 

patrick shook his head, unable to hide the smirk creeping across his face. the way your words tumbled out, he found you irresistibly cute in moments like this.

you pulled away, looking up at him. “honestly... i think i’d let you fu–mmmph!” your words are cut short as patrick gently pressed his finger to your lips. “alright, that’s enough baby.” he chuckled and took his finger off your lips to tap your nose, making you pout in response. you end up mumbling what you were trying to say, something about his racket, but he brushes it off.

“the things that come out of your mouth when you’re drunk…” he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with amusement as he guided you to the living room, careful not to let you stumble into the furniture. 

he tells you to sit still on the sofa and disappears into the kitchen. he returns with a glass of water, handing it to you “drink up before we get to bed.” you take a sip.

without another word he leads you to the room. the second the both of you enter, you wasted no time and collapsed onto the bed with a yawn, stretching your arms out. patrick stood by the end of the bed, arms folded across his chest, feeling a mixture of warmth and affection as he watched you.

"don’t sleep on me yet," he said. "i still gotta change you into something comfier.” 

patrick crouched down to take off your shoes first, with gentle movements to avoid shaking you too much. he straightened himself back up and glanced at your closet. he could've easily grabbed one of your oversized tees or pajamas, threw it on, and call it a night. instead, he turned toward the corner of the room where his overnight bag rested. it didn’t take long for him to find one of his favorite t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. 

"here," patrick murmured as he approached the bed with his clothes in hand, a little grin tugging at his lips. "let’s put these on, you'll be more comfortable." 

patrick pulled you to your feet and helped you out of your dress, his hands moving carefully as you giggled in a hazy bliss. he slid his boxers on you with the waistband resting snugly on your hips, and then pulled on his t-shirt, the fabric soft against your skin. as he tugged the shirt down, he took a moment to admire how you looked.

"you look so good in my clothes." patrick whispered, caressing his hand along your waist. he really wanted to have you right now.

"patrick," you whined with your cheeks flushed from more than just the alcohol. you quickly climbed into your bed and snuggled yourself into the blanket. "hurry up and change. i’m cold. get in bed with me already."

"alright, alright, bossy.” he chuckled, as he stepped away for a moment to change. he comes back and joins you under the covers, the bed dipping slightly with his weight. you immediately curled into his warmth, burying your face against his chest. he wrapped his arms around you securely, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your head. 

[abbysreal-wife]

In my feelings

Abby x Stripper!Reader

In my feelings

I’m cryin’ while I’m cumin’

makin’ love while I’m making good money

— Lana del Rey

Summary:: 20 years old, living alone, as a stripper. Not the best life. But meeting her. Made you feel like a teenager crushing on someone again.

Tags:: Dellie is in this story (brief though)

A/N:: There’s a whole ass fluff fic sitting in my drafts and here I am posting smut… 😞 I’m just a slut, part two will shortly be out so hang tight.

Dina is also a stripper but just for the storyline. Currently playing.. ————————————————————————

Dance.

Seduce.

Make money.

Normal routine for you. Being a stripper was something that you would’ve never thought of being. But everybody in your family hated you and left you nothing.

You were a Disgrace to them.

Broke the family tradition of being picture perfect when you came home at 5am so drunk you couldn’t feel your own legs. And your mom. Oh my goodness your mom. She hated you more than you hated yourself. She was your biggest hater “You know I know never even fucking wanted you. You were just a mistake.” That’s the last thing your mother said to you before you left, started a whole new life and became a stripper.

They Left you in your feelings. so you had to make money somehow.

A blond buff woman walked into the dimly lit club. The music loud enough to cause brain damage, an auburn women walked beside her.

Their height difference was almost alerting “you think you’re gonna have fun?” The short haired woman asked. The blonde gave her side eye not even answering. The woman scoffed “oh come on, you need to loosen up— she’s nudged her playfully “plus, I think we can meet some people here” she added.

The blonde woman still had a cold expression on her face. Eventually, Dina walked out from behind the beaded curtains, in a pink see-through dress and her hot pink set peeking out.

“How can I help you two ladies?” Dina gleamed “two people in please. For one hour.” The blonde woman spoke up, a slight smile finally breaking her cold look. The short haired woman snapped her head towards her “do two hours” The tall one rolled her eyes, reaching for her back pocket pulling out her credit card “two hours, please.”

Dina nodded, her attention facing the auburn haired girl “cool” she grabbed the black card out of the blonde girls hand ringing it through.

“Fuck, I forgot my blush at home” you curse to yourself silently before, ally handed you a pink blush, being the sweetheart she is. “Thank you sweetie” you gleamed at the brunette girl who was smiling while standing over you while putting the blush on Cassie burst in “angel, baby, your performance is next.” Your stage name was angel, but Cassie always called you angel baby. You finally touched up your makeup, glanced yourself in the mirror a few times and sprayed yourself with your perfume.

You pranced out the door the white lights giving the crowd just your presence and silhouette.

‘In my feelings’ by Lana del Rey started to play.

The sweaty men on the other side of Abby begin to whoop and laugh. You walked out in the black set, covering absolutely nothing. Your steps swaying side to side as your heels hit the ground.

You were moving in slow motion to Abby. And hell, she didn’t even know you.

Your tongue ran across your top teeth. In a teasing matter. Winking at the auburn and blonde woman beside each other. Then you started to move against the pole grinding and running your nails across it.

The music was running throughout your body.

It was like this every night, except a special woman had your eye.

After the performance you gave, the crinkled dollars in your waist band and bra strap were awfully uncomfortable, so you pulled them out and started to count them as you did, on the bar counter.

Then a finger found your shoulder “Excuse me, pretty lady, could we talk for a bit?”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

A/N:: spoiler alert. I reached my word limit. So here’s the fic cut in half, bare with me now 😕

@graciedollie @liliofabby @luvnette @look-me @cloudyorgy @ellieswife4ever @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @gay-jedis @korn-dawg @yokedtablet

if I forgot yew I’m sorry forgive me😕🙏🏾😞

[inky125]

Mary Linton and Jack Marston meeting in 1922

Okay but these are just my headcanons for the very improbable scenario that they end up bumping into each other in the future. / My headcanons for what they would do with their lives after the events of rdr/rdr2

(I'm going to explain them under the cut)

Okay so, starting with Jack:

I want to believe Jack lived a more or less normal life after killing Ross, successfully getting away with this one (1) murder, and having that as a skeleton in his closet. Not finding peace really, so the whole revenge thing doesn't fix his miserable life but he can go on to try to do something with his life. Gunslinging doesn't really have a place anymore here.

When the US joined WWI I know that boy DID NOT join the US Army, he would NEVER join the group that killed his dad, or make the same mistake as him and make a deal with the government. He would rather be jailed for dodging the draft, what will they do, threaten him with what? He has nothing to live for really, so they can't make him. I don't think he cares much if he gets shot (he has a like saying as much in rdr when he duels Ross).

After the whole jail thing he'd go back to a more or less normal life, I'd guess he would have to have a regular job and write whenever he's able (I want to believe that one Easter egg in GTA is canon...it is to me...), but I don't think he'd be able to make a living just from writing.

As for Mary, I always wondered why Mary was dressed the way she was during the credits cut scene in Rdr2. Because I'm guessing it takes place in 1907 (given that most cut scenes appear to happen at the same time more or less than the epilogue). But I wondered why Mary was dressing in black; I mean, during the Victorian era there were very specific mourning traditions, especially for women. Wearing black was pretty much a part of a social thing, you'd publicly mourn. The extension of your mourning would depend on who died and what was your relationship with them.

And here is the thing, Arthur had died 8 years ago by then, we could assume Mary had found out shortly after of his dead because newspapers in the Rdr2 universe love to brag whenever law enforcement/Pinkertons kill renown outlaws. (Even Arthur and Hosea get mentioned years later in some sort of article in 1907 too). And additionally, we know that Mary kept up with how the gang, especially Arthur, was doing through the news on the newspapers. So again, it wouldn't be crazy to assume she knew about Arthur's death back in 1899.

So then, why is she wearing a black dress to visit his grave in 1907?. Black is the color of mourning, but as far as I am aware (and correct me if I'm wrong) it was not required to visit a grave back in the day. So I like to headcanon Mary mourning Arthur like a widow, because widows would have to wear their black weeds for 2 years (there were different periods of mourning, for instance Mary's clothes could be classified under the 'half-mourning' type, meaning there has been at least 6 months since her loved one passed away, meaning she could now wear some jewelry, other colours, ect.

But here is a little extra, Queen Victoria popularized among some women the practice to never abandon their period of half mourning, and especially, keep wearing black the rest of their lives even if they move on, as a sign of love for their dead husband.

Mary and Arthur never got married, but I like to think Mary lived as a widow for him. Continuing with her life as normal, of course, but always having that bittersweet ache in her heart, dressing in black out of respect and love for him and the life they couldn't have. Even if she had wanted to move on from him after she realized they couldn't be together as Arthur wouldn't leave the gang, I think she would have folded if Arthur had gone after her (I mean she did re-initiate contact after they were supposed to never speak again), and I think she was still preparing herself emotionally when she heard the news that Arthur was dead, ironically not moving on from him.

She didn't remarry, Jamie made good money and maintained her, Mary knew the kind of life she didn't want and she could be respectable and old as a widow. Plus marrying someone new at her age would be a titanic task.

I think Mary kept her mother's brooch Arthur returned for her as her reminder of him, given that she returned the picture and the ring. In fact she's wearing it when she visits Arthur's grave in-game!. So I kept that

It just warms my heart to think of the very few people left who knew about the gang finding each other in usual ways. Maybe next time I'd do Sadie or Charles. I'm just a sucker for this kind of things

[rehabresorts]

Double Creature Feature - Millie and Moxxie Knolastname

Okay, real talk, despite the fact that Millie's been treated the same as Vagatha by the narrative I just was appalled about how many missed opportunities she was given but then taken away.

Call me a sucker but I HAD to do something. Because of how she was recently treated and from how Viv always had to do the thing she KNOWS would get people mad at her, I made Millie infertile. It's really upsetting that all Millie's known for is a scrapped suicide plot and a undeserved pregnancy arc. Infertility is something women go through and to know that Viv wasted a potential good story telling and awareness by making Millie more "goonable" I decided to change it. Also women with a huge loving family and a man with a small broken family was also a missed oppertunity too.

PleasantSpark Note: FUCK YOU TUMBLR MY ORIGINAL MILLIE AND MOXXIE POST DECIDED TO GROW WINGS AND DISAPPEAR, DKSFSJFSKLFJSDF FUCK FUCK FUCK IT SAVED AS A DRAFT BUT WHERE IT GO? Anyways OG had a joke where the image was copied from discord but was TOO BIG so I removed it and used the saved one from my GAY ASS PC.

Millie

Millie (nee Knoxford) had grown up into a family filled with loving members. A Trans Brother and a Trans sister with supporting family. It was a warm and loving family that she dreamed of having. Her family was interracial, her mother being Mexican and her father being African American. During an incident at the farm at 10 years old, Millie was burnt like her future boss Blitzo which led to her developing a fear of Fire. Before she married Moxxie, Millie had been in relationships and she found out she was infertile. Though initally heartbroken she decided now wasn't the time to think about something like that. After years of living with her family. Millie moved out and decided to hang around the Greed Ring where she met Moxxie. Moxxie was very shy and very meek. She and him grew close and later on they gotten married. Millie had taken Moxxie's last name, Knolastname and since his father had ties to the Mafia they had decided to join Blitzo's assassination squad.

Moxxie

We all know the stories, a young man growing to love his mother because his father was a piece of shit, yada yada yada, really, Crimson was a piece of shit he gave him shit advice and expected Moxxie to be just like him. Crimson and Moxxie's realationship is summoned best as Arthur and Clay's relationship, instead of seeking approval, he was seeking support and love. Moxxie was very attached to his mother who bailed him out and put Crimson in his place. Moxxie was half Latina and of course his mother was very strict but loving. The last he remembers of her is when she and his father argued and the last that happened was when he pushed a trunk overboard which led into the discovery of his mother's unconscious body there. His mother was killed or at least he hoped she was still alive but... She died probably. Moxxie since then lived with his father who tormented him and blamed HIM for his mothers death. Since then Moxxie ran away and joined I.M.P to get away.

[justmystyles]

Big Winners - Part 1

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x record producer plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 3,118

summary: Harry and Y/N have been friends for fifteen years, they finally work together on an album, and it leads them to a night that will change everything for them.

a/n: earlier this month, all the grammy memories popped up, and it inspired me to write this. i have a million half finished 'moment turned fic' stories in my drafts, but I actually managed to (mostly) finish this one. this is either going to be 2 or 3 parts, i still have a bit to finish, so we'll see.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Y/N and Harry met fifteen years ago, One Direction had been recently formed, and she was doing an internship at the studio where they were working on their debut album. She had befriended the entire band, but she and Harry clicked instantly, and formed a tight bond. 

They stayed close throughout the years. Harry’s career, both with the band and as a solo artist skyrocketed, while Y/N moved through the industry and had found herself producing some smaller projects. She rarely turned down an opportunity, taking on any work that came her way just to get the experience and the connections. Then, she received the offer of a lifetime. 

Once Harry had finished Love on Tour, he celebrated by inviting some of his closest friends and family to his villa in Italy for two weeks to relax and recharge. Y/N was one of the first people he asked. One night during the trip, Harry and Y/N snuck away from the group; it was intentional on his end, because he had something he was dying to ask her. 

As they sat on the moonlit beach shoulder to shoulder, their toes in the sand, Harry leaned over and bumped his shoulder against hers. “So, I’m going to be starting work on the new album soon.”

“Jesus Har, you’re not even finished with your recharge vacation and you’re already thinking about the next thing?” She chuckled. 

“You know I can’t turn it off.” He said with a sheepish laugh. “But there’s actually a reason I brought it up… I’ve been thinking about the direction I want to take, and who I want to work with, and I was wondering if you’d want to produce it for me?”

Y/N lets out a loud bark of laughter, startling Harry. “Good one.” 

“I’m serious.” He looks at her, and she can see that he really does mean what he says. 

“Harry, I don’t have production experience on that level.” She says, still in shock. “I mean, unless this is like a lullaby album or something.” 

Harry chuckles. “It’s not, but I know you can do it. I know your work, you’re so much more talented than you give yourself credit for. And sure, you haven’t got experience on my level, but you’re never going to get it if you don’t put yourself out there, who better to get the experience with than your best friend?” He says with a toothy, dimpled grin. 

“Literally anyone else?” She teases.

“Hey,” he whines with a furrowed brow. “You know you love me.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” The two of them are silent for a moment, while she lets his offer sink in. “You really want me to do this? You want me to be your producer?”

“That’s why I asked.” He scoffs. “But seriously, nobody knows me better than you, you understand me, you always push me when I need it, and you don’t take my shit. Imagine how that would translate to music. I think it could be something really amazing. Plus, we’d get to hang out a bunch.” 

“Ugh… you were making a good argument until you mentioned spending that much time together.” She says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes.

“Hey,” Harry says in a serious tone. “If you don’t want to do it, just tell me. But I really can’t imagine taking the next step in my career with anyone else.”

She sighs and smiles softly at him. “I would really love to work with you, Harry. If you’re sure, let’s do it.” 

His smile grows once again as he pulls her into a big hug. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 

A few months later, the two of them embarked on their first collaboration, Harry’s fourth studio album, and it was an even better experience than either of them thought it would be. They knew each other so well, that they were perfectly in sync with every chord and every lyric. By the time they had a completed album, they were both confident that this was the best work of their careers. 

They were so proud of what they had done that they didn’t care how it sold, or what the reviews said, they knew that they had created something magical and if they were the only two people that liked it, they couldn't care less. However, that wasn’t the case. The record was a hit; glowing reviews, great numbers, and the fans positively ate it up. 

Harry and Y/N’s friendship was one that was well known, his fans would go crazy everytime they were seen together, the fandom was constantly shipping them. So when they found out that she was producing the record, it amped up the anticipation tenfold. As soon as it was released, they were combing the lyrics, and criticizing every background vocal and sound to find any clues about the true standing of the relationship. Of course, there was plenty of speculation, but the truth wasn’t anywhere near as exciting as the conspiracies and analysis. They were genuinely just two best friends with creative minds that made something amazing together. 

Given the reception the album received, it was no surprise that, when award season rolled around, they received a generous amount of nominations. So here they were, in LA, sharing a hotel suite and preparing to attend the Grammy Awards. 

As Y/N sat down to begin the hair and makeup process, Harry stepped out to go for a run to clear his mind. He was nervous about what the evening would hold. Partly for his performance, especially given the mistake at the beginning of his last Grammy appearance in 2023. He had insisted on extra rehearsal time, and extended the production meeting to make sure that everyone knew exactly what needed to happen and when. But more than that, he wanted this night to be perfect for Y/N. He had won awards before, but this was her first time being nominated. When they had first met, Y/N had told him about her dreams and one of the things she mentioned was the Grammys. He wanted this for her more than he did for himself. And although he knew she had matured in the last fifteen years, and valued more than just accolades and awards, if he could be the reason one of her childhood dreams came true, that would mean more to him than anything. 

When Harry returned from his run, he saw Y/N sitting in the common area, her hair and makeup still being worked on. She locks eyes with him through the mirror. 

“Hey, did the run help?” She asks. 

Harry shrugs as he approaches her. “A little, still pretty nervous though.” 

“What’s making you nervous? The nominations, or the performance?” 

Harry thought about the best way to answer this question, he didn’t want to tell her that he was nervous for her. He knew that even though she was hiding it well, she was nervous too, and his nerves on her behalf would make hers worse. On top of that, Y/N was alway so sweet and empathetic, she would take it personally and see herself as the reason he was nervous and end up feeling bad. He didn’t want to put a damper on this night for her. 

“Mostly the performance, I guess.” He finally responds. 

She extends her arm out, wiggling her fingers in an invitation for him to take her hand. When he joins his hand with hers, she squeezes gently. “You’re going to be amazing. I’ve never seen you give a bad performance. You’re going to kill it, and I’m going to be right there in the crowd losing my shit for you, just like I always do.” 

Harry laughs at her pep talk. “You know this is an industry thing, not a concert, right? People aren’t exactly going to be losing their shit in the audience.” 

“Good, then it will be easier for you to notice me from the stage.” She looks over at him with a sweet smirk. 

“Like I could ever miss you.” He scoffs, squeezing her hand.

“You’re showering before you get dressed, right?” She asks with an arched brow, lightning the mood. 

“Not before I give you a big, sweaty hug…” He says, outstretching his arms and moving closer.

“Harry Edward,” she says in a warning tone. “I’m already forty-five minutes into getting ready, and still have at least thirty to go. I cannot start over.

“God, you’re such a girl…” He groans and kisses her on the cheek before going into the bathroom to shower. 

While Harry showered, Y/N’s mind was racing. She’d known Harry long enough to know that there was more going on than just being nervous about the performance, but she wasn’t going to push him. She would just do everything she could to support and comfort him.

After his shower, Harry stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe just as Y/N’s hair and makeup was being finished. She stood from her chair, thanked her glam team and stepped up to Harry. 

“We should just go like this, it would cause quite a stir.” She joked as they stood face to face in their matching bathrobes. 

He smiles softly, still feeling the nerves flow through him. 

“Hey, you’ve got this… we’ve got this.” She assures him. “Even if we don’t win, the album was amazing. We made something beautiful. If the academy sees that, great. If not, whatever, we don’t need them anyway.”

Harry smiles and pulls her into a hug. “Yeah, I know, I know. No matter what, I am so proud of what we did. It’s better than I even imagined it would be, and I owe all of that to you.”

She giggles as she pulls out of the hug. “I didn’t do anything. I just pushed buttons and bossed you around.” 

Harry laughs loudly. “Two things you’re good at. Being bossy and pushing my buttons.” She gasps in mock outrage and slaps his chest playfully. “Seriously though, you brought my vision to life, and you did all the behind the scenes work to make sure it was the best album possible. You’re the biggest reason we’re here tonight.” 

Y/N smiles shyly and blushes. “Oh come on…”

Harry smirks mischievously, he always found it hilarious when he’d make her blush. He decided to double down. “Well, whatever the outcome, at least I’ll have the cutest date in the room.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“God, you’re the worst.” She chuckles as her blush deepens. “I have to go put my dress on. You changing?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I’ll do that now. Meet you back here in ten?”

“It’s a complicated dress, might need fifteen…”

“God,” he groans playfully. “Such a diva!”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at him and turns to go into her room to get dressed. 

Twenty minutes later, Harry is pacing around in his suit, it’s a simple black suit with a gold silk shirt, unbuttoned enough to display the sparrows on his chest, and the butterfly across his abdomen. He steps up to her door and knocks gently as a reminder that they need to get going. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” She calls through the door. 

A few moments later, she emerges in a long gown, made of the same golden silk as Harry’s shirt. Harry’s eyes go wide when he sees her. She looks stunning, the gown hugs her curves in all the right places, and compliments her skin tone perfectly. 

Harry’s silence makes Y/N feel a little self conscious. She rarely dresses up, and when she does, she doesn’t usually pick things that put her body on display like this.

“Is it… do I look okay?” She asks tentatively. 

“It’s stunning, Y/N.” Harry looks at her in awe. “You look so incredibly beautiful, like an angel…”

“Alright Har, come on…” she says bashfully as she drops her gaze. 

“No, seriously. You clean up nice.” He chuckles, punching her on the arm playfully. 

“Yeah, well you don’t look so bad yourself.” She looks him over, a small smirk appearing on her face. “Is this why you wanted me to work with your team to pick my outfit? So we would be matching?” 

Harry chuckles and shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe…”

“You’re such a little pain in the ass.” She chuckles. 

“Whatever, it was worth it.” He says, grabbing her wrist and positioning them in front of the full length mirror. “We look damn good” 

“That we do.” She replies with a smile. She notices his expression grow more serious and furrows her brow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just… fifteen years…” He says wistfully. “We’ve had a hell of a run, you and I.”

“Well it’s not over yet!”

“No, I know. Will you just shut up and let me have a moment?” He says as he nudges her. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I can’t really express how much it means to be standing here with you right now. No matter what happens tonight, we’ve definitely already won.” 

“Yeah, we have.” She sighs, wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling him into a side hug. “Now cut it out with all this mushy stuff, my makeup took way too long for me to start crying right now.” 

Harry laughs and pulls her into a tight hug. “Alright, alright, we’ll save the mushy crying for later.” He gives her one last squeeze before pulling out of the embrace. “Ready to go?”

She nods and he leads her out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. As it makes its descent to the lobby, Y/N gets uncharacteristically quiet. 

“You good?” Harry asks softly. “You seem quiet.”

She looks up at him, almost as if the sound of his voice broke her out of a trance. “Hmm? Yeah, sorry. I think the gravity of everything is finally hitting me. Like, it was all conceptual before, just words. But it’s real, we’re on our way to the Grammy awards… we’re nominated.”

Harry takes her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know. But you can’t worry about it, no more stressing out, okay? Tonight is our night, we just need to go out there and enjoy it.” 

“Can I say one more mushy thing before we stop trying to make each other cry?” 

Harry chuckles and nods, looking forward to hearing what Y/N has to say.

“I… when I decided I wanted to be a producer, my big thing was that I always told people I wanted to win Grammy awards. And I know we shouldn’t be defined by awards, but in an industry like this, you have to have some way to quantify or legitimize what you do to people who aren’t a part of it, and that was my way of doing it. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and this is the first time I’ve been nominated. I can’t tell you how glad I am that my first nomination is with you. It means the world to me that I can have this moment, share this milestone with my best friend. So thank you for letting me be a part of this album. You have no idea what it means to me.”

Harry is taken aback by Y/N’s words. While they were close, and shared everything, she would rarely be so open and vulnerable with her words. No matter what happened at the award show, that moment, right there in the elevator, would be the highlight of his night. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close, burying his face in her neck. 

“You have no idea what this means to me.” He mumbles against her neck. 

“Okay, so no nerves then?” She asks, pulling out of his embrace. “Whatever happens tonight, we will always have this moment together, and that’s what matters.” 

“Agreed.” Harry says, holding his hand out to shake hers. She giggles at the gesture and shakes his hand firmly. 

After a short ride in the limo, Harry slips out of the car and extends his hand, helping Y/N out. They walk through security and up to the start of the red carpet. Harry turns to face Y/N, and she adjusts his jacket, making sure he looks picture perfect. 

“Okay, go out there and smile big. I’ll see you on the other side.” She says like a proud mom, sending her son off to picture day. 

“How’s my hair?” He asks cheekily. 

She giggles and runs her hand through his hair. “Perfect.” 

He winks and gives her a sly smirk before stepping out onto the carpet and posing for the cameras. 

Y/N watches him take a few pictures, and once he moves on to the second pose position on the carpet, she turns to walk behind the step and repeat. Her arm is quickly grabbed by one of the producers. “You’re up.” He tells her.

“Oh no no no, I’m not walking the carpet.” Y/N insists. 

“Are you nominated?” She nods, a slight panic on her expression. Y/N was a behind the scenes person, she didn’t step in front of the camera. “Then you walk the carpet.” He nudges her forward, and she finds herself standing on the first mark, posing awkwardly for the camera. 

A few steps away, Harry’s gaze is traveling from camera to camera, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Y/N posing, he also sees the panic on her face. He quickly backtracks, coming up beside her and placing his hand on the small of her back. 

“You okay?” He whispers softly. 

“I didn’t know they were going to make me do the carpet…” She whispers nervously. 

Harry keeps his hand on the small of her back, his fingers moving along the skin gently to soothe her. “I know, I know. But you’ve got this, I’m right here with you, we’re going to do this together, this is our night.”

She nods, feeling more comfortable with Harry by her side. The two pose together as they move down the carpet. Harry was completely in tune with Y/N’s emotions, and any time he’d feel her start to stiffen up or get nervous, he would whisper a joke or silly comment in her ear to loosen her up. 

The photographers went crazy observing the chemistry between the two of them. Harry was aware what would be printed about them, and the status of their relationship, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him in that moment was that nothing ruined this night for Y/N. 

[xi-xi-chen]

do you think you would ever eventually draw a grown up version of jinx, lux and isha? seeing all the headcanons about them made me start thinking about how lightcannon would handle isha through her teenage/young adult years,,,,, like half of it comes from my desire of wanting to see lightcannon's dynamic as they become a bit more mature and their trauma/hurt is less raw? (if that makes sense? like being able to see them as adults who have grown to be a bit more grounded and secure 🥹) and also wanting to see what isha would look/act like as she grows up bc ... she was robbed of that in canon 🥲🥲🥲

btw i don't mean this as a request or me pressuring u to draw them !! i just wanted to yap about them bc im in my lightcannon + isha sappy feels 🫠

(sidenote: do we have a name for the lightcannon + isha found family relationship?? they literally mean everything to me ☹️💕)

Aw, no problem, I've been wanting to get around to this anyway. I went back and did a rough character study and tried to keep as much of the same features in. However, I tried not to worry too much since this is essentially a transformation from child to semi-adult.

The inspo mostly came from my own hairstyle, I've got curls similar to Isha's at the top, but it strengthens at the ends and back. So with enough length, I sometimes put tiny braids in, so that's where this particular design comes from, of course, with some help of reference from chosen Pinterest images, too. I also wanted to leave Isha's imitation, I think she'd still want to copy Jinx's hairstyles once in a while and implement the same cuts on a smaller scale.

As far as maturity goes, I think they'd communicate pretty efficiently, but of course, to a degree for some needed independence once in a while and all that jazz. However, I imagine they'd also be a tightly knit together family, close enough that they'd want to always carry something around that reminds them of the other. I think for Isha, that's in the form of images and colors, so hair dye and accessories.

I see Jinx growing out her hair eventually, like a wolf cut style, because even I miss my long ass hair from way back when, but Iove the tapers, so a shaved side of the head would follow along. Lux would probably get the cut just shy of the chin and finally use hair dye for the first time. But I can't decide if she'd go as far as to get an undercut as well. I think Jinx would want some kind of trinket for them, so she'd probably go onto wearing piercings, and they'd follow the idea. So, yeah, just little things that represent one another.

These are just a very few rough drafts, I really wanted to draw them, so I'm glad you've shared your thoughts with me, it helped me push through to get something up and running.

(I don't know any new names

for the lightcannon+Isha 😔)