#and I spent Monday catching up on sleep

[l3irdl3rain]

I feel like bug went from larva to cat overnight

YES!!!! I left Thursday morning and didn’t see her again until Tuesday night and I was like “wtf. How did she get so much bigger!?”

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter two ♡

Summary: You see Joel for the first time after the night of his birthday, and things couldn't be more different from how you thought they were. Word count: 6.8k A/N: Thank you so much for all your beautiful comments!!! I'm so glad you liked the first chapter. I honestly can't wait to keep discovering the path of this story together with you <3 thank you thank you thank youuu. FIRST CHAPTER: ♡ here ♡

Saturday. You woke up with an ache stretching through your chest, as if all the warmth you’d fallen asleep in had cooled to an empty space beside you. Joel was gone. The clock flashed 9:00 a.m., and you imagined him awake hours earlier, deciding he needed to leave. You wondered what might’ve filled his head as he slipped out—regret, embarrassment, maybe something close to the uncomfortable doubt now tightening in your stomach.

It was painful, how your mind filled in the blanks: if he’d stayed, if he’d wrapped his arms around you before you woke up, maybe it would mean something. Some quiet acknowledgment of what had happened, that you were now something different, and that it could be okay. But he’d left, and his absence felt like an answer. His own kind of message. You didn’t know exactly how to feel, only that your heart was broken, frayed by thoughts that raced faster than you could catch.

After lying there, staring blankly at the wall for what might’ve been hours, you managed to sit up, body aching and sore from each place his hands had traveled. You stepped into the shower, closing your eyes as the hot water hit your shoulders, the places where his fingertips had traced your skin. You felt sadder than you wanted to admit as the water washed away his touch, erased his kisses—but somehow, you also needed this; needed to cleanse away the confusion he’d left behind. The way your heart twisted told you everything: that after years of loving him quietly, of wondering if you were foolish for feeling this way, you’d finally seen it in his eyes. It was undeniable, the way he looked at you. Dark, intent, and carrying something that had always been just out of reach. But there was something else there, something heavy that you still didn’t understand, as if he were as conflicted as you.

For the rest of the day, you collapsed onto the couch, letting the TV drone on without paying attention to any of it. You didn’t see Joel or Sarah, didn’t even think about glancing out the window, afraid he might be there.

*

Sunday. You woke up early and walked the neighborhood, hoping you wouldn’t cross paths with him. You had no idea what to say, and you weren’t ready to hear anything he might want to say to you. Joel wasn’t sentimental, and you knew this situation would be far from easy for him, as well. When you returned, you rounded the block and entered through the back door to avoid even the sight of his house. You spent the rest of the day tearing through closets, dusting shelves, filling bags with clothes and objects to donate. Anything to keep busy, to drown out the echo of his absence. When you reached the hall, you noticed a picture hanging askew—a memory of your best friend pushing you playfully against the wall. You straightened it, feeling the weight of that simpler time.

*

Monday. Work, mercifully, absorbed you the whole morning. Manuscripts stacked on your desk piled up, five drafts to review before the week’s end. At lunch, you let yourself get caught up in the interns’ gossip, grateful for the distraction of someone else’s drama: an assistant had apparently thrown a scene in the kitchen. For those few minutes, you were somewhere else entirely.

When you got home, exhaustion caught up to you in a wave, and you napped for hours, hoping to sleep off the ache. You buried yourself in work for the rest of the evening until finally crawling into bed. Even though the hours of sleep should’ve soothed you, the headache stayed, an insistent reminder that you couldn’t keep avoiding the thoughts that waited just beneath the surface.

*

Tuesday. Work was just a blur of the usual. A steady hum, a low buzz of screens and staplers and muffled voices. Then your boss leaned out of her office door, gave you a quick look, and said you could take off two hours early if you wanted. No explanation. You gave her a polite nod of thanks and were out of there before she could change her mind.

When you got home, you stood in the shower for an eternity, letting the water pour over you, but your mind kept circling back to Joel. The ache of it pressed on you, and you felt almost embarrassed by how deeply it stung. Why did it always come back to this?

Out of the shower, you wrapped your hair in a towel, looked up at your own face in the mirror. The eyes staring back seemed hollow, that same expression you’d worn on Saturday—worn thin and tired, as if all the energy you’d stored up was suddenly gone.

You knew you had to do something. Sitting around was unbearable. A surge of restlessness spurred you forward. You changed into workout clothes, slid your headphones on, set a playlist going. The music buzzed in your ears as you left, footsteps echoing on the stairs, mind already reaching for the rush that would come when you pushed yourself hard, sprinting until everything in you felt like liquid fire.

You’d barely opened the front door when you stopped short. Sarah was there, one hand raised to knock, her backpack slung over her shoulder, her hair falling in loose, carefree waves. She looked up, surprised, but her face split into a grin, and at the sight of her, something warm unfurled in your chest.

“Can I stay for a while? Dad’s working late again,” she said, and you felt the familiar twinge at the mention of him— Dad.

“Of course.” You stepped back, pulling the door open wide, stretching your arms out for a hug, which she slipped into immediately, her hands resting lightly on your back.

“Were you going somewhere?” she asked, tossing her backpack to the floor and heading straight for the couch. She plopped down, her hair bouncing as she did, and looked at you with that expectant smile, as if she’d just brought a bit of sunlight into the room with her.

“Just a run.” You wave it off, but there’s something in your voice—she tilts her head, gives you a curious look. “I was bored, that’s all,” you add, softer.

"Ah,” Sarah murmured, letting the sound stretch and float between you. "It’s a nice day, a perfect day for a run.”

“It is," you agreed, the words soft, casual, "but it’s even nicer now that you’re here.” You couldn’t help smiling as you lowered yourself onto the couch beside her, picking up the remote and flipping on the TV. You laughed under your breath when My Best Friend’s Wedding appeared on the screen, as if fate itself were nudging you, teasing you with its sense of irony.

Sarah didn’t miss a beat, slipping her arms around your waist and nestling her head against your right arm, curling into you in the way she always did. The warmth of her comfort settled over you.

“What happened between you and Dad?” Her voice was quiet, the kind of softness that demands honesty. You looked down, meeting her open gaze, and your heart clenched—how could you explain something you hadn’t yet pieced together yourself?

“Nothing,” you murmured, trying to keep your tone light. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged but kept her head resting on you, her voice low, musing. “I don’t know… I haven’t seen you since his birthday.” She toyed with the hem of her sleeve, eyes downcast, like she was searching her memory. “And last night, when we ordered pizza, I told him I wanted to see you. He said no, that you were probably tired, but I told him you always come, even when you’re tired.” She glanced up at you, lips curling with a faint, sad smile. “Then he just told me to drop it, and I could tell he was in one of his moods. You know him.”

Each word pierced you, gentle pinpricks you could feel sinking in. Joel was shutting you out too, it seemed, yet you were beginning to accept that as inevitable.

“I really was tired,” you lied, hating the sound of it even as it left your lips. “Yesterday was long. You know how much I read every day?” She nodded, that same wide-eyed curiosity looking up at you. “Well, yesterday was one of those days I could hardly see straight. When I got home, all I wanted to do was sleep.”

“Oh, right,” she replied, and you felt her cheeks lift against your arm, her smile warm and trusting. “Well, I was just gonna ask you to help with my homework. Have you ever read Poe?”

A chuckle escaped, breaking the tension. “Yes, I’ve read Poe.”

She pulled back a little, her eyes gleaming. “Are you tired now?”

“No.” You shifted up straighter, meeting her gaze with a small nod. “Come on, let’s get comfortable at the table.”

Soon, you were placing a steaming cup of cocoa and a plate of cookies in front of her, the familiar ritual setting in, grounding you both. You sat beside her, ready to dive into the morbid worlds of *The Black Cat* and *The Tell-Tale Heart,* classic Poe to whet a young mind. She didn’t need your help—you knew that. Sarah was bright, quick; it was more the routine of sitting together in the kitchen, tracing the dark, winding paths of literature, that you both cherished. Sometimes she’d even ask for math help, which was the last thing you were qualified for. Literary theory? Of course; Atiyah's geometry? Forget it. 

At seven, the kitchen was dim, the soft click of the clock marking the evening. There was still no sign of Joel. You watched from the living room window, your breath creating small fogged circles on the cold glass. Sarah had drifted to sleep, limbs splayed out on the couch, her bare feet poking over the edge. After homework, she’d switched to a documentary about whales and somewhere along the way, gentle little snores had taken over. You, meanwhile, were skimming through an article on your phone about a woman from Nigeria with the world’s largest wig, lost in a rabbit hole of Guinness World Records—another one of your distractions to keep from thinking about the ache lodged firmly where thoughts of Joel tended to linger.

Then, you heard it: the low rumble of Joel’s truck. You didn’t need to see him to know. You could recognize it anywhere, the steady approach, the engine growling over the pavement. For a moment, you stayed frozen, staring blankly at the phone in your hands, the words blurring together. You were just waiting—knowing that any moment, he’d come knocking at your door. Because that’s exactly what he would do.

Joel would enter his house with that familiar, end-of-the-day exhaustion weighing down his steps. His shoulders would drop, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Sarah!” he would call out, but the house would echo back only silence. A quiet that felt too deep, too empty. He’d stand in the middle of the hallway, pausing, absorbing the emptiness for a beat, then walk to her room and crack open the door just enough to check her bed. The unmade sheets and abandoned books would confirm what he already suspected: she was at your place, just as she always was when he was running late.

With a soft sigh, he would turn and head downstairs, the familiar creaks of the house echoing around him. And as he moves toward your door, he’d feel the tension in his back, muscles tight and weary from the day. He’d roll his head in a way that sent a dull ring through his neck, feeling the tendons pull, listening to the slight pop of his vertebrae—an old habit that usually helped him settle. But tonight, it did little to ease the tension running through him. Then, as he gets closer, he- 

Knock, knock—two sharp sounds that broke through the quiet of the evening. You looked up from your phone, startled from your reverie, the light of the screen dimming in your periphery. Sarah was curled up beside you, blissfully unaware, her breathing steady and peaceful.

“Sarah,” you whispered, reaching out gently, fingers brushing her shoulder. You called her name softly a couple of times, but she merely rolled over, a sleepy mumble escaping her lips—a mix of protest and the remnants of dreams still clinging to her.

Knock, knock. Again, insistent, echoing through the room.

This time, you stood up, feeling an unsteady flutter in your stomach as you made your way to the door. You inhaled sharply, letting a sigh escape, your body tensing involuntarily with each step. There it was again—that heaviness, low and unsettling, growing with every inch you closed toward him.

As your hand wrapped around the cool metal of the doorknob, you found yourself hesitating, fingers pressed into it but unmoving, as if the door itself had grown an invisible weight.

Be. Fucking. Strong. You took a slow breath, steadied your grip, a final reminder for yourself. Maybe, just maybe, Joel was feeling the same tightness, the same knot of uncertainty in his chest. You let yourself imagine that possibility, just long enough to give you the courage to turn the knob and let him in.

In one swift, impulsive movement, you flung the door open, and there he was. Joel. Standing there as if time itself had stilled, his gaze locked onto yours. It was the first time you'd seen him since that night. Your heart lurched at the sight of him, the familiar lines of his face, the small furrow between his brows, and maybe—just maybe—a slight tremor at one eyebrow as if he was bracing himself, too.

“Sarah’s here,” you said, quickly, your voice sharper than you’d intended, as though saying it fast enough might keep him from asking first. 

“I assumed so,” he replied, glancing briefly into your house, his tone measured, careful. “Is she asleep?”

You nodded, stepping back just enough to signal he could come in. He hesitated for a beat, then crossed the threshold. As he passed, his arm brushed yours, a fleeting contact that sent a surge through you—a reminder of all the words you hadn’t said, couldn’t say. It made your heart race, each beat loud in your ears as he moved further into the room.

You watched him approach Sarah, his frame bending down as he placed a hand on her shoulder, voice a low murmur. “Sarah, baby, let’s go home,” he whispered, as if his quiet words might coax her awake. But she only turned her shoulder, a soft groan escaping her, and nestled back into sleep. 

He sighed, a sound that spoke of familiarity and resignation. It was a scene he had lived through a hundred times before. Knowing it was useless to waste words trying to wake her, he slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her in one smooth motion. She stirred only slightly as he held her, and you saw the small grimace on his face as he straightened up, her weight adding to his already tired frame. 

You stayed in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed, a faint shield against whatever unspoken things might spill out of him. The sight of him in your space stirred a confusion of emotions—anger, frustration, an ache edged with sadness. Joel had been pulling away, barely looking you in the eye; Joel was acting as if you were strangers or as if nothing had ever happened between you. Joel was a—

“Thanks for watching her,” he said, his voice low as he walked past you, his eyes averted, as though speaking to the floor. He held Sarah protectively, her feet swinging softly past you, careful not to let her brush against you.

Something about his words made your stomach twist. He was speaking to you like you’d done something extraordinary, some rare act of kindness, as if this wasn’t something you did all the time. It was ridiculous. Sarah spent half her days here, half her nights, and he was thanking you now, like you were a kind neighbor who’d offered to babysit for the first time or some shit like that.

You didn’t respond, feeling the words trapped in your throat, unwilling to form. Instead, you walked him to the door, waiting as he stepped over the threshold. Your hand found the doorknob, ready to close it as soon as he left.

But he stopped. He turned back, and for a moment, his eyes met yours with a rare intensity. His expression shifted—there was something else there, something that looked like it was on the verge of spilling over. You waited, holding his gaze, a silent impatience building in you, daring him to say whatever was lodged inside him.

“Good night,” he said at last, flat and simple, letting the words fall like stones between you.

Before he could wait for a response, you slammed the door shut, perhaps with a bit too much force. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care at all. He could stand there in the hallway, speechless, for all you cared. The way he had looked at you, his voice so flat and distant—like you were nothing more than neighbors exchanging small talk—made your chest feel hollow. As if you hadn't spent the last four years glued to each other, inseparable, as if he hadn’t been completely entangled with you, entirely and recently. Joel could go fuck himself.

With your heart still aching, you walked to your bedroom and changed into pajamas, too upset to think about eating. You crawled under the covers, letting the silence settle around you, picking up the remote and flicking through channels until you found a rerun of one of those bizarre home and health shows. On the screen, a woman was recounting a story that seemed almost surreal: she had given birth to a baby alone in her bathroom after a shower, completely unaware she’d been pregnant. No anesthesia, no doctor, just a child falling into her hands, catching her by surprise.

Unbelievable, you thought, entranced, the human body is astounding. 

By the time the second episode started, your mind had drifted away from Joel, and all you could feel was hunger, sharp and insistent. The grumble in your stomach left you with no choice but to get out of bed. You tossed back the sheets and slipped your feet into the pom-pom slippers Joel had given you last Christmas. Fucking Joel, you thought, but they were soft, comfortable, and warm, and they carried you to the kitchen with a small feeling of comfort despite everything.

You made yourself a ham and cheese sandwich, humming a song you’d been listening to earlier that evening, right before Sarah knocked on your door. You poured yourself a glass of water, sat in the gentle glow of the under-cabinet lights, and took a bite. As you ate, your thoughts drifted back to the woman giving birth alone, imagining her shock and fear. If something like that ever happened to you, you thought, you’d probably be completely terrified, unprepared.

Then again, maybe you’d surprise yourself, discovering strength you didn’t know you had.

You shook your head slightly, reassuring yourself that it could never happen. You were meticulous with birth control; it was nearly impossible. After all, it had been a lonely year, with plenty of solitude and very little excitement. Not that you lacked options, but you’d grown comfortable in your independence.

Oh. Joel. You had slept with Joel, hadn’t you? And you hadn’t used a condom, a fact you had almost managed to ignore, until now. The thought gnawed at you.

As you finished your sandwich, you reminded yourself to check that your alarm was set for noon tomorrow—right when you took your birth control every day.

What would it be like, really, to have a baby? You’d never held one close or even spent much time with one, always keeping them at arm’s length, like something fragile you didn’t understand. Growing up an only child, you’d had no younger siblings to fuss over, no little cousins to chase around. None of your friends had children, either—not ones young enough for you to witness the first days, the delicate first few years. Sarah was already eight when you met her, and while you’d watched her grow up since, it wasn’t the same as seeing a baby. A newborn. Someone who came into the world with no words, just endless, vulnerable need.

Knock, knock. The sound jarred you, your heart jumping as you nearly choked on your last bite of sandwich. You looked up, squinting at the clock on the wall. Eleven p.m. 

Who could it be at this hour? His name appeared on your mind.

You reached for a paper napkin and wiped your mouth, slowly pushing back from the kitchen counter, your feet moving reluctantly toward the door. Your pulse quickened with each step, and a voice inside you whispered to run upstairs, to pretend you hadn’t heard. But the lights were on. He’d know you were awake; surely, he would.

Peering through the peephole, you felt that sudden jolt all over again. Joel was there. Standing in the yellowish glow of the hallway lights, looking down at the floor with one hand absently scratching his chin. For a moment, you watched him like that, as if observing from far away, taking in the unguarded heaviness of his expression. It softened something in you, even as your mind told you to hold your ground. 

Finally, you turned the lock and opened the door, just a sliver at first, easing it open slowly until you were half visible. His gaze lifted the moment he saw you, his body straightening, hands falling to his sides. There was something unmistakably nervous in his stance, a sense that he’d already doubted coming here but had decided it was too late to turn back.

He said your name in a whisper, as if startled to see you standing right there in your own doorway, his voice almost swallowed by the silence around you both. Then he took a step forward, his hand lifting slightly as if he’d reach out. 

You stayed frozen in place, your heart loud in your ears.

“Were you in bed?” he asked, almost sheepishly, the corners of his mouth pulling up slightly as if he wasn’t sure he should be there.

“No, I…” You hesitated, glancing briefly over his shoulder like you were expecting someone to jump out and catch you doing something wrong. “I was just eating something.”

Joel nodded, his eyes darting over your shoulder, taking in the familiar space inside your home, then flicking back to you, then to the doorway again. You could tell he wanted to come in, but he looked uncertain, almost nervous.

“Did something happen?” you asked, your voice coming out a little louder than intended.

“No, no,” he replied quickly. “Sarah just… she forgot her backpack, that’s all.” That’s all. The words sounded small.

You nodded, feeling a slight warmth creep into your cheeks, a forced smile stretching across your lips.

“I’ll grab it for you,” you said, hoping you sounded polite and unaffected. You closed the door nearly all the way, leaving only a thin sliver between you and the hallway, and hurried to where Sarah’s backpack and shoes sat beside the couch.

You grabbed her things hastily, inhaling sharply as you bent down, determined to hand them over and end this interaction on a courteous note, the way he’d left things with you earlier that evening.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered as you stood back up, a hand pressed to your chest. He’d somehow slipped inside and was standing right in front of you, eyes steady but unreadable, mouth set in a straight line. “You scared me to death.”

He glanced around your living room, slowly, buying time. He looked back at you, but this time his eyes were softer, a hint of something deeper lingering there.

“Can we talk?” he asked, and your heart leapt, relief breaking through your careful composure. 

You placed Sarah’s things back on the floor, feeling the weight of this moment settle over you, and then sank onto the couch. You didn’t say anything, but you glanced toward the seat beside you, silently inviting him to join you. Joel sat heavily, elbows on his knees, staring down as though the floor itself held the answers to questions he couldn’t voice. His silence felt endless, stretching out between you until you finally broke it.

“What do you want to talk about?” you asked, your voice almost too casual, as if you weren’t bracing yourself for the answer.

What was there even to talk about? The weather?

He exhaled, his voice almost too low to hear.

“About what happened. I… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He straightened his back but still didn’t meet your eyes. 

“Sorry about what?” you asked, your own voice coming out softer than you’d intended, colored by a hurt you couldn’t hide. “For sleeping with me, or for disappearing in the morning?”

The flash of hurt in your tone seemed to hit him hard, his head dropping even lower. He turned toward you, his gaze sweeping across your face, as though trying to memorize the hurt he’d caused.

“Everything,” he said at last, voice thick with regret. “For messing it all up, for not coming to talk to you sooner.” He looked away again, his hand resting on the back of his neck, and his eyes drifting down, unable to hold yours. 

Your body felt tight with nerves, and you nodded, though it was barely a nod at all.

“Why did you leave?” you asked, almost a whisper.

He looked like he was searching for the right words, for something that would undo the damage, something that wouldn’t hurt you more.

“I panicked. I woke up and saw you next to me, and it all rushed back—everything. I couldn’t handle it, and Sarah was going to wake up soon, and I just… I just left.” 

“You could have at least told me,” you murmured, your voice strained. “Do you have any idea how that felt?”

He turned fully to face you, his eyes dark and full of something you loved, but now it looked almost foreign.

“I know. I hate myself for making you feel that way. I can’t forgive myself for that.” He shook his head slowly, as though to emphasize the depth of his regret. “I messed up. I messed everything up.”

“Then be clearer, Joel.” Your voice cracked on his name, and you hated how fragile it sounded. 

He ran a hand over his chin, staring at you with an expression that was unreadable but intense, his fingers pressing into the stubble on his jaw. He exhaled, licking his lips, and it was as if the words were something he’d been rehearsing, something he’d said to himself over and over but couldn’t say until now.

“I lied to you. And then I acted like an asshole when you found out,” he said, the words halting and heavy. “I’m sorry. I felt cornered when you found out about Sienna, and i reacted defensively.” The name slipped out reluctantly, and you felt a sharp pang at the sound of it. “I felt weird, and I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I know this is my fault—all of it is. If I’d just left when you asked me to... God, you asked me so many times. If I had left, none of this would have happened.” He shook his head, almost in disbelief at himself. “But I didn’t. And I ruined it.”

Sienna. The name hung in the air, thickening the silence between you. It sat heavy in your chest, like a stone. You tried to picture her, tried to put a face to the name, but the image wouldn’t come; your mind was racing too fast.

A warmth crept down your spine as Joel’s words landed, heavy, final. You sat with the silence for a moment, like you were stealing a few extra seconds from time to filter through what he’d just said, to let the meaning sift in slowly. He regretted it—this, everything. That was why he’d left in the morning, why he’d ignored you for days, why he couldn’t hold your gaze now. His eyes stayed down, fixed on the floor, while yours were betraying you, welling up without permission.

“You ruined it,” you whispered, echoing his words more to yourself than to him, taking them in and feeling their weight. But Joel must’ve thought you meant it, that you agreed with his confession. He winced slightly, like he’d been stung. “You regret it. Now what?”

He swallowed, his eyes still cast down.

“Now, now I don’t know,” he muttered. It sounded like a confession, like the last thing he wanted to admit. “But we have to fix it somehow.”

Fix it. Joel had always fixed things; it was almost second nature to him. Floors, windows, cabinets, the bench in your backyard that he’d broken one night when he stood on it, laughing, doing something you couldn’t even remember now. Joel fixed anything broken or cracked or worn down, anything that wasn’t how it should be. And now, that’s what he thought you were—something to be mended.

Your throat tightened, and you felt your eyes sting as a tear escaped, soft and warm on your cheek.

“Do you want us to pretend nothing happened?” you asked, your voice low but clear, cutting through the heaviness in the air.

“No,” he said, looking up quickly, like he was startled by the idea. When he saw your face, his brow twitched in concern. “No. But we can work it out; I know we can. We have to.”

You laughed, short and sharp, a hollow sound that escaped before you could think. You shook your head, as the irony hit you—how he thought he could repair something like this, as if he could slot you both back together seamlessly, like nothing was shattered, like no pieces were missing.

“How, Joel?” you asked, your voice tinged with exasperation, though your lips held a half-smile—an odd defense that barely softened the ache. “How am I supposed to act as if this never happened?”

He clasped his hands, his fingers moving restlessly against each other as he took in your words, his face an irritating calm that made you feel exposed, like you were some unpredictable force he needed to steady. When he finally spoke, his voice softened, though there was a tiny thread of frustration just barely visible.

“I’m not asking you to pretend or act, not at all,” he said, and the slight waver in his voice hinted at some urgency he was struggling to mask. “I just… we’re adults, you know? And sometimes things get messy. It doesn’t make it… doesn’t mean it was meant to be. It was just a mistake. That’s not who we are, you and I.”

“A mistake?” you echoed, his words heavy on your tongue, repeating them to see if they would settle into meaning. But they felt as alien as they sounded, and Joel could see it. He shook his head gently, almost admonishing, catching the resistance etched across your face.

“Yes, a mistake,” he replied, almost chiding, and then he sank forward, his head resting in his hands. His eyes closed, and you couldn't tell , but he was replaying some private memory; you didn’t know how often he’d been revisiting it in his mind—how his thoughts had kept catching on the feel of your skin, the taste of you, the soft pull of your fingers in his hair, the unmistakable sense of being surrounded by you: tight, warm, everywhere. Too much. It was a memory he couldn’t shake, and one that, in his mind, he had to. It was a torture that needed to stop.

He drew in a deep breath and looked up. “We can’t go there, not you and me. That’s not us.”

You leaned forward, heart pounding, voice edged with something sharper than before.

“A mistake?” you repeated, but this time louder, any hint of softness dissolving as it turned to raw anger. “What the hell, Joel?”

“That’s exactly what it was,” he started, his voice tentative, as if he were trying to convince you of something you didn’t want to believe. “We were arguing, a little drunk, and in the heat of the moment, things just… got out of hand—”

“Stop it.” Your interruption came out firm, a sharp edge cutting through the air between you. Joel froze, his gaze locking onto yours, as if you had just thrown a switch. “You know perfectly well that’s not what happened. If I remember correctly, we barely finished a bottle of wine, and you need a lot more than that to get drunk, don’t you?”

“I was mad,” he insisted, his voice rising slightly, a mix of defensiveness and frustration swirling in his tone. “I was angry, and you were teasing me with all those—”

“Bullshit.” The word slipped out with a fierceness that surprised even you. You shifted closer, locking your gaze onto his, making it impossible for him to look away. “We both know what happened wasn’t just a result of some drunken argument. You were angry, yes, and so was I, but it was still you and me.”

Joel shook his head slowly, exasperation spilling from him like a tide. He scrubbed his face with both hands, a gesture of weariness that spoke volumes about the struggle playing out in his mind.

“So what do you want me to tell you then?” he blurted, his frustration breaking through the surface, his voice loud enough to echo in your ears. “That I got carried away? That I completely screwed up and regret everything?”

At that, you felt a jolt of emotion surge through you. You sprang up from the couch, taking several steps back as if creating distance could shield you from the reality of what he was saying. You turned away, unable to hide the tears that had begun their silent descent down your cheeks. The worst suspicions you had harbored were confirmed; he was sorry, miserable at the thought of having touched you, and that thought cut deeper than you expected.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, the words sharp and raw as you wiped your face with the sleeve of your pajamas. It was a pitiful gesture, but it felt like the only way to wipe away the emotional mess he had stirred up inside you. “Fuck off and leave me alone.”

“No,” he blurted out, the word escaping him almost like a plea. He sprang from his seat, crossing the space between you in just a few strides, desperation etched into the lines of his face. “Please, sunshine, please, we can fix this. We just need to talk it out and give it a little time—”

“Don’t ever call me that again.” The demand tumbled from your lips, cutting through the air with an urgency that surprised even you. You saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes, how your words landed like stones against his heart. “Don’t ever call me that again, Joel. I don’t want to listen to you. I can’t pretend this has a solution because, honestly, I don’t feel like there is one. You don't realize what's going on, do you? Or you're just too stubborn to do it, as usual, Joel, you're always so fucking stubborn about everything.”

“What do you want me to do?” His voice strained, as if he were grasping at straws, desperate for a lifeline.

“Nothing!” The word burst from you, frustration boiling over until it turned into a sob you wished you could swallow back. The tears threatened to overflow, blurring your vision and your resolve.

“Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it. I—”

“Stop it, Joel.”

He reached out, his hand hovering in the air between you like a promise hanging unfulfilled. But you took a quick step back, your back hitting the wall with a thud that echoed in the silence, an absurd reminder of how trapped you felt in this moment.

What did you want him to do? To turn back time; not to leave your bed, to reciprocate for at least a few minutes more, to pretend it was okay, to lie to you at least. But that wasn't possible, and suddenly, the quiet sturdy house you had lived in all these years, hiding your feelings for your own good, had now collapsed.

Joel stared at you for a few seconds, his silence stretching between you like a taut wire ready to snap. You could see the shift in his expression, the way it softened and crumbled, no longer the confident facade he usually wore. Instead, he looked downcast, a man weighed down by burdens that felt alien to you, yet you could sense the depth of his struggle. Or so you thought.

Then, your name slipped from his lips like a broken prayer, fragile and desperate.

“I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you,” he implored, his voice wavering with an urgency that made your heart twist. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Please listen to me, just for one more moment.”

In that instant, his words pierced through your defenses, sinking deep into your chest and igniting a flicker of hope. For a heartbeat, you were on the verge of rushing to him, promising that everything would be okay, that you could forget the hurt and revert to the easy laughter and shared secrets of before. You could stash away all your feelings, pack them neatly into boxes, and hide them away forever just to keep him close. But reality loomed over you like a storm cloud, and you knew that was no longer an option; everything had irrevocably shifted. You couldn't bear to look at him without feeling the sharp sting of heartbreak.

Swallowing hard, you tasted the salt of your tears, and it burned your throat like an unwelcome reminder of the turmoil within.

“I’m not sure I can be your friend anymore, Joel,” you confessed, your voice shaking with the weight of your admission.

He shook his head, disbelief flashing across his features as a weak smile broke through the hurt. It was as if he couldn’t quite fathom the words that had just escaped you.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” you asserted, each syllable a battle against the rawness in your chest.

“No, you don’t,” he countered, stepping back just inches, his tone laced with incredulity. The mocking sneer that crept onto his face felt more like a mask than a reflection of his true feelings, and yet, the moisture pooling in his eyes betrayed the battle raging within him.

You regarded him in silence, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken words as you watched his smile fade into something that was almost painful. It twisted his features, morphing into a look of discomfort that hung between you like an unsaid apology. He remained still, his gaze locked onto yours, waiting for you to break the tension with a word or a gesture. The sight of him like that burned inside you, igniting a longing to rewind time, to swallow your questions, to let him live his life free from the weight of your curiosity and the tangled feelings that had blossomed between you. But that wasn’t an option; the reality of your situation loomed large and unavoidable. You had to confront the truth: he didn’t feel the same way about you, and for him, sleeping with you felt like a transgression, a sin, a burden he couldn’t carry.

“Joel, please,” you began, your voice cracking under the pressure of your emotions. A tear slipped down your cheek, salty and bitter, tasting of the anguish that your words carried. “I can’t be your friend anymore. I can’t do this. I’m sorry, I really am, but you’re breaking my—” You hesitated, swallowing hard against the swell of grief that threatened to overwhelm you. “I think this is over.”

His eyes darted between yours, searching for the meaning behind your confession, as if trying to decode the gravity of your words. A flicker of something—perhaps understanding or denial—crossed his face before a semblance of a smile returned, albeit a strained one. He nodded gently, his gaze dropping to the floor, avoiding your eyes as if he were trying to hide from the truth that hung in the air between you.

In that moment, an overwhelming impulse surged within you—a fierce desire to bridge the chasm that had opened between you, to run to him, to tangle your fingers in his hair, to pull him close and make everything right again. You wanted to erase the pain, to heal the wounds that you both had inflicted.

But you didn't. You held back in silence waiting for him to move first. And when he looked up and fixed his eyes for the last time on you, you knew you were right: nothing would ever be the same, ever again, for when he turned on his heel and finally left without another word, your whole world fell at your feet.  It was over. 

-

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @cosmic006533-blog @doblasftcisco @maiyart @concrete-jungleeee @playboygirlsnextdoor00 @maryfanson @rosebuds-and-moonlight @the-universe-is-complicated @formulafun @chewie-bars @glizzymcguirex @pedroswife69 @ivoryandflame @dixonswingz @sarahhxx03 @mellymbee @dailyobsession @msmorningstaarr @mystickittytaco @xxreginaxx @marellabyr @spacegirl-3 @alrihhty @heheheilovepedro @svrgs-blog @94namkooksworld @puddles221b

[munsonify]

good morning kiss

pairing. eddie munson x fem!reader

summary. after endless attempts to try and wake you up, eddie’s kisses are finally what make your eyes open up

genre. fluff

warning/s. pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), reference to being “his girl” and a “sleeping beauty”, she/her pronouns, kissing, slight allusions to sex (in past memory)

authors note. i’m so sorry if the pov is weird in this?? i tried writing this differently than i usually write my fics, so i think i might’ve been switching between past and present tense. anyways i hope you guys like this!!

word count. 529

disney princess collection

you look so peaceful. your eyes rest closed, body slumped into eddie’s bed. even in one of his ratty old kiss t-shirts and your cheek pressed against his floppy pillow, you look so beautiful.

it’s late april, sunlight spilling in through the window, catching his dusty blinds to cast shadows against his blankets. only glimpses of you illuminated - your right eyelashes, the bridge of your nose, one corner of your mouth that twitches ever so slightly in your sleep.

as much as eddie loves admiring you (with his distaste for interrupting your peace much stronger), you two had only 30 minutes to get ready for school. with a soft smile, eddie’s hand gently squeezes at your hip, shaking you with care. he knows you never wake from the first few shakes.

two more gentle shakes go by before he starts tracing his fingers beneath your his shirt. eddie’s voice, though a little gravelly, whispers softly into your ear, trying to ease you awake the best he can.

“gotta wake up sweetheart, don’t want you late again this week.”

you had two very logical explanations as to why you were late two times already this week. you spent monday morning preoccupied with the way eddie’s hand felt on your thigh on the drive to school. completely not your fault.

as for your second tardy, tuesday morning, you spent twenty minutes helping eddie replace the flat tire on your car. he insisted that it couldn’t wait, and that you need reliable transportation outside of himself. as if he’d ever say no to giving his girl a ride.

eddie still failed to wake you. your back was turned to him, though he could still see some of your face. the corner of your lip twitches again, but this time it looked somewhat like a smile to him.

with raised eyebrows, eddie pushes his weight up and over top of you to get a better look of your face. his fingers find their way to your tummy now, softly feeling your skin. he desperately wants you to keep resting. everything in him tells him to let you be. eddie, however, knew he’d feel guilty letting you be late again.

“c’mon sweetheart,” he whines softly, watching as your eyelashes flutter ever so slightly. you’re faking being asleep. with a wide grin plastered onto his face, eddie decides to play into it. his fingers begin to dance against the ticklish spots on your skin. still, you force yourself to stay ‘asleep’.

“what’s a guy gotta do to get his sleeping beauty to awaken?” that’s when it dawns on him. a kiss. the hand that was once on your tummy reaches up to your cheeks, smushing them together gently.

only a few seconds later was your cheek greeted with a big, wet kiss. quiet giggles erupt from your chest, slowly twisting in eddie’s arms to face his direction. in between your giggles, you can hear him whisper “she has risen”.

he un-smushes your cheeks for just a second, giggling along with you as you speak quietly. “i think your sleeping beauty needs one last kiss on the lips to seal the deal.”

“anything for my princess.”

———

taglist. @songbirdofthenight

[killiaia]

Jealousy sex.

DREAMCATCHER EDITION.

JIU

Jiu is a ray of sunshine. She's kind to everyone. But what the others don't know is that she's extremely jealous. 

You once confessed to sleeping with Sua before you met Jiu.

And since that day, Jiu has been riding your dick almost every day. 

"Do you like my pussy? It's better than Sua's! Mine's tighter. " 

You say nothing, you're ecstatic with this goddess riding you.

"You're going to cum in my pussy and we'll do it again every day. "

------

SUA

Sua didn't like your dance with the dancer at all. She found it too close, too sexy. So now you're tied to your bed with Sua sitting on your face. 

"Eat my pussy."

You can only lick her delicious pussy. Occasionally Sua jerks you off but quickly cuts off the pleasure. 

"I can't believe we gave you such a dance! "

You can't answer smothered by her pussy.

------

SIYEON

. 

You catch yourself on the shelf behind you as Siyeon engulfs your cock in her throat.

Siyeon didn't like the way Gahyeon looked at you at all, so as soon as she saw you, she grabbed you, pushed you into the closet, pulled off your pants and before you could protest, started sucking you off.

"Siyeon.. Baby.." 

"Fuck my mouth and cum in my mouth. I'll show you who you belong to. "

She doesn't have to tell you twice. 

------

Handong

"I'm not sexy enough for you as it is'"

Truth be told, you don't have the words to describe how gorgeous Handong looks in lingerie against the window.

With her hands against the glass and you taking her from behind, Handong gives the city a magnificent view of her body. 

You've had the misfortune to say that a model is sexy, and that's all Handong needs. No sooner said than done, the Chinese girl went off to buy a lingerie set. 

"You'd better come in my pussy."

------

YOOHYEON

"Really Yoohyeon? Now. " 

"It's all your fault! I saw you looking at her ass!  

You're shaking your head. You're in a supermarket bathroom because according to Yoohyeon you looked at a girl's ass. If it was just an argument, you'd be fine, but it's not. Now Yoohyeon lines up your dick with her asshole.

"We don't even have a lube! " 

"My hole got used to your dick, now fuck my ass and kiss me. "

------

DAMI

. 

Dami's on all fours, your dick in her pussy and her hair in your hands. The rapper spent the week comparing herself to her members. 

She said she wasn't as beautiful as Jiu, didn't have Sua's breasts, Siyeon's lips, Handong's body or Yoohyeon and Gahyeon's ass.

And to tell you the truth, that pissed you off. So tonight, you'd given her the full treatment.

You gave her her first orgasm by eating her pussy.  A second by eating her ass. A third by destroying her asshole and the fourth came when you took her from behind. 

Exhausted, Dami collapses on the bed, your load coming out of her pussy. You grab her head and Dami opens her mouth and you kiss her.

"Don't compare yourself to them anymore. "

Dami can only nod.

------

Gahyun

.

You watch Gahyun bend over the desk, lift her skirt and present you with the anal plug she has in her ass. 

For several weeks now a rivalry has been brewing between her and Yoohyeon over who has the best ass and asshole. 

You split the week in two days. Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays you took care of Yoohyeon's ass, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays you took care of Gahyun's ass, and Sundays you rested. 

But here you are, on a Sunday, taking Gahyun's ass. 

"My ass is the best Daddy. "

[suiana]

nah i've seen enough yan cheater... But what about cheater!reader? With dom!reader will be more interesting.

I SPENT ALL DAY LOOKGIN FR TIS ASK.. 2000 asks yo thats crazy anyway

imagine having a devoted yandere! boyfriend who's like, the absolute best man you'll ever get. i'm talking special meaningful gifts, spontaneous flowers because why tf not, bringing you on dates and all that!!! he's also really sweet and caring, always there for you whenever you need him!!!

your boyfriend is the ideal man basically! and you're... kinda a big asshole ngl.

you flirt with others, act like your boyfriend isn't even there when you see another guy you like, and more importantly, you go out with them!!! wth!!! at least u dont sleep with them... or more like ur bf catches you before you can do anything more than bring other men home.

"sweetheart i- WHAT THE FUCK."

"what? can't you see i'm admiring my boyfriend oiled up?"

"I'M your boyfriend."

your boyfriend throws out the man out of ur shared apartment immediately after. this was the 10th guy this week! what the fuck! it's only monday!!

"babe you got to STOP finding other men. I'M right HERE."

"ok so"

"SO it means you only need ME"

"but i want a harem"

*insert ur bf's screaming*

don't worry!!! ur bf will ALWAYS be there to stop you from making another stupid decision >___< yeah, what do you mean you want another bf so you're looking for one in a dingy alleyway? nuh uh he's bringing you HOME

"baby u gotta delete all ur dating apps, that person wanted to harvest ur ORGANS."

"no he said he wanted to show me a good time :c"

"my love, he told you he was going to EAT you."

"yeah eat me ou-"

"oops! my hand slipped and he's dead now aha!"

yeah ur bf doesn't even know why he puts up with this. maybe it's because he's already invested too much into you. i mean, he did kill some of these guys for you and also threatended+manipulated some people in the name of love. oh! also that one time where he got admitted into the mental ward because he swore he was going to kill himself with how much you take over his life-

anyway!

ur boyfriend really loves you!

"i love you sweetie <3"

"yeah i love u too side hoe #3 (caked up)"

"i'm going to kill everyone else in your life if you keep this shit up."

[mazikeenhyde]

Less than a minute...

(Ive decided to be brave, I always wanted to try my hand at writing fan fiction so here we go! If i got anything wrong, like warnings for example please let me know so i can fix it! )

WARNING – 

A Poly!Judgment-Day fanfiction containing themes and mentions of DEPRESSION, LONLINESS, SOME SMUT, ANGST, SADNESS, ALCOHOL etc 

Overall, I’m just trying to make you all cry… 

READER X JUDGMENT DAY/POLY! – Rhea, Damien, Finn, Dominik x READER- Written in first person with Y/N (Reader Female)  

Italic font – flashback, speech or memories

Less than a minute 

The hotel room was quiet, the cheap TV fixed to the wall showing Monday night Raw on a low volume mixed in with the sounds of footsteps in the corridor, each sound filling the hot humid air. Outside the rain lashed down, heavy rainclouds hung low in the night sky blocking out the starlight, yet the full moon powered through, illuminating the streets, reflecting in the puddles that ran along the gutter line. 

 It was late, most of these anonymous guests rushing around just outside our door would be returning from busy work days to catch up on sleep or be heading out for a fun night on the town.  A blissful life for most, a chance to escape their homes and stay in a bed with room service, maids to clean up after you and a reception for any assistance required! I hated it though; it wasn’t my choice but when you are on the road traveling for what felt like 300 days of the year with your partners there isn’t much of an option. A different country every month, a different state every week, Christ a different town every night. I longed for those one-off days where we were all free to do nothing. Something many people take for granted is the ability to do nothing, and I missed it. 

Life felt far too chaotic, and despite being in a 5-way Polyamory relationship, I’d never felt so alone. I longed to go home, back to our own little house, we had been away for so long now. I could picture it, the front room shelves filled up high with my collection of books. My own little library I had spent a lifetime building now just collecting dust. The cabinets filled with Dominik’s board games that had bought about so many nights of endless laughter and equally some rather extreme arguments over winners, losers, cheaters and a half empty liquor cabinet that had been drained dry after a game of Scrabble. I still laugh now thinking back to when Rhea would demand the Alexa to define a word, we were sure Dominik had made up. Still, you could always rely on Finn to settle the score with a round of tequila shots and an accidental knock of the board. 

“Oh no!” Finn would laugh as he ‘accidently’ kicked the board off and onto the floor. 

“The board fell… guess we will have to play something else aye lass” he stated sarcastically, winking at me as he passed over one of the shot glasses. 

“I wouldn’t say No to a game of Twister” Damien suggested, raising his eyebrows as he took his shot and ran his fingers down my back. I swear that man would give me goosebumps from the top of my head to the center of my core with just a passing look and that fiendish glint in his eye! 

Rhea was quick to move herself over towards us resting her head in my lap, turning her view point to a more favored position. “I’ll second that” she smiled gently kissing the inner of my thigh, my breath was hitched, excited and on edge all at once. 

“Well I’m calling it!  I won..” Dominik stated with a huff as he began to pick the letter tiles up off the floor. Smirking over at him we each adorned a loveable gleam towards the boy. A little brat at the best and worst of times, but we wouldn’t have changed him for the world. 

Moving Rheas head onto Damien’s lap where the two of them began their own little make out session I crawled my way round to Dom, helping collect the remaining tiles off the floor and boxing his board game up. 

Smiling into his eye line I whispered ‘Never change who you are Dom Dom, We will always be here and we will always love you”

“What about when they break us up though?” he asked, I could hear the anxiety in his voice, his eyes. “I have to turn on Rhea and…and..” 

I held him close, his hands holding tightly to my back and I could hear his gentle muffled cries. 

“You’ll never be alone Dom, I love you so much. Even if I’m not always there to hold your hand, ill never be far away” I whispered in his ear. 

“Less than a minuite?” he smiled. 

-----

I couldn’t deny how much love I felt for each of them, work life had been tough for the four of them after the WWE had stated they would be splitting the group up to start a new storyline involving the likes of Liv Morgan, JD & Carlito. It didn’t stop the love we had for each other, but it certainly made traveling together difficult! I often reminded them that unlike myself none of them exactly blended into a crowd. 

Sitting in the middle of this king size bed I pulled my knees up to my chest, I had stolen Damien’s hoodie and a pair of rhea’s gym shorts in the hopes of being comfortable enough to focus while I studied my textbooks, but alas tonight my mind was elsewhere. I had been studying Law for some time, it had always been such a passion of mine and thankfully no matter where we slept I could bring my books and get my head down while my partners entertained the world. It also came in quite handy when certain members of the group had one too many drinks on a night out and needed some help in escaping the police without legal prosecution. Dominik can tell the world he did hard time in jail all he likes, but it was me that got the little brat released early after a dramatic night with Rhea at his parents’ house on thanksgiving. 

The WWE had offered me a position on their legal team once I had passed all my exams, yet that was over a year ago. I had deferred my exam date twice already, I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me but I didn’t feel the love, the passion or the joy I had done surrounding myself in plans for my future dream career, I was starting to worry I had wasted all these years for nothing.

Finn was always the voice of reason; he would often sit and help me revise while Rhea and Dom would shower together after the gym and Damien would take a nap. He was the voice of reason in the group, the glue that held us all together when things got tough. It was Finn that supported us all the most when our relationship went public, none of us had wanted to hide how we felt and the WWE were supportive, but that didn’t stop the online hate. The four of them were use to random strangers throwing insults due to the nature of their job, and thankfully I wasn’t of much interest to the fans. We had done our best to keep me away from the public eye, almost everyone just assumed I was part of the WWE teams supporting the group. There were a few fan speculation pages online who loved to play the guessing game but the majority saw me as nothing, as no one. 

Finn always knew when something was wrong, he hadn’t wanted to leave me this evening but I had persuaded them all to go on the promise when they returned we could order in and cuddle up to watch a new release on tv if we connected Damien’s laptop. 

“Chicken tenders! Ooh and nuggies?” Dom said, looking around the room in minor disbelief as we all looked at him with smiles. “What?” he asked. 

“Really Dom? Chicken tenders, I’d never have guessed that bro. There’s me thinking you’d want Sushi!” Damien stated sarcastically with a smirk as he zipped up his duffel bag. 

“Ew, raw fish? Bleugh! That’s gross!” Dom was genuinely disgusted at the idea. 

“Hey! Don’t knock Sushi you little squinnie! Just because the rest of us have some foodie culture, your mother should have had you expand your pallet better!” I replied as I walked over and flicked Dom on the head. He was quick to wrestle me up and onto his shoulder, spinning me round onto the bed where he climbed on to pin me down. 

“Uh Excuse me! I think you’ll find…Mami! has expanded my pallet just fine hermosa!” He stated, daring his lips closer to mine. 

“Oh I bet..” I whispered to him closing the gap between us, our lips aching to touch. “Your pallet has had its fair share of tasting sessions aye Dom Dom” 

Before he could respond Damien wrapped his arms around Dominik’s waste pulling him off me and planting him back down to earth, ruffling his hair upon release. 

“Alright you two, break it off!” Damien patted Dom on the chest as he tossed over his rucksack from the chair. I bought my chest up leaning back on my hands winking at Dom as he scowled at me with a mix of frustration and cheek. 

Rhea walked out from the bathroom with Finn following in tow, slapping Dom on the ass and wrapping her arm around his neck. 

“Behave yourself Dom Dom” Rhea said before looking over at me on the bed, “You too Bunny, Brats be warned there will always be consequences.” She laughed and pulled Dom towards the hotel door blowing me a kiss as the two of them headed out to work. Damien followed suit leaning down on the bed to kiss my forehead. 

“Te amo, Hermosa” he held the back of my neck touching foreheads before following Rhea and Dom. 

“Ill catch up with you three downstairs” Finn said and Damien gave him a thumbs up as he headed out the hotel room door and closed it behind them. 

Finn took a seat next to me on the bed as I sat up properly and moved to the edge, adorning one of those fake convincing smiles that had worked so many times before. 

“A night of studying then? We won’t be back too late I promise, you can pick the film tonight. I dread another of Rheas slasher films aye. We will be up all night watching the door” Finn said with a gentle nudge to my shoulder. I just nodded, unsure of how to respond. It was strange, I could hide myself in the love and laughter I felt for them all, the never ending flirting and sexual frustration that would build when we were in a room. But a reminder of the real world, of the real life we were living was enough to shatter my dreams back to reality. Every day was blending into one, the repetitive endeavors were tearing my soul apart. Tears began to fill the corners of my eyes as I was quick to stand and rub them away taking a sharp breath. I knew inside I was breaking, I was like a ticking time bomb and I needed to protect them all. Finn leapt up to his feet spin me around and face him.

“Y/N, listen to me lass, you know we all love you. No matter what, no matter how hard it all gets, whether you sit the exams and pass or fail.” Finn held his hands to my face cupping my cheeks. 

Finn had suspected something was wrong for a while, he and Rhea had sat down with me before to talk. They knew about my past, the scars I had whilst silver and faded now were a window into a past life I had battled for so long to break free from, always terrified it would find me again. I was like a rabbit in headlights when it all got to much, I would freeze in fear of my mind running away with my sanity. Hence the nickname Bunny. 

“I don’t know what is wrong with me..” My voice was fragile, broken. 

Finn held me in a close hug, his warm embrace relighting the fire inside my chest, a willing to keep going forward. The serenity was quickly broken by a car horn beeping outside followed by a text alert on Finns phone. 

BRAT NO.2  -

“Oi! Save some of her for the rest of us Finn >_< get your ass down here! We’re gonna be late!”  

Finn shook his head, “That boy tests my patience to its limit at the best of times, ive a good mind to put him over my knee’ 

I laughed wiping my eyes with my sleeves “Only if you let me watch” 

He smiled and held me close, “I can stay, if that’s what you need?” 

I shook my head and released him from the hug, “No. its okay, you go kick ass! I’m gonna jump in the shower and try to get in a quick nap before I crack on with those books, can’t defer the exam forever!” 

“We will be back before you know it” Finn said softly 

“Less than a minute?” I half smiled

“Less than a minute” He returned the all too familiar phrase. Finn kissed my forehead before getting his bag of the chair and reaching into his pocket to get his phone that had started to ring. He answered the call whilst slumping his bag over his shoulder and nodding his head goodbye to me before heading out the door. 

“Dominik, I am telling you now! I swear to god if you don’t…” Finns voice faded out as he continued down the hotel hallway, the door closing behind him. 

Taking a deep breath I shook off the heavy emotional cloak weighing me down and headed for the shower. 

4 HOURS LATER   - 

Looking around the rather large hotel room we had booked for the night I came to wonder; anyone would have thought we would have been used to this horrendous decor by now. No matter where we stayed every room felt much the same, whether it was the dismal wall art, low pressure shower heads or dull painted walls that felt like they were closing in. Though I knew the others were not fazed by it, they very rarely spent a lot of time in these rooms, aside from catching up on missed sleep or dancing the devils tango with any sparing energy the four of them would be in the gym or at the WWE training centers for live shows or TV. 

Sitting here I couldn’t steady my mind, I felt lost, lonely, empty even. It wasn’t their fault, they showered me in affection, I could want for nothing but more time with them. Yet it wasn’t that either, no amount of time in the arms of Rhea could fix the damage, she was the only woman I could love with the entirety of my heart, but as incredible as she was, even Rhea Bloody Ripley couldn’t fight off the demons inside me. 

The deeper I looked the more the world felt wrong. It all felt alien, uneasy, I wondered if it was just me, was I the problem? I checked the time, just after 10pm, they would be back soon enough, why did that bring about such panic, an anxiety drowning my heart, my breathe hitched and I felt it. You just know don’t you, it could have been years, weeks, days, hours or minutes that you had been fighting the voices in your head, the devil on your shoulder, but I was so lost in it all I just wanted to be alone. 

Slipping  off the bed I pulled on my socks and trainers and headed for the door. Pausing in the doorway I felt my heart sink a little, maybe this was it, maybe I wasn’t what I had promised I would be. 

A single tear fell down my cheek as I closed the hotel room door behind me, leaving my phone and keys on the nightstand. I needed to break free, only time would tell how long for, but I needed to feel. I needed to escape the War inside my head and the only way I knew how to do that, was to run. 

1 HOUR LATER   - 

Rhea and Dom walked through the carpark with his arm wrapped around her waist as they headed towards the rental car. It had been a hard night for them and all they wanted was to climb into bed with their girl and sleep. Damien followed just behind the both of them carrying the groups bags. Finn bringing up the rear of the group was locked into his phone, his face filled with concern for their girl who hadn’t responded to a single text all evening. They had received a message from the WWE management team that they could leave early to limit fan interaction ahead of SummerSlam. 

Climbing into the rental car Dom, Rhea and Damien waited for Finn. 

“Maybe she fell asleep studying?” Dom asked as Finn sat in the back passenger seat. 

Rhea had her phone up to her ear listening to a never ending ringing on the other end, Voicemail again. “Bunny? please call me back.” She ended the call and looked up to Damien in the drives seat. 

“Priest, Floor it!” 

--------

Reaching the hotel all four of them raced from the car inside, adrenaline fed through them as they reached the hotel room. 

Hands shaking Rhea swiped the card multiple times before holding it still long enough to enter. The realization. The Silence. It was deafening.

Damien rushed in to check the bathroom as Finn scrambled around the room with Dom, looking for something, for someone they knew wasn’t there. Rhea stood frozen in the doorway, in silence, her eyes locked in. 

“Rhea?” Dom hastily rushed over, hand on her shoulder as he turned to her eye line. There it was, on the bedside table. 

Finn edged his way over to the bedside as Damien came back into the room. Hands shaking nervously Finn reached down and picked up Y/N phone and hotel keycard. 

They all shared a look between each other, a look of fear and confusion. What were they meant to do now? Where did Y/N go? 

“I shouldn’t of left her…” Finn held the phone tightly pacing the same two steps over. “I could see it, I saw it, I shouldn’t of left her…” Finn repeated again. 

“Finn?” Dom hesitantly questioned his actions. 

Rheas demeanor quickly turned and she slammed her hand against the doorframe and rushed out followed by Finn and Damien desperate to find their girl. 

“Dom stay here! In case she comes back!” Damien yelled, he paused in the hall before rushing back to the room and holding Dominick’s face in his hands. “We will find her, I promise, we will all be back before you know it” Damien kissed his forehead before turning and running back out the door. 

Dom was frozen on the spot, he couldn’t move, he looked around the room at abandoned study books, half unpacked suitcases and clothing discarded on the floor. He felt smaller than ever before, his heartbeat felt cold, his chest filled with butterflies and his hands cold to touch. 

Walking over to the window that stood from floor to ceiling he held his hand to his chest tearing up at the rain lashing down outside . “Less than a minute?” 

[greynatomy]

same name

alessia russo x reader

based on this request.

———

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon. You were standing on the grass field, watching all your children play a bit of football.

You teach the fourth years. Every Friday, you like to give your students to do what they want to do, and most of the time, they choose to play football.

“Miss! Miss!” You turn to your right to see one of the girls in your class running towards you.

“Hey, Ellie. D’you need something?”

“My mum bought me a Lioness jersey and I’ve just noticed it’s got your name on it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, do you play for the Lionesses?”

The question made you laugh, but covered it up with a cough, not wanting to embarrass your student.

“No, I don’t Ellie. That’s Alessia Russo’s jersey. Do you know who that is?”

Henry, another one of your students, heard you as he was running past, quickly changing directions towards you.

“I know! I know!” This caught the attention of the rest of your class, everyone now formed a group around you. “My mum loves to watch football and told me she’s her favorite!”

“That’s amazing, Henry. Who here knows who the Lionesses are?” Most of the class raised their hands. “Wow, a lot more than I thought.”

“The girls are more interesting to watch than the boys.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, my dad said it’s because there’s less flopping, whatever that means.” A bit shrugs his shoulders, making you giggle.

Before you could say another word, the bell had rung.

“School’s over. Grab your bags, it’s time to head home.”

“Have a great weekend Miss.”

“You as well.”

Walking through the front door of your house, you were met with silence. It wasn’t a surprise as you didn’t see the white Mercedes in your driveway.

You decided to get started on dinner, so you’ve got dressed into something comfy and made your way to the kitchen. As you’ve placed the food in the oven to cook, you heard the front door open.

“Honey? I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!” You called out, washing the dishes.

Footsteps got louder as they walked closer, arms wrapping themselves around your waist, a head tucking themselves in the crook of your neck.

“Hi, Amore.”

“Hi, Lessi baby. How was training?”

“Same as always. How was your day?”

“Watched the kids play football, like every Friday.”

Alessia almost sounded like she was purring, trying to somehow find a way to be closer to you than she already is.

“That reminds me. One of my students brought you up, how her mum bought her your Lioness jersey then asking if I was a footballer cause we’ve got the same name.”

“That’s hilarious, really.”

“Then everyone gathered ‘round and we spent a few minutes just before the bell just talking about the team. Almost all of them are big fans of you lot.”

“You never told them who you were married to?” Alessia asks, not put off by you not telling her students, just curious.

“I just wanted to get situated with them for a bit. It’s only the second month of me being there. But if they ask, I won’t deny it.”

“Mmm. Okay. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

On Monday, Alessia arrived at the Emirates training grounds for another day of training. She greeted everyone she saw walking by, sleep still present on her face.

“Morning, Lessi. How was the weekend with the missus?” The morning was no longer peaceful. Katie’s loud voice cutting through the silence.

“Very relaxing. How was yours?”

“Very energetic.” She stated, wiggling her eyes brows suggestively.

“Stop that.” Caitlin slaps the back of her girlfriend’s head.

After training, the gunners crowd around each other, calming themselves down.

“Uh, could I ask you guys for a favor?” Alesia speaks up after catching her breath, pointing her attention to her Lioness teammates.

“What’s up?”

“Well, Y/NN’s class are really big Lioness fans and I was wondering if Leah, Lotte, Beth, you’d want to join me in surprising my wife’s class on Friday?”

“Oh, we’d love to!”

Friday comes around quickly. You were leading your class out to the field, bag of footballs over your shoulder. Getting closer, you see four figures standing on the field.

“Miss! It’s the England captain!”

Leah Williamson is indeed standing in front of you, as well as Lotte, Beth, and Alessia.

“What are you guys doing here?” You ask, giving them all a hug, Alessia’s lasting longer than the rest.

“Thought we’d surprise the kids. Play some football.”

“Hey! You’re the one with the same name as Miss.” Ellie points a finger at Alessia.

Alessia crouches down to her height, the other kids getting closer.

“She actually stole my name.” All your students gasped.

“What? No, I didn’t. She’s lying to you all. I got her permission.” You send your wife a look that she knows means ‘stop or you’ll sleep in the couch’ making her lift her arms in surrender.

“Lying is bad. Shame on you.” Alessia now has a look of embarrassment on her face, getting told off by a child.

“My mum has a crush on you.” The statement was directed at Leah. “I don’t know what that means. Why does she want to crush you?” Leah’s face goes bright red.

“Okay!” You get everyone’s attention. “Let’s play some football!”

They all split themselves into teams while you and Leah stay on the sidelines. Watching your wife with all the children is making you feel lots of emotions.

“She’s so good with kids.”

“Am I gonna get any godbabies soon?”

You snap your head towards Leah. “Who said you’d be the godmother?”

“I’m just manifesting. Don’t make me wait too long.” Leah walks away, seeing Alessia walking towards you.

“Hi, love.”

“Hey, baby.”

“What were you two talking about?”

“How my ovaries are bursting watching you with kids.” She wraps an arm around your waist, you looking up at her, chin on her chest. “You’d be such a great mum.”

“You would too.”

“You think it’s time?”

“I mean…” She’s looking down at you suggestively, a smirk on her face. “We can start trying once we get home.”

“Hate to break it to you, but none of us have the right parts for that.”

“Doesn’t mean that we can’t practice.”

“Lessi!”

[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

002 》 LEE CHAN

you’d discovered you weren’t one for wine, but maybe you weren’t one for whiskey, either. when a classmate finally works up the courage to ask you out, you thought it might be divine timing. now with thanksgiving only seven weeks away, will he be the one?

wc 8.3k | lil toxic argument, drinking, dino being a little cutie pie angel baby

sunday and monday you were floating, tip toeing on clouds with your head so far in a hyunjin induced dream you couldn’t find your way down. but that’s all it was — a dream, because when tuesday rolled around something was different. off. 

sunday you had spent the entire day in your house, cleaning up your room like you did every week and catching up on laundry. hyunjin was receiving live updates (that he asked for) and responding to each one with encouragement, followed by words of endearment, calling you every pet name in the book. he told you he missed you probably a total of four times on sunday.

your head hit the pillow with a smile and you woke up monday morning still on facetime. you hung up before he opened his eyes, taking a moment to look at his gorgeous sleeping face before ending the call, not wanting to risk him waking up to you staring at him. monday you went to your classes with less time to flood your text thread, but you figured he was probably busy when he didn’t spam yours, either. 

monday night he said he couldn’t facetime, he had a friend over. cool, totally fine, no biggie at all. tuesday you didn’t even get a goodmorning text— you’d been receiving those for almost a week now. you figured maybe you just woke up before him, so you sent him one instead. he didn’t respond until two pm.

when you got back home after your classes on tuesday, you and hyunjin had barely spoken a word, you’d only sent two texts in the thread and were waiting on a reply. you were trying to be casual about it, not check your phone every minute and force your brain to not think anything of it, not think about it period. the truth was, you were panicking. 

“i need you guys to be honest with me,” you stood at the bottom of the stairs to your basement, ace and your three best friends sitting on the couch before the tv. 

all four of them barely gave you a glance, eyes focused on the game on the tv, controllers in their hands.

“we’re always honest with you,” yeosang answers, eyes still trained on the flat screen. “fucking sweats!” 

“don’t tell me you died again!” ace yelled, his jaw dropping, “i can’t rez you, we’re getting third partied.” 

“we’re getting fucked,” san gasps, before he groans, then the four of them simultaneously yell out a fuck! they must’ve all died, which is pretty solid timing for you.

“okay, now can you be honest with me?” you walk over to the couch, plopping yourself down in the only space open beside yunho, with ace, san and yeosang to his left. 

“what’s up?” yunho asks, putting the controller next to him on the couch, eyes focused only on you. 

you told them everything, from the date to how you felt about it to now — skipping over the unnecessary details of being in hwang hyunjin’s bed — they fed you uneasy expressions, it made the pit in your stomach drop. 

“oh, i’m fucked, aren’t i?” you asked after you looked around the room, everyone’s face looking… sad? pitiful? disappointed? you couldn’t pinpoint it. 

“unfortunately, i think you might be,” ace’s lips pulled into a thin line, giving you a curt nod with closed eyes. “he’s probably never going to answer that text.” 

“but i thought it went really well!” you whined, body sinking into the couch, head falling back. you picked it back up, eyebrows furrowed, “he even wanted me to sleep over!” 

“probably so he could fuck you again,” san wore a frown, leaned over on his legs with his chin in his palm. “if you like him, why’d you fuck him? i would’ve made him wait.” 

you turned to your twin, “ace, close your ears.” 

he covered his ears with his hands immediately, eyes closing and humming loudly into the air to block out whatever you didn’t want him to hear — he definitely didn’t want to hear the details either.

“i don’t think i liked him all that much until we were fucking,” you shrugged, your next words became hushed just incase ace could hear. “he even made me… you know.” 

“even? like he- wait, you- why are you saying it like that?” yeosang’s eyebrows were furrowed, head shaking as he spoke, leaning even closer toward you from his far spot on the couch.

“is that not normal? are we talking about the same thing right now?” san asked, he wore the same expression, eyebrows scrunched together and eyes full of disbelief. 

“what do you mean?” your cheeks flushed —  you hadn’t shared much of your sex life with your three best friends, you didn’t shy away from talking about it per se but where there were the three, ace was usually following close behind. he was always more open about that stuff than you. 

“do the guys you sleep with usually not make you finish?” yunho cleared the air, nipping the miscommunication before it could go any further. ace took a pause, swallowing his spit and taking a breather before he continued his humming. 

“no?” you looked between the three of them with a question mark over your head, “hyunjin was the first to do it.”

your three best friends looked horrified. 

“jesus christ, tiny,” san shook his head, leaning back on the couch.

“yeah, you’re not getting over him any time soon,” yeosang shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest while joining san against the cushions. 

“you’ll be fine, teens,” yunho rolled his eyes at his friends’ reactions, “you do need to pick better guys to fuck, though.”

“great,” you huffed, standing up from your spot on the couch, “this is really really great and awesome, you guys. i go on one date, one, and look at what happens! i have super great fantastic sex like someone told me to and i get ghosted?! this is pointless!” 

ace opens his eyes before he lets go of his ears, watching you pace around the room. he looks between the three boys around him, “what’d you say to her?” 

“we didn’t say anything!” yeosang’s eyebrows are in his hairline, “she’s freaking out because he’s ghosting her.” 

“relax tiny, it’s only been a couple of hours,” ace looks up to you, a shred of concern in his eyes, “best thing you can do is act like you don’t care. don’t double text, don’t watch his social media, nothing — watch him text you back, and when he does, don’t answer.” 

you pause your pacing, hands on your sweatpant covered hips with a glare pointed at your twin, “that’s fucking stupid.” 

“but it works,” your twin smiles, “do you want to get a boyfriend or not?” 

in your classroom management lecture the next day, you had hyunjin’s instagram open on the long desk in front of you. his profile picture was circled with a red line, meaning he had a story available, beckoning you to watch. ace’s words rang in your head, don’t look at his social media — but it’s so hard. 

he’d been watching every single thing you posted, it only pissed you off more. he did end up texting you back yesterday, a simple one word answer, one that took every fiber of your being not to answer. you didn’t listen to ace for many things, but considering he was the one in the relationship and you were not, you figured you’d give his theory a try. 

“did you do the assignment from last week?” you lock your phone, following the voice to the guy that sat next to you. you think his name was chad, chase maybe…?

“uh, yes, it was due three days ago. did you?” you furrow your eyebrows and he gives you a weak smile, bringing his hand up to scratch his head. he has a nice smile. 

“i’ll take that as a no,” you smile back, running your fingers over the mousepad on your laptop that had gone into sleep mode. “i can email it to you if you want?” 

“that would be amazing, you’re a lifesaver. thank you,” he leans into your space, peering over at your laptop screen as you pull up the assignment. he smelled good, his cologne was something unique, somewhere between smoky and floral — you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

he types in his email, lee.chan021199@coupsuni.edu, saving you the embarrassment of asking his name that he’d probably already told you plenty of times. his blonde hair curled under his ears, laying messy atop his head, straight nose peeking out from where he stared at your screen. this could work. 

you push your hair behind your ear, “if you need any other help with assignments or anything, uh, you can always ask me.” 

“really?” he smiles wide, his eyes bright, “thank you so much, er— what was your name again?” 

your lips scrunch in an attempt to hide your laugh, he didn’t know your name either. you reintroduce yourselves, both smiley and giggly in the back of your lecture hall. you couldn't believe you didn’t point him out earlier, in his oversized hoodie and thick pair of sweats he looked delectable. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a girlfriend. 

if hyunjin wasn’t going to work out— which at the moment it was looking like he would not, maybe lee chan could. 

you chatted for the rest of class, hushed whispers that only got you two looks from the people sitting in the row before you. you talked about your classes in the past three years, your professors, where and when you’d be taking up a student teaching role this year. the conversation flowed easily, chan made you feel like you’d known him for years, he spoke extremely well and much too casually for this to be the first time you’d really spoken. 

you ended the class with your phone number in his contacts, where he created a new text thread the moment you parted ways. you left the lecture hall feeling more educated than you had all semester, and it had nothing to do with classroom management. 

when you got to your car, you were quick to turn on the heat to defrost the november chill that had seeped its way into your bones. when you went to plug in your phone, you almost screamed at the notification that was sitting on your lockscreen. 

hyunjin: hey pretty girl, miss you already hyunjin: can i see you this weekend? i’m free friday 

as if adrenaline was shot directly into your veins, every thought about lee chan disappeared. you were quick to screenshot the messages, sending them in your groupchat named ‘🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒 (and tiny)’.

you: [1 image: attachment] you: THAT SHIT FUCKING WORKEDDD

it took less than a minute for your boys to answer you.

yeo: are we getting live updates now  yeo: is that whats going on yeo: (yay btw)

you: YEA. UR ALL INVOLVED NOW

twin: see what happens when u listen to me

sannie: yay!!!! why are we yelling!!!

you: BC IM HAPPY AND EXCITED AND HE TEXTED ME

yunho: he misses u “already” .. it’s been four days yunho: eeeek

you: but he misses me you: did u see where he said that you: btw just in case u missed it

— yunho liked your messages.

you didn’t realize that you had forgotten to text chan back in your hyunjin-related daze, only remembering he existed when you saw his blonde hair peeking out of his hoodie as he walked to his seat on friday. 

your face felt hot as you followed behind him, completely embarrassed that you had forgotten to answer him, and now you had to sit next to him for the next hour. was he mad at you? did he care at all? you were usually really good about answering your texts — you had to apologize. 

“chan,” you said as soon as you sat down, the word escaping your lips before your bag hit the ground. “i am so sorry i forgot to answer you.” 

he lifted his head, almost looking surprised at your words, his bright eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “don’t apologize, i assumed your boyfriend saw my text and didn’t want you to answer.” 

“my boyfriend?” you cock your head to the side, and chan looked at you like you had three heads. 

“yeah, the guy’s instagram you were looking at on wednesday? you were staring at it for like, the whole class,” he said it like that must’ve been the only answer — if you felt embarrassed before you started the conversation, this was mortification. 

“oh my god, chan, that is not my boyfriend,” you waved your hands in front of you, you could feel the heat in your ears. “he’s just… he’s an influencer i follow.” 

he laughs, his head tipping back, “that makes total sense! i thought he was going to find me after class and beat me up or something.” 

you shake your head, laughing alongside him, grateful for your quick thinking. a little white lie never hurt anybody, especially not lee chan when he turned to you and asked, “wait, so you’re single?” 

you give him a nod, “painfully.” 

“that’s good!” he smiles, his voice getting a bit louder. your classmates that sat around you turned their heads, following the interruption— class hadn’t even started yet. he hushed his voice, quickening the pace at which he spoke as he continued, “well, not good for you, but good for me. actually, it could be good for both of us, depending on your answer.” 

“my answer?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 

he raised a flat palm to his blonde forehead, squeezing his eyes tight, “damn, i fucked that up. do you like whiskey?” 

a smile threatens to break out across your cheeks, the left corner of your mouth lifting up. “i might, i’ve never had it before. why?” 

“there’s a tasting tour at a distillery on the edge of the city, i’ve been dying to go for a while now but none of my friends will go with me. i figured since i want to get to know you better, and maybe you want to get to know me better—”

“lee chan, are you asking me out on a date?”

“i’m trying to,” his smile is wide, a rosy hue to his cheeks. “are you free tomorrow night?” 

“i am,” you nod with a laugh, “i’d love to go, sounds fun.” 

his smile is impossibly bigger as he claps his hands in front of him, “thank god.” 

getting ready to go over hyunjin’s place wasn’t as nerve wracking as the last time, you could dress a lot more comfortably, but you still wanted to impress. a lounge set that clung to every inch of you and a pair of faux sheepskin boots covered your feet, equally as cozy as it was cute. if going to his place ended up anything like last time, you wanted to dress the part. desirable, yet not trying too hard. 

as you walk into your kitchen to fill up your water bottle almost your entire family is stood around the island, already deep in conversation. they all turn to you and you stop in your tracks, but no one says a word. 

“you should just knock on his door and say take your pants off,” yeosang broke the silence with his hand in a bag of chips, looking at you through hooded, red eyes, glossed over enough to shine under the cool lighting of the kitchen. 

you shrug, not sparing him a glance when you said, “not a bad idea.” 

“tiny!” your mom scolds, a fake gasp on her lips before she winks, “at least make him work for it first.” 

“we’re missing the point here,” your stepdad comments with a frown, shaking his head, “i don’t want to hear about that shit.” 

you smile, “don’t listen then.” 

“tiny,” she warns as you fill your water, ignoring her. the rest of the boys were quiet for once, ace not even cutting in to defend your stepdad, he knew better by now. everyone did.

“i’m leaving!” you call as you finish filling your water, turning on your heel to walk to your front door. you hear steps behind you, a six foot two hindrance on your tail. 

“are you sure you want to go over there?” his eyes are less red than yeosang’s, more glossy than anything as you turn to face him. 

you’re taken aback, not expecting yunho out of all people to hold you up. you have one hand on the door handle as you ask, “why wouldn’t i?” 

“i have a bad feeling about him, teens, i don’t know,” he lifts the cap off his head to run a hand through his hair, then pulls his hat back on. he looked stressed, eyes darting everywhere but your own and fingers tugging at the hem of his hoodie. you brushed him off.

“don’t be ridiculous, he’s just a guy. i’ll be fine,” you bid him a smile and wave of your hand before you fully turn around again, slipping through your front door before he had the chance to get another word out. 

you felt uneasy as you slipped into the driver’s seat, yunho has never spoken to you like that — never put his two cents into anything that had to do with your love life, even if it just became existent. 

in high school, with your petty crushes and kisses behind the bleachers, he’d never been anything but supportive. through all of your conversations about meaningless hookups in college he’d never given you more than a smile and a nod, he’d never called you out or mentioned anything of an opinion. you didn’t know how to take it. 

as hyunjin opened his front door, he wore that same kind smile that got you under him in the first place. dressed in a loose fitting tee shirt and sweatpants that hung off his hips, you almost took yeosang’s advice. 

“hey, baby,” he pulled you inside by your waist, planting a quick kiss on your lips. when he pulled away he licked his bottom lip, raising his eyebrows in satisfaction, “strawberry?” 

you smiled, mumbling about your lip gloss being new as you took your boots off, keeping your purse on your shoulder. he walked off into his kitchen and you followed, white socks sliding against the dark hardwood floor. 

“want a drink? i have wine,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, a mischievous smile on his lips. you felt off— you didn’t know if it was from yunho’s words placing paranoia in your brain or if there really was some sort of weird tension between you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

you shook your head, putting your purse and water bottle on his counter. “i brought water, thank you though.” 

maybe it was all in your head, hyunjin seemed completely normal as he sauntered toward you, placing his hands on your hips, pulling you flat against him. his words came out low, dragged out as he said, “i missed you.” he pressed his forehead to yours and you smiled, running your fingers up his arms to his shoulders. 

“missed you too,” you pressed your lips to his, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. he kissed you softly, lips moving in a slow rhythm, his tongue slipping into your mouth. his hands moved up to your chest, feeling you through your top, and you sighed into the kiss. 

all you could think was that he had ample time to see you since last saturday, it’s been nearly a week. you weren’t as into it as you were last weekend.

he pulled back, his eyes at half mast and searing into yours. he lifted a brow, “everything okay?” 

“yeah!” your voice was high pitched, an extremely clear lie, one that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

he stepped back, back hitting the edge of the counter, arms crossing. “what’s up with you?” 

he spoke as if you’d known each other forever, as if your behavior was uncommon. it didn’t sit right with you, it felt fake, like he was pretending to know you so well. you wanted to slap yunho — if he hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have walked inside hyunjin’s apartment with a sour feeling in your gut. now the feeling wouldn’t leave you, and you only had him to blame.

“nothing,” you shook your head, trying your best to wear a convincing smile. beneath the facade was your date, how the doormen at the exhibit knew his name, the mind blowing sex you had, how he nearly ghosted you after, how he’s acting now, yunho’s words in the back of your mind… you were beginning to wish you hadn’t come here. 

he tipped his head back with a sigh before answering, “is it because i didn’t text you much this week? i’m sorry, baby, i’ve been really busy.”

you nodded, wearing the smallest smile, “it’s okay, you don’t owe me anything.”

he lifted a brow, “that was too easy.” he stepped toward you again, painted fingertips reaching for your arms, pulling you close to him. “you sure nothing’s bothering you?”

“how did the guy working the door at the exhibit know your name?” the question fled from you without you allowing it to, your eyes widening in surprise for just a second after you’d processed what you asked. you stared up at him and he was taken aback, mouth opening and closing a few times before responding.

“me and him go way back,” he smiled, glancing down to his fingers that still held onto your forearms. “an old friend from high school.”

you lifted a brow, “what about when you flat out told me you’d never been to the exhibit before, yet you knew everything that was in there?”

his lips pursed as he stepped back, putting distance between you. 

“you go there all the time, hyunjin, the doormen know you because you go there. often,” your eyes were piercing him now, you didn’t know where this was coming from. wednesday you were ecstatic about coming here, even moreso tonight, right before yunho opened his fucking mouth. 

he let out a laugh, as if you were making all of this up. “no i do not!”

“what about when you said you didn’t take me back here just to sleep with me?” you couldn’t stop now, anger rising up from a place you didn’t know existed. you could hear san’s words in your head, when you mentioned hyunjin wanted you to sleep over last saturday — probably so he could fuck you again. “why’d you invite me over tonight, hyunjin? so you could kiss me and feel me up through my top? get me back in your bedroom?”

“do you hear yourself right now?” his eyes were wide, a smile on his face that told you he was amused. “i didn’t think you were the crazy type, i guess there’s nothing different about you.”

you stared at him, expression unchanging, jaw locked and eyes ripping him apart without saying a word. he still stood with that cocky smile, hair falling so effortlessly around his face, it enraged you even more. 

“come on, baby, i don’t wanna fight…” he stepped forward again, fingers once more reaching for your wrists. you tucked them behind your back, giving him one last look before you grabbed your stuff and moved. 

it was a quick walk back to his foyer where your boots lived, it felt entirely too long with hyunjin on your heel. “are you seriously gonna go? what was your plan, come over here, yell at me and then leave?!”

you stayed silent, pulling your boots over your heels, then reached for the door handle. you whipped it open and he caught it, arm looming over your head as you slipped out of his apartment.

 “this was a waste of my fucking time.”

you didn’t look back once as the door slammed behind you, keeping it together until you made it to your car – then the tears fell. the past week of your life felt like whiplash, is this what dating is like?

you didn’t know if you had it in you to do this again, repeat the process, if it was even worth it just to show off to your family. you leaned back in the driver’s seat of your car, tears falling silently onto your top, the only noise in the car was your sniffles. 

“please give me some kind of sign, any sort of guidance. i need to know if i’m doing the right thing,” you whispered into the air, eyes trained on the ceiling of your car, but your gaze went way further than that. you hoped he could hear you. 

the distillery was something out of a grown man’s wet dream, there was way more to be toured and learned than you imagined. you hadn’t imagined it all actually, not until about an hour before chan picked you up, then you just imagined a big bar. 

there were so many different things to see during the tour — it was an experience. from ingredients to water source, fermentation tanks and stills, barrel rooms for storage, how they package bottles all the way down to the tasting. not only did you get to go to the tasting room, but chan added on a cocktail creating class for you to learn how to make different drinks with whiskey. 

you learned you did not like whiskey — not one bit. the easiest to drink was a honey bourbon, sweeter and less smokey than the other ones you’d tried, but it was extremely easy to appreciate the liquor for how much work was put into making it. 

when you were in the tasting room, the tour guide was adding water and ice to almost every single pour you’d tried and you still had to fight the gag that fought to rise up in your throat. you had the back of your hand glued to your nose, fighting to get the taste out of your mouth. 

chan, on the other hand, was loving it. in the barrel room, the tour guide was shooting different types of whiskey into his glass, all raw, undiluted and straight from the barrel. the strength of it was no joke, you saw the pink rise to chan’s cheeks after his second glass — at that point you still had the tasting room to go to and the class. 

“this is actually really good,” chan’s eyes were wide in surprise as he slid the deep caramel liquid in his glass toward you, cheeks tinted a cool rose. 

you were sitting in the tasting room, on your fifth and last pour. you tapped out long ago, and chan had not only been tasting his share, but yours too. you dipped your tongue into his glass like you’d done the four previous times and cringed, it was spicy. 

you coughed, eyebrows knitted together and your hand immediately coming up to cover your mouth to keep the bile at the bottom of your stomach. you breathed through your nose, tears beginning to form at the base of your eyelashes. 

chan didn’t notice, instead he looked toward the guide, his hand shooting up in the air. “why does the rye taste so different?

the guide smiles, oblivious to his clear intoxication, “the rye is the spice, it gives it the kick unlike the sweeter bourbon, that’s why it’s paired so well with dark chocolate.” 

chan turns to you, his expression dead serious as he says, “we should get a bottle and a bag of dark chocolate, that’s probably really good.” 

chan had said really good about eighty times since his cheeks had grown pink, at this point it was funny how many times he could repeat the words. 

“i’m good, actually,” your lips form a thin line, waving your hand in front of you. you’d be perfectly fine going your entire life without tasting whiskey again.

chan frowns, “didn’t you like this one?” he goes to grab an almost empty glass, a sweeter bourbon that you hated the least. instead of grabbing it, his hands tip the glass over, which falls into another almost empty glass, spilling different shades of honey liquid all over your small table. 

chan gasps, bidding you a sheepish smile, “oops.” 

you glance around, there was not a paper towel to be seen. you whispered a fuck before you hopped up from your seat, legs rushing to the bathroom to get paper towels. 

you caught yourself in the mirror as you reached the bathroom, over your shoulder as you pressed the dispenser repeatedly. you took a moment with yourself to take a deep breath, fighting the tightness in your throat, forcing the tears to stay where they’d formed. it was all too much. 

you refused to cry in the bathroom on a date with your drunk classmate, especially not over being overstimulated. you shook your head, pulling yourself together and darted back out to clean up his mess. 

“thank you, ‘m sorry,” he mumbled, looking up to you with his big doe eyes as you wiped down the table. you smiled, he was so fucking cute. how could you be upset at a face like his?

“no biggie, i cleaned it all up,” you held up the paper towels as proof. 

he leaned his head against your side as you stood over the table, his fingers in his lap, a yawn ripping from his chest. maybe you’d only been on one date previous to this, but this had to be the weirdest position you’ve found yourself in yet. you convinced yourself before you came to not cancel, you thought it’d be uplifting after what happened with hyunjin —which it is, thanks to his cute face and repetition of really good— but the foul mood you’d been in since last night loomed over you. 

maybe you should’ve rescheduled, waited until you were in a better headspace before cracking your exterior to let chan in. it was too much, so many things happened in twenty four hours, you wanted to sleep. you still had the cocktail class after this. 

the guide finished up the tasting, taking your group to the distillery’s bar area, a long oak counter before a wall of whiskey. there were bar stools as if it was a regular old bar, which you were sure it was, with time scheduled out to hold these classes. 

chan wobbled in behind you, fingers tangled with your own, moreso you pulling him along than you were holding his hand. he was still giggly about it, staring at your linked fingers with a wide grin, you couldn’t help the warm feeling in your stomach from how adorable he is. 

chan wasn’t like hyunjin, didn’t ooze sex appeal the way hyunjin did, wasn’t flirting with you with big facts and lore about things you’d never understand. chan was almost innocent, with his fluffy blonde hair and skateboarder clothes, not once during your entire date so far did you really pick up on anything romantic between you. 

it felt like you were out on an excursion with a good friend, trying out something new with someone enjoyable. even if you didn’t necessarily enjoy what you were doing, it was so fun to do something new, and experience it with someone new. 

“welcome, welcome,” you looked up at the bar after helping chan get situated at the stool, and who stood tall behind it took your breath away. 

with skin like honeyed amber, brown curls that laid carelessly over his forehead, a straight jaw that held up a smile that could kill… he was perfect. he put hyunjin to shame. 

you supposed you couldn’t compare them, broad shoulders and a sculpted chest, arms so muscular you couldn’t stop staring. hyunjin was a masterpiece on his own, but this man had an entirely different aura. he reeked of old money, poise, a maturity you realized you were looking for in the wrong places. 

“this class is gonna be really good,” chan beamed, hand holding his face with his elbow propped up on the bar. you agreed with a sound of amusement then brought your eyes back to the man whose face you needed to burn to memory.

“i’m mingyu, your bartender and your teacher for the next,” he looked down to his watch, a gold band with a face so intricate you knew it was expensive, “forty three minutes.” 

“i’ll be teaching you how to make three classic cocktails today— a manhattan, an old fashioned,” he glances to all of you sat around the bar and you swore his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, “and to get a little fancy with it, a vieux carre.”

“what’s a vieux carre?” chan asked from beside you— you think social anxiety is afraid of him as the entire bar turns to look at who asked the question, he doesn’t even notice. your cheeks flush, trying to escape everyone’s focus. 

mingyu smiles, canines on display, “you beat me to it.” 

“first i’ll get into the history, just in case there are any other whiskey nerds amongst the group,” he winks and you nearly pass away. you wish you heard a word that left his lips after that wink but your ears tuned him out, his mouth was moving but your thoughts were too loud to hear anything. 

how his pretty lips moved when he spoke, the veins that rose in his neck as a chuckle escaped him, how his fingers held onto the shaker, his build was incredible. 

“…you’ll find that a vieux carre is most popular in new orleans where it originated, it was invented in the 1930s by a bartender named walter bergeron. the name vieux carre literally means ‘old square’, a nod to the french quarter of new orleans,” his gaze fell over chan as he speaks, eyes pointed in a way to let chan know he was answering his question, “it contains rye whiskey, cognac, sweet vermouth, benedictine liqueur, and bitters.” 

you burned under his gaze even if he wasn’t looking at you, a heat that lingered even after he looked away. 

“in front of all of you are three sets of ingredients, tools, all organized into groups for each drink we’ll be making,” mingyu explains, pacing from one end of the oak bar to the other. 

you turned to chan, whose face lit up at the sight of all the spirits, liqueurs and bitters in front of him. “we’re going to share,” you said under your breath in his direction and he gave you a look that said definitely, eyebrows scrunched and lips pursed with a thumbs up. you fought a giggle at his look, everything he did has been making you laugh all day. 

mingyu began explaining how to make a manhattan, and the more you listened the more you realized you’d be making all of the drinks — chan would have to be your taste tester, much too buzzed to be able to pour a half ounce shot. 

you nodded to yourself, pulling all of the ingredients towards you as mingyu kept explaining, setting yourself up. two ounces of rye whiskey, one ounce of sweet vermouth, two dashes of bitters and a cherry — easy enough. 

“can i pour the stuff?” chan asked from beside you, halfway off his barstool, fully pushing himself into your space. 

“i’ll measure, you pour,” you nodded without looking at him, adding ice into your glass and setting it to the side. 

you grabbed the bottle of bitters and handed it to chan, “shake this in there a few times.” 

he did as he was told, adding a little more than you would’ve into the shaker but you were sure it was fine. you poured the vermouth into the one ounce side of the jigger and handed it to chan, who poured it inside the shaker (almost missing the shaker completely). you repeated the process twice with the whiskey and shook it with ice, pouring it into your chilled glass, and chan added a cherry on top with a proud smile. 

“it’s perfect,” chan marveled, eyes widening at how gorgeous the cocktail looked in the glass — you agreed. 

“let me taste,” mingyu walked over, a thin straw in his hand, where he dipped it in and plugged one end of the straw, locking the liquid inside. 

the way he lifted it to his lips was criminal, his long finger covering one end of the straw, how his lips parted to taste the drink all while keeping eye contact with you. it almost fogged your brain completely when he started speaking. 

“strong on the bitters there,” he lifted his brows, a smile crossing his face, “but good nonetheless, nice job.”

you beamed— pride consuming you. you never thought you’d be proud of curating a cocktail that only consisted of three ingredients, but the way he complimented you made you feel like you had just climbed a mountain. 

you tasted it yourself after thanking him, taking a small sip of the drink. you cringed, tasting the spice of the whiskey so heavily, and chan looked eager, hand already outstretched to take it from you. you passed it over as soon as the taste hit your tongue. 

“that’s fucking disgusting,” you muttered, nose crinkled, lips in a frown. chan giggles as he takes a swig of the drink, getting it down with ease. 

“it’s delicious,” chan disagrees, “we have really good teamwork flowing right now, you making the drinks and me drinking them.” 

you snort without noticing mingyu, who was walking back over to you wearing a dangerously gorgeous smirk on his lips, “ah, not a fan of whiskey?” 

you wipe all emotion off of your face in surprise before a nervous laugh escapes you, “it’s just strong.” 

he laughs with you, nodding along, “not many kids like you make it through a distillery tour and tasting without liking whiskey, maybe one of the cocktails will change your mind.” 

you internally cringe as kids like you floats off his lips — how old is this guy to be calling you a kid? he doesn’t look a day over twenty five. 

he looks to chan who had taken another big swig of the cocktail, almost finishing it off, “actually, maybe you should just focus on getting him home safely.” 

you hadn’t even thought of that— chan had driven you both here. your face drops and mingyu chuckles again before directing his attention to the rest of the bar. 

“okay… there’s a lot of drama surrounding the correct way to make an old fashioned, so i’ll make this quick — you’ll be learning how to make kim mingyu’s old fashioned.” 

by the time the class was over, chan was hammered. three strong drinks and a couple of secret two ounce pours of rye whiskey straight down his throat, he was done for. you didn’t stop him, though, he was so happy you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. a part of you wondered what his plan was if you couldn’t drive you both back to his place. 

“you gonna be okay?” mingyu rips your attention from your phone to him as you stand in the middle of the room, waiting for chan to return from the bathroom before you leave. 

“what do you mean?” your eyebrows furrow as he walks closer, and you finally see him from the waist down. a pair of white slacks, a thin, black belt, paired with the slightly oversized cardigan he had on— you couldn’t match his expensive if you wore your mother’s entire wardrobe. 

“is he your boyfriend? the little, drunk blondie?” he tilted his head with a ghost of a smile, one of his hands sliding into his pockets. 

you stared at him in disbelief, eyes slightly pointed because you didn’t know if that was an insult or not, “the little drunk blondie is a friend from my class.” 

“class?” he lifted an eyebrow, “did you show your ID before coming in here or do i have to fire incompetent staff?” 

your lips parted for a moment before you asked, “fire staff?” you knew he looked older, he definitely portrayed a certain maturity but you didn’t think a mere bartender would have a position high enough to fire someone. 

“my point is, are you gonna be okay getting home? you’re sober?” you blinked at him twice before a smile planted itself on your face, he stayed after to talk to you. he approached you. maybe you weren’t crazy and his eyes did linger on you for a moment longer, maybe he was in yours and chan’s corner more than anyone else’s.

“you think i actually drank any of that?” you smirked, tilting your head to one side, “couldn’t stomach shit after the barrel room tasting.” 

he tsks, his own mouth lifting at the corner, “it’s an acquired taste, maybe you’re not old enough yet, tiny.” 

you audibly gasped— he said it wrong, but the word tiny definitely just left his lips. “what did you just call me?” 

his eyes widen and you could see the tips of his ears redden, “i- it wasn’t an insult, i just don’t know your name and—”

“no, no,” you shook your head with a surprised laugh, waving your hands, “my family calls me tiny, that caught me off guard, i’m sorry.” 

you run a hand through your hair as his cheeks redden, so unlike the demeanor he portrayed. that rich poise he exuded was gone in a moment, a childlike innocence taking over with his embarrassment. fuck— you were so into him, and you’re on a date with someone else.

“anyways, i’m sober and we’ll get home perfectly safe. thank you for asking,” you smile, catching chan enter the room from the wooden double doors behind mingyu. 

he wore a huge smile, nearly skipping over to you as he yelled, “mingyu! thanks for a really good class, i loved it!” 

he slightly slurred his words, reaching up to put his hand on mingyu’s shoulder that towered over him. mingyu smiled down to chan, “of course, anytime, man. i’ll give you my card just in case you’re interested in buying whiskey— straight from the source.” 

his gaze turned to you as he finished his sentence, reaching for his wallet as he spoke. he pulled out a small louis vuitton card wallet, handing you his business card from inside. 

it was brown with white lettering, the name seventeen whiskey on the front with kim mingyu on the back, owner right beneath his name, and his contact information directly beneath that. 

you looked up at him in shock, clutching his card between your fingers, firing incompetent staff made a lot more sense now. even his outfit made more sense— you felt silly for thinking he was just a bartender. he owned the entire fucking distillery. 

“i want one too,” chan looked up to mingyu, bidding him those doe eyes that no one could say no to with a pout, and mingyu was quick to fall victim — you would’ve, too. 

you both bid mingyu goodnight and walked out of the distillery, bracing yourselves for the long walk back to chan’s car. when you finally sat in the driver’s seat you gave yourself a moment to breathe— he’s gorgeous, he’s kind, he called you tiny out of all things, he’s the owner. he gave you his number.

as you started your drive back to chan’s with low music humming through the speakers, you could feel the business card in your pocket burning through the denim of your jeans. he gave you his personal number, that meant you should call him tomorrow, right? or did he really mean for whiskey purposes? 

you shook your head, he was definitely inconspicuously giving you his number. even if he outright said call me you didn’t think chan would notice in his state, you could've said anything to chan and it would’ve gone in one ear and out the other. 

as you pulled into the parking lot of chan’s apartment complex you finally looked over to him and he was knocked out. eyes closed, hands clutching the hoodie he had on, he was out cold. you smiled, his sleeping face was so cute. 

after you parked, you pulled out your phone and dialed ace’s number to pick you up— no answer. you huffed, head leaning back into the headrest before dialing yunho’s number instead. 

“teens? you okay?” he answered after one ring, a panic to his voice. 

“yeah i’m okay, can you pick me up please? chan got real—”

“absolutely, send me your location, i’m on my way,” he hung up and you sent him your location, then turned to the sleeping chan beside you. you smiled again, the serene expression on his face and the soft, rhythmic breaths he let out, his chest rising and falling with such a calm you were jealous of. he’s so beautiful.

“chan, time to go in,” you grabbed his arm lightly, giving it a small squeeze. he stirred and you squeezed him again, and one eye finally opened. 

“huh?” he asked, stretching his limbs, looking every shade of confused. you snorted again, rubbing his arm where you squeezed it. 

“let’s get you inside,” you smiled and unbuckled his seatbelt for him, then got out of your seat, walking around the car to open his door. you put out a hand for him to grab, “come on, sleepy.” 

you smiled the entire walk up to his apartment— this felt so backwards, but so fitting for chan. his apartment was so boy, with sports posters and magazines and the mess. you knew he had roommates from the piled up shoes at the door but none showed their faces as you walked him to his bedroom. 

he plopped on the bed, peeking at you with the eye still visible with his head crushing his pillow, “you’re not staying?” 

you couldn’t stop smiling as you sat on the corner of his bed, giving him a shake of your head. “not tonight, it’s bedtime for you, lee chan.”

the corner of his smile was visible and he closed his eyes, mumbling through the fluff of his pillow, “had a really good time tonight, thank you for coming with me.” 

you stood and walked to the door, shutting off his light before you said, “goodnight, chan.” 

when you walked out of his room, a guy stared right back at you. jaw dropped, hand in a bag of chips, glasses on his face— he was stunned. brown hair curled atop his head, down his neck, a baggy sweater hung on his shoulders. all of chan’s friends must be as cute as him, this one resembled something like a chipmunk with his mouth full of chips. 

you gave him a smile too along with a small wave as you left the way you came, through his front door. yunho was parked right outside and you let out a sigh of relief, you could sleep so soon. 

your brain was whirling as you got in his passenger seat— you had so much to unpack, so much to think about. it all started yesterday. 

“everything okay?” were the first words out of yunho’s mouth, “do i need to kill anyone?” 

you laughed, shaking your head, “no, chan just got hammered at the distillery and i had to take him home, no biggie.” 

he lifted a brow as he put the car in drive, “the man who took you on a date got too drunk to take you home? i’ve never heard of someone getting fucked up at a distillery.” 

you shrug, “he was having fun.” 

“sorry it didn’t go well,” yunho frowned, turning the wheel to pull out of chan’s development. he had soft rock playing through the music again, you were sure his fingers would tap along to the music any minute now. 

“it went great, actually,” you smiled, “he might not be boyfriend material but he’s a really cool guy. i happened to meet someone else,” you wiggled your eyebrows towards yunho who gave you a look. 

“you met someone else on a date?” he asked, baffled, and your smile grew. 

“he’s the owner of the distillery, gave me his number on his business card. god, he’s so hot, he’s gotta be a step up from hyunjin,” you threw your head back on the headrest, eyes shut, smile on your face. yunho doesn’t share the smile. 

“anyone’s a step up from hyunjin,” he shook his head, “what happened yesterday, anyways? you came home crying, heard your sniffles through the wall.” 

“wow, thanks for checking on me,” you scoff, “you were right in your mysterious bad feeling about him, he sucks. just wanted to sleep with me, just like san said.” 

yunho paused, lips tightening into a line. “i’m sorry, teens, you deserve better than that.” 

you shrug, “it’s cool, the only reason i realized is because you said something, now i know not to trust art guys that kiss you while they fuck you.” 

as you pulled up to a red light, yunho faces you, expression dead serious as he says, “im serious, tiny.” 

you nod, feeling smaller under his gaze, letting out the smallest “i know.” 

“you’re special, teens, you can’t go around giving yourself to just anybody. you deserve someone who’s gonna appreciate you, cherish you, all the little parts about you. i’ve known you since you were born, i can’t sit back and watch you go on a slew of disaster dates with shitty guys who don’t deserve to breathe your air,” the light turns green and his gaze is back on the road, but yours doesn’t leave him. 

you stared at him as tears welled up in your waterline, you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t say anything, neither did he because yunho doesn’t talk like that. for the rest of the car ride, tears silently fell down your face as his fingers tapped his steering wheel to the song, but the silence wasn’t awkward. it was comforting— as yunho always was, as yunho always will be. 

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

tags: @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore

[paradiseprincesss]

imperfect for you | jonathan crane

i saw the moodboard @mothhball made for jonathan cranes mornings, and i was like i must write a fluffy fic about this immediately! also this is inspired by imperfect for you by ariana grande because as an ari stan, i had to write something based off her songs and this fit perfect with this song.

summary: you and jonathan spend the morning together, and you're feeling a little anxious from the stressful week you've had - but not to worry, your psychiatrist boyfriend knows exactly how to calm you down and cheer you up.

warnings: reader has a shitty week lol, minor age gap, kissing, jon spoils the reader hehehehe just fluff really

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

it was a quiet sunday morning, the sunlight beamed through the window of you and jonathan's shared apartment, and you stirred softly, waking from your sleep. you softly opened your eyes as you quietly awoke from your slumber - but you felt the absence of arms wrapped around you.

turning around, you noticed that the other side of the bed was empty, and you glanced over to the sunshine that was starting to peek through the curtains covering your big window; it was peaceful, serene.

you could hear water running in the kitchen, and some dishes being moved around as well as what sounded like utensils. with a yawn, you reached over to the bedside table and unplugged your phone, scrolling through the notifications. after a few moments of looking through your phone and replying to a few unanswered messages from your friends, you toss the phone on the pillow beside you with a quiet little huff.

the week you had with truly a week sent from hell. nothing seemed to be going right for you - nothing! true story. it all started on monday when your alarm didn't go off, and you were embarrassingly late to your lecture, which your professor wasn't too happy about. after the last half hour of the lecture you managed to catch, you had to beg your professor to extend the deadline for an assignment you had forgotten to hand in over the previous weekend, god it was humiliating.

then tuesday rolled around, and it was like the universe was punishing you. as you were driving to the gym, the check engine light in your car flicked on.

so, wednesday came along...and you didn't have a car since it was getting serviced in the shop, and jonathan was at work but you had to get groceries. you didn't want to walk to the grocery store because you'd have to carry the heavy groceries all the way back to your apartment, so you spent a ridiculous amount of money on getting your groceries delivered.

thursday and friday came and went, nothing too crazy happened until the end of the day on friday. as you were on your way home from the mechanics, with your repaired car (were not going to talk about the financial damage that did), you received a notification on your phone that your grade was updated for the late project you handed in, and the grade was...well, it wasn't the best mark you received, let's just say that.

when it came to saturday, you spent the day napping and wallowing in self pity, because after the week you had - why wouldn't you? jonathan was unfortunately working on saturday, which was unusual but he occasionally worked an extra shift on saturday if he needed to work through any extra patient files, intake forms, prescriptions and such. after he was off work, you were already curled up in bed and fast asleep, so he quietly showered and got into bed with you.

and now, finally, were here - sunday morning.

"sweetheart?" jonathan's voice snapped you out of your mental reflection of the shit week you just had, and you quickly looked up to see your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom.

jonathan wasn't in his usual suit and tie - no, he was in his grey sweats (don't even get me started on what those did to you), and his black t-shirt, and his glasses.

"i called out your name because i thought i heard you and i thought you had woken up, but you didn't respond. i came in here to check on you - are you okay, sweetheart?" he asks softly, looking at you with an expression that was mixed with him being both concerned but smitten at you in your sleepy state, bedhead and all.

as soon as he finished his sentence, the tears started to fall. you didn't even notice them really, but as soon as he saw you start to cry, he was rushing to sit with you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you in hopes to comfort you. jonathan placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head and spoke softly to you.

"oh, sweetheart..." he takes his hand and tilts your chin up to look at your pretty face, and uses his thumb to wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks, "what's wrong?"

you choked back a sob as he asked you that, and you looked away, embarrassed. "i've just had such a shitty week, jon. i feel like such a failure." you mumble, feeling yourself get worked up emotionally.

"hey," he says gently, softly guiding you to look at him again, "deep breaths, my love, deep breaths. you are not a failure."

you look at him with a pouty expression and teary eyes, his words always had an effect on you. "i barely passed on my last assignment, and i just- i just feel like i fucked up. it's so stupid."

"i understand, i can't imagine how stressful that must be." he softly says to you, even though he can imagine how stressful that is, he studied to be a doctor after all - but to him, your feelings were always a top priority, he always wanted you to feel validated.

"and," you say, tears overflowing again, "since the car was in the shop, i had to get the groceries delivered to the apartment and it was expensive - and don't even get me started on the car. that was a nightmare, it was expensive to fix the stupid thing."

jonathan just chuckles softly, "i told you to use my card for things like that, sweetheart. groceries, car payments, shopping, all that - i gave you my other credit card specifically so that you wouldn't have to worry about that kind of stuff." jonathan says softly, kissing the top of your head again.

"...well, i was stressed, okay? i forgot you gave it to me." you say, looking up at him innocently.

he just shook his head and laughed softly, pulling you into a kiss, and kept his arms around you, to hold you close, keep you there, be there for you.

after a moment, you pulled away to whisper softly to him. "thank you for loving me even when i'm a mess."

he looks at you lovingly, "i'll love you under any circumstance, darling, don't be silly." he says to you, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, the little action making your heart leap.

"before i knew you, i was always fucked up - like, so anxious all the time. emotionally distressed, i'm not even kidding...but i'm not like that since i met you." you say softly to him, as he kept you in his arms.

"you're the love of my life, you know that?" he mumbles against your lips as he leans in for another kiss, which you gladly let him do.

"you make the bad stuff delightful. i love you." you say, breathlessly, between kisses.

after he heard you say that, he kept you wrapped up in his arms, the two of you tangled slightly in between the white sheets of your shared bed, the sun gently glimmering through the window. for a moment, the world was still, just the two of you - perfection in a world of imperfection.

"i made breakfast and coffee..." he says softly, and took your hand in his, "we should have it before it gets cold."

you giggle softly with a nod, and take his hand letting him lead you into the kitchen.

these were your favourite kind of mornings, the ones spent with the man you love, the ones where you could blissfully ignore the world as you were too wrapped up in jonathans warm embrance to care about anything else.

[trickphotography2]

The Perfect Match

Every third week in March, fourth year medical students find out where they'll be going for their residency. A quick 2.2K word one-shot of Jake's girlfriend going through that process.

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

The nervous energy in the auditorium was almost overwhelming as the clock ticked closer to 11:50AM. All across the US, fourth-year medical students gathered in ceremonies like this, ready to find out where they would be headed in just a few months to begin their residency. It had been a long week - on Monday, everyone received an email letting them know if a residency program had selected them. For those who got one, it was a waiting game to see where they would be moving. Those who hadn't been selected went through the nerve-wracking SOAP process, hoping to secure a job after graduation. With the number of medical graduates increasing faster than residency positions, it wasn't always a guarantee. 

You, however, already knew where you were going and what specialty you would be practicing. For months last year, you'd flown across the country, interviewing with residency programs at different installations and civilian hospitals—backups in case you didn’t match with a base hospital and had to compete for a civilian spot. And a perk of matching through the military was getting notified of your posting in mid-December, while civilians had to wait until the third week of March. 

On December 15th, you received that wonderful email alerting you that you had matched into Emergency Medicine at Naval Medical Center San Diego. Not only was Emergency Medicine a competitive specialty, but the location meant that you would finally be able to be close to your long-distance boyfriend, Jake, after seven long years.

A chance encounter over Spring Break freshman year led to late-night calls when he returned to Annapolis and you to College Park. For four years, you lived 35 minutes apart in Maryland, stealing as much time as possible together over the weekends. And after graduation, you had a long conversation about your future.

Jake had been clear from the beginning that he wanted to be a pilot, just as you had been firm about attending medical school. He supported you as you struggled through Organic and Biochemistry and tutored you in Physics. He would try not to laugh as you traced his skin, naming the muscles, bones, and systems as you reviewed for anatomy. Care packages showed up at your apartment when you spent as much time as you could getting clinical hours, volunteering in a research lab, and studying for the MCAT. Jake knew how important getting your CV ready was and tried not to complain too much when your weekends spent together were mainly catching up on chores or sleep.

Senior year, you were offered a spot at Florida State University College of Medicine. Jake had been notified in his junior year that he had been accepted into the flight program.

After graduation, you and Jake packed up your things and drove to Florida together. He had a few weeks until he had to report to Pensacola, just a 3-hour drive down I-10 from where you would be in Tallahassee. The apartment you got was right across the street from the med school, a small one-bedroom, but you knew you wouldn’t spend much time there anyway. It would be a place to eat and sleep, but most of your time would be spent on campus or driving to Jake’s in Pensacola. He would only be there for a few months until transitioning to the next base, and you wanted to spend as much time together as possible. 

Unlike other medical schools, FSU required students to start in the summer to complete the Anatomy course. Over the short term, students would complete a full-body dissection. The smell of formaldehyde became commonplace, and the TAs warned you to wear shoes and scrubs you wouldn’t hate to throw away in August. 

They were right. 

It was a rough transition to med school, but it was manageable. And you loved it. Your professors ensured you treated the cadavers with the utmost respect while gently encouraging competition by announcing a dissection team winning each week. The faculty brought you to a rural community to learn about rural medicine, sharing food and stories with those less fortunate. The physician assistant students joined on the trip, and you learned about an inter-professional day that you’d be expected to participate in later - role-playing a case with MD, PA, pharmacy, and social work students. 

And while you were working toward your dream, Jake was getting closer to his. Nights were spent catching up, and he was so excited to tell you about his flight training. He promised to get his civilian pilot license as soon as possible and rent a plane to take you up in the air. On the rare weekend you didn’t need to spend in the anatomy lab cramming for an exam, you drove to his place late Friday night and headed back to Tally on Sunday morning. 

In August, Jake requested time off to come and see you celebrate finishing your first semester. Seated in the audience, he watched as your faculty member helped you don your first white coat, and you recited the Hippocratic oath. The one-week vacation before Fall term started wasn’t long enough, but you enjoyed waking up in Jake’s bed and going to the beach.  

Joining the military had never been in your future, but the longer you spent around Jake and his friends, the more commissioning in the Navy seemed attractive. A medical officer recruiter spoke at the college, and you signed your paperwork. After spending a few weeks working in a clinic during the summer after the first year, you headed to Rhode Island to complete Officer Training. Jake called you as soon as you graduated, welcoming you into the service with only some light teasing about outranking you. As an Ensign, you would be forced to salute your Lieutenant boyfriend when you saw him. 

It was harder to see each other when he graduated from flight school and was stationed in California, but you managed to get by with phone calls and vacations. Toward the end of your second year, Jake was sent on deployment as you studied for the Step 1 exam - testing your foundational knowledge and one of the most intimidating exams you faced. The school gave you dedicated study time, and you took advantage of his offer to study at his apartment in Lemoore. His buddy, Coyote, met you at the airport and drove you to Jake’s apartment. A bouquet of flowers was sitting on the counter, and you stared at them as you mentally ran through Anki decks to quiz yourself.  

Jake came home the last week you were there. Fully recovered from the 8-hour exam, you greeted him with all the other family members on the flight line. It was the first time you saw him in his jet, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated the sight. But too soon, you had to return to Florida and pack up your apartment in Tally to move to Pensacola for your last two years of medical school. On your last night in Lemoore, Jake took you out dancing and promised he would request leave to visit soon. 

Between your rotations and his shitty schedule as a junior officer, it was hard to see one another. At the end of your third year, you hit a rocky spot and talked about breaking up. But cooler heads prevailed, and you promised to do your best to match into a residency near him. He agreed to try and get orders to be closer to you once you graduated. 

Jake had been your first call on December 15th. Sobbing, you told him you’d join him in San Diego, where he’d been stationed for the last four months. 

The last-minute plane tickets had been expensive, but it had been so worth it to spend Christmas with him, making plans to move your stuff across the country, and finally be together. He’d held your hand as you pulled your name from the NBME Match Database, officially alerting the civilian hospitals you’d interviewed at that you were no longer hoping to match with them. 

So, while your friends waited anxiously to open their envelopes, you felt a sense of calm. In nine short weeks, you would be back in this auditorium wearing your dress whites under your cap and gown. After getting your diploma, your new orders would be published, and you would be promoted to Lieutenant. And after? Jake was scheduled to return from a deployment in a month and requested leave to help you pack up your apartment and start the cross-country road trip. 

Eight years of hard work would culminate in moving in with the man you loved. Who could support you in person as you went through the hell of residency and got used to being a full-time Naval officer. 

The Dean crossed the stage and welcomed everyone. As the clock struck noon, she encouraged everyone to open their envelopes.

Tearing it open, you stared at the words confirming your future - Emergency Medicine, Naval Medical Center San Diego. 

Jake.

Cheers broke out, and you turned to hug your friends as they screamed with happiness or smiled to hide disappointment on not getting their top choice. 

The ceremony began with each regional campus called up to allow the students to announce their match.

You hadn’t planned on going on stage. The trip back to Tally had only been to see your favorite staff members and to support your friends as they found out where they would be moving. They had brought their family members, partners, and kids to share in the moment. You had come alone, preferring your family to go to graduation instead. But your friends dragged you into the line and handed your name card to the smiling staff. 

“Hi,” you said, leaning into the microphone after the Regional Campus Dean introduced you. “I just wanted to say thank you to all of my friends and family. Without you, I wouldn’t have made it through all of this. I matched in Emergency Medicine and will be moving across country to be with my boyfriend, who kept me sane throughout all of this. And I’ll be at Naval Medical Center San Diego

The crowd cheered louder than they had for any of your classmates. Blushing, you lifted your hand and waved, stepping back and quickly walking toward the Campus Dean to shake his hand. But as you neared, he smiled and took a step back.

You froze.

Jake grinned. 

Wearing his dress whites, he quickly strode toward you, pulling you into his arms. “What are you doing here?” you demanded, blinking away tears. 

“Wasn’t gonna miss your Match Day, darlin’,” he replied.

“You’re supposed to be on the carrier!” 

“Might have lied about that.” There wasn’t a trace of regret on his face. “You worked so hard for this, and I wanted to surprise you. My beautiful, smart, adrenaline junky doctor girlfriend.”

“Not yet - won’t be a doctor for another few weeks.” 

“You’ve got it in the bag. But I figured since you’re already trading in a couple of ranks - med student and Ensign…” Taking your left hand, he reached into his pocket and lowered himself to one knee. 

Vaguely, you heard the crowd get louder, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Jake as he held out a diamond ring. 

“I thought maybe we could change girlfriend to wife. Will you marry me?” 

Unable to speak, you nodded quickly. Jake leapt to his feet and kissed you, smiling against your mouth. 

The next few minutes were a blur. You hugged the Deans while Jake shook their hands, and your parents met you off stage - Jake had called to let them in on his plan. His parents texted him after watching the proposal on the school’s livestream. After promising to meet up after the ceremony, Jake joined you in the student section while your parents returned to their seats. Your friends hugged you, whispering excitedly as you showed them your engagement ring. 

And later, after a celebratory dinner with your family and drinks at the beer garden with your classmates, you tumbled into bed with Jake. You could taste the beer on his tongue as he licked into your mouth, and you grinned when your ring caught the light and shimmered.

“Lieutenant and Lieutenant Seresin,” Jake chuckled, catching your hand and kissing your ring. “Sounds kinda nice.” 

“Mmmm,” you hummed. “My diploma will be issued in two months, Seresin. Then I’m applying for my medical license and getting all my onboarding paperwork done for NMCSD. I might have to go by my last name for a bit… but I kinda like how it sounds with Lieutenant…”

 ��It does sound nice,” he agreed. “You sayin’ I’ve got 2 months to get it official, or are you telling me you wanna keep your last name?” 

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “I’ve spent the last four years thinking I’d practice under my own name.”

“How do you feel about hyphenating?” 

Your eyebrows shot up, “You’d be okay with that?” 

“Darlin', you did the hard work, and it’s your name. As long as I can call you Doctor Seresin at home, I don’t care.”

In the middle of May, you stood at attention on stage in your whites, having quickly changed out of your cap and gown. The medical recruiter, a local chief petty officer, had been called onto the stage to publish your orders. Forcing yourself not to smile, you pressed your lips together as he read out your name — your new, hyphenated last name and all. 

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

Notes: I used to work in a medical school, and went through three years of working on Match Day. It was one of my favorite events because of the level of excitement. (And yes, we did have a proposal one year.) But it can also be a really hard day - as state above, the number of residency spots is lower than the number of people who graduate. Every year, people go through the SOAP process and don't match. Which means they have to find something to do for a year, and then start the process over again.

Definitely didn't plan on writing this - I think in about an hour? - but I watched a class I worked with Match today and it kicked up a lot of feelings. I had the pleasure of watching young students grow into doctors, and play some small part in that.

As always, thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for encouraging me to write this, and for giving feedback.

[obislittleone]

Don’t Blame Me

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: i am so tired and everyone hates me but hey at least i still have dbf joel

Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, some smut, probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am… again

This one is awkward ngl

Decided on the song ‘Don’t blame me’ by taylor swift bc I’m a swiftie and what else was i supposed to put?

MASTERLIST

reader is like 21/22, joel is 37

“Here, you grab that end,” you gave his shoulder a light shove, nodding towards the end of the beam as you sunk down by the other. “You shouldn’t overdo it, you might feel sick again.”

“M’ stronger than I look,” he mumbled, and you scoffed.

“Trust me, I know…” you ignored his waves of dismissal, and began lifting from one side. “But you need to take it easy. Save your energy.”

The temp job was easy, mostly because Joel did most of the heavy lifting. It had been all fun and games for the first week, standing by him and watching him work, handing him the specific tools when he asked. Seemed like a dream job in most aspects, getting to sit and look pretty while the man you’re sneaking around with gets all hot and sweaty, his arms a bulging mass of muscle under the short sleeves of his dark t-shirt. 

He would often smirk when he sensed you were taking him in, admiring the view from where the toolbox was sitting. He would tease you relentlessly for it, of course, as is his way… but it didn’t stop your glances and forbidden stares. 

A whole week it had been this way, and you were more than happy to keep the flow of things going, but unfortunately on Sunday night, Joel got sick. 

It was just a fever, nothing he couldn’t sleep off in a few days. He’d called you on Monday morning before he even called anyone else at the site. They all wished him well and sent their little ‘get better soon’ messages thereafter, while you offered to drop by later with some ‘sick day’ supplies. He told you he didn’t want you catching whatever he had, and you understood that if you were sick, too, the odds of seeing each other would get lower. 

Week number two, the first several days of which were spent without Joel, and doing far too much heavy lifting of your own. There was another woman working with you all, and they supposed that two of you could make up for one Joel. You didn’t even realize how truly strong he was until you had to carry the weight he normally did. Even with another person, it was tiring and straining, and downright gruesome on your muscles. You’d been sore every night you went home. 

As soon as Joel came back, you’d have to remember to help him out a bit more, because there’s no way he enjoys not being assisted. He always insists you don’t have to, but you’ve learned how hard it is, so you want to. 

Thursday, Joel’s first day back at work, not feeling completely himself, but better enough to come into work and make some progress. 

You paid mind when he bent down to lift a heavy beam that should have taken two men to carry. 

“Here, you grab that end,” you gave his shoulder a light shove, nodding towards the end of the beam as you sunk down by the other. “You shouldn’t overdo it, you might feel sick again.”

“M’ stronger than I look,” he mumbled, and you scoffed.

“Trust me, I know…” you ignored his waves of dismissal, and began lifting from one side. “But you need to take it easy. Save your energy.”

He gave you a look, narrow eyes and furrowed brows, “Save it for what?”

You shrugged, beginning to walk backwards once he had his part lifted high enough to move the beam. You looked over your shoulder a few times to make sure you weren’t gonna crash into anything. 

“Just don’t want you to keep gettin’ sick. Been missin’ you,” you admitted, waiting for his reaction. He’d been feeling the same way, you knew. He’d sent you texts after you got home from work everyday to tell you so. 

“Missed you too, baby,” he set down his end once you both reached the correct spot on the interior, kicking it into place by the rest of the framework. 

You smiled sweetly at him, continuing the work as if nothing happened. As if your heart didn’t skip a beat from hearing those words in person, in his voice, dripping with the Texan drawl you were so fond of. It was comforting, it was familiar, and it gave you a sense of security. 

-

By the time Monday rolled around again, the framework had been completed and the electrical and plumbing started to take place. This was less of Joel’s and your dad’s specialty, but they still always showed up to oversee everything being done on time and to the company’s standards. 

This, of course, meant that you were nearly obsolete, and didn’t need to show up for the next few days. Now that you were the one being barred from doing any work, you had to come up with other excuses to drop by Joel’s after he came home from work. 

‘You left your jacket on our couch, and I wanted you to have it back before it gets cold out.’ 

Or 

‘My dad made a really good four cheese lasagna, I brought you some to try.’

It was always so much harder to figure out a time or place to meet up, since he and your dad worked together, and Sarah was almost always at the house after school. 

He knew you were going stir crazy, and even though he’d been tired and worn, he knew he had to see you… alone.

You were in the kitchen rinsing out your cereal bowl when your phone buzzed on the counter top. 

Sarah’s going over with a friend to spend the night, I’m on my way home right now.

Is that an invitation?

Damn right it is.

You smiled wide, not even bothering to do anything else with the bowl in your hand. You dropped it in the sink and went galavanting about your house and up to your room. Your dad would probably be getting home about the same time as Joel, maybe a bit later, but you figured you should wait to see him before you leave for the night. You’d feel even more guilty if you just shot him a text and left for his best friend’s place, right next door for the night. 

You got wrapped up in a sweatshirt and some jogging shorts, grabbing your backpack and phone charger, swinging around the doorway and back down the stairs. 

As luck would have it, the sound of keys in the door caught you just as you reached the bottom. You dad pushed through the door, his yawn of exhaustion clearly evident. He hooked the keys on the wall hanger beside him, then turned to see you, pulling the straps of your bag up your arms. 

“Hey there, lovebug,” he smiled, taking a few steps up to hug you around the neck and peck the top of your head. “Where are you off to?” 

You thought for only a split second before forming a story. 

“Nowhere in particular… just got invited by some friends to drive around and get some fast food.” 

Very convincing, and he laughed, shaking his head. 

“Kids these days, I’ll tell ya… back n’ my day we used to go to movies or walk around a mall. Used to do actual activities n’ things.” 

You rolled your eyes, letting him rant on about the ‘strange ways’ of your generation.

“Well, we aren’t kids, but we are easily entertained. I’ll see you later, though.”

You gave him a pat on his shoulder and a quick kiss to his cheek before heading out the door. Right before it shut, you could hear your dad fumbling around in the kitchen. He would probably be distracted for a while. 

Your face turned giddy as soon as you looked over to see Joel’s truck had been parked. You tried to look as nonchalant as possible, walking plainly over to the house next door, just in case there were any neighbors looking through an open window. You had no qualms about being near or with Joel, but you did have a problem with outside people making it their topic of conversation in the neighborhood gossip chain.

You got up to the door, and knocked, the door opening within maybe five seconds or less. The response time was near immediate, and you wondered if he’d been sitting in his chair near the door. 

“Hi there, I’m here to tell you about our lord and savior Jesus Christ,” you said seriously when he leaned into the doorframe, only breaking your facade when he stood there, unamused. You let out a giggle and at the noise he dropped his hard exterior.

He rolled his eyes and nodded inside before stepping back enough to allow you entrance.

“How was work?” You asked, dropping your backpack on the chair and waiting for him to close the door. 

“S’ alright. Mostly just a long and boring day with nothing pretty to see.”

“I’m sure my absence had nothing to do with that,” you remarked sarcastically, letting him take the last few steps to meet you. He looked so tired, and yet, completely awake just at the sight of you. 

“No, nothing at all.”

He took you into his arms and leaned down by your ear, whispering the last part of his words to you. It had been several days since you could stand like this, out of sight of others, their prying eyes all but away to witness the way he held you and squeezed you tightly. 

He smelled of sweat and concrete powder, which, though wasn’t a horribly unpleasant smell, you felt it couldn’t be comfortable to have it all over one's body. 

“Why don’t you head up to the shower and I’ll order a pizza?” You suggested, pulling back to see his worn out face, feeling the deep inhale of his breath by his chest. He let it out with a hunch of his shoulders as he replied. 

“I got food here, I can cook up sum’ quick-”

“Joel you’re exhausted, and besides… I got dominoes rewards,” you joked, pressing up to kiss the tip of his nose. There was no room for protest after that, and he nodded in agreement before pulling away to head upstairs. 

He had half a mind to ask you to join him, but having not crossed that line before, he didn’t really know what was on and what was off of the table. He shook the thought from his mind, going into his bathroom and starting the water. 

The domesticity was intoxicating. Hugging you after he got home from a long work day, of which he missed seeing your face. Seeing your smile and hearing your laugh and all the little gestures you make that you don’t even realize you’re doing. Sending him upstairs to get cleaned up only so he can come back down to you and eat pizza on the couch together. He hated how much he loved it, relaxed into it, even.

It’s almost too good to be true… and maybe it is. Because while you fit him perfectly, and while you both can pick up without missing a beat, you’re still the kid next door. His best friend’s daughter, and someone he should absolutely not be doing anything stupid with. That’s exactly what this was, wasn’t it? Stupidity. There’s no way this relationship ends well. Whether your dad comes around, or Sarah does, or the entire town for that matter. Whether or not his reputation is ruined, or yours. Nothing good can come from sneaking around, the quiet embraces or the late night stolen kisses. But you can’t stop, and neither can he.

He gets into the shower with a clear mind. Whatever happens, I have her for right now. 

-

You paid for the pizza and carried it inside, kicking the door shut as you balanced it along with the sides and sauces all in your arms. Joel had gotten out of his shower a few minutes ago, and was probably getting dried off and changed, so it was perfect timing that you had everything set out on the countertop when he came trotting down the stairs. 

“Hey, I got you some wings,” you told him, pointing to the box labeled ‘hot buffalo’ across from where you sat on the barstool. You’d been dipping a breadstick in marinara when he walked around you, kissing the side of your head before sitting down beside you. 

“Thank you,” he spoke gratefully, his hands already reaching for the box, moving the pizza to the side for a moment. You knew what he liked, a testament of the time you’d known him for. “So what’ve you been up to? Now that you’ve had a break from work?” 

“I wouldn’t call what I do actual work,” you snorted, but paused and tilted your head, recalling the day’s events. “I cleaned up ‘round the house, went to get some groceries for my dad, came home n’ watched some tv n’ had half a bowl of cereal.”

“Sounds eventful,” he mocked, and you gave him a nudge with your elbow. He chuckled, taking a bite of a chicken wing. 

“Haven’t really had anything else to do,” you shrugged, grabbing a pizza slice and dragging it out of the box, carefully pulling the cheese so it didn’t flop all over the counter top. “Not that I’m complainin’, though. Rather have time on my hands than be too busy.”

He understood that. It seemed like all he ever did was work nowadays. It was the same cycle, over and again. Wake up at six in the morning, eat breakfast with Sarah, drop her off at school, and get back to the grind. Framing, insulating, installing, furnishing, repeat. All day, every day. Come home late to dinner with Sarah and sometimes watch a movie before bed. It’s all he ever does, and though it’s consistent, and it’s familiar, he aches for the additional warmth you bring. It’s why he called you over that first night in the bar. He hadn’t expected to see you back, and moreover, he didn’t expect you to seem so grown up. 

He swears up and down that if you hadn’t been there that night, practically taunting him during that line dance, that this would have never happened. You both would have gone on to live alongside one another, but separately, just as you always have. 

The conversation continued, slowly, with no pressure of any answer from either side. It was easy, natural. Joel didn’t like talking when he didn’t have to, and although it was different around you, he still kept his words to a few. 

Once the pizza was eaten, the trash was discarded, and you’d move to the sink to get some of the grease off your hands. 

“Y’know, we’re gonna be startin’ on interior installations soon, you might be able to come back and work on some stuff with me, if you still want to.”

You were excited at the thought of his words. Getting to watch Joel Miller lift heavy things like countertops and cabinets? And all the while, getting to watch from a now insulated house? That was even better. 

“Well, I’ll obviously have to check my schedule. You know how busy I can be,” you joked, drying your hands on a paper towel from beside the sink. You turned around to throw it away but got caught between Joel and the counter, his arms coming down on either side. 

“You tease me far too much, y’know that?” He lowered his head to meet your eyeline and you took a sharp intake of breath. 

“Only because it’s far too much fun.”

He shook his head, getting close enough to close the gap and kiss you. First just short and sweet, then after a second glance, faster, and more motivated. Your hands found a place on his cheeks right away, holding him close to you while he kissed you deeper, his tongue finding its way between your lips. His hands went from beside you to under your thighs, picking you up as if you weighed nothing, and setting you down onto the edge of the counter by the sink. With your legs open, you pulled him into your body, not even realizing how roughly you’d done so. 

“Damn baby, you’re gettin’ real strong,” he chuckled, burying his face into your neck to kiss and suck marks there. Consequences and aftermath be damned, he wouldn’t stop.

“Must be from all the heavy liftin’ last week… pickin’ up your slack.”

He bit down harsher into your skin, and you moaned out a noise akin to pain and pleasure. 

“Keep talkin’ baby, I’ll show you real slack.” 

“Only gonna make me stronger,” you whispered against the side of his head, a smirk resting on your face, even in the position you were sitting. He had all the power, but you still had your little quips.

His hands at the bottom of your sweatshirt were hesitant. He talked confidently, without pause or conviction, but the truth of the matter would always remain that he was going to be hesitant with you. You’re the forbidden fruit, the thing he wasn’t supposed to touch, and yet… here he stands, his hands under your hoodie and lips thoroughly attached to the crook of your neck and shoulder. 

“Fuck it,” he let out, dragging the hem of your clothing upwards until you raised your arms for it to come off. Where it landed, you’d have no idea. You just know that in this moment, with his hands on your bare skin, you couldn’t care less if you ever saw it again. 

You’d not really paid mind to what you wore underneath it, an old red and gray tie-dye sports bra now the only thing to adorn the top of your body. He didn’t care in the slightest, far too happy to even see you in that.

He quickly moved you from the counter into his arms, journeying through the kitchen and again to the living room, just like last time… except instead of sitting down, letting you remain on his lap, he laid you back into the cushioned area, crawling over you to hover back where he had been before. 

You didn’t think it was fair to let him take off clothing while remaining fully clothed. 

“My turn,” you pushed him back, ripping at his t-shirt to try and rid him of it. It was a fresh shirt, probably just came out of the dryer last night, but you tossed it to the ground without a second thought. 

You don’t recall seeing Joel shirtless. You remember that one time at the water park after graduation, when he wore a pair of trucks, and a sun shirt. Whether it was because he was afraid of getting sunburned, or because he was self conscious, you would never know. From what you could see, you couldn’t possibly imagine it being the latter. He wasn’t ripped, or even overly toned for that matter. He had a sculpted softness about him that was completely beautiful. He doesn’t work out, but he definitely works. His arms are full and muscular from the heavy lifting, and his shoulders are naturally broad, defined by the bulk he’s put on over the years. 

You don’t know if you’ve ever seen a body like his. The boys that have pursued you at college have always been either overly scrawny, or beef cakes. They want to be the hottest thing around. Want to be desired by every girl that walks past them, just so they can feed their ego and feel better about themselves ten years from now. Joel isn’t like that. He’s got a cocky attitude about himself, but it’s more in his teasing and snarky demeanor towards you than anything else. He’s sarcastic, and cynical, but he’s not doing it for show. 

He’s old enough to realize he doesn’t have to impress anyone, because the right person will want him regardless, and you do.

You want him because he’s Joel Miller, not some body builder, or football player, or gym rat that stalks the hallways of your dorms. 

You want him for his strong arms, tan lines right where his shirts normally end. You want him for his wide shoulders, even with the little scratches from bumping into wooden framing all day. You want him for the patchy beard on his face, knowing he only keeps it because he’s far too busy, and nearly always too tired to keep up with the clean shaven look. You want him for his dark curls, graying more every day and turning the color silver when he stands in the sun. You want him for his big hands, with the calluses and rough palms, but with the softest and most gentle fingertips you’ve ever felt on your face. You want him for the softness of his stomach, though seen as a flaw by most of society, you’d much prefer it to the discomfort of a stomach toned with abs. You want him for every bit of himself. You want him because he’s perfect.

He stripped your shorts and underwear from you at once, and it amazed you how adeptly he did it. He’s been doing this for years, he knows what he’s doing, stupid.

“You alright?” He looked back at you, his eyes glazed over completely. The darkness that was there was the same lustfull darkness you’d seen before, and you anticipated what may come from it. 

“Yeah,” you smiled, watching him sink backwards and down your body. He parted your legs in a swift motion, unwilling to slow himself down on account of being so close to what he wants. “You don’t have to-”

“Shh, baby,” he pulled your hips upward and towards his face, admiring the slickness already resting between your legs before he lowered his mouth to taste it. It was so addicting, the smell of you, and he knew the second his tongue ran a long stripe up and down, he would be craving you constantly. Always on the verge of wanting you from now on. 

The noises you made, lordy, he didn’t know someone could sound like that. The very fact that you were unashamed to hide it from him, too. He loves it, how vocal you are, and how much you want him to know how he makes you feel. 

He held one finger to your entrance, coating it in your slick before plunging it deep inside of you, the curl of his knuckle making you writhe under him. He added another finger to see if you could take it. You were so tight already, and he knew that if you weren’t stretched out enough he would hurt you. 

Two fingers wasn’t necessarily painful, but it caused a bit of discomfort at first. You didn’t expect that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but you tried to relax anyway. You wanted him so badly, wanted him entirely, and didn’t want this to put a damper on anything. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. Just like that,” he praised, trying to help you open up more with the added pressure of his thumb on your clit. The gentle circles helped you to feel less of a stretch, and the pleasure was building. You wove your hands into his hair, trying to feel a tether of reality somewhere. He kept on, and went faster, and you felt yourself at a breaking point. 

With his name on your lips, you broke apart, releasing all the tension left in your body to allow that euphoric rush to consume you. It caused your body to tremble under his, but you paid no mind to it. Once he retrieved his fingers from you, he held them up to his mouth, licking the sweetness from them that you so generously bestowed upon him. 

You tried to sit up, to reach for his belt buckle, but he stopped you. 

“Not tonight, baby,” he grabbed your hands and kissed them, the slightest bit of residue remaining on his lips. 

“But I want to.”

“I know you do,” he smiled, brushing your hair aside to kiss you now, instead. “I just don’t wanna hurt you. Let’s work towards it, okay?” 

You nodded, a bit embarrassed that you weren’t quite experienced enough to continue yet. Not to say you were inexperienced, but you definitely weren’t ready to take him yet, and he knew that for sure. The last thing he’d want to do is go too far and make it unpleasant for you. 

He’s a good man, with good intentions. Even if this relationship - whatever you want to call it - is forbidden, he’s still trying to do right by you. It’s unspoken, but you’re his girl now, and he would never hurt his girl.

.

tags: @justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee @anoverwhelmingdin @theatrelove3000

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 64

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Monday, March 1; 6:15 AM - Alexia and Ona's Room

Returning to my roots stings throughout my entire system. I'm exhausted. My first night away from Lucy's arms was a disaster. Needless to say, I didn't get a wink of sleep. Now she's doing her usual rounds around our beds while I yawn so wide it feels like my jaw might unhinge.

"Rough night, Batlle?" she teases kindly.

I groan pitifully, causing my friends to chuckle. She stops in front of me, scanning me from head to toe, checking my outfit before pulling me into her arms. A sigh of relief escapes me instantly. I bury my nose in her neck, inhaling her scent deeply to ensure I remember it. When I finally lift my head, she lingers on my face. One might think she's scrutinizing my barely-there makeup, but it's probably my dark circles she's focused on. Then she kisses me properly, making Alexia clear her throat after a moment.

"We should get going."

"Yep," Lucy exhales. "Go on, off you go," she says.

I head for the door, following my roommate.

"And Ona," she calls as I reach the threshold.

"Yes?"

"Don't forget your evening classes. Time to get back into the groove."

I smile and nod. We spent yesterday reviewing my classes and finishing the last bits of homework I had left. I'd already done most of them during the evening classes before the break so I wouldn't be bothered during the two-week vacation. It was a good way to get back on track.

"I don’t plan on missing them. Have a good day, Commander."

A smug smile stretches across her lips as I leave the room. I catch up to Alexia, who had gone ahead. She smiles when I reach her.

"Looks like things are going well, huh?"

"Better, yes, but it could still be better without this decision hanging over me."

"Has she changed her mind?"

"Yes and no. She explained the reasons behind her choice," I reply, shrugging. "We'll see. First, I plan to negotiate at my next meeting. Then, I’ll send a few requests to other galleries, and we'll see."

"That's already something. I hope everything goes well."

"Absolutely!"

We step outside, where most of our friends are waiting. My eyes fall on Alessia, reminding me of yesterday’s anxiety. She and her sister know about Lucy. I don’t expect them to tell anyone, but it's still a situation that could make things awkward. We greet everyone before heading to the cafeteria. Good habits really are coming back.

"Your sister’s not here?" I ask Ale.

"Well, turns out she’s got a girlfriend now."

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Yeah, apparently she's here, at school, so I assume she's with her."

"Wasn't she a bit difficult because you were away for two weeks?"

"Nope. Seems like having a girlfriend has its perks. I plan to find out who she is just to thank her."

I laugh. I'm curious too. With everything that happened before the break, I hadn’t noticed her getting close to anyone in particular.

"We’ll do our investigation if you want," I tease.

"Oh, for sure! If she thinks she’s going to keep her in the shadows, she's dreaming."

"And you’re the one saying that?" I tease again.

"My case is different."

"Of course," I mock. "Still, it’s time for her to introduce her at least once."

"Yeah, yeah. Soon, since the year is almost over, and I plan to move in with Jenni after school."

Seems I’m not the only one thinking about the "after school" period. I hope she tells her soon because I have a feeling this situation might backfire given how Alba is. We reach the cafeteria. Once we’re served, we sit at our usual table. From where I am, I can see Lucy join her side with Ingrid. I don’t linger, though, afraid I won’t be able to look away from her. The others start recounting their fantastic vacations. I turn to Alessia, who’s sitting next to me. Best to address the elephant in the room right away.

"How were your holidays?" I ask her.

"Pretty good," she admits. "And yours?"

She’s calm. A bit too calm, and probably a little embarrassed too. Lucy did make a point of kissing me in front of her to stake her claim the day they caught us together. I still don’t know if Alessia saw that. All I know is that Lucy marked me with a huge hickey on my neck again last night, just to be sure. My friends haven’t seen it yet since I’ve kept my scarf on, and I plan to keep it that way for a while.

"Good as well," I reply with a small smile.

"Is your girlfriend planning to keep an eye on me from now on?" she retorts, without much emotion.

I glance over at Lucy and see that, indeed, she’s sneaking looks at us between sentences with Ingrid. I bite my lip to suppress a smile. She’s impossible. Yesterday's lecture about jealousy clearly wasn’t enough for her. Maybe it’s time I tell her how much I love her to get her to relax.

"I'll talk to her. Don’t worry."

"Have you seen the hickey she gave her?" Alexia teases mockingly.

"Stop," I groan, unconsciously covering my neck with my hand. "It was the only way to leave without a ten-hour lecture."

Alessia and Alexia laugh at my expense, making me blush even more. To be honest, I like Lucy’s jealousy, but I’d never admit that to them. After our cold moment, she simply reminded me that she loves me no matter what. She knows how to reassure me.

"Did someone say hickey?" 

We turn toward the voice we all recognize. Alba stands behind me with her tray in hand. I smile softly at her. I’ve missed her, actually. I didn’t expect to get so attached to her personality, but I have. She’s genuinely a good person deep down.

"Mind if we join you?"

It’s only then that I notice someone standing behind her. It’s Misa, and judging by the look she gives me, there’s no doubt she’s the girlfriend Ale mentioned. She never hung out with us much, but it happened occasionally. All I remember about her is that she wasn’t very friendly. Her choice surprises me, but after all, I don’t know her well enough to judge their relationship. The question was mostly for show, as they sit down at the end of our table. I exchange a look with Ale, who doesn’t seem thrilled with what she’s seeing. She’s understood the situation just like I have, but I know from previous conversations that she doesn’t like Misa much either. Neither of us knows how to place her.

"So, what’s this about a hickey? Who’s the victim?" Alba asks again.

"Ona," Alessia replies. "Apparently, from her girlfriend."

"Really?" she asks, surprised. "You’re with someone?"

I run my hand through my hair, feeling awkward. I didn’t want this to spread around the table. I feel like Alessia is challenging me, which is irritating. But if Lucy gave me a hickey, it’s because she wants people to know I’m taken, right? After that little internal debate, I nod.

"Uh, yeah. I’ve been dating someone for a little while," I admit.

"Wow, didn’t see that coming," she smiles. "That’s cool! Is she from here? Do we know her?"

"Alba, that's none of your business," Alexia cuts in. "And you? When were you going to tell me you were dating Misa?"

I'm relieved by her intervention. It gives me time to breathe, and she knows why. I can’t afford to reveal Lucy’s identity.

"If I’d waited as long as you to admit I was seeing someone, I wouldn’t have told you until next year," she retorts proudly.

- "What nonsense," she muttered, rolling her eyes before glancing at me.

I stifled a small laugh. I gave her a sympathetic smile, but in reality, her sister wasn't wrong.

- "So, are we not allowed any juicy details?" Alba returned to the original topic.

Of course, she was back to me. Unfortunately, I hadn't had time to think. I just shrugged. I would like to share with them, but I know I can't reveal everything.

- "She's a girl. A few years older than me, and well, that's it. We've only been together for a few weeks."

Only a few weeks. Now that I say it, it feels like we've been together for months. I'm already eager to reach our first month. Unfortunately, that's in a few days, and we'll still be here. I'm trying to stay positive, reminding myself that we'll be in Barcelona this weekend. At least I’ll have the advantage of being on my home turf. I can plan something for her at a place she doesn’t know, with Mapi as my accomplice.

- "So, you're into girls too?" Misa asked.

I leaned to see her as she was sitting just next to Alessia. She kept eating while glancing at me. Surprisingly, she smiled. Now that she knew she had nothing to worry about with Alba, maybe she’d behave differently.

- "Indeed" I replied, without going into detail.

- "And this girl," Alba asked again, "does she treat you well at least?"

Alexia rolled her eyes again, making me suppress a laugh. Honestly, they should have stayed away from each other if they were going to act like this in each other's presence.

- "Absolutely. She's amazing, even if sometimes she struggles to grasp that she's the only one who matters to me."

I punctuated my words by showing off the huge purple, almost black, hickey on my neck. She had pinned me down against the mattress, leaving me no means to defend myself. My friends gasped in disbelief, making me chuckle slightly.

- "Damn, seeing it again now, I realize she didn’t hold back at all," Ale teased as I quickly covered the evidence. "Think I can tease her about it?"

- "You? Tease her?" I raised an eyebrow. "I’d love to see that," I mocked.

- "Oh, shut up," she mumbled.

- "Wait, you know her?" Alba asked, surprised.

- "Yeah. Who do you think I spent my vacation with?"

- "Any particular reason she marked you like that?" Alessia asked, trying to prevent a sibling argument.

- "I don't know," I admitted, shrugging. "Jealousy, I guess. She knows a bit about my friends... I mean, I tell her about them a lot, so she probably feels threatened," I quickly corrected myself.

- "I wonder why. You practically devour her with your eyes. You'd have to be blind not to notice," Ale commented.

I hid my blush behind my mug of hot chocolate. I knew how true her words were. I just hoped it wouldn't be too obvious here at school. Even though there were only two months left and Lucy had said she didn’t care if she got expelled, I wasn’t on the same page. I wanted her with me until the end, so I hoped we could stay discreet. It had been a while, so I glanced over at her table. I was disappointed to find it empty. I looked quickly toward the line where people were clearing their trays, but I had to admit the truth: she was already gone. Clearly, I was already missing her, judging by the pang I felt at this realization. This day was going to feel longer than I’d like to admit.

Monday, March 1st; 5:15 PM - Lucy and Ingrid's Office.

I tried not to seem too eager when I headed to Lucy's office. First, I had to be patient while Alessia talked to me after class, and then I had to weave through the students in the hallway. If it were up to me, I would have sprinted from class the moment the bell rang. But sadly, that only happens in movies. So here I was, standing in front of her office door, which was wide open. I tapped on the wood to announce my presence before stepping inside. I didn’t wait for permission anymore—I felt at home here after having come so often. I was greeted by an empty desk on the left and Lucy behind the one on the right. We were alone. Perfect.

- "Hello," I said cheerfully.

- "Close the door," she ordered without taking her eyes off the screen.

I was already almost at her desk when she gave the command. Oh, she didn't seem to be in a good mood. I turned back to obey without complaint. A few months ago, I would have already retorted for her to do it herself. But now, I sensed this wasn’t the moment. I hoped everything would be fine. I had missed her so much today, and I didn’t want to spend the little time we had together in a bad mood.

- "You're late," she noted, as if it needed pointing out.

- "Did you miss me?"

I tried to joke to lighten her mood. To my surprise, she stood up abruptly to face me.

- "Hell, yes."

Before I could react, she spun me around and pressed me against her desk. Her slightly cold hands slid under my already open jacket. I smiled against her lips as she took them without asking. She grabbed my thighs firmly, lifting me onto the desk. I welcomed her between my legs, running my hand through her hair. For someone who wanted to keep our two relationships separate, we were far from her long speeches.

- "Take off that scarf," she growled, tugging at it.

I laughed harder as I unwrapped it before she could strangle me with it.

- "You like seeing your marks on me? I got so many comments because of you."

- "Really? I didn’t see you take it off today."

I raised an amused eyebrow. So she was watching me. Good to know. To be fair, I wasn’t any better, but now I understood why I kept running into her in the hallways.

- "You did it on purpose, didn’t you?"

- "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

I laughed, wrapping my arms around her neck. She smiled mischievously in return.

- "Well, just so you know, my friends know I’m taken. I talked to Alba this morning, and the others figured it out. They teased me all through lunch trying to figure out who you are. I said you weren’t from the school, but they think I’m lying."

- "Why would they think I’m from here?"

- "No idea. They think I don’t have a life outside of school."

"Well, aside from Mapi, you don’t see many people from your old life," she reminded me. "They’re not wrong, really. »

- "Well, it's easy to meet people nowadays. There are social media or even dating apps."

- "As if that’s your thing... It isn’t, right? Maybe I should take your phone away…"

- "Hey! No way, you idiot. As if I’d do something like that."

I roll my eyes before she kisses me again. I’ve missed her lips. It’s hard to go from two weeks straight together to a sudden cut. I’ll be happy when we no longer have to deal with the constraints of school.

- "Did Alessia say anything?"

- "No. She thinks you’re very... How do I put it? Vampiric. Or something like that. I don’t think she expected you to devour my neck."

She laughs and kisses the mark. I checked it in the mirror again during lunch and realized it’ll probably stick around for a few more days. She then steps back from between my legs, signaling that our little break is over. I hop off the desk, landing on my feet.

- "As long as she doesn’t hover around you anymore, I don’t care what she calls me."

- "Oh please, like she’d even try to go up against you. It’s a good thing she knows now."

- "Hmm... Alright, get your stuff out so we can tackle your homework. How were your classes?"

- "Boring, as always," I sigh. "I’ll be glad when I finally graduate."

- "I get that, me too," she admits with a small smile. "But we’re not there yet. By the way, I talked to Wiegman about your interview."

- "Already?" I ask, surprised.

- "Yup. The sooner it’s settled, the better. That way, we can avoid unnecessary arguments."

- "What did she say?"

- "She’s giving you permission to go, since it’s after your time here. But she’ll have to inform your mom."

I shrug, indifferent. It’s not like my mom doesn’t already know I had an interview. She’ll figure it out soon enough.

- "Will you come with me?"

- "Of course, I’ll drive you," she smiles. "There are perks to still being your guardian. Now, you just need to call Mr. Fields to find out the date."

- "Yeah... Can we also check out other galleries?"

- "I’ve already done some research," she tells me. "I made a list and sent it to Beth. Since she’s more knowledgeable and knows their reputations, she promised to review them and let me know which ones are worth sending your resume to."

- "Thank you. You’re amazing," I reply sincerely.

- "It’s only natural," she says, linking our hands. "I’ve thought about it a lot, and I want to apologize again for making you think I wanted to push you away. That was never my intention."

- "I know, don’t worry," I smile softly. "Let’s wait to see what Fields says before getting ahead of ourselves. He might offer something else."

- "Don’t get your hopes up too much. He can have as many apprentices as he wants. If you say no, that might be it for him."

- "We’ll see," I say confidently. "He seemed really interested in my profile. Maybe he won’t want to let me go so easily."

- "Babe, seriously. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and be let down. I’ll be happy if he offers you something else, but it’s better not to expect too much."

I nod. She’s right. Ever since I got the positive response, I’ve been feeling confident, but I’m likely setting myself up for a fall. I sigh, sinking into my seat.

- "Shall we get to work?"

- "You’ll get to work," she replies with a small smile. "Try to do it on your own, and I’ll correct it. I’ve still got a lot of work to do since the break is over."

I groan as I pull out the management assignment from this morning. Our teacher didn’t go easy on us, and we’ve already been hit with five exercises under the pretext that we need to be ready for the big day.

- "It’s not as fun without you."

- "Oh, come on. I won’t be sitting next to you during the exams. This is the final stretch. You need to learn to handle it on your own now."

I sigh and pout but still get to work. In a few months, I’ll be sitting through the same kind of exercises, except it’ll be on an exam paper for four hours straight. For now, I have nothing to complain about. The stress is slowly creeping in. I know I won’t be fully prepared, especially in my main subjects. Let’s not forget I’m two years behind. And to top it off, I found out today that we actually have compressed courses. Murphy explained that due to the school’s structure, we’re missing a semester out of the usual three years. After quickly doing the math in my head, we only have three semesters instead of four in a given track. At least I understand now why we’re moving faster than normal. Fortunately, my teachers often revisit points that were covered in previous years during the course. Thanks to Lucy, I’ve started asking for help more often. While I think most of my exams are out of reach, Lucy believes in me. She says I might have some terrible grades, but I can still pass. That’s all the support I need. I’m determined to prove her right. I don’t care about having outstanding grades, just passing is enough. I’ll focus on excelling in the subjects I’m stronger in, like literature and languages. They won’t be the most heavily weighted, given the track I chose, but it’s better than nothing. Time passes, and I finally finish the exercises for my upcoming classes.

- "Can you check my work?" I ask my girlfriend.

- "Of course."

She pushes aside her pile of papers and grabs my assignments. She picks up a pencil and starts reading through them. I take advantage of the calm moment to admire her. She moves her long brown hair to the side, making her even more beautiful. I smile as she unintentionally reveals the mark I gave her. It’s much smaller now and a few days old. Our bubble bursts with a knock at the door, followed by its immediate opening to reveal my management teacher. His sudden presence reminds me that we’re never truly safe from being interrupted, even with the door closed.

- "Oh yes, I forgot about your evening classes," he murmurs. "Good evening, I hope I’m not disturbing you."

- "Not particularly," Lucy replies. "How can I help you?"

- "I was just following up on the field trip, but I can come back later if necessary."

Lucy leans back in her chair, crossing her legs, but she keeps my packet of assignments in her hand and removes her glasses—the ones that make her look so irresistible—with the other. She places them on the desk and massages the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again.

- "I’ve already told you, Ona isn’t a problem. What do you need?"

I can’t help but smile at her cold tone. He’s definitely getting on her nerves. I turn back to my teacher, who looks slightly flustered.

- "Well, I wanted to confirm that Miss Engen and you will be part of the teaching staff accompanying us."

- "Alright. Is that all?"

- "For now. I’ll let you know the date of the trip and which group you’ll be in charge of."

- "Hmm. If you’re organizing the groups, make sure Ona is in mine. Since I’m designated as her guardian until the end of the year, it’ll allow me to keep an eye on her."

I can’t help but laugh at that request. Thank goodness Wiegman put her in charge. We’re definitely taking advantage of it now. I thought I was being discreet, but Lucy must have heard me because she raises an eyebrow as she glances at me. I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing again. I love it when she plays the serious role like that.

- "Any objections?" she asks me.

- "None," my teacher responds.

It’s too much; I have to laugh again. He doesn’t even know who she’s addressing anymore. Lucy doesn’t miss the opportunity to remind him.

"I was talking to Ona. »

- "No problem, Bronze," I replied with as much seriousness as I could muster in that moment.

- "Good. Well, that's settled then. I'll be waiting for your update."

- "Great. Thanks again for agreeing."

Before he turned to leave, I smiled when I noticed him lingering on Lucy's neck. She couldn’t have chosen a better time to show off the mark I left on her. Then his eyes shifted to me, narrowing slightly.

- "See you tomorrow, sir," I said innocently.

- "Hmm... see you tomorrow."

- "Have a good evening," Lucy added just before he left.

I turned back to Lucy, who had resumed correcting my work as if none of that had just happened. Her glasses were back on her nose. With the door closed again, I seized the opportunity.

- "Is he always that annoying?"

- "He never was."

- "Really? I think he is. He tries to get to you at every chance he gets."

- "Well, now you can be sure he won’t come by after class, not with you here."

Her mischievous tone didn’t sit well with me. I slumped back in my chair, crossing my arms. It was obvious that if he wanted to be alone with her, he wouldn’t come by at this time anymore. That idea bothered me a lot.

- "You're not going to sulk, are you?" she teased. "I was as cold as possible. I think I made it pretty clear, didn't I?"

- "Hmm..."

- "Plus, I made sure you’d be in my group for that outing," she added. "I couldn’t really do much more than that."

- "Yes, you could. You could tell him outright that you’re not interested in men."

- "Fine. I’ll do that if that’s what you want."

A silence settled in. My mood lifted a little. I hadn’t expected her to go that far, but I felt relieved. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. I watched her as she reached the last page. She had used her pencil several times, so I could already tell there were corrections to make. When she finished, she handed everything back to me.

- "Here you go. You made a few mistakes, but you’ve understood the essentials."

- "Thanks," I replied shyly.

I took my papers and started working on my errors. Most of the time, they were just careless mistakes. Management requires a lot of formulas, and even though I’d memorized them with Lucy’s help before the holidays, I still mixed them up sometimes.

- "How was your night?"

- "Rough," I admitted. "I had trouble getting used to my small bed again, and I didn’t sleep much."

- "Your nightmares came back?"

- "No... I’m a bit afraid they will, but we’ll see. Worst case, I’ll ask to sleep over with Alexia."

I felt close enough to her now that I could ask her for that. I was sure she wouldn’t mind if I did.

- "Hmm... If it’s just her, I think I can accept that," Lucy said with a small smile. "You should take a page out of my book, you know. I know how to control myself."

- "Is that so?" I giggled. "Shall we talk about how you stared down Alessia after I talked to her? I saw you," I accused her shamelessly.

- "I think we should calm down," she laughed. "It’s not like we just spent two weeks living together."

I smiled. She didn’t even try to defend herself.

- "We should, that's true, but I doubt I could resist. I love your jealousy. It makes me feel important in your eyes."

- "You can. You're the most important person to me anyway, baby."

I blushed softly at her unexpected compliment.

- "You are too. Never doubt that. No one even comes close, no matter who I talk to."

- "Noted," she smiled. "Just make sure to remind your friend that you're taken."

- "You do that quite well on your own," I teased, tilting my head to expose my neck. "She knows, don’t worry."

- "Then we have no problem," she smiled wider.

Indeed. Aside from the issue of next year, there didn’t seem to be any more problems between us. I sincerely hoped everything would turn out fine, and even if it didn’t, I was confident we’d find a way through it.

[dxckgrxsonx]

Out of office is ON. Absolutely ZERO customer service duties until Monday and I am sososo relieved!

May i give you all a look at my exbf!dick WIP?

**

Watching that first edge of your relationship catch at the precipice of failure felt so much like grief it was alarming; letting go has never been something you’re good at, especially not when it comes to him.

But you couldn’t stop Dick Grayson from slipping through your fingers the same way he couldn’t stop you from slipping through his.

Ending the relationship was a mutual decision. But that fact brought no relief. He was still leaving you, and in the terrible reflection of that, you were leaving him too.

There was no coming back from that.

**

Your relationship ends on a Tuesday and first thing Wednesday morning you walk into Titans Tower to find Dick standing at the kitchen counter.

Time stalls, your whole life stuttering in a furious backfire.

Whatever you were expecting. It wasn’t this.

Memory blooms against the palms of your hands and it’s tangible, focus hard enough and your fingers could trip along the interlocking bones of his spine. It’s historic recollection, almost twelve months eclipsing the time it takes to blink; one trip around the sun together and your life comes back to you irrevocably changed.

Three hours of sleep isn’t enough to deal with this; you don’t think any amount of sleep is enough for this.

Dick stares at the wall just past your head, mug held halfway to his mouth. He’s still wearing the same clothes as last night, doesn’t look like he’s slept for even a minute, and you could throw a dart at what you’re feeling about that and still not pinpoint it exactly.

Silence seems to echo, then swell, and you can't help but fumble in the face of it, caught in foreign territory. You wasn’t quite sure what you were expecting, but seeing him again so soon wasn’t really on the list. For a moment you consider turning on the balls of your feet and leaving, and yet, you know that won’t solve anything.

A cup of coffee is pushed across the counter in your direction and you stare at it, bewilderment shoved up against the roof of your mouth. You know it’s made exactly the way you like it; know with the same sort of certainty that you bring into mission briefings, the same concrete accuracy you display in combat.

It feels like you’re going fucking crazy.

Glancing at Dick you try to gauge the look on his face but you can’t.

When you first starting dating it was hard to read between his lines–difficult to spot the miniscule changes in his mannerisms–you could stare him straight in the face and miss the switch; miss the split second where emotion filters through the cracks and he shuts it down, hides behind a smooth facade of indifference.

After all the time you spent together it got easier. You learnt. But you look at him now and you might as well have never known him at all.

Dick opens his mouth and every muscle along your spine flexes in preparation, "Let’s not make this weird, yeah?"

Your teeth grind.

What a fucking diplomat.

One thing about you is this: you’re petty. Hand on heart you can’t help it. You get wronged and hit back in the lowest form you can think of–the most inconvenient way your mind can conjure up. The satisfaction you get from it is unparalleled.

Years ago, your uncle told you to leave your own house after a disagreement and in retaliation you parked your car so close to his bumper he couldn’t get out of the space. Then you blocked his number and didn’t come back for three days.

Not once did you regret it.

Dick knows exactly what you’re like; who you are on the inside, and yet he arrives at the solution of damage control. As if that would have ever gotten a positive reaction out of you–as if there would be any moment in your life where you wouldn’t bite all the way back to your molars into something glaringly spiteful.

There’s a split second where you wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.

He knows you on a level you can’t speak about–knows you through all four seasons and right down to the cosmic dust that interlocks with the fabric of your being–and he’s so brilliantly clever. Strategist since he was a child. You don’t have a doubt in your mind that he knows what you’re about to do before you do it. The revelation stings the same way a papercut does, wound superficial and with clean edges, yet painful no matter what.

Dick Grayson knows you, and in a fit of something helpless and tearful, you wish he didn’t.

The mug of coffee tips in your fingers and you pour the whole damn thing down the drain.

“Yeah.” You say, blinking furiously, refusing to acknowledge the wobble in your voice. “Fuck that.”

Dick stares at you the whole time–the blue of his eyes almost flashing with something un-named–his free hand tightening into a fist. The exhilaration is damning, blood rushing up to greet the sick satisfaction sparking in the hollow of your throat.

Fuck him.

Fuck him so goddamn much.

**

[veeluvss]

I loved your JJ x autistic daughter fics, and it got me wondering what Emily Prentiss would be like with an autistic daughter. I love your writing, and was wondering if you would consider writing one like this? Thanks!

Hii! Thank you for your ask, here is Emily with an autistic daughter :)

Listening

Monday morning came around quicker than the Prentiss duo wanted it to. Having had the weekend off, Emily was feeling refreshed and ready for another working week. She was ready to see her team again and hoped they felt as refreshed as she did. However, she didn’t want her weekend to end. She’d had a lovely weekend with her daughter. They’d gone to the aquarium as it was their favourite place. They’d both done their homework in their office, they’d had two movie nights and a whole movie day on Sunday. They just spent as much time together as possible. It was rare they both had a free weekend so it was nice to hang out together. 

Miley was still in bed, not wanting to go to school whatsoever. She hated it at the moment. She hated school in general, ever since she could remember. But Emily didn’t like her to stay home alone and be homeschooled whilst she worked and boarding school could never be an option. She was in a private school, which meant Emily didn’t like Miley missing days or even classes because it was expensive. Being the way she was, Miley didn’t have many friends. She struggled to interact with people and hold conversations for long periods of time. People thought she was weird because she never looked at them whilst she was talking. On top of that, she was super smart, smarter than the rest of the kids in her class. Like Spencer Reid, her uncle, she had an eidetic memory. She could revise so easily and retain information with a blink. She was in the year above the normal at school which meant she was a year younger than her classmates. Which made it even harder for her to make friends. And today, her best friend Daisy, wasn’t in. Daisy was Miley’s rock. She was older but she took Miley under her wing and they did everything together. Daisy was often at the Prentiss household with having such a busy household herself. However, Daisy was on a field trip with her geography class and Miley wasn’t chosen to go which meant a whole day without her other half. She couldn’t face it alone, not the bullies. 

“Miles, come on it’s nearly 8,” Emily said, entering her daughter’s room. “I’m not going,” Miley said, matter of factly. “Oh yes you are, come on, up.” Emily pulled the covers off her daughter’s head and walked to open the curtains. “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are, Miley. School is non-negotiable.” Emily was strict in her voice. She was adamant on Miley going to school, on top of that, she hated leaving her home alone and she couldn’t take her into the office with her today as they had a big staff meeting. “Hurry up or I’m going to be late for work,” Emily said as she left the room. Miley groaned loudly and pulled the cover back up over her head. She couldn’t sleep anymore but she did not want to go in. If she wasn’t ready, her mum couldn’t force her. 

“Young lady if you’re not out of bed, I’m going to be very upset,” Emily said as she came back down the hallway. “It’s 7.55 and you’re not even dressed. What is going on?” “I told you, I’m not going in.” “And I’ve told you, school is non-negotiable.” “But Daisy isn’t in. I’ll be alone.” 

Emily sighed, she knew how important Daisy was to Miley’s school life but that really was no excuse to miss a whole day of learning. Deep down, she knew her girl was clever enough to miss a day here or there, she knew she’d catch up easily. But at the same time, she had to put her foot down. Daisy wasn’t going to be there for Miley every day of her life in the future and with college coming up, they couldn’t afford to be as attached as they still were. “You can survive one day without Daisy,” Emily said, her tone softening. She walked to her daughter’s wardrobe and pulled out an outfit. A cute skirt and sweater as now it had got colder. 

“No. I can’t,” Miley groaned from under the covers. The idea of the bullies terrified her. As soon as they saw her alone today, they were going to attack her - she could feel it. “And why can’t you?” Emily sat on the side of the bed and pulled down the covers to see her daughter’s face. She needed to have a conversation about it because there was clearly something else bothering Miley. Miley paused. She couldn’t tell her mum about the bullies because then she’d march straight into the school, attempt to do something about it and it would fail and then the bullying would only get worse. “Come on, spit it out,” Emily said. “I just can’t,” Miley said and rolled over so she didn’t have to look at her mum. “Miley,” Emily sighed. “Come on, kiddo. I know there’s something going on.” “There’s nothing going on.” Miley hated lying to her mum but she knew she would try and help and only make it worse. “Is it the bullies again?” Emily asked, her voice gentle and understanding. Miley didn’t respond. She couldn’t say no now, not now she’d got it right. “How long has it been going on for?” Emily followed up her question, taking the no response as a response. “Daisy makes it better,” Miley managed to squeak out between her growing tears. She didn’t want to cry, she was an overly emotional person. She sniffed and Emily sighed quietly. “I know she does but she won’t be there forever.” “She will,” Miley replied, trying to keep her voice strong. Emily wasn’t an emotional person so having an emotional daughter made things difficult for her. She accommodated Miley’s needs when she needed to, she was a good mum in that sense but when she started crying out of nowhere, it made it hard for Emily to respond. She knew she needed a cuddle. 

Slowly, Emily laid down on the bed behind Miley and wrapped an arm around her torso. Miley quickly rolled over and cuddled herself into her mum. She knew her mum often didn’t know what to say when she was crying so silence and hugs helped. 

Once her tears subsided, Emily pulled back and brushed some wet, black hair from Miley’s face. “It’ll be okay. Do you want me to come in and speak to your teachers?” Emily asked. “Please, no,” Miley replied and began playing with her mum’s hair. The time was 8.15 and if Emily didn't’ leave now, she’d be late. She sighed and nodded. “How about you come with me today?” Emily asked. Miley, taken aback at the suggestion, looked up at Emily with shock. “But you said -” “I know what I said but clearly this is impacting you more than I realised. We have to put your mental health and wellbeing above a bit of school,” Emily explained. “But what about the money?” “Forget about the money, sweetheart. That’s my worry not yours. Plus, it’s one day. Daisy will be back to school tomorrow and so will you,” Emily said. Miley felt  weight lift off her shoulders and she smiled widely, pulling her mum into a hug. “Thank you for understanding,” she whispered. “I’ll always listen to you, you just have to talk to me,” Emily replied. “Now get dressed, I’ve got a meeting at 9 I can't be late for.”

The team loved having Miley, their little helper around for the day and Miley loved it too. She loved all of the BAU family, especially JJ and Penelope. They’d known her the longest and they all got along so well. She loved that her mum had listened to her and understood her needs for the day. She loved her mum, her very own Unit Chief. 

[waitimcomingtoo]

SLUT!

chapter six: if a man talks shit then I owe him nothing

series masterlist

You spent the weekend holed up in your dorm room and avoided going outside at all costs. Stories and rumors from the party made their way around campus, making your reputation was worse than ever before. You skipped class on Monday and thought about skipping class on Tuesday as well but you didn’t want your grades to suffer because of some stupid jocks and their hateful words.

As you walked to your chemistry class that Tuesday, you tripped over someone’s foot in the hallway and went down. You landed on the floor and looked up to see Harry smirking at you.

“Ops. Sorry. Didn’t you see there.” He snickered. You got up and dusted yourself off before trying to open the door to your classroom. That’s when you noticed the sign on the door that said class was delayed a a few minutes due to a test being taken in that room. Harry’s next door class was also delayed for a test, explaining his presence in the hallway. Gwen and a couple other girls on your soccer team who were in Harry’s class were waiting as well, adding to the long list of people you did not want to be around.

And just when things couldn’t get any worse, Peter walked up to the classroom door. You watched him look the sign and accidentally made eye contact with him once had read it. You both quickly looked away and you turned around all together to avoid looking at him. A few more boys in Harry’s class walked up and smirked when they saw you.

“Hey Y/n, when you go in for STD testing, do they give you a little punch card since you go there so often?” One of the boys asked you, making everyone else in the hallway laugh at your expense.

“Shit, I hope so. She’s probably their number one customer.” Another boy added.

“I doubt she gets tested. When you sleep with as many guys as she has, you build up immunity to STDs. There’s probably diseases brewing in her that science hasn’t even discovered yet.” Harry laughed. You ignored them, but Gwen and your teammates looked at Harry with disproval.

“Hey guys, what’s the difference between Y/n’s mouth and the boys locker room?” One of the guys asked.

“What?” Harry asked, already laughing.

“They’re both covered in the DNA of the football team, but at least the locker room closes after 6 pm. Y/n stays wide open all night. Isn’t that right?” A guy asked you and slung his arm around you. You pushed him off of you and he stumbled back into the wall. You then looked at Peter, who had been silently listening to what had been going down.

“Are you seriously not going to say anything?” You asked him. Peter stared at you and felt speechless. He knew he should stand up for you, but he was still hurt over the events at the party.

“Of course not. You’re unbelievable.” You laughed dryly and shook your head at him.

“Aw. What happened, Peter? Did you catch her with one of the basketball boys?” One of the guys asked with fake sympathy.

“No.” Peter scoffed and you thought he might actually stick up for you.

“He was on the hockey team.” Peter added, not even knowing why he did it. Everyone laughed and Peter once again had the approval of the guys he despised. He hated the way he was behaving but couldn’t stop.

“You’re just like Brad, you know that?” You said to Peter as you started to walk away from the classroom.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked you, but you didn’t answer.

“To sleep her way into a new school, I bet.” Harry mumbled.

“Oh shut up, Harry.” Gwen groaned. Harry looked at her in surprise as his friends murmured in amusement.

“Excuse me?” Harry asked her.

“If you’re going to disrespect another women so easily right in front of me, what’s stopping you from doing the same to me?” Gwen asked and folded her arms.

“Uh, what? Are you guys BFFs all the sudden? You make fun of her too. We all do.” Harry pointed out.

“I called her a slut a few times behind her back but you guys are just pigs. You never let up. You all recycle the same stupid jokes that no one even finds funny anymore. And don’t think I haven’t heard about what happened at the party. You guys have taken this way too far.”

“Yeah. And how can you claim she’s full of diseases when you made it public knowledge that you slept with her? Doesn’t that make you full of diseases too?” One of the girls on your team asked.

“No. Cause I never actually slept with her.” Harry scoffed. “None of us have. It’s just a joke.”

“Wait, what do you mean never even slept with her?” Gwen asked. “You told me she tried to hook up with you an hour after we broke up.”

“Yeah, that’s the joke. We all say shit like that. That’s what makes it funny.” Harry tried to explain but he was having a hard time being convincing. The girls were looking at each other and they came to a stark realization: what the boys did to you could have and could still be done to any of them. And that they had realized that they’d been tricked into doing some of the dirty work for Harry and the other guys, they were angry.

Meanwhile, Harry was uncharacteristically smart enough to realize that the girls had turned on him. He looked around at their disgusted faces and gulped.

“Woah.” Harry laughed nervously. “The females are angry. Chill out. It’s just a joke.”

“Well I haven’t passed the ball to her in months because of your little “joke”. We could’ve been a team this whole time but you made us think we couldn’t trust her.” Gwen said angrily.

“So?” Harry scoffed. “It’s just a stupid soccer game? And she’s just a stupid-“

“Don’t.” Gwen cut him off. Harry scoffed and was about to defend himself, but she wasn’t done.

“I don’t want a boyfriend who hates women, Harry. I put up with this for way too long. I should’ve never believed you over her. None of us should have. I can’t take back what I did to her but I can make sure it never happens again. So we’re over.” Gwen stated. Harry looked around at all the people staring at him and felt small for the first time in his life. It was the way he always made you feel, but he didn’t know that until now.

“Well thanks a lot, Gwen. Now I don’t want to go to Intro to Modern Western Art.” Harry grumbled and left the hallway with his friends following after him. Peter smiled at Gwen standing up for you but it didn’t last long.

“What are you smiling at?” She asked him.

“Me?” Peter asked and pointed to herself.

“You were her boyfriend and you didn’t defend her. You took their side.” Gwen said angrily and pointed to where the guys had just been.

“She cheated on me. Why should I defend her?” Peter asked quietly.

“Cheated on you? Wasn’t that just a stupid rumor from the party?” Gwen asked skeptically.

“No. She texted me to come get her at a party and I caught them in bed together.”

“Caught her with who?” She questioned.

“I don’t know who the guy was. He was passed out next to her in bed. You didn’t see the picture?” Peter asked her. Gwen raised an eyebrow and took out her phone. It didn’t take long for her to find the picture and when she did, she laughed dryly.

“First of all, this is the most staged photo I’ve ever seen. They’re both fully clothed and they’re not even facing each other. She literally has shoes on in this picture. And if she’s passed out, how was she texting you?” Gwen asked him. Peter opened his mouth to respond but realized he had no answers. He’d wondered the same questioned Gwen had just asked and hearing them out loud made him wonder when more. He was about to go after you when the classroom door finally opened. The professor ushered everyone in and Peter was stuck for the next hour and a half. He knew you had a game later that day and decided to go talk to you then to finally hear your side of the story.

When you walked into the girls locker room later that day, the entire team was already in there. They were all looking at you, something you were used to, but it was different this time. They looked apologetic instead of judgmental.

“Hey.” You said skeptically and put your bag down. Gwen stood up and walked towards you, making you gulp in anticipation of what she was about to do. She threw her arms around you and hugged you tightly, taking you by surprise.

“I’m sorry.” She said in your ear as the other girls walked over to you as well. They all joined in on the hug while you stood there in confused silenced. Gwen pulled away after a minute and kept her hands on your shoulders.

“I know we haven’t been the nicest to you. And you have no reason to forgive us-“

You cut her off by pulling her back into the hug. You felt your eyes well up with tears and began to cry as Gwen hugged you tighter. The girls wrapped their arms around you again and let you cry as long as you needed to.

“We’re on your team. Whatever you need. We can walk you around campus so the jocks can’t harass you anymore.” One of the girls told you.

“And we’ve been reporting the pictures online so they get taken down. It’s been working so far. You can’t find it as easily now.” Another said.

“Why are you guys being so nice to me?” You asked them as you wiped your face.

“Because we believe you.” Gwen told you.

“You do?” You smiled hopefully.

“We do.” She nodded. “And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you sooner.”

“It’s okay.” You can told them. “I’m just glad you do now.”

“Of course. We got your back from now on. We already started to try and make it up to you. You should’ve seen the way we ganged up on the guys in the hallway today.” One of the girls laughed.

“Yeah.” Another girl said. “They were all bumbling and embarrassed. None of them were safe.”

“Not even Peter.” Gwen added, taking you by surprise.

“You guys went after Peter?” You asked as a smile tugged on your lips.

“Yeah. Just because he stayed silent doesn’t mean we were gonna be.” Gwen insisted. You smiled fondly at her, and then it turned sad.

“You know, I’ve been called a slut more times than my own name at this point. But I think it hurt the most coming from him. Why is that?” You asked them.

“Because he knew you. And he still called you something he knew you weren’t.” Gwen replied. You nodded your head when you heard how you were feeling put into words.

“Come on. We can plot ways to get back at him later. We have a game to play.” Gwen said as she took your hand. You all went out onto the field and played your best game of the season.

Peter sat alone in the bleachers to watch your game. He noticed that the girls were passing to you this time, pretty often too. You scored two goals and were met with hugs from the other girls when you did. Your team won the game and walked off the field with your arms around each other. All the pain from the weekend had temporarily subsided now that you were finally welcomed by your team. You had a huge smile on you face as you walked towards the locker room until you saw Peter walking towards you. You froze until he was right in front of you.

“Hey.” He said nervously.

“What are you doing here?”

“I signed my name on your clipboard and said I’d be at all your games, didn’t I?” He smiled weakly but you stayed coldly staring at him.

“What do you want? To call me a slut some more?” You asked and folded your arms.

“No. I’m never gonna call you that again. I never should’ve said it in the first place.”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” You agreed. “You told me you hated Brad and then went and acted just like him.”

“Do you think we could talk? Just the two of us?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Oh, now you want to talk? What about when I wanted to talk at the party? You didn’t seem to want to talk then. You just wanted to scream at me and call me a slut in front of everyone.”

“I’m sorry about that but-“

“Or what about in the hallway before? When those boys were making fun of me? You didn’t want to talk then. You said you loved me yet you were totally comfortable remaining silent while they ridiculed me. How does that work, Peter?”

“I’m sorry about that. About all of it. I was angry with you and I’m still trying to understand what happened. Can we please talk so we can figure this out?”

Before you could respond, one of the girls from your team came behind you and put her arm around your shoulders.

“Sorry. We have plans.” She said to Peter.

“Really? You guys are going out together?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yep. So if you wanted to publicly embarrass her again, you’ll have to do it some other time.” She said and led you away. Peter sighed and watched you walk away with your team. He could feel his chances of making things right with you slipping away with every step you took. It seemed like talking to you and getting the whole story was gonna be harder than he thought.

Tag List 💋

@breadglasses @hollandweather @cashtons-wife @scenesofobx

@trumanbluee @classygladiatortidalwave @miwagila @sarcasm-and-stiles

@hitoshislut @misspascalpunk @buckylovinglokivariant @betzabobababi

@eterjas @pleasingregulus @avatarjuno @dreamingofts18

@crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @erule @justsomebodyweird @un06 @tom-hollands-wifey

@bellajg21 @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer @ferrjulie

@kitykatnumber @angelayse @cleosertoriooc @iamdedsthingz @girls-and-guts

@tomshufflepuff @lovely-blackinnon @matchafrappeidm @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kneelforloki

@xorderedkaosx @dory-98 @okayiamkassandra @chaerfull @trulygnomed

@hey-girl-hey @spilled-coffee-cup @emotionsmgcbabe @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @bubblegumholland

[thedroneranger]

A Little Time Alone

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Précis: Bradley and his wife have been busy with everything except each other.

Note: One of two entires for @roosterforme’s #love is in the air tgm love song playlist challenge. This fic is inspired by Luke Comb's The Kind of Love We Make.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 3.7k

It had been weeks since we spent any time together. 

Between the new curriculum and latest batch of pilots, I was coming home late every night and leaving early every morning.

At first, she was doing her damnedest to stay up until I got home. Each night, before sliding into bed, I would slip her tablet from her clutches and remove her askew reading glasses, placing both on her nightstand. Once I settled into bed, unconsciously, she would snuggle into me, allowing me to fall asleep with a smile.

However, lately, it was clear she had been sleeping for hours. Tucked into bed, fast asleep with just her hair peeking between the bedding. I would slide into my side and do my best not to disturb her.

Each morning, I didn’t leave without giving her a goodbye kiss, but guilt always edged my decision to not wake her. Instead, I would press my lips to her forehead or cheek, whichever was exposed.

Things seemed to take a turn after her plan to surprise me with lunch on base was foiled. Normally, she would coordinate with Maverick, if he were around, or the security guard she had befriended to sneak into my office with sandwiches from our favorite deli.

Of course, she always wore a dress, which made it easy for me to bend her over my desk for a pleasurable finish. 

We had a text code so I knew to expect her. The last time she plotted a lunchtime date, I, unbeknownst, stood her up. Unable to check my texts all morning, I never saw her message and never went to my office. It wasn’t until later in the evening I saw several messages and a couple missed calls. 

I was devastated and wanted to apologize in person. However, she was always asleep when I got home. I even tried to call a few times during the day, but I never managed to catch her. After that, we exchanged fewer and fewer texts throughout each day. 

Even our weekends had been spent separately. I found myself on base more and more for special events and training. Hell, the last couple weekends, I even slept there.

She, on the other hand, has been a godsend, representing us both at family get-togethers and other personal events.

I can only imagine how she felt, likely making up excuses for my lack of presence.

The whole situation made me absolutely miserable.

“Bradley. Bradley. Bradley!” My head jerked to find Maverick intensely staring at me.

“Yeah, Mav?” I coughed to clear my throat and gave him my full attention.

He and I were alone in his office. Maverick and I were co-instructors for an upcoming class. We were going over the lesson plan when my thoughts drifted. “What’s on your mind, Bradley?” Mav put down his pen, leaned back in his chair and looked at me.

Shifting in my chair, I noticed the tension in my shoulders and that I’d been holding my breath. Subtly untensing, I spoke. “I can’t remember the last time I spent time with my wife, and she’s getting distant.”

Maverick leaned forward. He loved her like a daughter. Actually, I was convinced he liked her more than me. Mav was always reminding me not to let work ruin our relationship. 

Not that he had room to talk. 

Although, he and Penny have appeared rock solid since getting back together. Once Maverick proposed and they wed, Penny was the happiest I’ve ever seen her.

“Bradley—”

I cut off Mav. “I know, I know. Don’t fuck it up.”

“Go home,” he said.

“What?” My eyebrow cocked.

“Go home. Report back on Monday,” Mav said. We stared at each other for almost a full minute. “Go fix it.” The tone in Mav’s voice told me he was about to make it an order, so I nodded, gave a quick salute and dashed out.

Not having been home at a decent hour in nearly a month, I forgot what traffic was like. It had me doubting if I would be home any earlier than as of late. 

Her vehicle was in the driveway when I finally pulled up.

My feet were carrying me faster than my brain was processing. My mind was trying to get my hands under control so I could get the key in the door, when the door flung open.

A gasp left her lips as our gazes locked. “Hey, stranger.” She did her best to hide a smirk. Unfazed, I walked toward her, forcing her to back up and allow me into the house. Once far enough in, I closed the door. 

“Hey,” I replied. My eyes raked across her form. She was wearing a short red sundress and some strappy sandals. My cock twitched. I could not recall the last time I saw her in anything other than our fluffy duvet. 

“I should go—I don’t want to be late.” She walked toward me and got on her toes to kiss my cheek. However, I turned my head and captured her lips with mine. She hesitated for a second, but melted into me as I wrapped an arm around her waist and the other hugged her ribcage. Her hand slid from my bicep up to my neck. 

We separated just enough to look into each other’s eyes. “I hate that I forgot what you feel like,” she said. 

The comment made me hold her tighter. “We can’t have that,” I said as a matter of fact. Her eyebrow and lips quirked. I smiled at her. “I’ve been missing you more than you can imagine,” I confessed.

She was still looking at me with a tight smile. “I may have an idea.” She pursed her lips and looked off the side. Then, she looked back at me and pressed her lips to mine. As we kissed, I uncoiled an arm from around her, so I could reach back to lock the door.

She heard the click. “I have to go,” she said with her lips still against mine. 

Again, we separated just enough to look at one another. “Cancel.” My voice was more demanding than either of us expected. She looked surprised but not offended. “We need a little time alone.” I sounded softer. “So tonight, I’m only gonna be your man,” I told her. She raised an eyebrow. “I’m off the entire weekend.”

“Bradley Alexander—” She was ready to scold me for messing with her. 

“Scout’s honor.” I held my fingers up in the Eagle Scout sign. We stared at each other. “There’s no way I’m leaving this house, especially when you look this good.” My hand dropped lower to squeeze her backside. She dropped her head trying to hide the blush in her cheeks as if I’d never seen it before.

“Go shower,” she said. My grip on her loosened so she could step away. “I’m not spending the evening huffing jet fuel.” She looked my attire up and down. I left in such a rush, I still had my flight suit on. 

Extra swagger in her hips, she sauntered to the kitchen. For a split second, I considered following her and bending her over the nearest surface. But tonight called for something slower, softer than a counter quickie.

Instead, I went to our ensuite bathroom and let the water pressure ease my muscles. Soothed by the water and steam, I lost track of time. When I realized, I hopped out, did a quick shave and dressed.

We were home, but she was wearing that sinful sundress, so I at least wanted to wear something I knew she’d love. I put on my favorite pair of worn jeans, a white tank and an Aloha shirt I knew was one of her favorites. 

I padded downstairs, noticing the lights were low and she’d lit candles. A smile turned my lips when I heard Led Zeppelin IV spinning on the record player—I thought about the countless times we made out to this soundtrack.

When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks. She was sitting on our small breakfast table, palm supporting her, head tilted back, wine glass to her lips. One leg ran the radius of the table while the other hung off at the knee. Her heel popping to the beat of the music.

She turned to look at me. “Wine?” She held out her glass. I shook my head as a coy smile pulled a corner of my mouth. She winked as she polished off the last sip in her glass.

As I approached the table, she shifted so she was facing me and placed the glass at her side. Stepping between her legs, I pushed the glass further back. A hand on either side of her, I leaned so we were at eye level. 

Her hand cupped the side of my jaw, and her thumb ran along my lips. Mindlessly, I pressed a kiss to it. The tiniest smile curled the corners of her mouth as she searched my face. I hummed as her fingers traversed the raised skin of my scars and came to rest on the dip of my chest just below my clavicles. “Do you have any idea how handsome you are?” she asked.

Surely she felt my chest rumble as I chuckled. “Only when you tell me.” My voice was raspier than usual. Leaning further into her, I dropped my head to place soft kisses on her neck. 

“Surely other women tell you.” I knew exactly what she was doing. 

“I can assure you, they keep their thoughts to themselves,” I replied. Between kisses I told her about my latest class catching sight of her on base. It was the last time we had lunch together before our drought. A couple of them commented about a hot civilian. Turning, I found her chatting with Maverick. 

I told them the easiest way to not return from a mission was ogling another pilot’s spouse. One of the women who had been doing her damnedest to flirt with me blurted, “That’s your wife?!” I nodded at her with a wink. She paled and never looked me in the eye again.

The earned laugh that quickly morphed into a moan had me considering unzipping my pants and unceremoniously fucking her. But I had to pace myself. She was flat against the table, my body covering her with my forearms holding me up as I kissed whatever exposed skin was available. The raggedness of her breathing kept me going. 

“Do you know how hard it is for me not to wake you up every night at some ungodly hour?” I told her, picking my head up to see her response. 

Her bottom lip was between her teeth as her eyes twinkled in the low light. “Why wouldn’t you wake me up?” she asked. Her thighs were squeezing my hips, the skirt of her dress covering almost nothing. 

“First, you sleep through absolutely everything.” She chuckled as my hands skimmed her bare thighs. “We could be having a magnitude 10 earthquake, and you’d sleep through it.” She nodded in agreement as one of my hands slid between us. 

I froze. “Where are your underwear?” She never went commando without a purpose. 

She propped herself up on her elbows. “Maybe I was hoping you would be home, in bed, when I returned. And I could wake you up.” She paused. “If you came home.” Her gaze was intense.

My smile faltered and my head dropped with my shoulders in a moment of guilt. Quickly, I looked back up at her. “I’m sorry.” Still gripping her thigh, my thumb drew circles on it. 

“Show me,” she said.

“Excuse me?” I had expected her to scold me or for us to get into a deep conversation about the past month.

She moved my hand from her thigh to between her legs. “Actions speak louder than words.” Expertly, she maneuvered my hand to guide two fingers into her. “Show me how sorry you are. How much you’ve missed me.”

For a minute, I froze. Tired of waiting for me, she wrapped her hand around my wrist to slide my fingers in and out of her. Finally, I got a hold of myself, my thumb pressing to her swollen bundle of nerves and the pads of my fingers stimulating that spongy spot inside. Her breath caught as I took over.

“That’s it, honey.” She melted against the table. “Let’s take it nice and slow.” She clenched around my fingers—I thought I might come right then. “Fuck,” I said under my breath. She smiled as she watched me squeeze my eyes shut. 

Back on her elbows, her fingers snuck into my hair and pulled me until our lips connected. My lips parted just enough to allow her tongue in. It toyed with mine, matching the rhythm of my fingers pumping in and out of her. Her lips left mine with a smack. “Bradley,” she moaned as I alternated between scissoring my fingers and curling them against her G spot.

“That’s it,” I cooed, keeping the same pace and pattern. I could feel her tightening around my fingers. “Fuck,” I breathed out, enjoying the feel of her. My lips fell to her neck, knowing the additional contact would send her over the edge. 

The stutter breath she let out matched her contractions around my fingers. “That’s it, honey.” I watched her face as she went through her high, my fingers keeping pace. As she untensed, I slowed to a stop. She looked at me as she steadied her breathing and a smile appeared. She continued to watch as I cleaned her from my fingers. Immediately, she pulled me down to taste herself.

She hummed as we separated. “Go pick another album. I wanted to make out with you on the couch.” My cock jumped from just the words leaving her mouth. Standing to my full height, I helped her off the table. 

She shooed me with her hands to the living room where my inherited record player was housed. I thumbed the sleeves until I found the perfect selection: The Velvet Underground’s Loaded.

As soon as the needle fell into the groove, she appeared with the bottle of wine. We both traipsed to the couch. She split the wine as I settled into the sofa. I accepted a glass and then beckoned her to sink into my side. Together, we sipped and listened to the opening song. 

As the next began to play, she placed our empty glasses on the coffee table and straddled my lap. My hands came to rest on the tops of her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher to expose more skin. She shimmied even closer to me, so she was at even more of a height advantage—my head was tipped almost completely back. 

Her fingers sifted through my locks, her nails massaging my scalp. A deep breath I didn’t even realize I was holding escaped my parted lips. She smiled as she watched me relax. My eyes were practically in the back of my head, her massage turning my mind to mush.

She tugged my hair, which earned a moan and caused me to shift under her. She ground against me, the stiff seams of my jeans caressing her most sensitive spot. I let her roll my head to the side so she had better access to pepper kisses along my neck. She continued to grind against my denim-clad crotch. Boy, did I wish there were less fabric between us. 

My fingers dug into her thighs as she sank her teeth into my neck. “Christ,” I said under my breath. She sat back and eyed me, proud of the reaction she got. Her thumb passed over the spot that would surely be purple later. “Maybe your students will have fewer questions come Monday.” Before I could say anything, she leaned in and sweetly pressed her lips to mine. 

“You’re such a sour patch kid,” I teased. She smiled at the nickname while she nipped my lips and swirled her tongue against mine. At the same time, her hands were busy unfastening my jeans. She climbed off my lap, and I lifted my hips to help her rid me of my garments. 

Climbing back into my lap, her knees bracketed my hips and the tops of her feet contoured the curve of my thighs. Her core rested against my length. I wanted nothing more than to guide myself into her.

“It’s really unfair you look this good in such a silly print.” Her fingers followed the shoulder seams of my shirt to the collar. Using the points, she pulled me back in for a kiss. As we separated, her hands dipped under my collar and over my shoulders to help shed the cloth. 

Once that was off, she took advantage of a tiny hole I hadn't noticed in my tank. Penetrating it with her finger, she pulled and the fabric easily gave way. I watched as the hole grew and she fisted the fabric to snap it at the hems. She untangled me from the ruined garment and dropped it to the floor. 

My arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer and hands palming her backside through her dress. Her hips lifted, and with one hand, she guided me into her. Slowly, she returned to her resting position. A sigh left my mouth as I felt her adjusting to me.

“Honey,” I trailed off as she squeezed me a couple times. We kept eye contact as she began to slowly lift and lower herself. The pace quickened just a bit as she fell into rhythm with the music.

As she kept going, my hands slipped under her dress and began to pull it up until it was over her head. Once it was off, my mouth immediately found one of her nipples. The moan that left her lips was euphoric. 

It made me bite her harder. She let out something between a moan and cry as her nails sank into my shoulders. I hissed, enjoying the burn as she scored my skin.

She was frustrated, and I wanted every bit of that energy. 

Not wanting to miss any of it, I coiled an arm back around her waist and easily flipped us so she was laying on the couch parallel with the cushions. 

Her doe eyes stared up at me, filled with surprise. My quirked lip grew to a smirk, as I anchored a hand on the cushion beside her head and the other on the couch back. My hips began to rock, setting a new pace for us. The lust came back to her gaze as her soft thighs met my hips and her heels found purchase in the dimples of my ass. 

I held it together as her nails gently ran from the top of my cock to just under my pecs and back. Her touch was soft but firm enough not to tickle. I flexed a little extra. 

Watching her breasts bounce with each thrust was enamoring. Her breathy gasps each time I bottomed out were the only noise I was hearing. My eyes sank as she stopped touching me and started touching herself. 

My pace stayed the same, but my gaze was trapped where we connected. I slid in and out while her digits swirled along her swollen nerves. My hips stuttered from the added pleasure as her index and forefingers made a V around the base of cock. “Fuck me,” I whined. 

She smiled. “No, you’re fucking me,” she corrected. We laughed together. 

“I missed this so, so much,” I confessed. Wanting to be closer to her, I sank to my elbows. I tucked my palm behind her head, letting my fingers sift through her hair. Her eyes were hooded as she looked at me through her lashes. 

We locked gazes as she took a deep breath and moved her hands to my waist, her nails sinking into the flesh just above my hips. At the same time, I felt her entire lower half contract, thighs hugging me and core convulsing. 

“Bradley.” My name was long and drawn out as it left her lips. It was enough to make me spill into her. I breathed her name into the crook of her neck as I curled my arm under her head, my elbow became her head rest, to hug her whole body as close as possible. Her hand ran up my side and hooked around my shoulder. 

I followed her name with a pleasurable hiss as her teeth sank into the meat of my shoulder. She punctuated the action with a tender kiss. The first of several she trailed into the crook of my neck as we rode out our orgasms.

Just as we came down from our high, the record ended. “Perfect timing.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling out and heading to the record player. She whined, but turned to enjoy the view as I walked away. Patiently, she waited as I flipped the vinyl and put it back on the player. I lined up the needle perfectly, and immediately the opening notes seeped out of the speakers. 

By the time I was headed back to the couch, she was standing beside it. “Should we change the dress code in the house to birthday suits only?” I pressed my body to hers, enjoying the full frontal contact and handful of her ass I grabbed. She squeaked and arched her back. My lips covered hers to distract from her attempt to escape. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled into her lips. 

We parted just far enough to look one another in the eyes. Her expression was playful. “Apology accepted.” I squeezed her around her ribcage and stuck my face in the crook of her neck. Although we were stark naked, our hug was earnest. 

As we separated, she held my biceps, keeping us close. “Let’s go upstairs so you can keep doing what you’re doing to me all night long.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Together, we blew out all the candles, and then walked upstairs hand-in-hand.

Visit my masterlist for more | Sign up for my taglist!

The Baddie™ Bunch (my taglist): @roosterforme, @cherrycola27, @notroosterbradshaw, @taytaylala12, @malindacath, @violyn20