#and chapter two is gonna be the icing on top

[empressofmankind]

So, I am editing @tiredemomama and mine second chapter for Team Triassic. And I just wrote a single line that every single post doc is probably going to feel in their bones.

“He [Crocodile] actually threatened to sell his shares!” Masrani said in an affronted tone as he gestured at their surroundings. “Can you believe he would just unplug all this? Leave us limping and beggared??” Wu absolutely could. He’d written grants.

I am enjoying writing dr Wu wayyy too much, ngl. I get this man's frustrations with being surrounded by coorporate idiots soooooo much. I too, would set loose a giant ass murder reptile on them all if I could.

[twilghtkoo]

pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)

genres/aus. fluff, established relationship

warnings. jk loves calling reader ‘sweetheart’, mentions of reader’s anxiety, and a short kiss(makeout?) scene, not proofread!

notes. i actually loved writing the first drabble of jungkook x bookworm!reader and i can’t sleep and currently rewatching the twilight movies as im writing this so here’s this :D likes and reblogs are appreciated <33

[ masterlist ]

—

you can’t remember when you had told yourself, one more chapter. but apparently it’s been long considering it’s almost three in the morning. the ice in your coffee has melted into a smaller ice cube, so you take a big sip. not wanting the ice to water down the sweet, creamy taste.

coffee late at this hour doesn’t affect you no more. you drink it now for the taste more than anything. you can thank school and those tiring days of studying hunched over a table. the amount of energy drinks and coffee you’ve consumed should be concerning but you gotta do what you gotta do.

if jungkook was here, he would’ve had a fit and told you drinking caffeine at this hour is bad for you.

but he’s not. he’s at a late night practice and he told you he’s not sure he’ll be able to come over.

you have your two pillows propped up against your headboard, your book nuzzled against your thighs and your stuffed animal under your arm. your bedside lamp creating the perfect lighting for you to see and the perfect atmosphere.

you’re deep into your book, too engrossed in the plot between the love interests that you don’t hear keys jingle and a door softly shut and echo in the quiet night of your home.

you still don’t hear the soft feet padding towards your bedroom until your door opens, revealing your boyfriend.

he looks as if he’s freshly showered, the ends of his hair are damp and stringy, and his face is bare and cheeks a soft red. that’s how it looks after he finishes his skincare routine, he must have rushed over here.

he grins when he sees you’re awake and so do you when you see him, placing your bookmark inside and setting it down next to you. you sit up on your knees, eager to touch him and kiss him, realizing again how much you miss him despite seeing him this morning. that was almost 24 hours ago.

but his eyes maneuver to the coffee that’s condensing, making a puddle on the coaster.

he squints his eyes at you. and it feels almost as if you’ve been caught as a child. you lower yourself to sit on the back of your shins.

“hi kookie,” you smile, acting innocent.

“don’t kookie me. how many times have i told you to stop drinking coffee so late, it’s almost three. you’re not gonna sleep.” he tells you again, sternly. reaching behind his neck to take off his crewneck in one swift movement, the shirt underneath scrunches up with the sweater, revealing his abs. and you can’t help but ogle while you’re being scolded. you can’t blame me.

you frown, “i know, i know. but you know reading and drinking coffee goes hand in hand. i wanted to enjoy reading my book and–“

he moves towards you, placing his knee on the foot of the bed, crawling shortly til he reaches you. his nose brushing yours and his eyes half-lidded. the soft scent of his shampoo and brief smell of mint swallows you, bringing that familiar comfort.

“sweetheart, i know. but caffeine also doesn’t mesh well with your anxiety. you know that. it’s fine to drink it once or twice during the day but late at night is a no.” he softly warns, tilting his chin upwards to catch your lips with his.

it was meant to be a quick kiss but your fingers reach to hold his face, tugging him closer to you until you’re lying on your back and he’s on top. his hands placed on both sides of your head, caging you in, straddling you. both your hands trail its way down from his neck down to his chest, stomach and then they find its home at his waist. pulling him down til his front weighs pressure on your sensitive spot.

both of you moan into the kiss, and your sweet sound sends an alert to jungkook. before you both get carried away, he pulls back, kissing you once more before pulling away.

he hums, deliciously. “though coffee does taste best coming from you.” he gazed at you, eyes shining and lips slightly red. no doubt, you look the same.

“i thought you weren’t coming tonight.” you say questioningly, watching him move your book next to your coffee so he can lie underneath the covers with you. once he’s settled in, he has an arm resting behind his head and the other resting around you.

“i wasn’t, but i really wanted to sleep with you and i wanna make you breakfast in the morning. i saw a recipe i wanna try.” you hum in response, trying to nuzzle your head deeper into his warmth but his t-shirt is blocking what you want.

you tug at his shirt without saying anything and he understands. he sits up quickly to shrug off the fabric, tossing it across the room to land beside his bag before lying back down, holding you.

he lets out a dramatic sigh, “ahh, this is my favorite thing in the world.” turning on his side, you following so you’re both facing each other, legs tangled together.

“i missed you too.” you whispered. he didn’t say it but he didn’t have to, his answer was enough.

your head nestled underneath his chin and against his chest, you kiss the skin.

“what chapter are you on?” he asks, his voice deeper than it was, slumber almost taking over him.

“twenty-eight, i’m almost done with it.”

he hums. “did you start the book today?”

he feels you nod. “my little bookworm.” he coos, scratching your back softly with the tips of his fingers. “go to sleep, sweetheart.”

and you do.

[superblysubpar]

series masterlist | part two ->

chapter summary: A bet is proposed.

the song: honey by halsey

2,563 words | please see the masterlist for general warnings | my blog is 18+

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

  Your fingers tightened around the handlebars, palms damp and grip too loose for your liking. A deep furrow seems permanent between your brows, resting under the cherry red plastic that brought you into this mess. Their words ringing in your ears like a jingle of a commercial - annoying and unable to ignore if you tried. 

  “What a girl - she needs a helmet to ride a bike?”

  And if that comment alone wasn’t bad enough, Steve Harrington had to chime in. Leaning over his own handlebars, smirking, daring you to challenge him. 

  “What you need it for anyways? Not like you were planning to go down the destroyer. Bet you were just going to Benny’s for ice cream.”

  The other boys had snickered, Steve’s smirk grew into a full wattage, cocky, grin. That is until you lifted your chin, kicked up dust directly at him as you turned your bike and said: 

  “Cute you still call it the destroyer. I’ve been biking down that hill for years. How about I show you and buy you an ice cream cone afterwards Harrington?”

  Boys ‘oo’ed’, Steve’s jaw clenched, and your chest filled with some sort of powerful and addicting feeling as you biked towards your lie. 

  Which now sits in front of you. The legend so aptly named by the Hawkins population of thirteen and under due to it’s sheer height and the gravel that sat below it. A hill way out near the Quarry, it took half the day to bike there and back - if you still had your bike after that is. It was the tallest point in Hawkins aside from a grassy hill teens would sneak away to. 

  From the top of the destroyer, you could see the whole town, all the way down to the bottom of the Quarry, the road, and where it turned to gravel to lead to the sort of landing at the base of the pit. 

  It was the point the hill turned to gravel that truly gave the bike killer its name. If one somehow got the courage, or in your case straight up stupidity and false confidence for brains, to decide to go down the hill, your speed by the time you reached the bottom would be too much and the gravel was a relentless enemy. 

  You’d heard stories of bikes skidding, of scratched up, bruised limbs. There was even a tale of one boy who toppled over his handlebars and popped his shoulder out of place. 

  And you’d told Steve Harrington you’d been going down it for years. 

  “Hey.”

  His voice was far quieter than you were used to hearing, like he wanted you to have to lean in and listen to what he was about to tell you. 

  When you turned to tell him you didn’t care for what he had to say, you were shocked to find his cheek pulled between his teeth, wavy hair pushed up at odd angles like he’d run his hands through it a few too many times. Steve wrapped his fingers around his own handlebars tighter, like if his grip was strong enough, yours would be too, straddling his bike next to yours and gulping as he looked down the hill. 

  “What?” You finally asked, fingers toying with the straps of your helmet. 

  “I don’t think you should do this…” 

  As the boys whispered behind you, you frowned and didn’t dare think about how Steve’s voice wobbled a little, like there was some real emotion behind the warning. 

  Like he cared. 

  “I’m truly touched you were able to scrounge up enough brain cells to force a thought, but I have never and will never care what you think Steve Harrington.”

  That same swelling feeling of triumph filled your chest when the other boys laughed and Steve’s ears started to turn as red as your helmet. 

  Steve ignored the laughing, voice a twinge stronger than before as he said, “You’re gonna get hurt.”

  “I’ve done this hundreds of-“

  Steve said your last name, grabbed your handlebars. His golden eyes burning with something as he practically begged you to listen to what he was trying to say.

  “You’re being stupid.”

  From this close, you could see more freckles along the bridge of his nose, see that his eyes weren’t brown but had a little green in them. You could smell lemonade and sunblock and something about it all made you panic. Made you push him off and add extra bite to your tone, hoping your words stung him.  

  “Yeah? Well, you’d know all about stupid, Harrington.”

  And then you pushed off, the call of your name drowned out by the wind rushing past your ears. 

  Hawkins, Indiana - the present

  Your eyes roll almost in time with Harrison Ford’s. A man who’s currently on the suspended screens because he has some weird thing about a movie with him being on while he’s flirting. Like Harrison’s energy is in the store with him, a guiding wingman. 

  What a tool. 

  Eddie’s lips quirk up in a lopsided smirk across from you when your shoulders tense at the shrill giggle to your left. You roll them back, then your head from side to side. Your fingers meet to form the goal post again, elbows sticking to laminated sheets screaming about summer deals and most definitely some sort of residual soda spill.

  “So,” a deeper voice than what you know it to typically sound like catches the tail end of the giggle, “If I were to call this number right now-“

  “I’m not home, silly,” another forced giggle interrupts. 

  Eddie sighs when you straighten up again, your teeth snapping at a red vine as you watch the hand reach forward and tuck a perfect blonde ringlet behind an ear, then linger. 

  “Well,” he leans in, voice stickier than the honey of his eyes, “If you were home…I’d call you.” He taps the tip of her nose with the pad of a finger, then flashes a smile brighter than the overhead fluorescents. “And ask you if you’d be free for a movie tonight?”

  Robin snorts next to your ankle behind the counter. Green vest covered shoulders rising as they shake with somewhat silent laughter and her head hides between her knees, tapes scattered on the floor around her. 

  Your head shakes back and forth in baffled amazement. It’s like an accident - you can’t help but watch  the wreck that’s about to-

  “And if I were home to answer, I’d tell you to pick me up at 7.” 

  The red vine falls from your mouth onto the counter, as you watch a little piece of paper leave manicured fingers and slip into the front pocket of his gray polo.

  A paper football smacks your nose as Eddie sighs out of his. As her hips sway under tight denim, haloed by the bright sunshine when the trill of the door chimes on her exit, the overpowering scent of vanilla and peaches continues to suffocate. 

  Steve Harrington turns to you all with a cocky grin. He pulls the digits scrawled in loopy font out of his pocket and nestles it between brown leather and green bills before returning the wallet to his back pocket with a pleased sigh. 

  “Oh yeah, I’m back.”

  And then he high fives the TV.

  Not just a tool - a whole box of them.  

  Steve turns when you snort, eyebrows raised at you as he takes his place behind the counter again. 

  “Something funny?” He asks, reaching toward your box of red vines. 

  “Real funny,” you admit, snatching them closer, “That you think anything about that interaction means you’re back.”

  Your waist hits the counter as you step out of his reach when he takes another forward with a tilted head. His fingers just miss the red candy when he huffs. 

  “Enlighten me, babe.”

  “Don’t,” you hiss, “Call me babe.”

  The counter digs into your back, Steve leans in closer, mint and cedar beginning to overpower the peaches, and you hate that you don’t mind the difference. 

  Steve’s lips smirk, a freckle just above his top one lifting as he tsks, “Wow. Not gonna even acknowledge my big brain word?”

  “Would you like a round of applause, Harrington, for correctly using the word enlighten?” 

  He grins, he nods, his fingers snatch a piece of the licorice up, “Yeah. Yeah I would.”

  You catch the end of the candy, shaking your head with a scoff. “She called you big boy.”

  Robin, whom you don’t want to admit you’d forgotten was even behind the counter with you, sighs, loudly.

  “Wow. Thanks. I had just forgotten.”

  Steve tugs on the candy between the two of you with raised eyebrows and a look of annoyance. “And?”

  You tug harder, and Steve dares to take another step closer with it, knuckles brushing yours that lay limply next to thighs almost touching. 

  “And, that means you didn’t do a thing except let rumors of what’s underneath your too tight Levi’s spread like the rash you’ve probably given to half this town.”

  Another tug of the candy, though gentler this time, pulls you closer, plastic crinkling against your abdomen as he proudly whispers, “Not rumors, babe.”

  “Call me babe,” you practically growl, “One more time. See what happens.”

  “Okay,” Steve tilts his chin in a challenge, fingers twitching on the candy, “Ba-“

  The red licorice disappears with a flash of silver metal, snapped between white teeth before it’s waved around dramatically.

  “While this is super fun to watch. She’s not wrong Stevie.” Eddie shrugs. 

  Steve takes a step back, red Nike swoosh flashing as he kicks at thread bare carpet. “Sure. She’s never wrong.”

  You have to physically stop yourself from sticking your tongue out at him. 

  Eddie hoists himself up onto the counter, chain tapping and clanking against things as he gets down just as quickly he sits when you snap your fingers and point to the ground. 

  He raises his hands in surrender at you, then waves at Steve with a squint of big, brown eyes. 

  “You’re not back. You barely had to put in any work with that cutie. She was making heart eyes at you from the parking lot, man.”

  Steve holds his arms out at his sides, like he’s innocent. “Just because girl’s know I have a sizeable-“

  “Ew,” you snap another bite of candy. 

  “Appendage-” Steve continues, ignoring you. 

  “You’re sick,” Robin delivers in a monotone from her stack sorting. 

  “And they know I know what I’m doing with it,” Steve talks over Robin in their well-oiled banter, “Doesn’t mean I don’t have to work hard.” Steve dares to place his fingers over his chest and continue with pride dripping from each word, like he truly believes and is proud to say, “I still have to put in the work to look good, to flirt and think on my feet. I have to pull out the Harrington charm. It’s not my fault I have more than other guys to work with.”

  Eddie ponders what Steve is saying thoughtfully, he places his hands behind his back and paces, nodding his head carefully. 

  “Maybe so,” Eddie sighs dramatically, gesturing with a bow to Steve, “We cannot all be gifted with such well-endowment.”

  “I truly hate it here,” Robin says to the ceiling while Steve beams. 

  You tilt your head at Eddie, trying to figure out where he’s going before he gets there. 

  He slaps his hands on the counter, metal clanking against glass displaying candy as he proclaims, “I propose a challenge.”

  Steve snorts, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter next to you, his elbow nudging yours. “What, like a duel?”

  Your eyes roll as you dig your elbow into his, pushing him away. 

  “Intriguing, but maybe another time. I’m fresh out of jousting materials I’m afraid,” Eddie grins. “No, I think, to really know if you’re back, to prove this,” he waves his hands at the entirety of Steve, “All takes real work and you’re not just coasting on what the good lord gave you, you’d need to use it on someone who’s unsuspecting. Someone,” Eddie purses his lips, “Who isn’t already swooning over the mere thought of you.”

  Robin spins, blue eyes alight with intrigue. “Hold on. I’m listening.”

  Steve tilts his head, “You want me to get the number of a girl who hates me?”

  Robin grins like it’s the best things she’s ever heard, but Eddie shakes his head, tugging on a curl. “No. Too easy. I think you need to sleep with her.”

  Your mouth drops open in disbelief and Robin whistles low and slow. 

  Eddie pretends to hold up a scroll, reading from air in a theatric voice, “I, Eddie Munson, declare that Steve Harrington cannot get the next girl to walk through this door of thy Family Video to have sex with him. The rules shall be that Harrington may only pursue said girl after careful consideration of her un-swoonability by yours truly, and will have one week to prove his charming capabilities. The stakes? One hundred dollars. Does Steve Harrington accept such a bet?”

  You scoff, “You’re both not actually making a bet on-“

  Steve’s hand slaps into Eddie’s, both boys smirking as they shake on it. Steve waves his other hand in the air, all nonchalant while confidence oozes out of him. “Next girl that walks through that door, I’m going to fuck. Easy.”

  “Unbelievable, You’re both unbelievable.” Your words are lost on deaf, egotistical ears.

  Eddie nods, he grins with shoulders raised at Steve. “Right. Since you’re back, easy peasy.”

  “Her ass and tits will be squeez-ied.” 

  Robin boos, cupping a hand around her mouth. 

  You gesture to her, “That? That’s what you finally have a problem with?”

  Robin shrugs, grinning, “I’m off the clock in one minute. Then he’s your problem.” She looks at Eddie, “Still able to give me a ride home?”

  Eddie nods, “I am but only the ladies driver,” he turns to you with a snap, “Speaking of, think you left your vest in my van, doll.”

  “Oh shit, thanks,” you bounce around the counter as Robin heads into the back. The door chimes as you squint into the late afternoon summer sun, sneakers kicking pebbles on the way to Eddie’s van, when it hits you. Suddenly. Wonderfully. Beautifully. 

  Your vest is sitting on the counter next to your red vines. 

  You spin, gravel crunching beneath your heels as you look at the front of the store.  

  Heavy steps thud against the ground as you race towards it, meeting a frantic Steve at the set of glass double doors.

  He grips the handles, wild eyes and shaking his head no, as he holds them closed and you tug to open them, grinning. 

  Eddie bows behind Steve as Robin cackles. 

  “What’s the matter Harrington,” you call through the doors, enjoying the way his jaw pulses, “Why can’t I come inside? Enlighten me.”

  Steve’s gaze traces your face, it lingers on your smile before it meets your eyes. 

  A challenge in both sets of glares, neither of you willing to back down. 

  He let’s his hands fall from the handles and rest on his hips as the chime trills overhead with your step inside. 

  You bat your eyelashes, you press the back of your hand to your forehead and pretend to faint against the glass. 

  “Good luck, big boy.” 

Tag List - thanks for your endless patience and excitement for this, but please let me know if you'd no longer like to be tagged:

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit

[lustfulslxt]

1949 ⭑ Matt Sturniolo

Chapter One

summary : you move back home with your brother and click with his friends, though the tension is high with matt and it turns into something more

warnings : brothers best friend trope, slow burn, tension, sneaky relationship, swearing, eventual smut, slight traumatic past relationship with reader’s mother, and probably some other stuff

a/n : each chapter will have a different collage solely based on what takes place in it. kind of a new idea but i’m gonna run w it. if you don’t like it, use your imagination and pretend it’s not there xx

3.4k words

prologue

—

Surprisingly, after the long and heartfelt hug, things were quiet as the three of you make your way back to the car. Your dad insisted on carrying your belongings for you, leaving you arm in arm with Nate, who refuses to leave your side.

The lights on the car flash as your dad unlocks it, heading towards the opening trunk to place your luggage in it. Nate opens the back door for you, holding his hand out, motioning you to get in. You easily slide through, the fresh aroma of black ice filling your senses. A wave of familiarity washes over you, striking you with old memories you’re so fond of.

“Are you okay?” Nate asks from beside you.

You glance at him with a smile before furrowing your eyebrows, “Yeah. How come you’re not up front?”

“Oh come on. I’ve spent thirteen years without you, I don’t ever wanna leave your side again.” He admits with a bittersweet laugh, then pauses, “Wait, unless you’re more comfortable—“

You stop him from getting back out by grabbing his arm, instantly shaking your head. “No, please stay.”

He gives you a smile, taking place right beside you again. Your father opens the door on the opposite side, and starts to scoot in before stopping as he looks at the two of you in the back.

“Wait.. I have to drive?” He questions, feigning absurdity.

“Dad!” Nate chuckles, leaving you all giggling as your dad gets behind the wheel to get you all home.

Home.

It’s weird to think that. You’re going home. It’s you, Nate, and your dad in a city you used to love, but now seems so foreign to you. You can only hope things start to fit together again.

The car ride is silent, the three of you just taking in the abrupt new change. You’re over the moon to be back with them, but you can’t help but notice the difference. And of course, things are going to be different as it’s been thirteen years. You just didn’t really know what to expect.

As you watch out the windows, the scenery becomes slightly familiar and it takes you a moment to realize where you’re at. You recognize the side streets, every turn, every tree, every house. And then you’re there.

Your eyes widen as you take in the house in front of you. Slowly exiting the car, you view the house from top to bottom. It’s exactly the same.

“You never left.” You find yourself stating.

Nate comes to your side as your dad retrieves your bags, “We wanted to stay here in case you ever found your way back home.”

Tears prick in your eyes and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming mix of emotions. Without a word, you lurch into Nate’s arms, engulfing him in a massive hug. His embrace is warm and welcoming, making you realize just how much you missed him.

Pulling away, he gives you a sad smile, rubbing your arm in a comforting manner. Your dad places a hand on your shoulder, causing your attention to shift to him. You immediately wrap your arms around him, yanking him into a much needed hug.

“Enough with being all sappy and shit. Let’s get inside, it’s cold as hell out here.” Nate chuckles.

You smile and follow them in, your heart rate increasing with every step you take. You’re in awe once you walk through the door. It’s been years, but everything’s still the same, aside from a few upgrades. It still gives that welcoming feeling you’ve desperately longed for.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” Nate asks.

You look towards the staircase where your dad is headed, before looking back at your brother. He has a sort of hopeful look on his face, though you can still see he’s a bit unsure. You swallow the lump in your throat and give him a small upturn of your lips, nodding in agreement.

He starts up the same steps you used countless of times years and years ago, beckoning you to follow him. Your shaky hand grasps the railing as you do, the wooden steps slightly creaking beneath your weight. As you round the corner, you notice your dad standing outside the door to your old bedroom.

“Uh—we didn’t change anything, we kind of just left it as it was.” He starts, his tone of voice a bit nervous, “We did get a new bed when your grandma said you were coming back, figured you’d like more room as opposed to a twin. Oh, and your clothes were just pulled out to make room for what you have now. They’re packed away in the garage. I know your taste has probably changed, so we can do whatever you want with it. ”

You’re left speechless as you hesitantly cross the threshold. Your mind is flooded with old memories that you seemed to have forgotten.

“Well, we’ll leave you to get settled in.” Your dad says, “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“But—“ Nate is cut off by a tug from your father, pulling him out of the room.

As soon as the door closes, you turn back around to take it all in. Your eyes are wide as you observe your surroundings. Today is full of surprises, you almost don’t even know how to deal with it all.

Your walls are covered in that same pink pastel wallpaper, spare flowers scattered all across them. Your floor still has that white fluffy carpet that you were obsessed with when you were five. The chalkboard is covered from top to bottom with old writing from when you and Nate were little, but you notice something in the corner that looks a bit different.

I miss you so much sis

The tears flooding your eyes slip, streaming down your cheeks as your fingertips brush over the words. You wonder what it’s been like for them. Was it as hard for them as it was for you? Was it even worse?

You take a deep breath and continue around the room. Your small desk is filled with coloring books and writing utensils just like you left them the night before you were torn away from your family. Your toy box is overflowing with all sorts of things — dolls, stuffed animals, legos. You have a giant kitchen set on the side of the chest, one that you vividly remember you and Nate playing with. There’s a small bulletin board by your window, covered in pictures from your younger years.

Being with your family in your old house, your old room, brings so many feelings to the surface. You’re super glad to be home, but you feel so sad. Sad that you’ve gone so long without them, and you’ll never get that time back.

Taking a deep breath, you sit on the edge of your bed, before letting yourself fall flat against it. It’s soft and plush, just how you like it, and the fact that they remembered makes you smile.

You don’t know how long it’s been as you lay there in silence, but your eyes feel droopy and you’re practically fighting sleep. However, it takes merely minutes for it to consume you, and you drift off into a much needed slumber.

-

The sweet and smokey smell of syrup and bacon fill your nose, causing you to scrunch it up as you slowly become conscious. Your eyes are heavy and it takes a minute to adjust to the bright light shining through the window. After a moment, your body begins to wake up and you find yourself rolling over in search of your phone. Running your hands through your sheets, you sit up in a slight panic, only to feel the hardness beneath you in the back pocket of your jeans. You pull it out to check the time, shock flooding your veins as you read 12:47 PM.

“Holy shit.” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief that you slept so long.

You swing your legs off the bed, planting them on the ground as you reach your arms up to stretch. Your back subtly cracks, pulling a satisfied groan from you as your legs slightly twitch. Rolling your head from side to side, you stand up and follow the pleasant interruption that awoke you from your peaceful tranquility.

As you make your way downstairs, you hear shuffling in the kitchen. The sound of grease popping is heard, followed by a loud yelp. Quickening your stride, you round the corner and see Nate watching the stove from quite a few feet away.

“Um, are you okay?” You question, your voice still a little groggy with sleep.

Nate jumps at the sound of your voice, whipping around with wide eyes. “You’re awake!”

You give him a crooked smile, your eyebrows knitting together, “Yeah…”

He recomposes himself and points at the stove, “Sorry, dad had to work and I, uh- I was tryna make you breakfast.”

You bite back a grin and walk forward to the stove, turning the burner down. The extra grease popping ceases, it now only softly bubbling around the bacon.

“You just had the temperature too high.”

Nate chuckles, “I didn’t know you were a little chef.”

“Oh no, I just had to learn to fend for myself.” You match his laugh, pausing at your own words. “Um, sorry I slept so late. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep last night.”

“You’re good.” Nate shakes his head, “I know you were probably tired from the flight, different time zones and whatever.” You nod in agreement before he continues, “If you want, you can go shower and do what you need to do while I finish this. Just make yourself at home, it’s yours too.”

A warm smile graces your lips as you nod once again, “Yeah, okay.”

You turn on your heels, heading back to the stairs. You look back once more, watching Nate bounce all over the kitchen, and laugh to yourself at how he’s still the same as he was. Quickly you head upstairs, in desperate need of a shower to help wake you up and relax you.

Entering your bedroom, you go straight for your bags. You pull out everything you need in order to get ready for the day — a towel, washcloth, toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and a simple outfit to wear. After gathering all of your little supplies, you head to the bathroom.

Flicking the light on and shutting yourself in, you move to lay everything out on the counter. You place your washes in the shower, turning the hot water on. As you wait for it to heat up, you hang your towels on the shower rack, and begin to brush your teeth.

Once you finish, you strip from your clothes, and step into the scalding hot water. A content sigh falls from your lips as the water pellets continuously rain down on you. You run your hands through your hair, letting it soak up the water.

You find yourself staring off into space, your thoughts consumed by this new life you have to readjust to. You've wanted it back for so long, and now that you have it, you don't know what to do with it. You feel unsure of what's to come, the looming anxiety paired with an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. You just hope your family can help you navigate these new adventures ahead of you.

Snapping out of your thoughtful trance with bright red, and tender skin, you proceed to wash yourself up like you intended to. Having spent quite some time just staring off, you rush to finish cleansing yourself.

After you're done, you shut the water off and begin to dry off. Stepping out of the shower, you wrap the towel around your hair and move to the sink. You begin brushing your teeth while you air dry before getting dressed. Shaking your hair out, you hang your towel to dry, then make your way back downstairs.

"About time." Nate calls, "I was beginning to think you got on another flight without saying goodbye."

Your face droops, guilt taking over your expression as you stare at him.

His smile falls, "Too soon? I'm sorry."

You muster up a half smile and shake your head, "You're good, just wasn't expecting that."

You sit across from him at the table, both of you having a plate of breakfast in front of you. You notice a cup beside your food and look in it, eyeing its contents.

"It's tea. You still like tea, don't you?"

You grin, "Love it."

His face mirrors yours, and the two of you dig in. Your chewing falters for a moment, and you suddenly realize you should've waited until you finished eating to brush your teeth. Taking his thoughtfulness into consideration, you push past the bitter taste and continue chowing.

"Can I ask you something?" Nate breaks the silence.

You nod.

"What was it like?"

You figured he would hit you with that question sooner or later, but for some reason you're unprepared to answer it. You set your fork down and place your hands on the table as your stare at him.

"Uh," You pause, "It sucked. Mom was — I don't know. It just sucked."

He hesitantly nods. You can see that he has more questions, but he lets them go. There used to be a safe space between the two of you. You never had to worry about overstepping boundaries and swallowing your curiosity. You want that back.

"If you have something to say or ask, go ahead." You offer.

His eyes light up and he takes a moment to think. "Um, I-I just want to say that we know it wasn't your fault. Despite not seeing you for over a decade, I know how you are. It was hard for us, so I can only imagine how it was for you. We don't blame you for it. And if you ever wanna talk about it, I'm always here."

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders as you swallow the lump in your throat. You needed that. You needed to hear him say that he knows it wasn't your fault, because even though it wasn't, you were worried they would blame you.

"Best little brother in the world." You smile.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "What do you want to do today?"

"I have no idea." You admit with a laugh as you shrug, "Definitely wanna unpack, and maybe go shopping for new things. I only brought my essentials with me."

He nods, "We can do that."

The two of you finish your breakfast over small talk. Nate says he'll clean up while you start on your room, so you head up there.

You immediately pull your small speaker out, connecting your phone to it to play music. Getting started; you move all of your clothes into your dresser. You have a few perfumes and lotions that you place on top. A few pairs of shoes, you place in your closet. After emptying all of your bags, you're left with your journals.

Shortly after the move, you started going to therapy to help cope with things. Your therapist recommended that you write every day, even about the littlest of things. So, you did. Every single day, even when you didn't feel up to it, you made sure to jot down at least something — your feelings, what you did during the day, things you wish to do, etc.

Setting them in the drawer of your nightstand, you move onto your old belongings from when you were just a little girl. You gather the majority of everything, placing it all into several piles. You find yourself smiling at the memories resurfacing from going through it all. Oh, how badly you wish you could just go back.

"Hey." Nate's voice sounds from the doorway. "I brought this."

He holds up what looks to be a photo album. You meet him at your bed, both of you taking a seat as he sets it in between both of you.

"I figured maybe you would want to see some of this."

You eagerly nod, letting him open the album for the two of you to go through it. You find yourself smiling fondly at the old pictures of you guys as a family. There are pictures of you and your dad, you and Nate, Nate and your dad. You can't help but notice that your mother is nowhere to be seen in any of the pictures.

Nate seems to notice your confusion, and elaborates, "So, dad took them all out. It was hard for him; he was really mad at her. We still have them, I'm pretty sure they're just packed away in the garage with the rest of her stuff."

You nod, understanding that things had to have been difficult. You continue to go through the pictures, laughing together and commenting on every memory. However, soon enough, you're also nowhere to be found.

Your smile soon fades as you go through the pictures of your dad and Nate. From Halloween to baseball games, to dad teaching him how to golf. You even see a picture of Nate at graduation, and it brings a grave feeling to your gut. You've missed out on so much, and there's no getting it back.

Swallowing the pain, you point to a group photo of people you don't recognize. "Who are they?"

"They are my best friends." Nate smiles brightly. "They're triplets. That's Nick, Matt, and Chris. I met them in middle school, we played hockey together."

"Triplets, huh?" You say, "That's a new one."

"Yeah, they're amazing. Never a dull moment with them, that's for sure. They're pretty wild to be honest."

You give him a smile, "That's good. I'm glad you have good friends; you guys seem like you have a good relationship."

"It's awesome." He nods in agreement, "Actually, they want to meet you."

"Me?" You question, incredulously. "They know about me?"

"Really?" Nate gapes, "Of course they know about you. You're my sister, and they're my best friends. I talk about you nonstop."

Unable to help yourself, you're leaning over to pull him into a hug. He's always been the sweetest. He knows exactly what to say almost all the time.

"So, are you down?" He asks as you both part from the hug.

Your eyes widen, "Right now?"

He shrugs with a grin, "Yeah, why not?"

"O-okay." You agree, mirroring his shrug.

He pulls out his phone to presumably text them and have them come over. The two of you go downstairs before he leads you to the backdoor.

"They usually just come straight to the back, so we can just hangout out here if that's cool with you."

You hum in approval, already making your way around the backyard. Nate props his phone up against a flowerpot, running out into the yard with you.

"My sister's back!" He cheers, jumping on your back.

You stumble a bit, caught off guard, laughter pouring out of you as you quickly catch him. You turn towards his phone, a giant smile on your face. You're filled with a happiness you haven't felt in so long.

"I'm back." You copy, giving the camera a thumbs up.

He slides off of your back, picking you up and twirling you around. You let out a small yelp, joyous sounds floating in the air from the both of you. The two of you throw your arms up, cheering like maniacs, just like old times.

Your movement halts as you hear a car pull over the gravel in the driveway. Several car doors open and shut, before quick footsteps make their way to the back gate.

You're suddenly extremely nervous, bringing your hands together in front of you. Your breath catches in your throat when you see a hand reach over to pull the latch. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of your next move. Your heart races in your chest, and it's confusing to you. You're just meeting your brother's friends; it should never be this serious. But for some reason, as you listen to the creaky hinges swing the door open, you're met with a wave of undeniable tension.

—

a/n : sort of a lil cliffhangerrr lol. gotta keep yall on your toes :-)

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @chrissfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @strnlsblog @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita @junnniiieee07 @pepsienthusiasts @gamermattsgf @cupidsword @iloveneilperry @matt444nixi @sturniololol @evieolo @dlyansworld @luv2matt @nmegamett20 @angelic-sturniolos111 @stasiesturn @zivall @similartokayyz @fratbrochrisgf @ifilwtmfc

[hannie-dul-set]

나비 / NABI — ONE.

SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, alcohol consumption, rumors as a plot device, mentions of sex, a few minor injuries. WORD COUNT. 9k (out of 40k).

NOTE. hehe...it’s here. this first part is a little short and slow, but things are gonna start picking up from here! please let me know what you think so far 😭😭 half my soul was injected into writing the entirety of this i will never be the same again 💔 also, i recommend listening to beomgyu’s covers while reading this and the upcoming chapters HAHA anyhow, please enjoy!

모기 / MOGI — ONE — TWO — THREE

YOU STILL DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. Ever since you and he reconciled and publicly became friends again, your life has never known quiet— all thanks to the countless insects constantly buzzing around him, and by consequence around you, every damn day. And it’s not like you can keep avoiding him. Choi Beomgyu has made the executive decision to take advantage of the guilt you’ve been feeling, so for the past month, you’ve been a slave to his whims. 

Responding to 3AM ice cream runs even though you’re swamped with assignments. Going to parties hosted by people you don’t know the fucking names of because he keeps calling you a boring loser. And, the cherry on top, having to deal with Lee Heeseung’s even more annoying presence, just like how you’d predicted he’d behave if he ever finds out you and Beomgyu are friends.

Which he did. Much to your despair and agony.

“Beomgyu, your girlfriend’s here to see you.”

Case in point. You spare him nothing but an eye roll when he lets you in the clubroom of the, ahem, coding club. You’re here because Beomgyu texted you to fetch him a matcha latte and since you’re playing as his slave at the moment (and until your patience runs out), you obliged out of the kindness of your heart, only to get a truckload of teasing in return.

“Oh, hey, what’s up,” Yeonjun throws you a peace sign from their worn out sofa by the door the moment you enter. He’s accompanied by a good number of chip bags on the cushions.

“Hey,” Hanbin greets you as well when you pass by their alleged meeting table. Which, by the way, has stacks of leftover takeout containers and some empty, some half-empty plastic jugs of water. “Beomgyu is on the computer.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. This clubroom is a fucking gremlin hole.

“You know what.” Your path towards Choi Beomgyu is interrupted by Hyunjin, suddenly popping out of the half-wall separating the lounge area from the computers at the back. You jump, because what the fuck? “My heart races everytime you come here. I still get flashbacks from the day you threatened to wreck our safe haven. I think you gave me PTSD.”

Ah, yes. That day. That was eventful. It was the first time you’ve seen Choi Beomgyu cry.

“Serves you right, gossip snorter,” you say. “Out of the way, I have business to deal with.”

Hyunjin indeed gets out of your way, and there he reveals a row of four computers lined up against the wall with their assigned nerds mashing on the keyboards and yelling profanities at matching game screens. You zero in on the one on the far left corner. Surprisingly, Beomgyu is relatively calm compared to the others. You tap on his shoulder. He turns his head around.

“Oh,” he says, pulling his office chair back from out of the desk with a swivel while removing the headphones from his ears and letting them rest around his neck. You notice Jeongin seated beside him, who looks up at you only for a moment only to flinch back to the screen. “You’re here?”

No, shit. You jangle the latte in front of his face, head cocked, and he reaches out for it. But then you quickly jerk back your hand before he can snatch it from you. “Nuh-uh. Pay up.”

“Tch,” Beomgyu clicks his tongue and shoots you a bitter look. “Hyung, can you toss me my jacket?”

Someone from behind does indeed toss him his jacket, and at that very moment as well, Heeseung decides that it’s a great time to indulge in his newly founded hobby. “Hey, how about me? Why didn’t you get me a drink?” He joins the already crowded crevice in the back and swings an arm around your shoulder. “You get a boyfriend and forget all your friends. Have you forgotten that you two got together because of me? I’m hurt, I’m so hurt.”

Your face scrunches up. “Literally, how many times do I have to tell you he’s not my boyfriend.” You elbow Heeseung off, eliciting another whine from him. When your eyes snap back at Beomgyu, you see that he’s preoccupied with going through wallet. You kick his chair. “Say something, dipshit.”

Beomgyu hands you a bill and exchanges it with the matcha latte. You wait for him to speak. He takes a long sip, pulls his face away from the straw with a grimace, hands back the drink to you, then says, “What she said.”

You look at him, drink now back in your hands.

“What the fuck?”

“Keep it,” he says, putting his headphones back on. “Don’t you have class?”

Your jaw clenches. Fucker made you run an errand for nothing. He gives you an asshat smile of goodbye then spins his chair back to his computer. You scoff and smack the back of his head, causing his headphones to slip off. “Bye.”

“Hey!”

“Later,” Heeseung bids you off, and it’s followed by a chorus of goodbyes from the inhabitants of the testosterone infested, stinky gamer cave. Seriously, every time you drop by here, you feel an ounce of your soul shriveling up and rotting away. Yeonjun very politely opens the door for you. You hear one of them yell out before you leave.

“Come over tomorrow. Hanbin hyung’s treating us to pizza!”

And with that, you’re finally free, matcha latte in hand and a desire to breathe in some fresh air because you’re pretty sure the air is polluted in there. But still. It’s been a lot easier to breathe recently than when you two weren’t on good terms.

“Saved you a seat.”

You make it to class two minutes before the schedule. Minjeong proudly taps on the seat next to her, and you take the invitation. “As you should,” you hum, taking out your notes from your bag, and not long after Sungchan arrives and lands on the spot next to you.

It’s the week before finals. Prof Shin starts the class and decides to fuck all of your study schedules by giving a last minute assignment due next week as well. 

“Does this guy want to give us depression before the summer or some shit?” Minjeong complains the moment your professor leaves the lecture hall.“I swear to god, if another prof gives us an assignment due over the break, I’m killing myself.”

“You two have plans over the break?” asks Sungchan, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and the three of you head out for lunch, funneling out into the hallway along with the rest of your blockmates.

“I’m going home,” says Minjeong.

“I have summer classes,” you answer.

Sungchan stops in his tracks. “You serious?” 

“Yup.”

“You bet on it.”

He looks at the both of you like you’re a bunch of withering old ladies and he’s very much unimpressed. “Make some time for the last week. I’m throwing the wildest summer rager and you two can’t miss it.”

You’re pretty sure you replied with something along the lines of an agreement, but you’re not quite sure. The thought completely slips out of your head throughout the next week because, well, finals. And before you know it, your first semester of uni comes to a close, and summer comes crashing in at full swing.

#1: YOU STILL DON’T LIKE HIM FOR WASTING SO MUCH OF YOUR TIME. It’s eight in the morning. Monday. You’re standing in front of Choi Beomgyu’s door.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s the start of your summer semester so you thought you ought to make something healthy just to kick things off on a good note, but as you were scavenging ingredients for fried rice, you realized you were out of salt so that’s why you’re here. You knock on his door again, three times, and you manage to finish watching five more Instagram reel clips before Beomgyu finally answers the door.

Creak.

“Took you long eno—”

You’re caught off guard by the mop of shaggy hair greeting you, clearly having just woken up. His eyebrows are knitted together while he lets out a yawn. He’s in a tank top. It rides up a little when he stretches his arm to reach for an itch on his back.

“What?” he rasps with a grunt, squinting at you after he’s finally settled himself into reality. “Why the hell are you up so early?”

You clear your throat. “Got any salt?”

Beomgyu blinks at you, processing your words. Then he steps back, points a thumb towards his kitchen, and nudges his head in the same direction. “Go crazy.”

With that, Beomgyu lets you monopolize his kitchen cupboards while he flops onto the sofa. You laugh seeing him practically melt into the cushions. He’s never been a morning person. You’re pretty sure he fell asleep like three hours ago.

“I’m gonna steal some of your chives too,” you inform. Beomgyu makes a muffled noise that you assume is a yes, so you go ahead and take the liberty. When you pop out of his kitchen area, you see him in a not very spine-healthy posture on the same sofa while scrolling through his phone. “I’ll drop off some bokkeumbap later.”

Beomgyu’s eyes flit up from his phone and he wiggles into a more normal position. “Do you have plans today?”

“Class,” you answer on your way back out.

“It’s summer?” he says. “Did your dumb ass get your calendars mixed up?”

You roll your eyes, stopping right before the door with your hand on the knob and turn your head to face him. “I thought I could use the early credits so I won’t have to take too many classes in my fourth year. So I could focus on my internship and all.”

There’s a pause. You can see the three dots slowly appearing in succession above Beomgyu’s bedhead. “Oh,” he says. There’s a drop in his voice. Only for a second. “Well, have fun, nerd.”

You stick your tongue out and leave his apartment with your borrowed goods, returning once more after you’ve finished cooking to give him a portion. Honestly, without the food your moms send over, you’re pretty sure he’d be living exclusively off of takeout.

Anyhow, you head to campus for your first summer lecture, and— for the first time god knows how long— your entire day is spent with a lingering, and almost unusual echo of quiet.

“That’s it for our syllabus. We’ll be starting our full swing of classes next week. See you.”

When you exit the lecture hall, the hallway is near empty. The courtyard too, with only a few students littered about underneath the midday sun. It’s so quiet, it’s weird. Around this time, you’d usually be having lunch with Sungchan and Minjeong, sometimes Beomgyu, sometimes Heeseung, but that brat’s not around right now either because he’s on vacation. 

Not having anything to do, you decide to stop by the campus cafe— Horangnabi. You don’t go here often, committed to the shop near your apartment because, well, it’s more convenient for your morning coffees, but you weren’t able to grab one earlier since you cooked breakfast. Might as well get a latte before you leave campus.

“Hi, welcome!”

You’re greeted by the barista, and like most of campus, it’s pretty empty inside as well. "A spanish latte, please. Iced.” While making your order, a sign on the counter catches your eye.

Part-timers, now hiring. You blink, letting it settle for a moment. Maybe for too long of a moment, because the whir of the milk frother snaps back your attention. 

“Are you interested?” 

The barista slides you your drink over the counter with a smile. You take it and press your lips together in a moment of thought. 

You only have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and it’s too inconvenient, not to mention expensive to go home, back and forth from Seoul to Daegu and vice versa, on the days in between. Most of your friends are on vacation or went back to their hometowns over the break so you have no one to hang out with over the summer. And you could use the extra money.

“I don’t have any experience, though,” you tell her.

“That’s fine. You’ll get a few days of training,” she answers.

Tempting. You’re almost convinced. “What if I just want to work for the summer? Can I quit when the next semester starts?”

“A lot of students do that,” she hums. You see her take a square of tissue paper from the display, jotting down a series of numbers before sliding it over to you as well. “Julie. Call me if you wanna take the bait.”

You spare one more second to ponder. Then you take the number from under her fingers and carefully stuff it into your pocket. “Thanks.”

The heat has finally settled the moment you exit the cafe, a little bell jingle trailing you from behind, and you take a mental note to bring an umbrella with you from this day forward. Their coffee is good, you have to admit. If you work there for a good month or two, maybe you’d even end up saving cash by making your own drinks instead of having to buy them.

You decide to take the path through the parking lot to make your exit. There’s more trees around, meaning more shade because it’s really freaking hot. It’s very bare in the lot. You pass by a few cars, of which you assume belong to faculty and staff, until one of them honks at you, and you flinch to a halt.

Another honk. Your brows furrow. Looking around, you try to find the culprit, but you end up moving your head in just the right direction for the sun to beam its light directly into your eyes, blinding you temporarily, and you wince. God damn it. You hear another honk again, and you feel yourself start to get irritated. It’s coming from behind you. You spin your heels, vision still muddy from the direct sun attack, but nevertheless you start walking.

“Seriously, who the hell keeps fucking— oh!”

You bump into someone. You feel them balance you by your shoulders.

“You should’ve seen how dumb you looked.” You hear a snicker. Of fucking course, it’s Choi Beomgyu. Who else would it be? “But hey, you make a pretty good pigeon jerking your head around like that.”

“Fuck you,” you jab his arms off. “What are you even doing here?”

Beomgyu notices your coffee and takes a shameless sip from it before answering, “Get in the car. It’s so freaking hot out, jesus.” 

You don’t really have a choice because he practically shoves you into the passenger’s seat. So gentle. You nearly spill your drink all over when your ass lands on the leather cushion. 

“I was just about to sleep again after you dropped off the food earlier,” he explains while starting the car, and you watch him intently. Whenever your schedules matched, you’d sometimes go to and from uni together. But you can’t seem to get used to the image of your friend acting like a responsible adult. It’s fucking with you a bit. “But then I got a message from Prof Kim, asking if I could come by the office today.”

He pulls out of the parking lot, and the cool air finally settles into your skin. “For what?” Beomgyu lets out a groan. Must’ve been for a not great reason.

“The EMC department is hosting a conference of some sorts this year and he asked if I could be a volunteer facilitator, ask a few others from the department to help and join along too.”

“Oh? You gonna do it?”

“Ugh. I don’t know.” You pass through security out the main gate and start heading back to your apartment. “I wanted to come home over the break but the working days for this thing will apparently last throughout the summer. Prof Kim did say this will be minused from my volunteer hours, but I don’t know.” Beomgyu then gives you a side eye all of a sudden. “Speaking of. You undutiful daughter.”

“What?” you leer.

“Your mom hoped that you’d be home for the summer, too. Why didn’t you ask her first before enrolling for summer classes?”

“Why the hell do you two keep talking about me behind my back?” You’re shriveling up. Seriously, why does your mom contact him before you? This is getting ridiculous. “And I’m doing all this so I can graduate early and find a job early, by the way. I don’t even have a full week of classes so I can still come home the first week of July.”

Apparently, you two argued for long enough to finally reach your building. 

“Tell me when you plan on going home,” he says, leaning against the wall beside your door watching as you key in your passcode to your unit. 

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes, smiling. The door unlocks. You push it open. “You’re my free ride after all.” 

Now, your expected response from that is another retort from him, how you’ve been exploiting his kindness and whatnot and you’d have to snark back as well. But for some reason Beomgyu just stays quiet. He says nothing, an unreadable look on his face as he looks at yours. You raise a brow.

“What is it this time?”

Choi Beomgyu says nothing. He lifts up an arm, points his index finger near your face, and jabs his finger straight into your forehead.

“I’ll send you a review of your bokkeumbap later.” He laughs at your appalled expression.

“You’d be shocked to find out it’s better than my mom’s,” you say back, a hand tending to the spot he just attacked unprompted.

“You wish.”

“Eat shit.”

“Oh, I definitely will.” 

You send him a kick, which he dodges before fleeing into the safety of his apartment. Slippery bastard. Anyhow, you call it a day and settle into your own place. Few hours later, Beomgyu indeed sends you a review of your cooking with a photo of an empty dish attached. Three out of five, he says. Slippery bastard turned ungrateful bastard.

The next day, you’re at Horangnabi again. The night prior, you called Julie’s number and gave her the news that you’re in, and she told you to come an hour before opening so they can get you settled.

You come in with a greeting, and you see Julie look up from behind the counter to wave you in with a smile. “You’re here! Hanbin, come meet our new part-timer.”

At the mention of Hanbin’s name, you immediately double take, and emerging from the door to what you assume is the storage area is indeed the Hanbin you know from the coding club. 

“You!” you immediately shriek, almost feeling a hint of betrayal because this is the first time you’ve seen him in daylight, because their clubroom is always so fucking dark. And in something other than the god damned flannels everyone in their club is always so fond of wearing like it’s an unspoken uniform. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, so it is you!” Hanbin happily exclaims. “I thought it was just someone with the same name.”

Julie was delighted to find out you two already knew each other. You skip all the necessary introductions and jump in head first into getting acquainted with the equipment instead.

“We’ll go through all of the drinks first. I also have the recipes printed out over here in case you need reference.”

Having a familiar face in an unfamiliar workplace is indeed a pleasant surprise, but there’s also a familiar sense of dread to have one of Beomgyu’s coding club buddies in here. Granted, he doesn’t annoy or tease you as much as the others, but those guys have already given themselves a label in your head, and Sung Hanbin is no exception to your collective bad impression.

“And then you twist the handle— just like that.”

You’re in the middle of your first latte, the espresso machine up and running. After which, Hanbin teaches you how to use the milk steamer without any difficulty, and you pour the milk into the same cup as the espresso you made earlier. “Wow,” Hanbin remarks. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“I think it’s all thanks to the caffeine I’ve ingested,” you say. “Skill buff. Or whatever you guys say.”

Hanbin laughs and compliments your latte once more. Needless to say, it doesn’t take long for your discomfort to completely disappear because at this point in time, Beomgyu’s friends would already start asking you about him— where he is, why isn’t he with you, etcetera etcetera. But his name has not left Hanbin’s mouth even once, and it’s already the end of your first day.

“It’s always slow here, except on rare occasions, so you’ll be able to handle it with no problems,” Julie says before sending you off. “Anyway, Hanbin and I will be around during your shifts, so you can run to us in case a particularly grumpy student comes to order.”

Hanbin gives you a thumbs up and a bright grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

And that’s how you established your new routine for the rest of the summer. It’s just like Julie said. Things are pretty slow. The only notable thing that happened on your second day at work is Beomgyu sending you a very unflattering, low-angle selfie under the blinding lights of the faculty office glaring behind his head with the text message that he said yes to volunteering for the conference. Sad face emoji included. 

On Thursday, Julie taught you how to make a damn good waffle. On Monday next week, you got your first shitty customer. Finally on Friday, you decided to open your skeleton closet to Hanbin, because not once since your a little over a week of working here has he asked you about the whereabouts of Choi Beomgyu.

“You and Beomgyu are friends right?”

There aren’t any customers except for the regulars from Bio that are almost always found in the corner of the cafe until closing. Hanbin is wiping the already squeaky clean counter because there is nothing to do. “Yes?” he answers, a smile on his face, but with a tone that’s evidently confused. “So are you?”

Christ. Now you’re the one bringing that bastard up. “Right. It’s just a little odd.” There, you bring up what you’ve observed so far since working here, and the fact that you and him have shared actual conversations not involving your old friend, and how it’s pretty surprising to you. “One time, I thought someone was going to confess to me. Turns out he just wanted me to convince Beomgyu to help him rank up in League.”

“Well, I don’t really need any help in that area.” Hanbin laughs, shaking his head. “Sounds like you and him have been friends for a long time.”

Neither of you have told anyone about your history. No reason in particular. Beomgyu just never found the need to tell his friends that you’ve known each other from birth, and neither have you. But Hanbin’s presence, when separated from the rest of his friends, just feels like a blanket of comfort, and you find yourself spilling your guts to him— including the previous three to four month cold war you caused and the reasons.

Hanbin is patient. He listens the entire time with an attentiveness you can only compare to a saint. “I guess being a social butterfly has its unintentional consequences. I’m just happy to hear you two made up.”

“I probably would never regularly step foot in your dungeon hole otherwise.”

He laughs. “The guys in the club also tease you a lot, don’t they? Doesn’t it bother you?”

You press your lips together. “Yeah, but at this point it’s just white noise to me now.”

Hanbin looks at you. “That doesn’t mean you enjoy it either.”

Well. He’s not wrong. 

Your conversation gets cut short with the cafe bell signaling the entrance of customers. You look at the door. It’s a whole stampede of people. It’s Choi Beomgyu and his friends and you can’t even go on a day of talking about them without them showing up.

“Whoa, I’ve never been here before.”

“Dude, you’re in your third year. Where the hell have you been?”

“Doesn’t Hanbin hyung work here—”

“Yeah, let’s ask him to give us free cookies.”

“Hyunjin, buy me a drink.”

“Buy your own drink, nerd.”

“Hi, I’ll have an iced americano, and a— o-oh, my god.”

You’re face to face with Yang Jeongin who nearly pisses himself upon the recognition that it’s you behind the corner. It dominoes to the rest of the group. You don’t know why they’re being so dramatic. You let out a huff and a sigh. “An iced americano and…?” 

Jeongin doesn’t get to answer. Beomgyu unwedges himself from the group and squeezes his way to the counter. “You work here now?” 

You cock a brow. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Since when?” he immediately follows up. You’re a little taken aback.

“Since last Tuesday,” you answer after recounting. Beomgyu makes a face that burrows a pit in your stomach.

“You didn’t tell me.”

Okay. Now you’re very taken aback. There’s a cough from the crowd. And then a very intuitive, not-so-hushed remark from one of the boys. “Holy shit. They’re having a lovers’ quarrel.”

It hits a nerve. Hanbin quickly dissuades anything before you could open your mouth. “So, what are you guys ordering?”

The amount of drinks to make and pastries to bring out gets you busy for a while, but you still keep an eye on Beomgyu, watching as he settles back to normal joking mode with his friends while you try to find an opening to talk to him. You and Hanbin finish making all their orders, so you ask him if you can be excused for a moment. He tells you to go ahead and you make your way to Beomgyu, who’s sitting on one of the ends of the three conjoined tables in the more spacious corner of the store.

He’s talking to Yeonjun. When Yeonjun notices you approaching, he immediately quiets down, so you take this as permission to interrupt. You tap on Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Hey.” He turns around and looks up. “You good?”

Beomgyu opens his mouth, about to say something— “Ahem,” — but then Yeonjun clears his throat, accidentally catching the attention of the rest of the boys, and they’re suddenly popping out their heads like meerkats in your direction. “Should I give you two some space?”

“What’s going on?”

“They’re having a moment.”

“Oh my god.”

“Do you guys sell popcorn?”

You’re used to their teasing. You’re used to their bullshit, really. You’re fine if they pull on your hair strands inside their clubroom, but for fuck’s sake this is a public space. Heeseung isn’t even around, but it seems like all his clubmates caught his disease. Your bio regulars are sneaking a few glances at the commotion. There are other customers too. You’re visibly annoyed and embarrassed— which doesn’t go over Beomgyu’s head, because he notices. And he also looked like he’s getting irritated. 

“Hey, you two should just apologize and make up!”

Beomgyu gets up. You see his jaw clench. Oh no. You quickly grab his arm with a tug before he can do anything— only for Hanbin to show up with a tray, setting it down on their table in a less than gentle manner. They flinch. They shut up. Hanbin sets down a few plates with a chilling smile.

“We don’t have popcorn, but here are your fries,” he says. Wow. “Do you guys want to add anything else?”

There’s a single squeak from the group. “No, we’re good.”

Hanbin hums in acknowledgement and retrieves the tray from the table— not without sending you a thumbs up, to which you mouth a thank you in return. He smiles and nods before going back to the counter, and there you feel Beomgyu removing your hold on his arm from a while ago, and you quickly flit your attention back to him, fearing that you might’ve upset him. Again. Like last time.

“Wait—”

“Are you trying to slack off?” he jeers. You look at him, a little surprised. Beomgyu nudges his head to the counter and you see a few customers filtering in. He did remove your hand from his arm, but he’s still holding it. “I’m not upset because you didn’t tell me you started working here. Well. I was. A bit. But not anymore.”

You feel his thumb run through your knuckles, going over the bumps of each joint, followed by a gentle squeeze.

“It must’ve been heaven for you to get some peace and quiet for once. But then I had to bring these losers around,” he wrinkles his nose. You feel a load get off of your chest. Beomgyu lets go of your hand. “If you told me beforehand, I would’ve steered them away from here.”

“Well it’s fine as long as they don’t cause a scene.” You say the last part a little bit louder than conversational-volume. From the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin cough on his fry. “Anyway, I gotta get back to work.”

“No shit. Go do what you’re paid for, slacker.”

He lands a smack on your back and you’re pushed off to do your job. Gosh. Hanbin welcomes you back to the station and the both of you are kept busy for the time being, up until late afternoon strikes, and Beomgyu says he can’t drive you home today since they’re still needed back at the faculty office.

“Your girlfriend can get home just fine! Prof Kim’s looking for us, hurry—”

And just like that, he gets lugged out of the cafe. Jeongin laments about returning to “printing hell,” whatever he means by that, and the walls of Horangnabi are once again returned to their original state— peace and quiet.

The bell jingles. You hear nothing but the metronomic melody from the speakers. “Your friends are so draining,” you tell Hanbin.

He just laughs. “They’re quite energetic.”

You should’ve appreciated the serenity and calmness of your first couple of days working here because for the next few weeks, the coding club has decided that the campus cafe is going to be their regular hangout spot from now on. Or until their summer volunteer work finally ends.

“You know, you’re so pretty.”

It’s the end of June now. You’re wiping off some spilled milk from the counter when Julie suddenly decides to dote on you. She’s on the other side of the counter, face between her palms, and your wiping stops, face flushed.

“I—I’m sorry?”

“You’re like the prettiest flower in a garden and I’d fend off all the other bees and butterflies just to have you for myself,” she doubles down. You release a laugh, mildly forced because holy shit, this is a new kind of attention. “No wonder you have all these guys buzzing around you all the time.”

Julie thumb-points at the corner the coding club guys usually occupy. You hear Hyunjin losing his shit over something—

“I think he’s the one they keep buzzing around, seonbae.”

—something Choi Beomgyu very likely said considering the grin he has on his face, and how Yeonjun is also collapsing on his shoulders. You watch as his grin disappears into a cup, taking a sip from the lime soda he ordered. Then he notices you staring. He settles down the drink and gets up. 

“Oh no, he’s coming over.”

“What?” he says after reaching the counter, taking the spot next to Julie. “Are you talking shit about me again?”

“Hey, not everything is about you, insect,” answers Julie. Those two have gotten pretty close too. “I was talking about how pretty our new barista is. She’s a breath of fresh air. A rose among the truckload of weeds sullying the pretty interiors of our dear cafe.”

Beomgyu snorts at the comparison. You give him the stink eye.

“I get what she means,” Hanbin slides into conversation. He hums and passes you the milkshake Jeongin ordered. It’s still missing the whipped cream on top. You fetch a container from the fridge and walk back to your station, only to be met by a sudden debate on what kind of flower you are now.

“No, no. She’s not a rose,” you hear Yeonjun interject. “Appearance wise, she’s like a daffodil. Personality wise, she’s a venus flytrap.” A few of them chortle and laugh. You roll your eyes and start shaking the container.

“You’re wrong, she’s a hydrangea!”

“Aren’t they poisonous?”

“Exactly.”

A few more give their pitches. Honestly, you’re pretty impressed by the amount of knowledge these gamer gremlin boys have. You finish Jeongin’s milkshake and give it back to Hanbin for delivery. Beomgyu is quiet throughout the whole debacle, until Hyunjin eggs him on to give his pitch. They need to hear the expert’s verdict, he says. Beomgyu just brushes them off until he notices you looking at him expectantly. He pauses. He’s actually thinking about it. You’re pleasantly surprised at his sudden thoughtfulness— that is, of course, until he actually opens his freaking mouth.

“You’re a milkweed.”

It’s like a ball gets punted into your head. It bounces off and lands on the ground. You hear a wheeze from the boys. You give Beomgyu the middle finger.

“A weed! Not even a flower!”

“Hey, they are flowers! Go look it up!”

Beomgyu can’t redeem himself anymore. You’re already looking at him with bitter disgust and Julie proceeds to call him a piece of shit.

“It really is a flower!” 

He still defends, pleading his case to you even after the topic has shifted. Julie has left to clean up some tables. Beomgyu remains in his spot on the other side of the counter until you decide to believe him and his alleged substantial botanical knowledge. 

“Sure, whatever,” you deride. Beomgyu is still pouty. “Anyway, your conference thingy is this weekend, right? We’re going home right after?”

“Yeah,” he says, still sounding a little bitter and you bite down a laugh. His eyes flutter down, noticing something on your chin, and offhandedly wipes off what you assume is some stray whipped cream from earlier with his thumb. “Do you wanna leave in the morning or afternoon?”

“Oooooh.”

Lee Heeseung suddenly rears his head near the counter to return their empty plates. He’s back from vacation and now he’s here to reclaim his rightful spot as your number one annoyance. “Get a room,” he says with a shit eating grin that you want to wipe the floor with.

“Why’d you even come back early?” you leer at him. “Weren’t you supposed to be island hopping until the end of July?”

He sticks his tongue out. Beomgyu just laughs. “I can’t miss Sungchan’s party. You’re going, right?”

Right. The alleged wildest, most epic summer rager Jung Sungchan mentioned before parting ways with you and Minjeong over vacation. He texted you about it again last night. You couldn’t leave him on read because he called you immediately after.

“Unfortunately,” you lament. “Sungchan’s gonna throw a tantrum if I don’t show up.”

“You know Sungchan?” Beomgyu suddenly asks. 

You give him a pointed look. “Duh, obviously. We’re in the same major.”

It’s like a lightbulb materializes on the top of his head. “Ah,” he says. “I forgot you had other friends.”

You quickly retaliate by attacking him with the nearest thing you can get your hands on: a dish towel. He lets out a very fake, very dramatic yelp of pain and tells on you to Julie noona for abusing your customers and that you should be fired. 

“You’re no customer, you termite.”

“Ack! Noona! She’s hitting me again!”

“Is this how the youngins flirt nowadays?”

Both of you freeze in frame— him trying to yank your weapon from your hands and you with an arm up ready to throw a punch— and turn your heads towards Heeseung, who has a very smug smile playing on his face. You shoot Beomgyu a glare before roughly tugging the dish towel from his grasp. “Shut your mouth, Hee. How’s it going with your compsci girlie, anyway. You’ve stopped bragging since last month.”

Heeseung’s smile stiffens. He breathes out a ‘haha,’ before starting to turn away. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Serves him right. After a while you routinely bid them good riddance since they have to leave for volunteer work again. The weekend comes rolling, they finish the conference, and, with summer vacation coming to a close, you also bid your part-time job here at Horangnabi farewell as well after two-months of service. 

“It’s not like she’s never coming back here,” Beomgyu huffs. You two decided to stop by before leaving off to your hometown, Monday after their conference. Julie refuses to stop squeezing you. Beomgyu tugs on your shirt sleeve, but you don’t budge. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Coming from the guy who’s spending the entire week with her,” Julie spits back. “You better bring her back here in one piece, you bug.”

Choi Beomgyu succeeds in retrieving you this time. The container carrying two cups of coffee swings in your hand as an arm hooks around your neck, tipping you back, and the top of your skull hits Beomgyu’s chin.

“Hanbin, we’re heading out.”

“Drive safe!”

You’re only spending a little over a week in Daegu. You two still need to come back to Seoul in time for Jung Sungchan’s, cough, epic summer rager. He hasn’t missed a day in reminding you about it. You’re out for a joint-family dinner with Choi Beomgyu and his family and your phone buzzes only to see Sungchan’s text saying [three days. i better see you there 🫵🫵🫵]. 

“Your classes don’t even start until September.”

It’s the third week of August. Your mom decides to walk you to Beomgy’s car. “I still need to enroll and register for my classes,” you tell her. “I’ll call you when I arrive.” You pause. “And if you want to know what I’m up to, just ask me directly for god’s sake. Quit asking that guy.”

That guy wrinkles his nose at you. “Auntie, don’t listen to her. She’s just being jealous.”

“Wait until I tell your mom about how you nearly set fire to your kitchen.”

“Say a single word and I’m never letting you in my car anymore.”

Jung Sungchan’s party is at their vacation home in Eunpyeong District because his parents aren’t in the country. There’s a pool (gross). He promised you and Minjeong exclusive room access to escape to in case of emergencies (nice). It’s late afternoon. Beomgyu is already there because, well, he’s Choi Beomgyu and everyone’s obsessed with him. You’re still at Minjeong’s apartment, getting ready and borrowing some of her accessories.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you guys here?” he asks over the phone. You can barely hear him with the noise in the background. “Taxi fare’s expensive.” 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Minjeong makes a face from the foot of the bed while she irons her hair. “I’ve saved up a lot of pocket money thanks to you being my personal chauffeur anyway. And Minjeong doesn’t like you. She thinks you’re a douchebag.”

“I don’t even know her!”

“Bye.” You hang up. Minjeong still has a look on her face. “What?”

“I think he’s stringing you along,” she says bitingly.

You let out a huff. “How can he string me along when I don’t even like him?” Minjeong simply says that Choi Beomgyu gives her bad vibes, whatever the fuck she means because the only vibe Beomgyu exudes is the vibe of extreme annoyance. You hop off Minjeong’s bed and change into the outfit you brought, opting to put on this very big, droopy sunhat you once bought at a flea market as extra protection. It’s stupid hot out. You steal some of Minjeong’s sunscreen as well before finally heading out.

“Did Sungchan invite everyone at uni or something?”

A foot into his gate, it’s already so crowded. Like really fucking crowded. There’s music blasting somewhere. You can’t find Sungchan anywhere in the yard so you and Minjeong squeeze your way into the house, and there you find him with Heeseung. Minjeong yells for his attention, and he spins around with a big smile. “Hey, you made it!” Sungchan hurls himself at you with a bone crushing hug. “It feels like it’s been ten years since I last saw you.”

“Quit being so dramat— ack! Tap out, tap out! I give!”

He finally releases you, and you grunt. “Here you go.” He tosses the keys to the room he promised. 

“Have fun partying.” Minjeong snatches it into her hands immediately. You scan the area for a bit. You see Hyunjin and Jeongin in the corner of the living room.

“Boo, you’re so lame,” jeers Sungchan, to which Minjeong just ignores and tugs your arm.

“How about you?” she asks.

You shift your gaze back to her. “I’ll go look for Choi Beomgyu’s round head first then hermit up there with you.” Minjeong makes a gagging noise before going off for the staircase. You’re ready to take out your phone to shoot Beomgyu a text, but you feel a sudden weight on the top of your head, so you look up, brows knitted.

“Your boyfie’s out in the back, sunshine,” Sungchan says while attempting to snatch your hat. 

“Not my fucking boyfriend.” You swat his hand away and readjust the hat on your head. “But thanks. Later.”

The thing about your longtime friend is that no matter how crowded the place, no matter how flooded an area is with people and people and people— he’s generally very easy to find. Just look for a crowd, look for bodies circling around each other and whoever is at the epicenter, at the eye of the storm, is more often than not Choi Beomgyu.

Your trick is proven to be effective this time around as well. When you leave the living room through the glass doors to the backyard, you spot him instantaneously sitting on the ledge of the other side of the pool, feet dipping into the water as he laughs along with the large group surrounding him. It’s bright out— the sun’s rays bouncing off from the water’s surface to glitter the underside of his face. Even the sun has his attention. It’s so comically ridiculous that you almost roll your eyes into a scoff. That is until you see him see you, and within a moment’s notice, he’s up on his feet and is departing from the crowd to walk up to you.

“You’re here.”

The first thing he does is swipe the sunhat from your head, adding it to his obnoxiously colored outfit: a bright pink buttoned top with neon orange flowers, the color matching the necklace he’s uncharacteristically wearing. He’s also got a pair of square framed sunglasses perched on his nose. “Is this your highlighter cosplay?” you ask, snickering. 

He shoots you a glare. “Fuck off. What took you so long, anyway? Thought you got lost or something.”

“I wish I did,” you grunt. There’s a holler and a splash from somewhere. You feel a few droplets hitting the skin of your feet. Beomgyu tugs you by the arm a little farther away from the pool. “This is way too noisy for my liking. And I thought I’ve been desensitized by you and your friends.” 

“Yeah, but—”

“Beomgyu!”

A third voice suddenly barges in from behind you. Beomgyu’s eyes leave your face for a second when you feel someone brush past your shoulders. “Hey!” Beomgyu greets back, giving who you assume is one of his friends a high five before the guy runs off again, then his gaze flits back to you. “Anyway—”

“Hey, kid, haven’t seen you in a while!”

A more familiar face shows up and greets Beomgyu with a slap on the back, once more fishing away his attention. You’ve seen him at Horangnabi before, you think. “Hyung, I’ll get to you in a sec!” he says. When Beomgyu looks at you again, his smile quickly drops into a pursed huff. “Ugh.”

You laugh. “You were saying?”

Beomgyu smacks his tongue in distaste, tugging you even further into a corner in the backyard, right next to a bush-lined fence under the shade. “I was trying to say— it’s good to get out of your comfort zone once in a while, you know. Your mother would cry tears of joy to hear that her hermit of a daughter is at a party.”

“Why do you always bring up my mother when you want to make a point?”

“Extra leverage,” he grins. “There’s drinks in the cooler. Want me to get you one?”

“Nah,” you say. “I’m gonna hole up in Sungchan’s room in about—” you check the time on your phone. “Ten minutes. Minjeong’s already in our sanctuary.”

You receive a pinch on the nose from Beomgyu for that. You try to elbow him off, and just as he’s about to say something again, you two hear his name being yelled out from somewhere in the area. “Choi Beomgyu! Pool volleyball, stat!” Beomgyu pauses, arms dropping to his sides and his shoulders slump in defeat. A single breath of wind, he’s gonna fall over.

“God fucking damn it.”

It’s very funny seeing him like this. “Off you go,” you push his limp body out of the shade, the sun hitting you both once more. Beomgyu makes a grunt of protest. “Go, butterfly, go. Your people are waiting for you.”

Beomgyu gives you a look of awful judgment, but starts unbuttoning his shirt anyway in preparation to take a dive. “You’re not gonna swim?” he asks.

“In that water?” you grimace. “Want me to catch a disease or some shit? You’re on your own, pal.”

“Drama queen,” he huffs, fully removing his shirt now and you’re like whoa there— eyes away, eyes away. A screeching voice calls from his attention. He looks behind to yell back, “Shut the fuck up, I’ll there in a minute!”

“Hand me your phone,” you tell him, holding out your hand. Beomgyu turns around, looking at you with his atrociously bright shirt hanging on his forearm. You clear your throat. “And clothes. Ask Sungchan for directions to his room to find me later.”

“You sure?” he asks, digging into his short pockets.

“Yeah. Go have your fun, loser.”

Beomgyu hums and takes your offer, handing you his phone, tossing his shirt to your face, putting your sun hat back on top of your head and making sure to ruin your hair in the process. He’s so fucking annoying. “I’ll be back after I kick their asses.”

The shirt drops from your face and falls, only to hang on your arm. “Hey. I don’t really care,” you say. Beomgyu doesn’t find that response satisfactory. He makes a face before running off, slow at first before breaking into a sprint once he’s near enough the pool, before jumping straight into the water with a loud splash!

His head emerges from the water, largely grinning with his hair sticking to his skull. It doesn’t take long for him to be swallowed by a group of people. You take this as your cue to leave.

“I know you hate it when people assume you’re dating. But seeing all that, I really can’t blame them.”

“Holy shit— Minjeong,” you jump, meeting face-to-face with your friend the moment you spin your heels. She’s got her arms crossed, looking at you like she’s massively unimpressed. “When did you get here?”

“I thought you died or something,” she shrugs. There’s a splash from the pool, you two getting hit as collateral damages and Minjeong makes a gagging noise. “I can’t believe I left home early for this mess.”

You make a noise of agreement. It’s around four right now, the number of people isn’t getting any smaller, and the music is yet to get louder. Choi Beomgyu’s shirt and phone are still on your person. Said phone buzzing incessantly in your hold. “I’ve been out here for a good ten minutes,” you say. “I think that’s enough.”

“Good call. Let’s go upstairs.”

On the way to the room, you bump into Heeseung, who ropes you in to taking two jello shots before setting you free. You also greet a few people that you know for uni here and there, but you can barely hear them over, well, everything. It’s so chaotic, you’re beginning to wonder how the hell Jung Sungchan is going to clean up the aftermath of this. Or maybe that’s why he was so desperate to have you and Minjeong over. So that you’d help him clean up. 

Minjeong seems to agree with your theory. You two key in the door to the room he gave you while cussing him out. “That bastard. Of course, he’d have ulterior motives.” The door opens. Minjeong lets herself in and immediately throws herself face-first onto the bed. “I’m gonna nap.”

“You dressed up all cutely just to sleep at a party,” you say, scanning around the room for a place to put away Beomgyu’s things. 

“Hey, my ten minutes of screentime needs to be worth it,” she replies, voice muffled by the mattress. “Night, night.”

With how pretty the interiors look, you’re pretty sure this isn’t a room Sungchan frequents. A guest bed, maybe. There’s a large window on the opposite wall revealing a vivid backyard view, sheer white curtains filtering the sun. It’s very bohemian. Tasseled rugs, rattan decor hung all around. You notice the round, wicker seat next to the bed with a patterned cushion. You toss Beomgyu’s belongings there and walk up to the window.

Peeling back the curtain, you look down to see a flood of people scattered all about the yard, muffled music and noises leaking into the cracks of the room. Choi Beomgyu is still splashing around the pool. You watch as he throws a beach ball overhead, eyes following it fly across the water, until it ultimately bounces off the pool ledge and hits someone from behind. He looks pretty happy with the stunt. You let out a huff, a tug on the corners of your mouth, and let yourself sink into the soft rug in between the bed and the windowsill, laying down.

You hear Minjeong squirming from above. Damn, she’s actually sleeping. You’d get up there and join her too, but the floor is already comfortable, and you’re already yawning, so you feel yourself starting to doze off, lulled by the distant sounds of people from the outside.

When you open your eyes again, it’s orange.

You open your phone. Almost six in the evening. The sunset leaks into the room through the sheer curtain, painting shadows on the floor as you blink and regain your consciousness.

Then you hear three sharp knocks from the other side of the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Coming.” It takes a while for you to reconnect the wires in your brain. You let out a yawn as you make your groggy steps towards the door, seeing Minjeong wedged into the upper corner of the bed in a way that’s definitely going to wrinkle her outfit. There’s a few more knocks on the door. You twist the knob open and lo and behold—

It’s Choi Beomgyu.

“Oh, thank god, I found the right room this time.”

Half-clothed. With a very evident, painful red mark on his left cheekbone.

“Holy shit. What the hell happened to you?”

You’re wide awake now. Beomgyu answers with a sheepish grin. “Well. You see. A little accident occurred.” 

He flinches back and looks away guiltily with tightly pressed lips the moment you nudge your face closer. It’s swollen. You take a step back with a sigh. “Explain,” you say, grabbing him into the room. You tip the door close with your foot and bring him to the foot of the bed, careful not to wake Minjeong up in the process.

“Some of the guys got a little too tipsy,” he starts as you sit him down onto the mattress. You kneel onto the bed stool, sinking into the loose blanket draped on the cushion just next to his outstretched legs while he continues yapping. “There was a surfboard involved. Don’t ask. But with alcohol-induced lack of coordination, and then there’s me who was by the pool ledge at the wrong place at the wrong time— I think you can get an idea of what happened.

He leans back, sinking his hands into the cushion. You dip forward. “That’s nothing to brag about.” Yeah, he’s gonna need some ice. 

“I think I bumped my head a little too.”

You feel a breath escape. He’s smiling. How many beer cans has he downed already? “Beomgyu. Seriously. What the fuck?” His face is irritating you, so you grab it and yank it down to get a good look of his big, round head. “Where?”

“Ack! Gently! Do it gently!” he complains, and you feel his right hand coil around your left wrist. “It’s father in the back, I think—”

“Quit grabbing—”

“Ow!”

You do manage to find the bump, but you accidentally press on it a little too hard, causing Choi Beomgyu to yank your wrist in surprise, jerking you forward out of balance. Now, that’s fine and all, but at the same moment, you hear two unfamiliar voices speaking in hushes approaching the door. Your eyes widen.

“Are you sure this room is empty?”

“Yeah, it’s empty, just—”

Swing! 

You try to get up. But your knees slip on the blanket on the stool and you stumble forward upon hearing the door slam open.

It’s a domino effect. Your palms are pressing against the soft mattress. Choi Beomgyu’s bruised face is looking straight at you in alarm. From underneath. You’re on top of him. On the bed. You snap your head towards the door and it’s wide, wide open with two people, half inside, and a few more heads poking in and zeroing in on you as the realization that you forgot to fucking lock it dawns upon you and soaks into your bones.

This. This isn’t a favorable position.

God damn it all.

“Sorry!”

And the door is slammed shut once more. That doesn’t matter. The damage has been done. You feel your face starting to burn and your strength attempting to escape from your body.

“Uh.”

The voice from below you reels your attention back in. You blink. Shit. You’re practically pinning Choi Beomgyu against the bed right now and his face is just a few inches away from yours. The heat is rising to your head. You want to move, but your arms won’t budge— seemingly temporarily locked into place by the shock of the sight underneath you.

His eyes are wide open, reflecting the orange tinted light from the ceiling, flushing his skin with a light shade of auburn, the tint deeper on his cheeks and nose. You see his throat bob, muscles contracting. 

The thing is, you’ve known him for a good twenty years or so, give or take. But you’ve never seen his face this close before, and you have to admit—

“C—can you move?”

Choi Beomgyu is kind of pretty.

Even with an ugly bruise forming underneath his eye.

“Hey. I don’t think this is gonna help kill any of the rumors.”

You look up to see Minjeong further up on the bed, very, very awake. You forgot she’s here. You toss yourself to the side with a squeak, practically hurling yourself off from the bed. “It—it was an accident!” you start. Minjeong simply shakes her head with sigh.

“I know. I saw everything. I was already awake the moment you sat this fucker’s ass on the bed.”

Hot. Your face is very hot. But Minjeong is also very right because god— you’re not sure how far things are gonna escalate. How many people saw that? Five? Maybe Six? Gosh, you don’t fucking know. The only thing you’re sure about is the fact that Lee Heeseung is gonna have a field day once he hears about this. You are royally screwed.

나비 / NABI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[ohbueckers]

TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME. i’m only tryna’ get inside of your brain to see if you can work me the way you say.

CHAPTER FIVE! pairing, paige bueckers x teammate!oc. notes, they make me sick, that’s it. also would you guys wanna see sana’s faceclaim for visuals?? i’ll proofread this a little later whooooops. warnings, a glimpse into sana’s dirty mind.. & paige just wanting that cookie real bad.

october, 2022

“we got a birthday!”

i was halfway across the dining hall, grinning as i stalked over. it was early, but you wouldn’t be able to tell with the way everyone was moving around, grabbing plates, loading up on eggs, bacon, waffles, the whole deal. i always liked this part of the day—when the team wasn’t just teammates, but more like a family.

family to an extent.

i was half-asleep, barely dressed in a nike crewneck and some joggers that had been getting a little too small for my height, glasses on, hair pulled back in a messy bun. it didn’t help that my knee’d been killing me, and i was just trying to make it through the morning without anyone bugging me too much. but as soon as i found our table, i could already tell today wasn’t gonna be one of those days. when was it ever?

and then there was also her. sana, sitting right there, already halfway through her breakfast like she wasn’t the main reason i was feeling all outta sorts this morning. she looked stupid good for someone who probably just rolled out of bed, wearing a black tube top and some uconn sweats that probably weren’t hers based on the way they fit around her waist. her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, a few curl strands falling loose around her face, and her earrings caught the light every time she moved.

i turned before i could get caught looking. still, as i slid into my seat between ice and yana, i caught her glancing at me with that smirk. she knew exactly what she was doing.

i moved my gaze to aaliyah. “my birthday isn’t for another week,” i emphasized, dropping my plate on the table before sitting down.

“exactly a week today,” aaliyah corrected, pointing her fork at me before stabbing into her eggs. “so, what’s the plan?”

i huffed like i actually had to contemplate it. “it’s on a thursday. we have practice the next day.”

“so?” amari furrowed her eyebrows at the end of the table.

i shook my head, chuckling as i grabbed a piece of bacon to shove in my mouth. “y’all know cd don’t play around like that. i’m not about to catch heat over this.” i wasn’t the one practicing, obviously, but i could already see the blame coming my way. my birthday and all that. geno was more lenient, but with official practices just beginning to start i was sure that was out the window for now.

“how would she even know?” ice asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“she always knows,” half the table responded in unison, like they’d been through it enough times to know better.

i grinned. “exactly, like she got eyes everywhere or something.” i could feel sana looking at me from across the table, and i’d realized she was awfully quiet this morning. i didn’t look back.

nika pouted. “so, no ted’s? you’re telling me we’re not hitting the bar for your birthday?”

i chewed on my lip, slumping back in my chair. “nah, we can just do something chill at the apartments. prolly just drink, have some fun,” i stated simply. “then our freshie’s won’t get carded.” i slung my arm over ice’s shoulder, smiling smugly as she rolled her eyes.

“okay, but what about their first ted’s experience?” aaliyah cut in, raising an eyebrow at me. “you’re really gonna deprive them of that?”

i shrugged, groaning internally, though. ted’s is not that special. i could see where this was headed.

nika leaned in from across the table, a smirk playing on her lips. “yeah, p, how’s sana supposed to fully adjust to uconn if she doesn’t get the ted’s initiation? you know that’s part of the culture.”

i felt my eyes shift toward sana almost instinctively, catching her gaze as she gave me this half-smile. the kind that was all knowing. she leaned back in her seat, pushing her tray aside as she stretched, looking way too comfortable. “yeah, paige. don’t you want me to have the full experience?” she teased, voice dropping just low enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

i shoved two cut-up waffles into my mouth, and naturally, my mouth ran before my brain could stop it. “i could give you another experience, too.” it was a mumble, muffled by the food, but she heard it.

i knew not to look at her, and the second the words left my lips, i regretted it. but then again… not really. her eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned back, crossing her arms like she wasn’t impressed. then, without warning, bam—her foot connected with my shin under the table.

“yo!” i hunched over, yelping and grabbing at my leg as i glared at her. “what was that for?”

sana barely blinked, her smirk still intact. “oh, did i kick the good one?” she asked innocently, but i could see the way her eyes were gleaming.

i narrowed my eyes, trying to bite back a smile as i nodded, but it wasn’t working. “real funny, sana,” i muttered, rubbing my leg like it actually hurt. “you tryna take me out before i’m even back on the court?”

she raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little, her voice dropping just enough to where only i could hear. it felt intimate. too intimate for who we were surrounded by. “maybe. if you keep running your mouth.”

i blinked, caught off guard for a second. but before i could come up with anything remotely witty, ice nudged me, pulling me back into the moment. when i turned to look at her, she was already giving me a look—like she’d heard every word of that exchange and was silently demanding an explanation. her eyebrows were practically up in her hairline, and her eyes moved between me and sana.

i cleared my throat, sitting up straighter as my eyes darted around the table. “aight, aight,” i said, louder now, trying to drown out the tension. “we’ll head to ted’s. celebrate proper. y’all happy now?”

the reaction was immediate. a mix of cheers and clapping came from everyone—except sana. she was still leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, watching me with that look. the kind that made me feel like i was the only one in the room, like this whole thing was a game to her, and she was already ten steps ahead.

she knew she had the upper hand. and the worst part? i didn’t even hate it.

━━━

i stretched out on nika’s couch, phone in hand, scrolling through my texts. i’d walked up to her apartment a little before our last-minute plan to attend the homecoming football game after practice, leaving her to finish tidying herself up. uconn’s football team hadn’t been doing very well this season, but it sounded a little fun, and it gave us something to do.

my conversation with paige had been sitting there for a while, her last message unread, just sitting at the top of the screen. it was the kind of message you see and purposely ignore for a bit—not because you didn’t want to respond, but because you wanted them to feel the wait.

my thumb hovered over the message, and i sighed, opening it.

So we not gonna talk about the other night?

You left me hangin bro.

…sana

Yo fr tho wyd tonight?

i couldn’t help the little smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. she’d been atleast a little bit more cordial than this at breakfast earlier, but the desperation in these texts? different story. she was like a dog with a bone when she wanted something, and right now, i knew exactly what she wanted, oddly enough. it’s wrong. i know we’re teammates. but i couldn’t help but feel like i was already in too deep now. there’s no harm in a little fun.

especially if no one knows, and even more when there’s no way she’s being serious.

i typed back, keeping it short.

other night? what happened again?

the dots popped up immediately, and i could already picture the look on her face—probably half annoyed, half plotting her next move.

Stop playing

You know I wasn’t tryna let you leave like that

Wanted to get you right

before i could even process how far she was gonna take it, i heard the door creak open, and nika strolled in fully dressed and ready to go, her phone in hand, completely oblivious to the fact that she was about to walk right into paige’s thirst trap. she plopped down on the other end of the couch, and her face lit up with whatever the other person was saying on speaker.

but as she talked more, it registered.

paige.

whatever paige was saying on speaker. of course she was on the phone.

i slouched further into the couch, tilting my phone away from nika a bit as my fingers hovered over the keyboard. i then typed up another response.

sure you could’ve handled it?

another immediate reply. oh, she’s milking this.

Sana

You don’t even know

Lemme come thru & I’ll show you how much I can handle

tough talk, i thought.

“just come!” nika’s voice cut through the room, snapping me out of my phone screen. i blinked, my head shooting up to actually pay attention to the conversation. i couldn’t even fathom how she was multi-tasking right now.

“why do you want me to come so bad!?” paige’s voice was defensive and laced with just enough irritation to make me smirk, like she’d been putting up a fight all evening, and it finally registered in my brain that the brunette had probably been trying to convince paige to tag along with us, while she was too busy thinking she’d actually be getting into my bed tonight. “amari’s going, yana, aubrey. you have plenty company, nik.”

“and i guess sana, too,” nika added, a little too casually like she didn’t just drop a bomb. i almost cursed at her, holding a tight-lipped grin as i shut my eyes for a moment. “just missing my twin…” nika crossed her legs, sighing dramatically as she stared at the ceiling, fluttering her eyes and really playing into this hurt act.

there was a brief pause, and i could practically feel paige’s attention shift. “wait, sana’s going?”

nika shot me a glance, completely oblivious. “yeah, she’s right next to me.”

i bit my lip to hold back a laugh, but paige wasn’t even trying to hide hers. the sound of her laughter rang out through the phone, and nika furrowed her brows in confusion. “what’s so funny?”

“aight, i’ll go,” paige finally said, and i could hear the smile in her voice, which was either genuine or just from laughing.

my eyes widened. that was telling. real telling.

“really?” nika’s eyes went just as wide, turning to me with a ‘i-think-i-know’ look, before a pleased one. “should’ve started with that, huh?”

━━━

the stadium lights were bright, too bright over the packed bleachers, the crowd a sea of navy and white. i shifted in my seat, adjusting my hoodie and pulling it tighter around myself. it was getting colder by the minute, but honestly, the chill wasn’t really the problem. not when paige was sitting to my right, just a row below me. maybe i’d purposefully made sure we weren’t next to each other. close enough to be in each other’s eyeline, but far enough that she couldn’t whisper any snarky remarks in my ear.

she was stretched out like she owned the place, leaning against the bleachers with her arms casually draped over the backrest, legs kicked out in front of her. she’d looked a little pissed, too—although she wouldn’t say it to anyone. and i had a feeling it was about me volunteering to switch seats with ines before the game started.

her crewneck had changed, not the same one she’d been wearing this morning. it had risen just a little, showing a sliver of skin at her waist that i tried not to stare at, but it was hard to ignore. paige was always like this—comfortable, confident. i suppose that’s what made her so despicable. everything suited her too well. meanwhile, i was just here trying to keep my thoughts straight.

the halftime whistle blew, and i shot up from my seat a little too quickly. “i’m heading to concessions,” i announced, mostly to myself, already heading down the steps.

paige shot her head up. “lemme come with you,” she said immediately, her voice cutting through the chatter of our teammates like it was meant just for me. i’m sure she could see a middle finger reflecting from my eyeballs.

i knew it was too late to refuse without making things awkward, so i silently accepted it, asking if anyone wanted anything.

“a pretzel,” ines replied.

“a coke pretty please, honey,” nika smiled sweetly at me, the nickname a funny tease into when amari had said we argue like a married couple.

paige, who had been sitting almost lazily just a moment ago, stood up and stretched, her shirt rising just enough for me to catch another glimpse of her stomach. she pulled her crewneck down, fingers brushing the hem, scrunching her face up slightly as she arched her back, her body extending to stretch her limbs out. every movement was slow—or maybe that was just how it felt in my head, because i almost didn’t forgot what anyone had said. my eyes moved down to her abs, and before i could stop myself, i licked my lips.

she was doing this on purpose. she had to be.

i cleared my throat, forcing myself to break my gaze and turn, heading down the bleachers almost in a rush. our stalling had beat the rush of people, but i knew the concessions line wouldn’t be much better.

the blonde was hot on my tail, picking up her pace to keep up with me. our stalling had beaten the crowd, but i knew the concessions line wouldn’t be much better. i could hear paige’s steps behind me, a little too quick, like she was making sure i wouldn’t slip away again.

“you tryna lose me already?” she chuckled.

i looked over my shoulder, slowing down just a little. “i didn’t realize you needed a babysitter.”

she scoffed, running a hand through down her ponytail. “nah, i just figured you might need some help carrying all that stuff. y’know, since you’re too proud to ask for it.”

i squinted at her as she slid up next to me. i shouldve known her longer legs had more of a chance. “i’m not some damsel.” my eyes flickered to the corner of her mouth, watching the way her lips tugged up into that infuriating half-smile. i rolled my eyes, looking in front of me again. “you offering to be useful for once?”

“oh, i’m useful, trust me,” paige muttered, her voice dropping a notch as she stepped even closer. “but you already know that.”

it was quiet. i didn’t want to respond, but paige would make sure she got something out of me. “we gonna talk?” she threw out.

i smirked. i couldn’t help it. “what’s there to talk about?”

paige stepped a little closer, trying to catch my eyes, but it didn’t quite work. “i told you i wanted to get you alone, sana. i meant it.” she paused. “don’t tell me you’re back to hating me.” her tone only sounded half-serious.

i really hated it when she said my name.

i stopped walking for a second, turning to face her. “stop that.”

her eyes met mine, the faintest hint of a smile still playing on her lips. “stop what?”

i scoffed, brushing past her to keep moving. “you’re not that special.”

“riiiiiight,” paige replied, sounding far from offended. if anything, she was more amused, and for some reason unbeknownst to me, i fucking liked it.

it was always way more complicated with girls, you can easily learn that in questioning. but paige? she wasn’t just a girl. she was paige. she was intense and frustrating and too confident for her own good, and i just wasn’t sure if i wanted to let her in. because once i did, i knew it wouldn’t be casual. she’d make me care.

but God, did i want it. God, did i want her. we’d just have to keep enough emotional distance. that could be easy. only if we made it so.

paige fell into step beside me again, her voice dropping just a bit. “you’re thinking too hard.”

i raised an eyebrow. “and you know what i’m thinking? how?”

“I don’t need to know,” she said, her voice softening in a way that made my heart beat a little faster. all of our exchanges felt like this. like the first day of practice when i told her she was pressing, playing like she had something to prove. it wasn’t just about her movements then, i could see it in her eyes, the way she wasn’t at ease. i don’t know how i knew, but i did. “i just know you’re holding back.”

we reached the concession stand, and i exhaled, relieved for the distraction. the distraction from my supposed distraction. funny.

paige’s voice pulled me back, soft but unrelenting. “you’ont have to decide anything tonight, you know. but you can’t act like you’re not thinking about it.” her voice sounded almost accusing.

i glanced at her, seeing the seriousness behind the playful front for once. she wasn’t just messing with me. she was offering something real, something i wasn’t sure i was ready for. but damn if i didn’t want to find out.

“imma let you decide, and i’ll be here with open arms,” she added, smiling way too wide for someone who didn’t have something else up her sleeve. i crossed my arms over my chest, squinting at her.

“and open legs,” she whispered.

there it was. i gasped almost dramatically, pushing at her abdomen harshly to make her stumble as she laughed, clearly getting a kick out of her behavior.

might i add that her request didn’t sound half bad?

[blazingstar29]

post layton mission fic reqs!

Curated for all of you but inspired by conversations with @silentfallingrain :D. I've tagged the authors where i've been able to, i hope that's okay with everyone!!

To Be So Blind by @purplearrowzandleather-blog (hope it's okay to tag you! :) ) - A really sweet fic about ice and slider looking out for mav after top gun and just being there for the guy

caught up in the patterns by @vannral - post top gun with alive goose, pretty heart breaking for a while but the dialogue is honestly my FAV it really lightens the fic whilst simultaneously tugging your heart strings

flat spin, heading out to sea by @saengak - okay so this fic takes place from the beginning of top gun, but if you want a fic that makes some pretty heavy commentary on society and classism, this is it. it was one of the first big fics i started reading in top gun and i waited every monday morning for it like clockwork.

Folded In Grief by Katastrophe (karrington) poor mav, like honestly the bastard suffers in this but not for too long!

don't let the great whites bite by @mavernick no angsty here! i love this fic sm and mav's characterisation and the fly boys and just ahhh they're having fun!! and ice being there for mav!!!!

don't know how long it's gonna take to feel okay by rosexpetals i love love love the progression of the story tellingin this fic it's so ;fihsa;kfh

watch his six by @shearmouth okay so admittedly i haven't read the last chapter yet, but dude yal YALL i love this fic i eat this up i love it ice is so ;fhsa;khuf;uh i love it okay I LOVE IT the characterisation is delicious

and some shameless self plugs haha

At the end of their rope - mav's at a party a year after top gun and runs into osme people who knew cougar

I'm leaving on a jet plane - my first big top gun fic and now two years old so please excuse well...everything LMAO

Fleeting Love - slighty better writing, angst and icemav getting together

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twelve

authors note: you guys are seriously the nicest and most supportive. the comments always make me stupidly smile and laugh cause not a single one of ya'll is gonna let bdj die off. 😭 also, i know a couple of people have commented and asked about the backstory with joe and jadah, and i promise it'll be explored deeper. there's a subplot i'm working towards unveiling here, and it's nearing the reveal part, but we're not there yet! i promise, though, it's gonna be touched on!!!

i also had to chop this chapter in half, because it's honestly so much stuff, so the next update shouldn't take as long cause it's almost done.

the next two are gonna be so fun. maybe some shit will go down too. we shall see.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, some angst, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“So let me get this straight, in the time that I’ve been gone, you and Joe told Callie he’s her dad, you found out Amir and Mariah been fucking behind your back, and you had a semi mental breakdown after running into your father and, plot twist, long lost sister.” She counts each off with a finger, then asking. “Did I miss anything?”

Nodding, you take a scoop of your ice cream before adding, “Joe told me he loves me.”

In true Alexis fashion, she randomly arrived in town the night before, completely unaware of all that transpired in her absence. So, you take this time while Callie sleeps to catch her up. 

“Did I miss anything that I didn’t already know?” You give her a look, and she rolls her eyes, also eating some of her Rocky Road. “Come on, Y/N. Ray Charles could see that man is in love with you. You’re the one being stupid by not reciprocating.” Before you can push back against her, even if she isn’t entirely wrong, she switches topics. “Now when are we gonna go beat Lieriah’s ass? I told you it was something about that girl. She’s a snake.”

Typically the one to defend your friends, it’s hard to find it in you to come to Mariah’s aid. Nevermind the fact that she knows the shitty things Amir has done to you over the years, it’s the fact that she’s supposed to be your best friend but is messing around with same ain't shit ex? You would never do something like that to her, but maybe your loyalty to her has always been stronger than hers to you.

“I’m not worried about him or her. They’re not worth it.” That’s partially true, but the sting of betrayal is slow to pass and even slower to heal. You’ve always had mid to low expectations for Amir, but Mariah? That’s a crushing blow. “I have more important things to figure out.”

She studies you, leaning back against the headboard. “Your sister.”

“Bianca,” you correct. It’s too uncomfortable referring to her as such, even if that’s exactly what she is. 

In the weeks since the big fireworks show—both metaphorically and figuratively—you’ve tried to slowly return to your sense of normalcy. Focusing on Callie—who is an entirely different issue in and of itself that you really need to talk to your mom about—being more on top of things at work, and navigating your relationship with Joe.

He hasn’t been back to visit since Christmas, but you figured as such. Wrestlemania season has arrived, and you know better than anyone how crazy that time is, especially with him main eventing. 

But the one thing you haven’t really allowed yourself to think too much about is Bianca. You’d sent her a vague apology text a few days after your mad dash and explained that you were dealing with some things and just needed time to sort through them. That you’d reach back out when you were ready.

That still hasn’t happened, and it’s entirely intentional. 

“I remember you mentioned that you always wanted siblings?”

“Yeah, cause we have so much to bond over,” you mutter, bitterly.

“Well, you actually do have a lot in common. She’s a teacher, like you. She has a daughter, like you—” 

“You know what we don’t have in common?” You interrupt, feeling the agitation growing again. It’s not directed toward Alexis, just the situation in general. “A father who loves us.”

You were done referring to that man as your father. A father shows up. Like Joe. That son of a bitch isn’t even in the same universe as Joe. 

Her expression softens. You didn’t tell her everything, just enough for her to get the gist that he’s a piece of shit. And you definitely did not tell her about the time you went to see him. You’ve never told anyone that story. Joe is now the only one who knows, and you’d like to keep it that way. It’s just….it’s just too painful. “I had no idea that was the situation there…..I’m really sorry, girl.”

“It is what it is. I don’t need him.” And you’re not too sure if you need Bianca either. “I’m just trying to figure out if I should power through this for Callie’s sake. You should have seen how she and Taylor clicked. I would hate to take that away from her.”

“I get that,” she acknowledges. “You have to make the decision that’s best for the long run, not necessarily how you’re feeling right now.” That’s very easy to say and nearly impossible to do. “Even if you just allow the girls to interact while you keep some distance with Bianca.”

You’re partially intrigued, spooning some more cookie dough. “How would that work?”

“They don’t live here, right?” You nod. “Maybe the girls can talk on Facetime or even play some game on their tablets. That won’t cause you to interact much with mom outside of coordinating virtual playdates, and Callie still gets to spend time with her cousin, or, not cousin."

You sit on her words, not expecting to be as open to the idea as you are. It’s a pretty genius compromise. “You really do give some great advice sometimes, you know that?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiles mischievously, and you just shake your head. “Now, who’s gonna knock this bitch Mariah over the head with a steel chair? Me or you? Or should we hit her with a bus, Regina George style?”

“Alexis!”

________

You clearly don’t love yourself because you decided to do both yours and Callie’s washday on the same damn day. A Sunday, at that. Meaning, you have no choice but to get it done because you have work the next day.

And Alexis being in town would be even more of a benefit than it already is if she actually knew how to do hair. Natural hair. She can lay any wig down better than Tae, but caring for coils and curls is another story. It’s why you declined her offer, and she lays knocked out in your bed, while Callie is fast asleep in hers. 

Thankfully, you have an insanely generous and sweet man who’s offered to talk to you while you power through this debacle, noodle arms, sleep deprivation, and all.

“Oh, before I forget again.” You grab the bottle of leave-in to apply more to the next section of hair. Shingling may give you the most definition, but it also gives you the most discomfort. “Can you be here May 8th?” A smile falls on your face. “Our baby is graduating preschool, and I know she’d want you there. I do too.”

“Shit, they have preschool graduations?” He seems genuinely taken back before answering. “But, of course I’ll be there.”

“I know. I used to think they were stupid, but now it’s my kid, so it’s the best thing ever. Her cap and gown should come some time in March, so I’m gonna have one of my old teammates who’s a photographer take professional photos of her.” It’s literally just preschool, but that’s still something she’s accomplished, and you want to commend the occasion the best you can. It’s been years since you’ve had professional photos of her taken anyway. Not since she was first born. “And yes, I’ll get extra for you.”

“How much—”

“Anyways, let me show you the tattoo.” Joe has already done so much, the least you can do is cover the photo costs. Even though you know him well enough to know he’ll find some way to contribute. Thankfully, the side of your hair that still needs to be shingled is clipped at the top of your head, so all you have to do is turn around and push down the thin strap of your shirt to reveal your latest ink. “He did an amazing job.”

“Shit, he did.” Joe’s agreement and approval somehow makes you even more satisfied with the outcome. Your Christmas gift to yourself was finally getting that Moana tattoo Callie has wanted to see on you since you told her you were getting one damn near a year ago. It’s on the back of your left shoulder, a black manta ray, some blue ocean-like coloring with one of your favorite lyrics from the movie: I will carry you here in my heart. You remind me, that come what may, I know the way. 

It’s one of Callie’s favorite songs but also feels like an ode to your grandma as well. 

He then asks, “do you want more?”

Readjusting your shirt and turning back around, you answer, “of course. More Disney but also….” This discussion triggers something for you, something that seems a little out there, but also maybe not. “I saw this tattoo on Pinterest that I want to get for Callie.” You grab your phone. “Let me send it to you.” It’s saved in your favorites folder and thus an easy send. Placing the phone back on the counter, you wait for him to receive and see it.

“I like it.” It’s a baby’s footprint with the name written in cursive and date of birth in print right underneath it. You’ve always wanted Callie’s name on you but couldn’t settle on a design until you came across that one. Something about it just resonates with you. 

Licking your lips, you suggest, “why don’t you get it with me?” Couples getting matching tattoos isn’t something you’re entirely against, you just don’t agree with it for people who are only dating and not married, if marriage is the goal. You remember when Amir once suggested you do so, and you literally laughed in his face. You’d soon rather get branded with a tramp stamp than have that man’s name permanently burned into your skin.

But, matching tattoos for the child you created together with the man you love. That is something you could get behind. 

And apparently so can he.

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” You’re not sure why, but the ease of his agreement shocks you. It’s not too far-fetched when you think about it. He loves his daughter, and you’ve always known Joe to only get tattoos that have meaning. He could give you a detailed explanation for every piece of ink on his body. 

“Yeah.” There’s almost a sense of excitement in his voice, like he’s eager to have her name on him, to share this with you. “Same location?” At that, you make a face. He laughs. “Inner bicep does hurt, I’m not even gon’ lie to you.”

Yeah, you’ve definitely heard as such, and considering his entire right side is tatted, he’d know. “I don’t know. I have to think about it. I might need to squeeze your hand the whole time, or I’ll end up punching the tattooist.”

He laughs, “you can squeeze my hand.” Joe then asks, “when do you want to get em’ done?” You start to think about it logistically, as well as financially. Tattoos aren’t cheap. “Do you want to go to the Super Bowl?”

His question surprises you because it’s such a change in topics but also….what? “Yup. And Hawaii and Puerto Rico. And then maybe if we have time, stop by Alice in Wonderland.”

He’s too good at matching your sass, retorting, “I can make the first two happen easily. The last one may be a stretch.” Rolling your eyes, you grab for the gel. “I’m serious though. My tattoo artist is based out of Vegas. The game is in Vegas this year. It’ll let me see Callie too, cause I’m having a hard time finding a gap to visit.” As he continues to speak without laughing or chuckling, you realize he’s dead serious. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to go anyway but kept forgetting.”

You need extra clarification. “Like this year's Usher concert where there’s apparently a game too?”

He rolls his eyes, providing the guest list. “It’s me and the twins, their family, some other fam…..we have a whole section, cause you know it's a bunch of us.” It’s still hard to sit on the fact that this man really just invited you to the fucking Super Bowl like it’s dinner at Golden Coral. His eyes soften. “I wanna see her. I wanna see you.”

Joe’s closing statement, so true and vulnerable, is what breaks you from your temporary state of shock. You get the sense he misses ya’ll just as much as you miss him. “Of course, we’ll go. I’m sorry, I just—I wasn’t expecting that.” And it’s true, you weren’t. “How will we get fl—”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. I just need you to show up at the airport.”

That seems to be such a recurring theme with this man. He does everything he can to make things as easy for you as possible. It’s tremendously appreciated and doesn’t go without notice. 

“This is the first time she’ll be meeting the twins,” you realize aloud. Hell, his family at all. 

Joe nods, chuckling. “Yeah, they’ve been on my ass about that anyway. They want to meet her.”

Pinning down the section you just finished, you take down the next. A little over halfway done now. “Whoever you want her to meet is fine with me, Joe. I don’t even really have a say in that. She has every right to meet your family just as much as she’s had to meet mine.”

And it’s true. Unless it could present some harm to Callie, you don’t really feel like you have the right to object to things like that. You have zero desire to interfere with Joe and Callie anymore than you already have. 

“I know. I just wanted to tell her the truth before introducing her to anyone else. Less lies.” Makes sense. Thinking about Callie meeting more family brings a small smile to your face. It’s what she deserves. Family members who actually want to be in her life.

The conversation brings something else to the forefront of your mind, partially due to Joe’s confession to you on Christmas but also a question you’ve wanted to ask him for much longer than you’d like to admit. 

“So….” This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. “There’s something I want to ask you, but I don’t…..I don’t want to overstep.” If he were to tell you that he’d rather you not, that’d be fine with you, one less stressful thing on your plate. But, of course, he’s silent, meaning he’s not going to object. So….you decide to bite the bullet and go for it. “What happened between you and your wife?”

You’re certain he wasn’t expecting that to be what you asked, but to your surprise, he answers. “We were young and got married for the wrong reason. I was 22. She was 21.”

Unsure but taking a big risk regardless, you ask in a small voice. “What was the reason?”

His answer isn’t what you’re expecting either. “She was pregnant.”

It takes a second for you to process what he’s saying. Your stomach is suddenly in knots, chest feeling tight. There’s no way he’s kept something like that from you. No way in hell. “Wait, does Callie have—”

“No.”

And just like that, you know. He doesn’t need to explain. It’s painfully obvious, especially as he looks away from the camera. You have a feeling you've unlocked a painful memory he’d most likely kept tucked away. 

“I’m sorry.” It feels so stupid and unhelpful to say. What does that do for him? It doesn’t take away that experience, that loss that you can’t even begin to imagine. But, it’s all you can offer. “Just—forget I asked, let’s change the subject.” Do you have more questions? Of course. Like, why was there such a gap between their loss and the divorce? But, this is understandably a difficult and sensitive subject, and the last thing you want to do is trigger him more than you already have.

You know better than anyone how awful that can be. 

He agrees with the subject change, going along with the transition of topics, clearly grateful for your understanding. But, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but think about the fact that this man lost his firs child before he could even meet the them, and the child he had who did survive was kept a secret from him for nearly five years.

There’s a sudden sickness and disgust you feel. And it’s not towards anyone but yourself. 

Joe had every goddamn right to be furious with you about your subterfuge.

He still does. ________

“Mama, something is up with Callie.”

You’re thankful Alexis agreed to keep Callie preoccupied in the living room while you have this conversation with your mom, because Callie had another incident just this morning, slamming her door when you told her she needed to pick up her toys.

She’s never done that.

But she has done other things in the past two weeks or so, rolling her eyes or pouting her mouth at you when you say something she doesn’t want to hear, beyond typical tantrums. 

Your mom stops her stirring at the pot to turn around and look at you. “What do you mean? Is she sick?”

“No,” you answer and then realize you’re not entirely sure how to explain it. She’s not being bad, per se. Just….difficult. “She’s just been…..off.”

Genuinely intrigued, and partially concerned, you watch your mom turn the fire on low as she joins you at the kitchen table. “Tell me.”

Shaking your head, you explain. “I thought it was just me, that I was just being overprotective and hyper-vigilant, but when I picked her up from preschool yesterday, her teacher pulled me to the side and asked me if she’s been having sleep problems. I told her no and asked why, and she told me Callie has been irritable. With staff and other kids.”

“Callie?” Your mom seems just as taken back as you were hearing these words. “That doesn’t even sound like her.”

“I know, and that’s what I said at first, but then I thought about it, and she’s been crabby with me too. It’s not horrible, but it’s unlike her.”

A small part of you wonders if it has something to do with you running off on her on Christmas. It would make sense. She was doing absolutely fine before then, but it’s the timing that throws that theory off. You’ve noticed this change only in the past two weeks, well after Christmas day passed, so why the delay?

“What does Joe think it is?”

“I haven’t told him.” It’s not that you don’t want to. You’d just like to have a better grasp of what it is before doing so. Have more actual information to provide him.

“He hasn’t seen the behavior for himself?”

You shake your head. “She’s fine with him. Matter of fact, after his calls, she’s like a completely different child.” It’s watching your mom’s face settle into a look of realization that makes you ask, “what? What is it?”

“Honey” she starts with a soft chuckle. “She’s missing her daddy.”

Her answer catches you by surprise, painting your face with confusion. You’ve had a lot of theories, but that definitely wasn’t one of them. “What?”

Reaching across the table, she places her hand over yours. “Think about it. How would she react if you were gone as much as he is? She’d be a mess, cause you’re her mama, and she has a strong attachment to you. Look how easily she attached and connected with Joe. It’s always been there. Except she knows the truth now, so her attachment is even stronger.” You heed to her explanation, wise and sensible. You hadn’t even thought of it that way. “And isn’t this the longest he’s been gone without her seeing him? She’s acting out because she misses him and probably doesn’t know how to verbalize it, so it shows in her behavior.”

As relieved as you are to have an explanation that makes sense, it’s an explanation that makes you incredibly sad for your sweet child. You know how hard it is for Joe to get away right now, you understand it. It never crossed you that she wouldn’t. 

Devastated, you ask, “what do I do?”

“Talk to her. Try to help her understand. It may not make a huge difference, but it’s something.”

You nod, so so grateful for her, for all that she does for you, for Callie. For all that she’s done. Reaching across the table, you hug her tightly. “thank you, mama.” As much as it devastated you to not have that man in your life, your mom made sure to go above and beyond to make sure you knew you were loved. She played both roles beautifully, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to make her understand what that meant to you. 

You still haven’t really sat her down and explained everything that happened Christmas night, nor has she asked, but you know it’s because she’s trying to respect your space. It’s appreciated, but you also know you’re gonna have to eventually tell her.

Just not now.

Right now, you’ve gotta take care of your baby.

________

Even the energy in Callie’s playroom feels off.

You’re so used to walking in and finding her with that million dollar smile that makes your entire day better. Instead, you walk in and she doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. She just continues to color. 

“Hey, baby….” Disappointed, but refusing to show as such, you welcome yourself in and approach her table. “Is it okay if I color with you?” 

She still doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you do your best not to hide your sadness. You hate seeing her this down, it’s so unfamiliar, and you’ll do just about anything to fix it. 

Sitting down in the uncomfortable seat, you take a couple of her pages and pull out a crayon. “I have an idea.” At that, she looks up, slightly intrigued. “Why don’t we draw how we’ve been feeling lately? I draw me, and you draw you.” 

You scold yourself for not selling it to her better, for not telling her it’s something you sometimes do with your students. Some level of innocent peer pressure. However, she surprises you by agreeing with a simple “okay.”

It takes a second for you to register that it was really that simple. Step one is done. Now for step two. 

Grabbing some crayons, you don’t really concern yourself with skin tone, just getting something out on paper. The two of you color in silence, and you start to offer to put on her favorite playlist but decide against it. 

You want her to really think about what you’re asking. 

It’s when you see that she’s placed down her crayon and is just staring at her picture that you ask, “you done?” She shakes her head, but her eyes are on the table in front of her. “Is it okay if mommy sees it? I’ll show you mine too.”

Handing you the page, you expect an influx of emotions, but actually seeing her literal representation of how she feels is simply heartbreaking. 

She’s drawn herself, frowning, surrounded by broken hearts and a blue tear leaking from her eye. Callie did what you asked. You just wish it didn’t have you feeling so helpless.

“This means you’ve been feeling sad, huh?” You hate how your voice gives away your emotions. This is about her, not you, but it’s so difficult for you to not be impacted. No mother wants to see her child hurting, and Callie currently is. It kills you. “Callie….” Moving up from your chair, you move across to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in yours. “Have you been sad because you miss your dad?”

All you need to hear is one sniffle, and instantly, you’re reaching for her, holding and comforting her.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay, baby.” She cries into your chest, and you have to hold back your own tears.

“Why doesn't he come back?” She asks in between tears, wiping her eyes. “He’s been gone a really long time.” It’s only then you realize that she’s not entirely exaggerating. Joe was last here for Christmas. It’s now the end of January. For a child like Callie, that must feel like an eternity.

“He would if he could, Callie. I promise you he would. Daddy just…he gets really busy with his job this time of the year, and he can’t leave or he’ll get in trouble.” It’s so difficult to explain this to her. WrestleMania season is inarguably chaotic and stupidly busy. Even back in the day, Joe’s trips to see you were most far and few in between during this time of year. And that was before he even had a title. You can’t even imagine how busy he must be as the literal fucking face of the company.

Enough to keep him from being able to come see you and Callie. 

You’ve just gotten so used to the dynamics of him being away for periods at a time that it never occurred to you Callie hasn’t had the same experience. That at the end of the day she’s still a little kid who just wants to be with her dad. 

It’s then that a thought crosses your mind.

“What if…..what if we went to see daddy?” For the first time since you stepped into the room, her eyes actually light up and you notice her tears lessening. “Instead of him coming to us, we go see him?”

“Really?” There’s the faintest smile on her face, and you know then that you’re going to make this happen. You don’t know how or in what way, but it will be a reality. No matter what it takes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, brushing away some of her tears. “You can go see him at his show. He’d love that.” Not as much as she clearly loves the idea alone. “Now, we’d only be able to stay a day or maybe two but—”

“Please,” she interrupts, and you get the sense that she fears you’re going to find a way to say that you couldn’t or shouldn’t go. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

“Baby, you’re already the best girl.” You push back some of her hair, resting your hand against her cheek. “Mama’s gonna make it happen, okay? I promise.”

If you have to sell one of your kidneys, then you’ll just be less one organ, because you’re getting your baby to that damn show. Matter of fact, you don’t say anything to her, but you’re wondering if you can make it to this week’s upcoming show. It’s only Sunday, and that gives you a couple of days to make arrangements and secure tickets. It’s doable, but you don’t want to get her hopes up, so just in case, you say nothing.

And yes, in the back of your mind, you know she’ll see Joe in a couple of weeks for the game, but that’s too long. Your child is hurting. You need to do something now. She can’t wait that long. 

“Thank you, mommy!” She wraps her little arms around you, and just like that, you see the spark and joy that fills your days with light and laughter. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.” Kissing her temple, you release her, realizing something else. “Now we can't tell your daddy because we’re gonna surprise him, okay? Can you do that for me?”

She nods, happily, unaware of the real reason. You know that you can’t tell Joe about this. Well, not now at least. This is not something to be discussed over the phone or even video chat. And if you tell him you want to take her to see him as soon as possible, he’ll know something is up. 

So, you have to move in silence. 

Coloring with Callie commences for a little longer as you value and cherish your time with her, but as soon as she’s down for her nap and before you wake Alexis from hers to tell her the news, you need to do something. It’s in that time bonding with her you realized how you’re going to make this happen.

You’re suddenly immensely grateful for that random conversation you’d had with Joe a while back regarding the fact that he and the twins have had the same phone number since they were in high school.

Pulling out your phone, you scroll through your contacts until you land on the one you need. You type, backspace, and type some more, only sending out the text once you’re fully pleased with it.

You: Hey, Jon. This is Y/N. Can you call me when you get a chance? Preferably sooner rather than later. I need your help with something. And please don’t tell Joe. It’s a surprise. 

________

God clearly wants you to bring Callie to see Joe. 

There’s just too many things that have lined up perfectly for that not to be the case. The discussion with your principal went well, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. You’ve always had a cordial relationship and know she respected your grandma. The whole school system in your town did. That was just her level of impact. But that respect has slid down to work in your favor as your principal told you to take as much time as you need.

“You’ll always have a job here.”

While not a huge concern, it’s reassuring and not entirely unsurprising. Again, your grandma’s impact definitely granted you a level of nepotism. You were slightly surprised when she actually encouraged you to take more time off, pointing out how in the almost nine years you’ve worked there, she could count on one hand how much PTO or vacation time you’ve used. And, it’s true. It was really only when Callie was sick and your mom couldn't help or you wanted to stay home and nurse her back to health that you called out. For the most part, you had damn near perfect attendance.

But, that’s certainly about to change, and you’re thankful you have a job that’s flexible enough to accommodate the change. 

And then there’s the actual getting there. You should have known when Alexis was asking questions about when you and Callie were leaving that she was up to something. You naively chalked it up to her planning her flight out, as there was no way you expected her to wait around for ya’ll to get back. Instead, she was busy buying not just her ticket to come with ya’ll but yours and Callie’s as well.

You instantly felt bad when she forwarded you the itinerary information. You couldn’t see the cost, but you weren’t stupid either. Getting flights out with such short notice had to be expensive as all outdoors. You were just going to put the bill on your credit card and work to pay it off. And, of course, when you offered to pay her back, she nearly cussed you out. As if such an offer was insulting. 

“What good is a trust fund if you can’t spend it on your college roomie and pretend godchild?”

So, while you still felt slightly uncomfortable, you were able to push it to the backburner for the sake of Callie. This is all for her, and you don’t care what it takes to make it happen. Even if it means sucking up your pride. 

And deep down, you know if Alexis didn’t do what she did, Joe would somehow find a way to compensate you. The same way his ass somehow got his card on file at the hospital and covered all of Callie’s medical bills without ever even asking you if you needed help.

You still haven’t talked to him about that, not really having or finding the right time, but it also feels a bit bitchy and ungrateful to be upset with the man for covering his daughter’s medical expenses. 

Then there’s the actual show itself. One thing you were initially concerned about was if Joe has a match lined up for this upcoming week’s show. You two have only had a couple of discussions about it but still enough for you to learn that he’s extremely hesitant to expose Callie to his wrestling persona. 

“I don’t want her seeing me like that, thinking that’s who I am.”

And you understand him fully. Roman may be a fascinating character, but he’s equally narcissistic and ruthless as he is intriguing. The complete opposite of Joe and who he is. 

Still, you’ve worked to help him understand that talking to Callie, explaining to her that he’s playing a “character” could help her understand better. You both are in agreement that she’s too young to watch actual matches, especially his as they tend to get brutal, but she can see certain promos. And she does. You let her watch a couple where the dialogue is safe enough to go over her head. And truth be told, she’s so focused on watching Joe that she's not really paying attention to what’s being said anyway. 

Needless to say, you were massively relieved to hear from Jon that Joe doesn't have a match lined up and his promo is reportedly tame and safe enough for Callie’s eyes and ears. He didn’t give specifics, but from one parent to another parent, you trust his judgment. 

And the most important thing of all is the fact that Callie has done a complete 180. She’s no longer as irritable, just the usual attitude when she’s sleepy or hungry. Just like her mama. And there’s that spark of joy in her eyes. She’s even started packing what she wants to bring with her. She knows you’ll only be there for one night, but even that can’t seem to dim her joy. 

It makes your heart swell. 

All of this brings you to your conclusion that you’re doing exactly what you should be doing. 

“Ahhh, and here it is.” The old woman’s voice breaks you from your inner dialogue as she walks toward the counter, returning from the back. “Sorry about that sweetheart.”

“No worries, Mrs. Ella.” Your eyes light when you see the item in her hand, even if it’s covered by a cloth bag. The fact that it’s ready is more than enough to make you smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this.”

She waves off your concern, offering a warm smile. “Your grandma was one of my best friends. As far as I’m concerned, anything you need is a done deal.”

That warms your heart. Mrs. Ella has been the town seamstress for longer than you’ve been alive but doesn’t look a day over 50. She’s not lying either. Your grandma always cited her as one of her “life” sisters. 

“Why don’t we take a look to make sure it’s alright?” She offers, removing the item from the garment bag. She takes the hoodie and turns it over so you can see the back.

In awe, you acknowledge, “it’s perfect.”

Among the many things Joe has gifted Callie, WWE apparel hasn’t really been included in that list. You’ve chalked it up to his hesitation about familiarizing her with his Roman persona. However, you know that girl loves her daddy and will support him in all the things, so you took it upon yourself to pick her up a few items over the holidays. One of those things being a black hoodie with Roman’s picture on the front with him wearing one of his head of the table shirts. Wanting to make it special and personal, you had the idea of customizing it. Thus, asking Mrs. Ella to add to the back, Acknowledge my daddy!, and she did a fabulous job. It looks like that was the original design. 

Pulling out your wallet, you ask, “how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

Your eyes snap to her. “Mrs. Ella, no, this was a rush—”

“Don’t argue with your elders, child,” she scolds, and you smile warmly. “Just show me a picture of her wearing it, and we’ll be even.”

Moved by her generosity, you offer your gratitude again. “Thank you, Mrs. Ella. Seriously. Thank you.” 

Hand over yours, she just nods and then ushers you out the door, “well, you better get a move on child.” 

With a small laugh and one more thank you, you leave out with the hoodie, excited to show Callie and even more, to see Joe’s reaction when he sees her wearing it.

“Y/N?”

Fuck. You’d know that voice anywhere, have known it since you were five years old. 

That doesn’t mean you have to heed to it.

You keep walking. 

A stupid decision, because the footsteps behind you become louder and faster as she asks, exasperated, “would you just talk to me?”

You spin around, suddenly pissed at her repeated question. “Why? Why should I talk to you?” 

You’ve dodged and ignored her texts the same way she did yours, so what’s the issue now? Being on the receiving end must be one hell of an unpleasant experience for her. Not that you give two shits. Mariah is the last thing on your plate right now.

Mariah seems taken back, and that just pisses you off more. How can she not see her wrong in this situation? “You’re my best friend, Y/N. We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Did it mean something to you when you were fucking Amir?”

Something you can’t identify flashes in her eyes followed by apparent hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’d really believe him over me.” It’s hard to tell how sincere her watery eyes are or if they’re performative. You’ve never known her to be fake, but then again, maybe you’ve never really known her at all. “That’s fucked up.”

Finding some level of compassion and understanding for the woman you called your best friend for almost your entire life, you try to offer her the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, let’s say you’re not fucking him. At the very least, you’ve been telling him my business while ignoring my texts and calls. Like, what the fuck, Mo?” 

She shakes her head. “He came to me, worried about you—”

“He came to you nosy and upset because I cut it off with him, and you fell into his trap.” How she can possibly fall for Amir’s bullshit is beyond you. She knows how he is. Hell, she’s been right beside you, up until recent weeks/months, dealing with his bullshit. So, her excuse is just that—an excuse. “And even if he was, as my best friend, you should know that’s still girl code violation.”

It feels almost silly citing that, but the morals behind it still ring true. You would never talk to Caleb about things going on in her life when you know they’re not on good terms. And you damn sure would never fuck him. 

“Girl code?That’s funny coming from you, because you didn’t seem to to care about girl code when you were fucking another woman’s husband and had a whole ass baby for him.”

Her words stop you dead in your tracks. Any facial expression you may have been showing is dropped and neutral. Even your voice is softer, less accusatory. “Excuse me?” 

For her to say that to you, knowing how sensitive a subject that is truly takes you by surprise. Truly. 

It doesn’t stop there though. “I mean, forreal, Y/N. You’re up in my face about Amir, but aren’t you still fucking Joe? Shit, how many niggas do you need?” It’s hard to believe the words coming out her mouth, so angry and hostile. But, even her volume rising has you stumped. It’s like she wants to draw an audience. “It’s not enough to be one man’s whore, but you still gotta have another on the side?”

Truly baffled, all you can ask is, “where is this coming from?” 

She sucks her teeth, just as irritated, if not more by your question. “It’s always been this shit with you. You do whatever the fuck you want and don’t care who you hurt or betray in the process!”

And now you’re just straight up confused, because what have you ever done to her? Cause that’s what it sounds like she’s implying. Like you’ve done her wrong. Like you’ve been doing her wrong. “What are you even talking about?”

“You got Joe. You got Amir. Shit, when is enough enough for you?” She scoffs, and it’s hard for you to even look at her let alone listen to all the hurtful things she’s spewing. “Like damn, find a new hobby. Focus on raising your kid—”

And that…..that is the moment that you’re no longer confused, or hurt, or saddened to hear your best friend say such awful things. You’re pissed. Cause one thing no one can convince you you’re not, is a good mother. You’ve dedicated your entire life and being to taking care of Callie, making sure she’s straight. That’s always been your priority, and for her to suggest otherwise….those are really fighting words. 

You step toward her, finding all of the will in the world not to shatter her jaw. “You and I have so much history. It is the only reason I’m not whooping your ass right now, but know this, Mariah. This was your freebie. Fuck with me again, speak on my child again, and I’ll bash your fucking head into the nearest wall.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. “Stay away from me, bitch.”

You don’t give her time to respond or even yourself the chance to lay her out, you instead rush to your car, locking the door and speeding out of the parking lot. 

Your knuckles are nearly white with how tightly you’re gripping the steering wheel.

It’s been a while since you’ve been this hot. Years maybe. Amir would piss you off, sure, but never to the extent of your emotions in this moment. It truly took all resolve and imagining Callie’s disappointed face at not being able to see her dad  because you got yourself locked up for aggravated assault to keep you from beating Mariah’s ass. She knows better than anyone that you don’t play about your daughter, so for her to include Callie in her mud slinging is not only repugnant but hurtful.

She’s supposed to be Callie’s godmother. 

But beyond that, you’re having a hard time reconciling with the rest of the things she was saying. It didn’t feel like something that’s been building up over the past few months. No, this was different. Much…..deeper.

Regardless, you don’t have time to deal with this shit. You need to put your focus on preparing to bring your little girl to see her dad. 

Mariah can fuck off. 

She’s always been all bark and no bite anyway. 

________

“Mommy.”

Callie doesn’t even have to say anything else for you to know a request is to follow. 

“What's up, sis?”

She climbs on top of where you lay on the sofa, you and Alexis watching some random dating show she swears up and down is the best thing since Love is Blind. So far, you’re entirely unimpressed. Granted, reality shows of any kind have never been your cup of tea in the first place. 

Your YouTube history is mostly crime documentaries and Bloodline videos. 

She climbs on top of you, throwing her arms up and shouting, “dance party!”

Of all her typical requests, that’s one you haven’t heard in a while. 

You’ve always raised Callie with music, even back when you were pregnant, you would take your Beats and place them on your belly. It’s seemingly worked because this child loves music, so much so that you two would have random “dance party’s” where you’d blast music and dance around, no care in the world, just the two of you.

You haven’t had one in a while, but seeing Callie so happy, a stark contrast from how she’s been is more than enough to get you up and on your feet. You look over at Alexis. “Come on, Lex, it’s dance party time.” 

She feigns a gasp, looking at Callie for approval. “Do I get to come to this party?”

Callie giggles and jumps on the sofa. “Of course! Everyone can come to dance party!”

What’s also ironically funny is the fact that you and Alexis used to have dance parties all the time in your dorm, just often with much more explicit Travis Porter, Speaker Knockerz, type music and a lot of ass shaking.

“Well tonight, it’s just the three of us,” you laugh, grabbing your phone and opening your Spotify to figure out what will be your kickoff song. It’s when your eyes land on that one though, you know you’ve found it.

Connecting your phone to your Bluetooth, you confirm the connection and hit play. 

We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have traveled land and sea

But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be

“My favorite white girl song ever!” Alexis shouts, starting to dance with Callie who’s just as excited about your selection. Together, the three of you dance and sing when the iconic chorus hits. 

If you gave me a chance I would take it

It's a shot in the dark but I'll make it

Know with all of your heart, you can't shake me

When I am with you, there's no place I'd rather be

At some point, Alexis grabs your phone, recording and capturing the laughter and joy you experience dancing and being silly with your very, very best friend. Callie’s laughter could revive any soul, and it’s so genuine. Even more, you know a large chunk of it is her excitement to see her dad in a couple of days.

And that makes it all the more special. 

Eventually needing a break and time to catch your breath, you laugh as the song ends and the next one starts. Lex and Callie immediately go at it for round two, spinning around and dancing to Dance the Night. 

You take a second to check your phone, seeing that you have a Snapchat from Joe. Frowning, you open the message confused as to why he’s using that and not just text. He only has the damn app because you made him get it. He’s not very big on social media outside of occasional Instagram posts. 

Swiping it open, you see why he was messaging you on there.

Because your wonderful best friend sent him the video she recorded of the three of you dancing.

Joe: How do I save this?

Joe: Fuck it. It’s too confusing. Just send it to me.

Laughing, you chew on your bottom lip and type out a reply.

You: You’re such an old man. 😩 

You: But yes, I’ll send it, even if I didn’t know Alexis was recording to send it to you...

You: Callie loves “dance parties” lol 

Joe: I love her laugh. She looks so happy…

You: I know. ❤️ She loves music. Def my kid.

You: Skillet is next on the queue, btw. 🙃

Joe: Don’t know what that is, but if I had to take a guess, it’s some rock shit.

You: You know me so well. 😊

Joe: Of course, baby.

Leaving his thread, you realize that if she sent it to Joe, she probably posted it to your private story as well, which is fine. You only have people on there you know and trust to keep the contents within that space.

But, it’s in checking the views that you see Mariah not only watched but screen recorded your story. It’s strange, normally you wouldn’t think twice about it. She’s always screenshotted and screen recorded stuff you posted, and you did the same with Micah. 

But now…..

Now, it feels wrong to share these moments with her. She’s lost that privilege. 

Moving to your contacts, you ignore her old Snapchat name she never uses anymore and instead just block her primary one from seeing your stories, and that includes close friends. And interestingly enough, when you check your texts, you see one from her muted thread that momentarily causes you to pause.

Mariah: Kinda stupid to ice out the one person who knows everything about you. 

But the pause comes and goes, Mariah always says shit, and that’s where it stops, the saying. She’s always been the mouse of you two, and that shit ain’t changed.

Closing up the app, you switch back to Spotify and focus on what’s before you and not behind you.

You have all the people you need in your life. 

Mariah can fuck off.

[micaluvssoccer]

Girl next door: Nika Mühi story

Chapter six

Micaellas POV

they both say good night and they walk out and I watch them leave not realizing a tear falling. Ice walks over and she comforts me. I say I have enough room in my bed for four people and my couch has room for 9 yall are welcome to stay if you’d like to. They all say yay and they start arguing over who's gonna sleep where. I say or I can set up some sleeping bags as well. The girls say that’s probably better momma we want to be near you instead of on the couch and I say okay babies and then I grab the sleeping bags and I say so whoever sleeps with me in my bed just to let y’all know that I sleep with no shorts on because I get really hot when I sleep.

They all say okay and we dont mind and I get their sleeping arrangements done and I say shouldn’t you girls go get some clothes my clothes would be too big. They all say oh yeah we will be right back mama. I smile and say okay girls and then I start to get ready for bed and I put on a tank top and I take off my shorts and I get in the bed. I then hear the girls run back into the house and I softly laugh and I look up seeing them and ice runs straight for me and I open my arms. She jumps into my arms and she snuggles into me. I gently kiss her head and I rub her back and I say why were you glaring at Nika earlier. Ice says she was on her phone and she was making you sad. I say I know princess but maybe it was just a misunderstanding and kk says or maybe her and Paige are dating because usually Azzi would go with them for a sleepover.

I looked at Azzi and I said, "Is that true sweetheart, do you usually sleepover with them.

She sadly nods her head at me and I say oh and then I say well um let’s go to bed now. She climbs into bed next to me and I hold onto ice and azzi and I say well i guess we all will know tomorrow. They both just nod their heads. I fall asleep holding onto them and I feel kk and Ines come in the bed too. We all fall asleep and i wake up the next morning to all the kids in the bed with me. I giggled and I get out of bed and I do my morning routine and I then shut my bedroom door and I walk to the kitchen and I make breakfast. I hear a quiet knock on my front door while i make breakfast. I say it’s open and I continue to make breakfast.

Nika walks inside very slowly and she holds flowers. I continue to cook a huge breakfast platter and I say hi. She says hi and these are for you. I look back and say you can put them in the vase on the kitchen table. She sadly says okay and I say I appreciate the flowers thank you. Nika says you're welcome and I see paige behind her and holding her and then I see a leftover bag in Paige’s hands and I say oh where did you two go. She says oh we went out for breakfast. I nodded and starts to completely close off while I cook breakfast. The kids all walk in and they glare at nika and paige. I sighed and said Ines can you set the table for me please. She says yes mama and I feel her kiss my head and I softly smile and then I finish cooking. Nika and Paige look at each other all confused. Azzi looks over at them and scoffed and said what are they doing here.

Ice looks over at her and says your guess is as good as mine . I say Nika bought me flowers i don’t know why though. Ice scoffs and says why are you sending her flowers when you were making out with Paige last night. Paige says let's go, we aren't wanted here. I look down at the food and I say wait is this true Nika you’ve been flirting with me ever since I got here. She just sadly nods and I say take your flowers and go, give them to Paige. She sadly takes them and they walk out the door. I take deep breaths and I start to plate the food. Ice walks over and she cuddles with me. I look at her and say when did you girls see them make out or did you hear it.

they say a few days ago we saw it and i nodded and said wow so both of them were leading me on basically. Ice says they both might like you mama. I say wait what that’s crazy. Azza says yeah i agree with ice. I say then why were you all glaring at them then. They say because they made you upset and sad. I knocked on the wall and say come back. They both walk back in all sad looking. I say do you both like me if so why didn’t you say that. They both say we didn’t know if you like us both. I look at them both and I kiss them on the nose and I say you could have asked. They both smile and say we know that now. I shake my head and says go get the flowers now and ask me correctly. Nika says okay and they both run out the door to get the flowers. I serve my kids their food and drinks and I get my food too. They both come back in with the flowers and they both get down on one knee to ask me to be their girlfriend. I blush and say get up and come kiss me. They both stand up and they both deeply kiss me and I kiss them back and pull them both into me.

They both smile into the kiss and the kids say ewww. I blush and say go seat down on the couch i need to eat something. Paige sits down next to me and nika pulls me up and she sits down in my seat and then she sits me down on her lap. I blush and starts to eat my food and I say don’t blame the kids they were being protective. They say oh we don't and I say good because those are my babies and ice says yeah momma

[slayfics]

Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fan fiction about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter twenty-three: The School Festival.

Chapter links

Finally, after all that practice the day of the school festival finally arrived. Everyone was running around getting ready for the performance.

"Here you go," Mina said handing you the costume for the performance.

"What is this?!" You asked, looking at the costume horrified.

"It's the outfit we all are wearing for the performance! What's wrong?" She asked.

"These are so cheesy and over the top! I'm not wearing this!" You complained.

"Oh, suck it up! You can change after the performance if you want! Besides- they are orange, isn't that Bakugo's favorite color," Mina said giving you a playful wink and nudge.

"Cut it out!" You yelled as a blush ignited on your face.

"Fine- but hurry up it's almost time!" She urged you as she ran around handing the costumes to the rest of everyone.

Regrettably, you changed into the costume and took a look in the mirror. It looked ridiculous and you hated the thought of walking out on stage in it. You pulled out your phone to check the time- only 10 more minutes before show time- butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You wondered if Katsuki was feeling nervous as well.

You unlocked your phone to send him a quick message.

These costumes are hideous. Can't believe they are making me wear this thing. Ha, you got a uniform too? Yup, bright orange and blinding. Are you feeling nervous? Of course not. You better not be either. We're gonna murder these dumbasses. See you out there. You smiled and placed your phone back in your pocket.

"Alright everyone ready!" Mina called and gathered up the rest of the girls to make their way to the stage.

Your nerves caused everything to be a bit of a blur. Before you knew it Katsuki had let out an explosion that started the performance and you let yourself go on autopilot remembering all the dance moves.

After a while you tried to steal a glance at Katsuki during the performance causing you to slip up on one of the moves.

Mina gave you a pointed glare indicating for you to focus up. You followed through, stopped trying to steal glances, and stayed focused for the rest of the performance. At the conclusion, everyone cheered and seemed overwhelmed by the performance. However, you were just excited that it was over with.

Afterward, you were all helping to clean up the mess from the special effects of the show.

"You did really great up there, Bakugo," you spoke walking up and handing him some ice to explode.

"Tch- thanks... you weren't so bad yourself," he mumbled, causing a blush to form on your face.

"Hey, you two!" Eijiro said excitedly. "I heard there are some obstacle courses and races at the festival! Want to check them out?"

'"Ha! You already know you're not going to be able to beat me shitty hair!" Katsuki said grinning at Eijiro.

"Oh, I'm gonna do my best! Come on, let's go then! We're pretty much all finished up here," Eijiro said waving his arm for you both to follow him.

You joined the two boys and couldn't help but laugh at their competitiveness. The two of them competed on every obstacle course and race there was at the festival. Even the silly carnival games.

"Here-," Katsuki grumbled, shoving a teddy bear into your arms. He beat Eijiro at another carnival game and was rewarded with a plush toy as a prize. "I don't need that," he said before turning away to join Eijiro at another game.

Even though he turned away just as quickly as he shoved the toy into your hands, you didn't miss the pink tint that painted Katsuki's cheeks as he did.

As you three made your way through the festival you came across the haunted house that the general studies class had put together.

"Hey let's go!" You said excitedly, pointing to the haunted house.

"Tch- no way!" Katsuki barked.

"Aw come on it'll be fun!" Eijiro pleaded.

"I said no!" Katsuki yelled.

"What are you scared or something, man?" Eijiro teased his friend.

"HAH? Of course not! I just don't want to risk popping my quirk off by accident dumb ass," Katsuki explained.

You suddenly had a scene play out in your head of Katsuki getting jumped scared and instinctively using his quirk and exploding the whole haunted house. You squeezed the stuffed bear in your arms while you thought of an idea to help Katsuki.

"Here," you spoke and reached out your hand to grab Katsuki's.

Katsuki's eyes widened as he watched you interlace your fingers in his, "What the hell are you doing?!" he said angrily, as a full blush spread on his face. Despite his complaint, he didn't pull his hand away.

"Well, this way you'll have to pull your hand away from mine before using your quirk, and by that time, you'll be able to remind yourself it's not a real threat," You explained.

"Oh, great idea! Come one Bakugo let's go please!" Eijiro begged.

Katsuki's face scrunched up as he looked at your hand holding his, despite his best efforts to look annoyed the blush on his face told a different story. "Fine whatever- if you two want to go that bad let's just get it over with."

You three entered the maze, and to everyone's relief, Katsuki was not agitated into exploding the whole maze. However, while walking through Shinso popped out from the top of the ceiling giving you both a good startle.

You and Eijiro screamed and immediately began to laugh. Katsuki's grip tightened on your hand, and as he was startled, mini explosions came off his fingers before he relaxed again.

"Sorry...," He muttered to you and tried to pull his hand away.

You laughed off his apology and gripped his hand tighter refusing to let him escape your grasp, "It didn't even hurt don't worry about it Bakugo."

"Come on guys I see the end!" Eijiro called excitedly, back to you both.

You both hurried and made your way out of the maze. Eijiro glanced at you two still holding hands, provoking Katsuki to pull his hand away and enticing another blush on both your faces.

"Let me see," Katsuki demanded looking at your hand.

"I said it's fine don't worry about it," you said hiding your hand from him.

"Uh oh- did you accidentally let off an explosion?" Eijiro asked.

"Tch- I told you both it was a dumb Idea! Now don't be so stubborn," Katsuki said agitated, and made a grab for your hand. He carefully inspected your hand in his, and Eijiro made his way over to take a peek.

"I don't see anything," Eijiro said after a moment of gazing at your palm.

"Told you- I barely even felt it Bakugo, stop worrying," you said gently pulling your hand away.

"Fine- are you idiots about done with this dumb festival? The sun's going down now," Katsuki noted.

Eijiro let out a yawn, "Yeah I think that was everything I wanted to do."

You nodded in agreement, "Yeah I'm ready to head back to the dorms."

You three made the walk back to the dorms as the sun began to set. You gripped the teddy bear in your arms the whole walk back playing with the soft ears and arms.

"Awe you gave it to them Bakugo?! That's so sweet," Eijiro said observing you playing with the bear.

"Shut up shitty hair!" Katsuki grumbled stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.

Eijiro laughed at his friend's grumpiness. "Alright alright, sorry~."

You three walked into the common room and Eijiro stopped a moment. "Well, I'm uh- gonna go upstairs then. See you both later," he said awkwardly and tried to make an exit.

"Hu? What the hell are you doing we are going the same way dumb ass," Katsuki said, confused by his friend trying to leave you both behind.

"Oh uh- yeah I know I just thought..." Eijiro said awkwardly playing with his fingers and looking away from you both.

"Thought what? Spit it out Kirishima!?" Katsuki urged.

"I uh- just thought that you two would um- want to say good night without me here," Eijiro answered.

Katsuki's eyes widened and his lips pressed together in surprise at his friend's words.

Eijiro's words had left you frozen as well. Had he noticed something going on between you and Katsuki? Did that mean that Katsuki felt the same way about you that you did about him? Being lost in thought and overwhelmed by this information prevented you from saying anything, and it was too late when you noticed Katsuki anxiously searching your expression for an answer.

He wanted you to speak up and say what he couldn't. No matter how accurate Eijiro's assumptions had been- Katsuki couldn't bring himself to admit it. So, he waited for you to do what he couldn't- until the silence became too much for him.

"Tch- don't be dumb shitty hair," Katsuki said, finally turning away from you "Good night," Katsuki called to you as he walked away. Although it was just two short words- they felt as though they were laced with venom and a deep sadness.

Eijiro looked at you with his puppy eyes expression before he took off following his friend, leaving you alone squeezing the teddy bear in your arms.

"Hey man wait up!" Eijiro called as he caught up to Katsuki.

"The fuck was that all about Kirishima? Why did you have to make that shit so weird!" Katsuki barked at his friend. The hum of the elevator buzzed louder as it made its way up to the boys' rooms.

"I was just trying to be polite! I thought-," Eijiro began to say.

"Well, you thought wrong!" Katsuki said angrily, his hands were tight fists in his pockets.

"Oh, come on, can you blame me? You gave them a cute teddy bear- and held their hand in the maze-"

"SHUT UP!" Katsuki yelled and stormed out of the elevator as it opened to their floor.

"Hey man, why are you so mad about this?" Eijiro asked following his friend.

"Because- it's not like that, you're making something out of nothing," Katsuki said swinging his door open.

"I don't think so man- they were so happy when you gave them that bear," Eijiro argued.

"Tch- then why- never mind good night," Katsuki said and attempted to close his door, but Eijiro stuck his hand out holding it open.

"Why what Bakugo?" Eijiro urged.

"Forget it!" Katsuki yelled.

"Come on man tell me!"

"Ugh- isn't it obvious! They didn't say anything just now because they didn't want you to leave me alone with them. I'm not an idiot." Katsuki exclaimed.

"No man- they were just nervous. Why don't you go back down and talk to them?" Eijiro suggested.

"HAH! Not gonna happen," Katsuki laughed and successfully slammed his door this time.

Eijiro let out a sigh and made his way to his own room.

Tags: @anon-mouse223 @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @sikuthealien @queenpiranhadon @melrs21 @poemzcheng @kazuumii @bakunianadecorazon @ur-crusty-uncle @reads-stuff-quietly @chixkadee @perfectsukii @faetoraa @fem-weeb @nagicats @lees-chaotic-brain @maelibo @zanarkandskylines

Thank you all for reading and following the story! I can’t believe there’s only one more chapter left 🤭~

[saerins]

⋆୨ chapter three ୧˚ for a while, you were all mine

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way <> next: chapter four - behind a box of reasons why ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 6.3k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, yn and sae finally sharing one bed | notes: eeep this was long i’m sorry !! more of the other girl here heh ^_< also mwah thank you to all of you who’s reading ily !! <3

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t right of you to go through your husband’s stuff. Maybe you should’ve just looked at that little black box and left it there and continue to be ignorant.

But no. In this world, you’re nosy and greedy and you wanted to know who exactly it is that Itoshi Sae of all people can’t get over and now you have exactly what you were looking for.

After extensive research—and by research you mean scrolling through your husband’s social media (all of them), you managed to find her tagged in a post buried way below on his Facebook wall. Silver lining is: there’s nothing recent. The bad part? Judging by the date, they’ve known each other for a long time.

Apparently her name is Mirin, and her family’s made up of a whole slew of top lawyers in the whole of Japan. There’s not a lot on her Facebook, but her Instagram is a whole other story. Her posts the last few years put her somewhere in Europe, and judging by the content, she’s been studying there for a while. But before that, back when the posts were all in Japan, you catch a few photos of Sae. Some of them have Oliver and Eita, and a couple of other guys you haven’t met before.

It’s really wrong of you to do this, only because you know you’re just setting yourself up for a world of paranoia, but you can’t stop. You move over to the pictures she’s tagged in, and there’s one from Oliver that catches your attention.

Because it’s dated a few weeks back.

The first of two photos show Oliver, Eita, Sae and the same guy you saw back in Mirin’s feed—the one with jet black spiky hair. They’re in a bar, you presume, sitting around a private booth with a ton of alcohol in the ice bucket on the table. You recognise his attire; it’s from the very first night Sae bothered to sit down at the dining table and eat with you. 

The second makes your heart crash to the floor. In the photo, in Sae’s place is Mirin herself, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a skin-tight red dress that you wouldn’t ever think of wearing. (One, because it’s much too revealing for your own taste, and two, well, just because you’re more of an oversized t-shirt kind of girl.)

All you can take away from what you saw is that Mirin is now back in Japan. Coupled with the fact that Sae had been gone even though he was off from work for those first few days of your marriage, you deduce what you wish isn’t true—was he meeting up with her all this time? Even 

Trying to avoid falling into utter madness, you grab your phone and text your ever-trusty best friend.

Reo, meet you at our usual. ASAP!!!

Just as you’re about to leave the house, Sae gets back from wherever he’s been (which now you can’t help but wonder whether he was meeting Mirin), and you run right into his chest.

“Careful, busy?” Sae asks, which is more than Sae usually does and you realise just how low the bar is set right now.

Still, you answer him like you always do. “Yeah I’m gonna meet Reo for a bit,” you tell him, biting back a snarky comment about Mirin.

Even with those doubts of Sae in your head, you can’t help but stop to appreciate how he hands you your keys from the key hanger before you forget, or how his other hand is gripping onto yours, warm and just slightly calloused. It’s the first time you’ve felt them since that day at your own wedding.

“Take your time, I’ll handle our dinner tonight,” he tells you, and you think that’s already a lot considering that he’s never really bothered with anything the past few weeks, but then you feel a soft sensation against your forehead—very brief, so unfamiliar, way too soft—and then it’s gone in just a second and it’s way too quick that it has you doubting its existence at all.

All you hear is a soft “see you” before the door shuts behind you, and then there’s only the erratic beating of your heart that fills your ears.

“Yikes.”

“Very helpful, thanks,” you sigh exasperatedly as you plop down onto the cushioned seat across from Reo.

Reo laughs, handing you your phone back, open to Oliver’s Instagram account. “Then ask for a divorce, I’m sure he’d happily oblige if all of that’s true.”

“You know why I can’t, Reo,” you remind him, close to giving up.

Reo nods, remembering about your parents and deciding not to make matters worse. “Did you ask him about it though?”

You frown, glaring up at your best friend who’s now happily sipping on his cold brew. “And let him guess that I was stalking his ex? Sure I did.”

Reo snorts at your sarcasm. He thinks it’s funny how you’re oddly meek in front of Sae, and yet you’re snappish around him. Comes with the many years of being best friends, he supposes. But on that note, “you think there’s something going on between them?”

For the first time, Reo sees you helpless, eyes staring into nothing, index finger idly tracing circles on the polished wooden surface. “I don’t know,” because all you know is that you’re already exhausted from overthinking all the things they could be doing behind your back. “But… he’s always away and he says it’s work when I know it’s not. And she’s back and they were at the same place and urgh, I don’t know what to do.”

By that last line, you’re already burying your head in your hands, slumped against the table, Reo watching on as you grumble in frustration. He chuckles, gently patting your head before you look up at him, “what if they’re just friends right now?”

“It’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean… from the looks of it, they were pretty serious at one point.” Your words are all muffled because you’re pretty sure this is you being jealous now—thanks to Sae considerably warming up to you (be it at his own sluggish pace), it’s hard not to feel anything for him. In a way, you’re learning to like a lot about him, but there’s this unshakeable doubt you can’t brush off in the form of his ex.

Reo leans back against his chair now, pondering out loud. “Hmm I wonder what that reminds me of.”

In a second, you know all too well what he’s referring to, and you find yourself unable to look him in the eye. “That’s… different. We didn’t act on it.”

He rests his elbow on the table, head resting against his fist, “yeah but… we were still each other’s first kiss, right?”

“But we didn’t amount to anything.”

“Except that we’re best friends now,” Reo tells you, and you know he’s trying to get a point across but you’re not sure you want to understand it.

“And that’s all we ever were, Reo.”

Smiling, Reo leans forward a little, cautious at keeping his voice down. It won’t do if people misunderstand and word gets around. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but you were all I wanted at one point. For more than just that one day under the cherry blossoms, more than that one time I stole your first kiss.”

It stuns you a little to hear it, because any romantic emotions between the two of you were never said or shared. Both you and Reo knew back then that your parents wouldn’t ever be in favour of him and his rebelliousness that you both just decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. At that time, when you were both foolish kids, having that something intangible was enough. Maybe it faded for you faster than it had for Reo, but he knew that it once existed. Even if only for a second.

“And?”

You’ve gone soft now, and Reo knows you understand. You’re just in denial.

“Are you sure Sae would feel the same if he knew about it? If he knew I used to love you too?” Reo asks you, genuinely wondering for himself.

You’re about to argue that Sae doesn’t even care, but putting yourself into his shoes, you get where Reo’s coming from. History is history. No matter how long ago it was or how short the relationship (or lack of one) was, the feelings still existed, once upon a time.

Still, you have a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye. Especially if Sae has to hide it all the time. He’s never even said her name to you, if they met at all.

“Anyway look, do you want me to try asking Oliver about it? I’ll be discreet, though I can’t really say the same for that knucklehead,” Reo warns you. It’s not like he knows Oliver much outside of any business dealings, but he can tell that much at least.

You shake your head anyway, knowing it’s a bad idea. For all you know, Sae would just lash out at you for prying into his business when you’re just his on-paper wife.

“Wonder why they broke up though,” you think out loud, watching the liquid in your cup swish around, close to spilling off the edge as you swirl it with your hand, almost completely lost in thought.

Reo answers you without missing a beat. “She went abroad to study and just called it off thinking it wouldn’t work.” His eyes go wide the moment your head shoots up, and he winces after letting it slip.

“You knew?”

“Yeah…”

“What the- how?” Because it’s incredulous how Reo happens to know that much more about the relationship.

He sighs, fessing up. “I was asking around about Sae remember? When I told you he’s just a tough nut to—”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave it off, wanting him to get to the point.

“Well, Oliver’s kinda a blabbermouth so…” Reo sighs, as if he senses there’s no point in keeping it in, not when you’re already halfway into that rabbit hole yourself.

And you’re all ears. Half because you really just want to learn more about it and the other half just wanting confirmation that you’re not crazy for overthinking about this. But then Reo tells you and you’re not sure anymore.

“He said Sae was never over her, loved her to bits.” Reo pauses, hesitating before he opens his mouth again. “He said Sae was waiting for her to get back before starting things up again.”

Oh.

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Surely it wasn’t a stretch to be furious that distance would be enough of a reason for a breakup? Surely Sae didn’t have to think himself crazy for refuting such an idea?

Mirin’s hair flowed in the wind, pretty as it always was, and it would be even prettier in his memories. She looked unsure, and he knew it too. He knew her like the back of his hand, down to the injury on his ankle. She was only doing what she thought was right, and that was offering each of their own freedom, though Sae had no single doubt in his mind that that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Sae, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she told him, her eyes swimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to overflow.

Always so stubborn, and forever thinking less of herself. That was how he knew her to be. And as much as he hated that stubbornness at that moment, he loved her just as much.

With a hand reaching out to her, he pulled her to him, letting her rest her head in his chest, something that he savoured because it wouldn’t be long until she’ll be gone for who knows how long.

“Is it selfish of me to say I don’t want to break up with you?” Sae was asking her, genuinely. He didn’t know how to handle this—when life held different paths for two people in love, wasn’t it just common sense that they could still tread it and yet be together? Was long distance really the end of everything they had?

Mirin sniffled just a little before she pulled away and forced herself to smile, something that Sae hated. It was always the fake ones that irked him, even now.

“Is it selfish for me to think that we’re supposed to?”

Maybe he didn’t know the answer. But all he knew was that if she still felt like they should, then he’d concede. He was always weak when it came to her. It was always the same. He couldn’t imagine being weak to anyone else. It was her. Only her.

“Fine, we’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he told her, a tone so gentle that no one but her has ever heard. But he drew close, tipping her chin up so she would look at him, his teal eyes appreciating every inch of her beautiful face, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and the most beautiful one he thought he would ever see. “But you know something?”

Mirin swallowed the lump in her throat, the amount of love she felt threatening to swallow her whole. “What?”

Sae let out a deep chuckle, a soft one before he pressed his lips against hers, a promise laid between their lips like it was a secret only they both would keep.

“Nothing would stop me from waiting for you to come back. So come back to me, okay? Come back, I’ll wait for you.”

That night when you get home, you feel just slightly numb. After hearing what you did, it’s no surprise. You’ve always been kind of weak when it comes to feelings. You’re more heart over mind and you’d choose your heart over and over again even if you had no more blood left to bleed.

You think you’re never getting over it until you walk in and realise that Sae’s in the kitchen, setting your dinner down on the table. It’s like your tears automatically dissipate once you look into his eyes.

“Oh, just nice,” is all he mumbles before he sits down at his place on the entirely too-big dining table for the two of you.

Across from him, you sit down as you look at the spread before you. A steak on each of your plates, potato puree at the side. In the middle there’s assorted sides of mushrooms, corn kernels and what you assume to be a tray of sauces for the meat.

“Did you cook all of these?” You ask, almost breathless. You’re about to say he’s a much better cook than you are, until Sae speaks up.

“No.” He seems nearly unwilling to answer you, a delicate frown on his face. “Accidentally burnt the pans when I tried to cook.”

“Huh?” You spin your head around to find the sink filled with all your pans, and from the looks of it, Sae had been trying to scrub the burnt portions off unsuccessfully.

“We need to buy new pans.”

Sae says this all too monotonously, like he’s half-robot and half completely embarrassed, that you can’t help but laugh out loud. Besides, it’s kind of cute that there’s a faint pink on his cheeks. You’ve never seen that before.

He looks at you incredulously, like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh at him like he’s a damn clown. Flinging a mushroom at you with his fork, he rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.

Pouting at him mockingly, you decide to tease him a little more. “You didn’t touch anything else in the house and ruin them, did you?”

And you were joking, until you realise Sae’s averting his gaze, stuffing his mouth full with corn kernels.

“Sae!”

“We might need to get new stuff for the laundry room too,” he confesses, talking with his mouth full. (Spoiler: you find out later that he put the wrong detergents in the washer and accidentally flooded the laundry room.)

Still, you think it’s sort of endearing that he tried to do the chores while you were the one out for a change, so you stop yourself from making fun of him too much. It’s not like whatever you learned earlier isn’t still sitting in the back of your head (because a part of you wonders if he’s doing all this out of guilt), but some part of you wants to be selfish and let yourself feel special, even if it’s delusional, at least for a little bit.

You want to feel like the wife he misses when you’re not around, like the person he would think of when his mind strays. Is this all too much to ask?

Maybe you just can’t help yourself, so you bring yourself to ask: “Sae, why did you agree to this?”

There’s a pregnant pause in the room, the only sounds filling the silence being the stainless steel cutlery hitting the plates as Sae adjusts himself. “Why did you?”

You suppose that maybe it’ll be easier for him to share if you start first, so you bite the bait. “Long story but… if I don’t then it’ll fall to my sister and she’s happy with someone else.” You swallow the meat in your mouth, the fat rendered so well it makes you crave for more. “I don’t want her to have to sacrifice that. Our parents aren’t exactly the nicest people in the world.”

Sae listens to you, an understanding settling in his chest. He could laugh from the coincidence of it all. “Same, but for my brother,” he tells you, prodding at his steak. “And he’s happy with soccer, not some girl. Can’t get a girl to save his life.”

Somehow, you can hear the quiet fondness that he has for Rin that makes you believe he’s a good brother.

“Would a marriage affect his career all that much?”

There’s a certain complexity behind Sae’s expression when you ask that question, something that you can’t decipher. But he scoffs, “let’s just say, my parents aren’t the nicest people either. I would know.”

And something tells you that it’s not something you want to ask yet, so you let his answer sit with you.

“Oh, speaking of parents,” Sae brings up his phone, switching the subject and handing it over to you. It’s a string of texts between him and his mother, apparently. You hold it up to your face, reading through and it appears they’d gotten you both tickets. “Mine got us both tickets, so.”

As you scroll, a grin appears on your face as you look at him. “Honeymoon tickets to Korea?” You’re almost squealing. It’s been a long while since you’ve last had a vacation, and ten days of distraction sounds really nice after all the information you’d just learned today.

Sae rolls his eyes, though you don’t miss the slight tug upwards at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, so get packing, we leave in two days.”

And as excited as you are, you feel a vibration and the brief flash of ‘dummy’ messaging him, the only part of the preview that you can see being: no, take me with you :(

You’re pretty sure it vibrates some more but by then, you’re already handing the phone back and Sae just locks his phone without bothering. Shaking your head, you try to stuff that image back to the deepest crevices of your mind, determined to not let it ruin your mood for your getaway.

Ex lover or not, Sae is still your husband and it’s not like he hates this (by the looks of things, it’s only been getting better and better), so you’re still hell bent on making things work.

Two days fly by way too quickly.

The day after Sae tells you about the trip, you immediately get to work at packing. Ten days is not a short trip and you plan to make full use of it, and for that, you have to be ready.

You had spent the whole day buying anything you would need—travel-friendly items and whatnot—while commuting back home to your parents’ house (at a timing you know they’re at work, of course!) to take anything you might’ve left there that you needed. Just as you left the house, nostalgia took over as you looked around at the place where you grew up.

It’s strange. People say to cherish what time you have with your parents, that one day you’re going to move out and you’re going to miss it.

You don’t feel like that’s necessarily true, because you’re living proof. The only thing you’d miss is your sister and you still talk to her everyday. Meanwhile, the only times your mother or father ever talks to you is to ask you about your marriage and warning you not to annoy Sae too much, as though it was a given and that it shouldn’t be the other way around.

Maybe it doesn’t make much sense; you and Sae (or maybe just you) trying to be a family when you both have no idea what a proper family is like. Even if it is just on paper.

Now you’re on a town car to the airport and you’re fiddling with your passport in your hands, staring out the window like a little child that’s going overseas for the first time. (Next to you, Sae’s thinking the exact same thing—you do look so much like an excited child. Or maybe a puppy.)

Of course, Sae’s parents waste no expenses in gifting you two first-class seats. Not that you’ve never been in first class, but it’s nice to be next to Sae, and you catch yourself, realising just how quickly you’re catching feelings.

“What?” Sae’s just getting ready to turn his phone to flight-safe mode when he catches you staring, a hint of smugness forming inside of him.

Even with a small partition separating your seats, you can see his teal eyes staring at you, long lashes fluttering in all its glory. Instead of offering an answer, you just shake your head and lean back, busying yourself by adjusting the screen in front of you. 

Being in a state of denial is easy; it’s actually fun to sit in first class next to Sae, on a three-hour flight to your honeymoon, annoying him each chance you get, earning yourself a death stare every instant before laughing yourself silly when he flips off at you. It’s been a few weeks, but you think you’ve grown accustomed to what Sae is like that you know his middle fingers to you are never meant to be taken seriously and his silence is just how he is when he isn’t fully opened up. It nearly makes you think you’re crazy for doubting him and yet you don’t have the balls to question him about any of that. Not yet, because you’re not ready for this to end (if it will).

The itinerary had already been planned out by Sae’s mother, but it wasn’t like either of you wanted to follow it. One, Sae likes to do things spontaneously anyway and two, well, you have a feeling that he might want to treat this like a solo trip. It’s not like either of you have properly been husband and wife much to have a proper honeymoon together.

So count you surprised when you suggested that you both try to do solo trips around the city and just meet up for dinner, only to have Sae agree and yet follow you wherever you decide to go that first day.

At first, you were just wondering whether he had the same plans, but after he followed you into a Sephora looking absolutely clueless and then getting all flustered and sticking to you the moment the staff there asked him if he wanted to do a skin test, you allow yourself to think that he’s actually tagging along with you.

“What are you doing?” You decide to ask after exiting another store, carrying no less than five bags thanks to your anxiety of asking Sae what he’s up to.

On his part, he merely shrugs and looks away, hands in his coat pocket, looking absolutely like a model out of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if he’s really yours. On paper, at least.

“This is our honeymoon, right? Makes sense that we’re together.” That’s all the explanation Sae offers, his gaze hovering over the bags you’re carrying, before he leans closer. “Besides, you’re my wife,” he says, gently grabbing your bags and carrying it for you.

He doesn’t say that it’s just on paper this time. And you can’t help but read into it. It’s perplexing how easily his words can affect you. It has your heart doing somersaults and your lips nervously pursing together.

“So, where next?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.

And maybe you’re a little too excited for this pleasant turn of events that you’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at him. “Wait, really?” 

You can’t even hide the glee in your voice and Sae, for the first time, smiles—even if he’s doing it as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yes, stupid,” he tells you, chuckling as you hop slightly in excited. “Are we going or are you just gonna stand here like a little puppy?”

With excited nods and a little squeal, you clap your hands together before daring to put your fingers around his wrist, dragging him with you.

Sae follows quietly behind you, staring at you as you happily tread ahead, your hands warm and guarding his against the slightly chilly air, hair flowing in the wind and he suddenly thinks you’re even prettier than he first thought you were. And then he starts thinking that maybe this part of his life that’s planned by his parents isn’t so bad after all.

Though, when you get back to the hotel, you find out that Sae has already specially asked for two separate beds, to the surprise of all the hotel staff, because of course, Mrs Itoshi had booked the honeymoon suite for the both of you. Special requests for that room usually mean flowers on the bed, or breakfast just the way they like it—not for the groom of all people to be asking for a separate bed altogether, especially when he insists there is no additional person.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Sae tells you the moment you get back to the hotel that night, gesturing to the bed set up by the television, much to your bummer. But you suppose you can’t expect too much—hand holding was already a miracle in itself.

“Oh yeah, sure,” you shrug it off, like it doesn’t even matter. Deep down you feel like a rock was dropped from your throat to the bottom of your stomach, forming a gaping hole in your heart along the way that you tried to will into non-existence.

Still, somehow, despite this little obstacle, you find yourself optimistic after being witness to Sae’s change in demeanour.

“Hey, Y/N?”

When you turn around, you see a hint of hesitation flicker across his teal eyes before he shakes his head, brushing it off.

“It’s nothing, goodnight.”

Although you’re curious, you decide not to press him about it. Offering a small smile, you nod.

“Goodnight, Sae.”

Over the course of your entire honeymoon, you find that you shouldn’t be chiding yourself for being delusional in the first place.

For once in this one-sided love affair, you feel like perhaps it’s not so one-sided at all. Because from what you’ve learned about Sae in your close-to-minimal time together, he isn’t someone that you can force into doing anything he doesn’t want to. At least when it comes to mundane activities which includes trips. (Unless you’re his parents who you have no doubt in your mind probably mirrors your own and have their ways of controlling him, per se.)

But it’s hard to think he doesn’t want to do any of this with you when he’s so compliant. He follows your bucket list of things to do and doesn’t complain once. He lets you drag him to the palace and looks only slightly concerned when you tell him you want to “do the thing where we can dress up like royalty and take pictures” but he only sighs and concedes within seconds.

When he comes out of the room looking like the most handsome prince you’d ever met, you’re too shy to meet his gaze but he tilts your head up to look at him for most of the shots anyway. With his face so close to yours, with these kinds of small gestures which he willingly initiates, you begin to wonder if it’s possible to make him happy in this possibly loveless marriage.

Spending ten days together, surrounded by just each other and doing things that couples do; it nearly makes you feel as if this is real. Like Sae really loves you and that he had asked you to marry him one day out of the blue because of it. Nothing like how you felt that first time you met him, in your dressing room minutes before you were about to become husband and wife, being talked down to and told that this was a facade and could be nothing more.

Now he’s here with you, sticking close and following you around, entertaining your requests for activities, falling asleep on your shoulder when you were on the plane to Jeju, and sometimes he absentmindedly holds your hand like he’s used to it. He helps you with your luggage always, and he makes sure you get food whenever your stomach starts growling, and he’s more observant than you give him credit for because he starts picking the radish off your plate without you asking.

Your album’s suddenly filled with pictures of you and Sae and you were hesitant at first but dragging him to the amusement park when he wasn’t for it at first was a good decision; for a while, you get to see what he’s like when all the downturned lines on his face reverse, when he looks the most like an actual guy in his mid-twenties, enjoying life instead of brooding all the time. Thanks to that, your pictures are more both of you smiling or being goofy together instead of faceless pictures because neither of you feel like showing your faces at all.

By the time your honeymoon is about to come to an end, you find that maybe there’s hope for this after all. That maybe you’d just been overthinking everything prior to this and it shouldn’t be worth worrying over after the trip ends.

But you find that hope can be flimsy sometimes. 

On the seventh night there, you and Sae are both on your bed, in the actual bedroom, fighting (not literally) over a multiplayer game. Just two adults hunched over one phone playing frustrating games meant for kids. (Somehow it makes you feel like perhaps neither of you ever had a normal childhood and this is something to make up for it.) It’s all fun and games until you see a throng of message notifications from dummy mixed in with several from what you presume to be Sae’s group chat with the guys.

And you can keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, except Sae immediately stops after the current round and tells you he has to take a call. And you already know more or less who he’s going to talk to. And just like that, you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.

The subsequent nights (and days) aren’t easy for you either. After just giving up on thinking and forcing yourself to sleep that night, you’d been stuck with paranoia everyday. Especially when you realise that he’s starting to take calls every night outside on the balcony where he’s sure you’re out of earshot. 

You wonder if he’s being lovey dovey with her outside when he talks to her. You wonder if he imagines you as her when you’re out together. You wonder if he wishes you were her. You wonder if all this is just a gimmick; a test run for when he does the actual things with the actual girl he wants to do them with.

Safe to say, by your last night there, you’re a mess. The moment you get back from trying to be happy all day (which was a disaster because you wouldn’t stop trying to minimise contact with Sae), you tell him you’re too tired and that you’ll just go ahead and go to bed.

Which, of course, is code for ‘you just want to lie in bed and cry all night’.

Sae couldn’t even get a word out before you shut the door on him, plopping down onto the bed and crying into your pillow. Maybe holding everything in was a bad idea. Now you’re bursting with emotions and you try to call Reo a few minutes later but you can’t even get him because he’s busy somehow and you’re positive that the gods hate you right now.

There is one thing about being on rock bottom that you like, though; at least you know how you feel. You’re exhausted and upset and envious because you wish you could be that person for your husband. But you keep getting reminded that you’re not. That somehow you’re just a mere stand-in until he marries his real wife next time. The one he promised to love forever. (Technically, he vowed that to you on your wedding day too, but that’s not the same and you know it.)

Deciding to shut off your phone and have this time to yourself to cry your eyes out, you miss the sudden swarm of notifications that come in. And thanks to you stuffing your head into the pillow, you don’t notice Sae opening the door and peeking inside, an unfamiliar feeling settling inside him at the sound of you sobbing.

He gently closes the door behind him as he walks to you, your back turned to him, your hands and feet hanging onto the bolster like a koala to a branch. Slowly, he saunters over to you, almost like he’s afraid to. When his hand rests on your shoulder and he sinks into the mattress beside you, you stiffen up for just a moment before spinning around and sobbing into his chest instead.

You didn’t expect him to even enter your room at all, much less let you stain his shirt or hold you close when you’re being emotional like this, but he stays there, hand gently rubbing your arm, up and down, a gentle kiss placed on the top of your head. It makes you wonder what kind of games he’s playing. Is this Sae not being able to make up his mind and that’s why he’s still so nice to you even when he has his old flame in the back of his head?

“Do you… want me to leave you alone?” He asks, though you can argue it’s kind of a stupid question but then you realise he probably doesn’t know much about actual relationships so you let it slide.

You shake your head in response, deciding that as stupid as it all sounds, you want to throw your hat in the ring. You’ve fallen for him, and you want him for yourself.

And maybe it’s wrong of you to project this on him, but your absence of a normal family where a home is not just a house and where parents shower their children with actual love and concern makes you yearn for one yourself. And maybe it’s not a great idea to want that from a man you married from being forced to, but thanks to this honeymoon you can see that there’s a flicker of spark there.

That Sae’s not emotionless and he’s definitely not cold to you. Not anymore. That if you guys had been given more time instead of being rushed into things by your parents then maybe the whole wedding could’ve gone without any of the hitches you experienced. That every single radish he picked off your plate, every picture he took with you, every time he held your hand, every time he pulled you close—none of that was manufactured, was it?

So isn’t it possible for you to be happy with him? So is it still foolish or selfish of you to want to be with him?

Is it too much if you ask him about it?

“Hey, Sae?” Your voice is soft and timid and more vulnerable than you’ve ever shown, but he hears you loud and clear, his “hm?” resounding against his chest, right next to your ear. “Can you stay?”

A few seconds of pause, and he replies, “of course.”

You shake your head slightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you know, what we said on our wedding day.” Your voice is entirely muffled, still Sae understands.

There’s an even longer pause this time, and you think that Sae’s just thinking of a way to get out of this until you hear him speak up again.

“Idiot,” he chides, but you can hear the soft affection in his voice. Suddenly, you feel his pinky wrapping around your own, and he holds it near your face. “I promise you,” he whispers, and you wish you could see the expression on his face, “I’ll stay.”

It might be wishful thinking but you think he really means it.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover @xoxojisu @karmatiz @sagejin @minnieminnie00-got7 @hearts4heidi @shiinobu-x @n1uh @prepchuu @leeyzhuo @shidouryusm @tsukishiro-yue2402 @kaiserkisser @pookiebearcave @dcvilxswish @saeskiss @whtflrr @arminseas @raphsimp @saharei @danibxe @lectris00 @comet-kun @ishitam67 @gskill @sweet2wthsblog *bolded: can’t tag you due to your settings >_<

[tinkerbelle05]

It's Ours

Characters: Jaime Reyes x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You and Jaime move into your new apartment, but not without a few hiccups.

Warnings: showering together (it's nothing crazy but some ppl might be iffy about it)

Translations: Princesita = Princess

“Okay, that’s the last of it,” Jaime huffed as he pulled the very last box into your new apartment with him. You clapped for him while he playfully bowed to you.

You and Jaime decided to move in together in a new apartment building. You were nervous but excited to start this new chapter of your life, especially with the man you loved.

The apartment wasn't much; one bedroom and bathroom. They have an AC unit and the appliances looked new so hopefully there won't be any issues with them. But you never know, especially with the older buildings.

“So, what you wanna eat?” Jaime asked you, phone in hand and he plopped on the couch next to you.

“Maybe we should unpack some boxes first?” You suggested. Yes, you were hungry but you knew yourself. The moment you were fed, you’d crash. And Jaime would be right behind you too.

He attempted to give you those puppy dog eyes but you shook your head, “No, no. We should at least set up our bed so we don’t sleep on the couch. And maybe unpack some of the bigger boxes.”

Jaime groaned and sunk deeper into the couch, “Princesita, please. For me?”

His pleading was cute but your resolve was stronger, “Oh c’mon Jai- Ahh!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something move. It was small and black so it must be a bug. You saw it moving again, scurrying across the floor. You being scared of bugs, were whipped into a frenzy of course.

“Kill it! Kill it!” You screamed off the top of your lungs as you climbed higher up on the couch to get away from it.

Jaime got up and used a lone flip-flop to smash the bug to death.

“Okay, okay, It's dead. You’re okay,” he told you and attempted to contain his laughter but you saw it anyway.

“Don’t you dare laugh, Jaime! Those things are scary and gross!” You argued and he gives you that sweet smile.

After he disgraded the dreadful creature into the trash, Jaime came to sit to next to you. He pulled you into his arms and rested his head on yours.

You two stayed like that for a quiet moment, exhaustion deep into your bones. The sound was the cars outside and your neighbors’ tv.

“We should really put up a tv,” you suggested quietly.

Jaime gave you a breathless laugh, “Only you could think of more things to do even when you are tired. It's amazing.”

You sighed and sunk deeper into Jaime’s embrace, “Yea, your right and it’s getting late too.”

With all of the energy you could muster, you hauled yourself up from the warm embrace of Jaime and walked to the bathroom.

“I’m going to take a shower then head to bed, on the couch,” you said with a hint of disgust. “Can you pretty please look for some pjs for me?”

“Fine, fine. Only because your so cute.” He got up from the couch to look for some clothes for you.

Out of habit, you closed the door and undressed. You were excited for the steaming hot shower to touch your skin but unfortunately, what rained down on you was freezing cold water that probably came all the way from Antarctica.

You yelped when the water came into contact with your skin and jumped against the wall to get away from it. Bathroom door opened and Jaime came in with your clothes, he had a confused expression on his face.

“The shower is ice cold,” you explained to him. "We'll have to call the landlord tomorrow."

He came closer to the shower to put his hand under it and jerked his hand away instantly. "Wow, that's pretty cold. How's a new apartment got this many issues."

“How I’m gonna take a shower now?” you complained. “I smell like sweat.”

“Well, we could shower together. For warmth,” Jaime suggested and there was a glint in his eyes that you chose to ignore.

You nodded your head and watched him get undressed. Though the implications and that smirk on Jaime’s face weren’t lost on you either, you really just needed to take a shower and head to bed.

Your eyelids were growing heavier by the minute and you didn't wanna fall in the shower. Jaime got in behind you and started to gently wash you up. You washed his back, neck, and shoulders.

In 30 minutes or so, both of you were done and laid on the couch together. It was quiet like before, except for Jaime's soft snores and your breathing.

There were things that needed to be fixed in the morning but for right now, you were content. Ignoring the fact that you were shaking like a leaf from your shower and that you could slip from the couch any moment, of course.

Tags: @fhhahaha12, @allthingsvicf, @louiesdaydream, @herrescasper, @niluuuuu, @starii-light, @scryarchives, @666kpopfan, @sodacatz, @bluecray0nn, @itsyagrillkat, @strawberrycreamb, @conicoroahre, @losingmywayyyy, @nightwingandhissquad, @champagnelovers101, @asvterias, @wintersdeadd, @shslsimpette

Taglist & Masterlist & Anonlist & Reqs Info

[romanshomeonwattpad]

Girl in New York | 5

pairings - art donaldson/reader | challengers au! |

“_ _" = Y/N

masterslist | next chapter | last chapter

sypnosis - you have lunch with Art’s girlfriend and your parents….

warnings - messy blowjobs, dirty talk, slut shaming, cheating, voyuerism

word count - 2k

© elliotsblunt 2024. do not repost, modify, or translate.

You and Art….came to an understanding.

It was odd. Although it was winter—the sun was shining today. White shorts hugged your hips, showing off the curve of your ass. A black tank top let your breasts spill out just enough without flashing the entire tennis club. Birds chirped at the sudden heat, spreading their wings and able to fly away from their problems.

Sweat had gathered at the top of Art’s lip as he drank from his hydro. You two had agreed to meet on Fridays instead. He hadn’t mentioned what occurred Sunday night, diving right into your usual routine. The both of you had just finished an hour long practice—but Art didn’t seem it was long enough. “Let’s go again.”

You groaned, throwing your head back before plopping down onto one of the chairs. There were a ton of tables since there was a food court nearby and people liked to judge the players while stuffing themselves. “My legs are killing me. Can’t we just wait until tomorrow?” You kicked your legs onto another chair, looking up at him. “Matter of fact, let’s get ice cream. I’m craving it.”

“You should lay off the carbs,” Art placed his hands onto his hips, raising a brow at you. Something glinted in his eyes. “It could mess with your cardio.”

You sleep with a guy once and he thinks he could tell you what to eat.

“Whatever. I’ll get it myself.”

Art lit a cigarette, “Least you’ll be getting off your ass.”

You pushed yourself off the chair and hit his shoulder whilst passing him. As if you hadn’t just spent the last hour aggressively dodges Art’s stroke’s. You were pretty sure there were three bruises on your knee from falling to strike back. And on top of that, the concealer you applied on your neck to cover his hickeys was melting off. It was fucking December—why was it ninety degrees?

Bees buzzed around lavender colored flowers. You spotted around the corner the food truck. A familiar pair of pretty brown eyes and a charming smile popped into view. Humming to yourself, excitement flourished within you, approaching him. “Oh hey—it’s you again,” his brown orbs not so swiftly racked up and down your figure. “I was gonna text you but my phone broke. It like won’t turn on…it’s a piece of shit.”

You raised your brows, “Can’t even trust your own phones these days to not cockblock you.”

He laughed, “Literally. What can I get you? On the house.”

“A chocolate ice cream on a cone, please.”

A wink was thrown your way—shooting right down into your core. But his eyes didn’t swirl with the same hungerness as Art. This was more like desire…curiosity. It didn’t feel as exhilarating as tossing flirty banger with the gorgeous blonde. This guy was younger, and seemed like he tried too hard to impress you. Whereas Art didn’t give a fuck what you thought, he still said it regardless.

It didn’t irritate you that he wasn’t acknowledging the situation. All you knew was that it surely wasn’t a one time thing. Whether he expects it or not, he’ll eventually give in. And if he didn’t—you wished to savor his taste on your tongue for as long as possible.

“Here ya go, gorgeous.”

You snapped out your daze. There was a cutie in front of you—and were off thinking about Art. Get it together _ _.

He handed you the vanilla cone. There were sprinkles on top of the perfectly scooped ice cream. But before you could thank him, Art grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the guy. You knitted your brows, “Art what the f—thanks uh, Chase! Or Chad!”

“It’s Chris. How do you flirt with guys you don’t even know,” Art eyed you from the corner of his eye, not fully turning his head. Once you two got far enough, you tugged from his grip.

Your eyes narrowed into daggers. “Says the guy who cheated on his girlfriend.”

That shut him up. Ignoring the non-staggering death stare he was burning into the you—you licked at your ice cream. His eyes focused on the way the tip of your tongue twirled around the cream. “Perhaps I should’ve went with vanilla,” you tasted, locking eyes with his. They were hooded and cloudy, drinking in every movement you made with your mouth. No longer thinned into knives penetrating your skull.

And then it flew out your hand. You’re ice cream.

“What the fuck, Art—“

“Get behind that wall,” he sneered, shoving you anyways. You almost tripped before his hands pushed your shoulders downwards—guiding you to your knees. When you got the message, your eyes rounded up at him. “Art—we’re at the club. Your girlfriend—“

His fingers gripped your chin in a bruising hold. Taking out his cock with the other hand by pulling his sports shorts down, he then tapped the pink top onto your bottom lip. “Don’t mention her before I’m about to throat fuck you,” he smirked, before watching his head vanish between your lips. A salty undertone filled your taste buds, his thick head pulsing on your slippery tongue. Your eyes don’t leave his as you hummed, savoring the taste of his pre-cum. Sucking and swirling with your mouth, and jerking the rest with your hand, you put yourself to work.

His hips harshly snapped into your mouth. Art’s eyes were barely open, bliss taking over his features.

You couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted to see him break above you. Moaning around his dick, you felt it twitch in the warm walls of your mouth— before more of his salty liquid dribbled out. Signaling he was getting close already, your wrists began to twist the base of his cock. A patch of blonde hairs resided above it. He held his shirt up with one hand, holding the back of your head with another.

“Fuck, that’s it. Take it all like a good fucking girl.”

Sticking out your tongue, you continued to jerk off his huge cock. “I’m gonna—fuck—“

His cock twitched, blue eyes boring into your wicked ones—taking everything he had to offer. The liquid shot out all over your tongue, and on the ground.

“We would like to meet your instructor.”

You almost dropped your spoon, choked on your mashed potatoes, and screamed at the top of your lungs. Perhaps your mother had gone crazy. She took a sip of wine, shrugging her shoulders at your father. “She seems passionate about Tennis. It seems as if he inspired this newfound hobby.”

Oh…you have no idea.

“We’ll come watch you play next week. It’s set,” your father nodded, taking a bite of steak. A know it all look crossed his features. “You know—I used to dabble in the sport back in high school…”

You tuned out your father out.

Your parents were going to meet Art?

This could not fucking happen.

“How ya doing? I’m Bradford Smith, and this is my wife—Fiona Smith. _ _’s mother.”

Art’s eyes flew over to you. The sun shined without mercy, the tight long-sleeve that covered your tits due to your parent’s presence making you itchy. And to make matters worse, a high pitched hello sounded from behind. A pair of blonde pigtails came into view, and as soon as she spotted you, her arms clung to Art. “_ _! What a surprise! Speaking of those—I was planning on surprising Art. I didn’t know you were bringing your family as well.”

You laughed in disbelief that this was all happening. “Well isn’t that just strawberries and confetti throw up fun.”

Art sent you a behave look, earning an eye roll from yourself. Your mother chuckled, probably just as confused as everyone else, “_ _ wants to show us what the two of you have been working so hard doing.”

“I love watching you play, baby. Let’s do it!” La-la loopsie cheers, clapping her hands excitedly. You refrain from rolling your eyes again, grabbing your racket from the table and heading to the court. You overhead your mom tell your dad that Art’s girlfriend was cute—leading you to make a disgusted sound and warm up.

Art bounces his ball of the ground before hitting it with the racket. Just how you liked it. He started out aggressive, but you expected that, hitting it with yours quickly. The both of you dove into your skills, hearing your current audience clap every once in a while.

After about thirty minutes, you began to grow winded, and called for a break. Your father ended up talking to Art about his old tennis team. Surprisingly, the two got along—sharing a few chuckles here and there. Tiffany kept kissing your mother’s ass, asking her about the mug’s she liked to design. Just from listening to the conversation, you began to grow nauseous.

“I’m getting slushie,” you muttered, walking away from the scene. But before you could get too far, Art overheard you—his head whipping away from your still speaking father.

“I’m actually thinking about getting something too. I’ll go instead,” he offers, Tiffany noticing his sudden interest. You knit your brows together.

“I got it.”

“No seriously. I’m good friends with the dude anyway.”

“Chad?” You raise your brows, causing him to send you a glare before walking away. Tiffany followed him—wearing a painted smile. You thought the encounter was weird, but before you could think too deep into it, your mother pulled you aside.

“You should wear longer skirts, _ _.”

“Mom—I’m an adult. Please.”

Your father kissed the side of your head, “Why don’t the five of us have some lunch. There’s a cafe right there. Go let your friends know and we’ll grab a table.”

Before you could reply, they walked away to find a spot. Tiffany and Art returned back, him handing you a cherry slushie. “It was all they had.”

“That cashier guy asked about you. Is he like, your boyfriend?” Tiffany asks, sipping your Diet Coke. You didn’t see the point in diet anything if there was no sugar. It made everything taste a million times better.

Art pressed his lips together. You shrugged, sipping your slushie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” your tone was uninterested. Being in the same vicinity made your blood boil. She had the ability to kiss him in broad daylight—and didn’t even take advantage of it. No wonder Art came to you for his sexual needs. It seemed like she was plain and simple. If a boy likes you, date him. If he doesn’t, run away.

She doesn’t know how to take care of someone like Art. Someone like you.

“Anyways,” you look at your nails, tension in the air. “My parents what us to have lunch together. I can tell them you guys are busy.”

“No that sounds fun!” Tiffany chimes in, holding onto Art’s arm again. His eyes slightly widen, face paling into a white sheet. He ground his jaw.

“I’m actually really tire—“

Tiffany tugged on his arm, whining in a tone that made you want to pierce your ears. “Please babe…”

“Yeah,” you smirk, thinking of a fun idea. Art’s eyes instantly met yours, a worried look crossing his features. While his girlfriend was looking at him, your tongue poked out and swirled around the straw—his teeth gritting at the sight. You noticed his fists ball at his sides. Tiffany looks at you, beaming excitedly. You send her a fake smile,

“You should taste this slushie I had last week. It was super creamy.”

“Alright let’s go.” Art grabs Tiffany, dragging her over to find your parents. You giggle to yourself, enjoying seeing him flustered.

“My mother is a Stanford graduate. That’s actually where Art and I met.”

Tiffany wouldn’t stop rambling about the history of her and Art. It was driving you literally insane. Your father helped himself to his club sandwich, barely listening to what she was even saying. Your mother on the other hand was absolutely ecstatic for the couple, sharing her own experiences about meeting your father.

You picked at your salad, glancing at the fair haired boy. He had been sipping his coffee—clearly uncomfortable with this entire situation. You decided to tease him a bit, taking advantage of the fact that you were seated beside him. Brushing your heel against his calf, he suddenly jerked, catching the attention of everyone at the table.

He cleared his throat, “Uh—a bee. It flew away.”

“Right. You remember that time we went to Cuba for that tournament, sweetie.”

He hummed, pulling out a cigarette from his back pocket. Tiffany made a face, “If you’re going smoke, at least go to the parking lot. Everyone’s eating.”

Jesus. What a bitch.

“I don’t mind,” your mother placed her hand on Tiffany’s. She smiled warmly at Art afterwards. “Bradford used to chain smoke those things until I eased him off then. Looks like we’ll have to do the same thing to you.”

Art returned her smile, ignoring Tiffany’s eye roll, sparking the cigarette. “_ _. Tell them about how you used to dance in the bathroom with my old tennis racket. It was the cutest thing. She’d be naked—“

“Actually, I’m gonna spark one up too. I’ll go to the parking lot though so no one complains.”

“I’ll come with you,” Art shot up, offering a nervous smile to everyone. “I just—feel so guilty.”

“Okay kids. We’ll be here.”

“What the fuck, _ _?”

You never thought it would be so hilarious to see someone smoking a cigarette whilst looking immensely frazzled. As soon as the two of you reached the back parking lot, out of sight of people, Art let you know how he truly felt. Fortunately, you weren’t in much of a talkative mood, so you listened patiently whilst finishing your cigarette.

“Not only are your parents here—but your mom loves my girlfriend. This fucked situation just got entirely more fucked.” He ran a hand through his light strands, pacing back and forth.

“I hate when she does shit like this.”

“Who?” You mumbled, leaning your back against the wall.

“Tiff!” His hands flew in the air, shaking his head. “She always pops up unannounced. I hate that kind of shit. She has no respect for my time nor schedule. I mean—what makes her think she can crash my lesson? “

“Why are you even with her?”

Art looked at you with a sudden calmness. It was as if your words urged him to think.

“I….don’t know.”

That made you pause. The cigarette burnt as the both of you stared at one another. For the first time, he was expressing his feelings. It was different than usual. “She doesn’t let you breathe. You’re a free soul, and she wants to keep it caged. You won’t stay with her for long. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I guess I like her company. She’s always there for me when I need it,” he shrugged, standing beside you. He looked away from you, “But if it came to actually being in love with her—I couldn’t tell you. She doesn’t accept me for me.”

“Then she’s a fucking idiot,” you smirk, “—because you’re like…kinda cool I guess.”

His eyes twinkled, your gaze meeting once again. You smirk was met by a sheepish smile from him.

“You’re pretty aggressive, you know that?”

“You love it.”

His eyes fell to your lips. “We should stop sneaking around, _ _. This is going too far.”

You laughed, throwing the cigarettes off the ground before crushing it with your heel. “C’mon, lover boy.”

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter one: southern nights

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI), nothing explicit in this part but future parts will be

series summary: 

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 4.4k

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), mild alcohol use, mentions of food/eating, pet name (sweetheart), polite southern manners (*cough* sir *cough*), feeling familial and self pressure

“I can see a truck pulling up now! C’mere, see if you can get a glimpse of them. You’ve got better eyes.”

Your mother is standing at the side of the picture window in your living room, attempting to stealthily get a good look at the new neighbors moving in next door. Her hand waves you over from where you’re standing at the bottom of the stairs, disheveled from the sleep that is still fogging most of your brain.

You definitely have to be half asleep because you comply with your mother’s urgent pleas, the bottoms of your bare feet sticking to the humid wood floors. You are fresh-air people, as your mother says, leaving all the windows and doors open for as long as humanly possible in the summer. It only lasts for the first few weeks of warmer weather, and eventually, everything gets sealed up and the house becomes a frigid ice box with the way your parents crank the air conditioning. Peeling your feet off the floor one last time, you stop in front of the glass.

Standing next to your mother, fully visible in the open window, you study the moving truck that’s pulled into the driveway adjacent to yours.

A local company. Must already be from Austin.

Behind the massive truck, a navy blue Ford pickup that you don’t recognize coasts down the asphalt, getting thrown into park in front of the lawn of the vacant house. Two men, maybe early thirties if you had to guess, climb out of the driver’s side and passenger seat, already talking over each other.

The one at the passenger side has dark brown, nearly black hair that looks just long enough to need a trim and frames his face with curls. Fairly tall, firm build. The white ribbed tank top that he’s wearing hugs his torso underneath the green shirt thrown on over it, buttons undone. He has a shit-eating grin on his face about something that must have been said, hand banging on the side of the car before he walks back towards the bed to grab a cardboard box out of it.

The other, the one that’s come out of the driver’s side, looks a bit older than the passenger. Much more cropped, but still messy, lighter brown hair sweeps down onto his forehead, the back of it curling up slightly at the nape of his neck. Definitely could use a haircut, too, but the bedhead is endearing. A hand reaches up to scratch at the trim beard and mustache that he’s sporting, the facial hair framing his strong jaw nicely. His eyebrows are furrowing in frustration or annoyance, or maybe a bit of both while his head shakes back and forth at whatever his companion joked about. He makes the grumpy stare charming, and you suddenly have the thought that you’d like to know if he’s always got that crease in his brow or if that’s only reserved for the man who was unpacking the truck now. The muscles in his biceps flex as he shuts his door, t-shirt pulling taut over his chest as he steps to open the rear door, a grin growing on his face.

Out from the backseat pops the most adorable little girl you’ve seen. Looks to be about seven or eight years old, maybe, with tiny, sweet features and dressed in a lilac shirt and denim Bermuda shorts. She’s got voluminous, kinky curls that show off natural highlights in the Texas sunshine. She’s giggling and giddy, reaching for the man who opened the door to help her down from the raised truck. He scoops her up, a shriek of laughter coming from the little girl as he slings her over his shoulder. More muscles flex in his back as he carries the weight easily, walking back to the bed of the pickup to grab some bags out of it to bring inside.

So tunnel-visioned on the vignette of family life playing out in front of you, you didn’t even think that you could be seen. A voyeur of your street, you forget that your curtains are drawn, the window is open, and a large pane of clear glass is the only thing in front of you. As if he could feel the burn of your stare, the eyes observing his movements, the man carrying the little girl turns towards your house. His stare catches your own that was already trained on him, a friendly smile plastered to his face as he raises the hand holding the girl in a short wave.

Mortifying. The first impression that your new neighbor, your attractive new neighbor, had of you was you, standing in ratty cotton sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt, hair falling out of the hair tie at the back of your head. Heat warmed your cheeks and the back of your neck at the embarrassment of being caught, and of being caught in this outfit.

Your mother next to you erupts in laughter, turning away from the window as you grumble under your breath about that interaction being her fault. Trudging back up the stairs to get ready for the day, annoyance is still twisted in your expression. You skip back down the stairs to the kitchen, dressed and hair fixed up, skidding into the open room to see your dad at the table alone, the newspaper in his hand with the job listing page already pulled out and set at your usual spot.

“Morning, kiddo.”

“G’morning, Dad.”

Sliding into the wooden chair at the kitchen table, you start to look over the listings in search of a summer position to occupy your time at home before you start your last year of university in the fall. There are a few postings for dogwalkers, hostesses, and waitresses that you’ve already seen or applied to in the last week. A couple of bartending jobs catch your eye, thinking about the tips to be made, but your thoughts quickly deflate when they require state licensing.

A huff of disappointment rolls from your lips when your mom comes back inside through the door to the garage, an artful smile pulling at her lips. She’s looking directly at you, the expression making you uneasy in anticipation of whatever news or plan she’s concocted. Your mother meddles, in the most loving way possible, but she can’t help but stick her nose in everyone’s business. So the next words out of her mouth really shouldn’t surprise you, but they do make your stomach turn with newfound anxiety.

“So, I just met the new neighbors. Well, one neighbor and his daughter, I guess. The Millers. His name is Joel, and his daughter’s name is Sarah, she proudly told me she was seven years old and starting the second grade in the fall. The other guy we saw was his brother that he introduced me to, Tommy.”

You’re currently rereading the same job listing over and over again to avoid looking at your mom, feigning disinterest as you nod slowly at what she’s saying. At the same time, your nerves zip in excitement at knowing his name now, and you bite your tongue to ask your mom to continue, knowing she’d tease your eagerness.

Instead, you let her tell you about the rest of the brief interaction, recalling whichever neighborhood Joel had said they moved from and how he and his brother have lived in Austin their entire lives.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you both,” your mom addresses your father for the first time in the conversation, the call to his attention making him lower the newspaper to look at her, a silent nod getting her to continue, “I invited them over for a barbecue tonight to take a break from moving in and have a nice meal after their long day. I’m gonna need you to run to the store for me, and I’ll have to get to cleaning the house…”

Your mom’s plan for the day and list of chores trail off in your ears as a buzz muffles it. Your hot neighbor was coming over to your house, tonight, and you were going to have to face him after being caught blatantly staring.

How great for you.

The sliding screen door pulls shut behind you with a woosh and a click, returning to its pathetic job of keeping insects out of the house while letting the slightly cooler evening air in. Foamy flip-flops smack against the weather-worn oak wood deck as you shuffle over to the large silver grill that your dad commands. Steel wool scrapes against the metal grates of the inside; your dad’s bent over to get better leverage to clean all the burnt bits off.

The beach-themed melamine platter weighs heavy in your hands, covered with burgers, hot dogs, and brats - plus a couple of veggie burgers - to the point where the design of crustaceans and shells in the waves and beach towels laid out on the sand is completely disguised.

“I didn’t ask what they like to eat, so I got everything I could think of! You can’t assume these days with all these new folks moving to Austin, I’m trying to be considerate,” is what your mother said to you when you asked if she was planning to feed the whole block or a small army with the amount of food that was going on the grill. 

Don’t even get started on the sides.

You set the platter piled with meat on the webbed black iron patio table to the side of the grill, shuffling over to stand at the edge of the deck, overlooking the chlorine-blue pool water that shines in the slowly fading sunlight. Your parents had installed the in-ground pool the first summer you’d been home from college, jokingly claiming it was their way to make sure you came home every summer, and your brother, Chris, too when he went away to school a short two years after you.

To be honest, it may have been a joke, but it was definitely part of the reason you came back each summer. That, and you just felt more yourself, more at ease at home. It was your comfort zone, but after spending every school year pushing yourself out of your comfort zone academically and socially, you always wanted to return to the warm, sun-soaked home that you grew up in. Maybe that made you more dependent on your parents still, maybe your friends saw it as immature, but you knew what you wanted to do, and you weren’t going to suffer over break just to seem like “an adult” like your friends thought they did.

“You gonna go for a swim, kiddo?”

Your dad’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, focusing your eyes back from the wide aperture they had fallen into as you stood mesmerized by the water moving down below you. Clearing your throat, you cross your arms over your chest as you turn back to your dad at the grill, the clicks of the gas burners lighting aflame while he twists the dials at the front.

“Maybe later. Once this attempt of Mom’s to get the first gossip on the new neighbor is over.”

Your dad laughs softly at your lightly satirical joke at your mother’s expense, shaking his head and giving you one of those looks that says ‘just do as your mother says like you always do.’

“Well, you can relax plenty later. Just be on your best behavior for the neighbors, will ya?” He laughs at his own comment, the sarcasm coating the request he’d made. You’ve never made waves in your family, in your friend group, in your neighborhood. Always known as the “sweet girl” to your older neighbors, the “golden child” to your peers and your family. Your initially reserved nature gives everyone the impression that you are a polite, kind Southern belle. If only they could read minds.

Flip flops thwacking with each step as you cross the deck again, slipping inside through the sliding door. Skating past the kitchen quickly before your mom can rope you into helping with more preparation, you take the stairs two at a time to get up to your room to get ready.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that there was a small part of you that was excited to meet Joel. The majority of you burns with embarrassment and is dreading having to face him after getting caught in your voyeurism this morning, but with how attractive he was, it could be a bit fun to have him as a neighbor next door.

Which is why you’re standing in front of your full-length mirror, hair fixed up from the state it was in when he first saw you and a short, light blue sundress on. Eyelets and embroidery covered the dress, the square neckline was framed by cap sleeves. It was modest enough to keep your intentions for dressing up hidden from your parents, but it was revealing enough to make you feel confident to face your hot neighbor for an official introduction.

The next half an hour is spent following your mom’s instructions, most of them being silent points of her finger while she’s absorbed in another task. Every so often you make eye contact with Chris through the patio door, him in the middle of the same treatment from your dad out by the grill.

At one point, your mom is so tunnel-visioned that when you finish the last assignment she’d given you, you slip out to where your dad and brother are now lounging in the chairs around the table on one side of the deck. The metal scrapes against the wood as you pull out one and take a seat, sighing gratefully when Chris passes you a beer from the cooler next to him. The cap twists off with a hiss and a pop, the water from the melted ice dripping onto your chest. As you tip the bottle to your lips and dab off the water before it runs down your skin to the neckline of your dress, the Millers walk up the steps at the side of the deck, tumbling greetings over each other.

Your dad stands, your brother behind him as they take a few steps to meet Joel and Tommy halfway. Polite handshakes are exchanged while you get up out of your seat, beer left on the table to go get the embarrassment over with.

Sarah stands shyly next to her dad, her little shoulder completely encompassed by her dad’s hand as she looks up at all the men around her starting to talk about the latest Astros game. You smile softly at her and give her a wave as you move to stand with everyone, a slight smile growing on her face at someone acknowledging her. She steps away from her subtle hiding place next to Joel, the movement causing Joel to glance down at her before his eyes turn up to you.

A friendly smile ticks up one side of his mouth, brown eyes speckling with caramel highlights as he squints in the sunlight to take a step forward and reach out his hand to you.

“I’m Joel, the new neighbor.”

You give him a firm, polite handshake with a warm grin attached to it, nodding your head. 

Please dear God, or whatever is out there, don’t let him mention this morning.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir. Hope today hasn’t been too much of a nightmare moving in.” Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you can’t help but feel them turn to butterflies when his eyes darken ever so slightly at the word ‘sir’, hand quickly falling out of yours and resting back on Sarah’s shoulder as he clears his throat quietly.

“Hasn’t been too bad, right bug? You wanna introduce yourself?” His eyebrows raise encouragingly to his daughter and the nickname warms your heart, watching as Sarah grows more confident to stand up straight, a smile on her face.

“My name’s Sarah,” she directs towards you and then turns to her dad, waving him to crouch down to her level so she can whisper at the not-so-subtle kid's volume, “What do I say after that?”

Joel chuckles lightly and whispers back to her quietly enough for you not to hear. He stands up straight again, watching Sarah.

“It’s nice to meet you, miss!” she turns to Joel again, beaming proudly, “Is that right?”

He nods and looks back at you as you laugh softly, a wide smile on your face from the adorable and incredibly polite greeting Sarah’s given you. His own smile pulls larger as you bend down to be at eye level with her, warmth emanating from you introduce yourself just as Sarah did and fall into conversation with her.

She tells you all about her last school year in the first grade, her favorite toys, and how excited she is for her summer camp. The two of you have moved to sit next to each other on the outdoor couch, your drink forgotten next to you as you listen to the bubbly seven-year-old.

Joel and Tommy stay in conversation with your dad and Chris near the grill, standing around in a semi-circle and making small talk about sports, weather, and the sturdiness of your deck. Joel and Tommy mentioned having a contracting business together, and your dad ran with it, asking them every question under the sun about the longevity of the build that was done a few years ago.

Your mom comes out to join them for a bit, sitting with you and Sarah as you talk with each other before she gathers all the meat fresh off the grill to bring inside and finish setting up everything.

A few more minutes pass before your mom pops her head out and calls everyone in to make a plate. You stand up and wait for Sarah to climb off the couch, following behind her bouncy curls. Everyone’s made it through the door ahead of you, except for Joel as he lingers to wait for his daughter. One of his hands finds her head as he carefully ushers her inside, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“Thanks for keeping her entertained. She loves to talk, doesn’t really get that from me,” he drawls out, his accent a bit thicker than yours. You shake your head, waving a hand at him to dismiss him.

“She’s the one keeping me entertained, I’m surprised I’m not boring her with my lack of summer plans to discuss. She’s very excited for day camp,” you chuckle quietly, still standing less than a foot from Joel at the sliding door. You can smell the body wash he must’ve used in the shower before coming over, fresh eucalyptus and birch mixing with the richer cedarwood and bergamot of what you assume is his cologne.

“Oh, yeah. Big time. She was begging me to sign her up finally this year and it made sense with my work schedule getting busier. But, still, thanks for hanging out with her.” He nods toward the door, gesturing for you to walk in ahead of him. His hand hovers behind your back as you step in ahead of him, fingers brushing your dress lightly before he quickly pulls them away.

You stand to the side to let the guests go through to get their food first, Joel helping Sarah put everything she wants onto a plate while balancing his own. Tommy happily starts eating what’s already on his plate halfway through the line, earning a jab in the side from his older brother. Once everyone’s gotten what they wanted, you all pile back outside to the deck to sit around and eat.

The table isn’t large enough for everyone, so it ends up being your parents, Chris, and Tommy sitting around it while you, Joel, and Sarah sit around the patio lounge set. Sarah happily sits on the ground at the coffee table, you slipping a cushion down for her to rest on before sitting in one of the chairs across from the couch.

Joel’s settled next to his daughter, facing you as he wipes his mouth with his napkin.

“So, uh, your dad said you’re going into your last year at TCU? What’re you studying?”

“Public Relations and Advertising. I’m hoping—”

“She wants to move to Boston!” Sarah interjects with a mouthful of hotdog bun.

Joel looks at her with a gently reprimanding look, “Bug, please don’t talk with your mouth full. ‘S not polite.”

He turns back to you after patting his daughter’s curls, lips curled up to one side.

“Boston, huh? What’s all the way up there?”

“Not here,” you laugh softly, shrugging your shoulders as you stab a piece of potato salad with your fork, “I love Austin, don’t get me wrong, but living here my whole life and going to school only three hours away in Fort Worth feels like I haven’t seen much outside of Texas. Plus, there’re some good agencies up there and it’s not as scary of a move like New York or Los Angeles would be.”

Joel nods in understanding, speaking up after he finishes a bite, “I get that. Haven’t lived anywhere but Austin my whole life, but I can understand wanting to experience new things.”

You might be imagining things, but you swear you can hear his voice drop deeper in the last half of his sentence. It sends a flutter between your legs, and the back of your neck burns with chagrin.

Conversation continues to flow easily between you and Joel, and Sarah, too. Your parents don’t ask you to help clean up because you’re so invested, laughing quietly at his subtle humor and smiling widely when Sarah adds in her commentary or tells a story.

Tommy and Chris join you all on the lounge furniture, falling into a wider group discussion of neighborhood politics and what fun things you and Chris got up to when you were around Sarah’s age.

Joel’s eyes stay trained on you whenever you're speaking, even glancing at you when you’re both listening to someone else. The eye contact from him stirs your stomach and hitches your breath, your own stare avoiding his when it gets a bit too intense.

Hours are consumed quickly, the twilight blue skies dimming your backyard so that only the porch and string lights illuminate the deck. Low light and the late hour have soothed Sarah to sleep, her small frame tucked into Joel’s side. He keeps a hand on her back while she rests, everyone looking at her tenderly.

Joel asks you and your mom if you know of any other neighbors with young kids that are going to the park district day camp for the summer, wondering if there’s a possibility to carpool or arrange some care for Sarah when he’s got a busy schedule.

Not knowing anything yourself since you don’t live here full time anymore, you turn to your mom and watch as the gears turn in her head, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Actually, haven’t you been looking for a summer job, honey? Maybe you could nanny Sarah! Drop her off when Joel can’t, pick her up every day, and watch her until Joel gets home from work. That is, if you’d be interested in that, Joel.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to stutter out a response, feeling a bit flustered at your mom’s out-of-the-blue suggestion. Plus, you aren’t sure you could manage to work for your hot neighbor and to see him often; it was one thing to have a crush and pine freely from afar, but spending time in his house? Seeing him every day?

Your thighs press together as your mind races with thoughts about more of Joel in all aspects.

Being the ever-so-polite Southern daughter you were raised to be, you turn to Joel with a glittering smile and nod despite the stomach acid creeping up your throat with your nerves.

“I’d love to help out if you need it. Spending my summer with Sarah would be fun.”

At your confirmation of the offer, Joel pauses for a moment to look down at his sleeping daughter, heading swinging back to you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Guess that solves my problem then. Think you can start next week? Her first day is Wednesday.”

Arrangements are made with Joel as the Miller crew gets ready to leave, your own family have said their goodbyes and retiring inside to clean up after the night. Joel and you stand on the deck next to the stairs that lead to your side yard and over to their house. He shifts on his feet, passing Sarah from his arms to Tommy’s for his younger brother to get her home.

Joel’s arms stretch up briefly, giving you the slightest peek at the bottom of his stomach when his t-shirt lifts. Saliva floods your mouth as the thought of kissing there when you’re on your knees for him passes through your mind quickly. 

Stop thinking about him like that. Yeah, he’s hot but he’s also now going to be employing you.

“Thanks again for offering to nanny, Sarah. She’s gonna be real excited when I tell her in the mornin’. You sure you don’t wanna take the out now?” His hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, a coy smile on his face.

“It’s really no problem at all. Like I said, I think it will be a fun summer.” 

There’s no hidden meaning to your words, but for some reason Joel drops your stare after you speak, glancing down at his boots before he raises his head again, his smile a hint wider.

His drawl coats the words as he replies, “Well, it’s definitely gonna be somethin’, sweetheart.”

Joel turns on the heel of his boot, bounding down the short staircase and over toward his yard. He looks back once, a short wave raised towards you as he calls out a ‘goodnight’ to your frozen frame on your deck.

The front door of the Miller house clicks closed and you finally exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Slow movements carry you inside and up to your room, flopping down to your bed on your back. One had rested on your stomach filled with butterflies, the other over your heart to feel the quickened rhythm.

Joel was right, this summer was definitely going to be something. And you were eager to find out what exactly it could be.

series taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (23)*

Happy Sunday release day everyone!

Just a reminder that chapters marked with * contain NSFW content! Read with discretion.

Enjoy!

-----------

The next morning you wake up early and sit in your window sill reading silently. After a while, Pansy gets up and starts to get ready for the quidditch match.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” She asks.

“Oh…I don’t think I’m gonna go today.” You say, putting your book down.

“Ok well I can already tell you who else won’t be going…” she throws her hair up before continuing, “you two need to talk.”

“I know…” you say quietly. You were scared to talk to Mattheo. Scared of what it meant for the two of you. You guys hadn’t gotten in a fight yet at all and you blurted out something you shouldn’t have. You had no idea what this was going to lead to.

Pansy leaves the dorm shortly after that, leaving you alone. You change into leggings but keep on the shirt you wore to bed…Mattheo’s shirt.

You had to stare at yourself in the mirror for 10 minutes before finally deciding to leave and go talk to him. You had to get it over with.

You walk over to his dorm, thinking about turning around with every step. When you finally reach his door, you lightly knock. There’s no answer so you open the door slowly.

“Matty?” You ask as you open the door. The room is empty with the lights off. He wasn’t here.

You close the door and leave the slytherin house, walking outside. You knew where he was. You find him on the bench, your bench drawing in his sketchbook.

You walk up beside him and sit down, him not acknowledging you.

“Matty…” you say quietly, your arms crossed because of the cold.

He doesn’t respond at all, continuing to sketch.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it, I was just so mad.” You say softly, you felt like you were skating on thin ice.

Mattheo’s pencil stops moving, “I don’t want to be like them.”

“Hey, look at me.” You cup his face, making him turn to look at you, “You are not your parents. Do you hear me? You are not them.” 

You can tell his eyes are a little glossed over but he’s trying to hold it back.

“Mattheo I love you so, so much. Never in a million years could I think that you’ll become them, not for a second. You’re too good.” You hug him tightly, him reciprocating. His sketchbook and pencil fall to the ground but neither of you care.

After a minute, you back away. The silence hangs in the air for a few minutes before you remember his things had fallen. You bend over to pick his book and pencil off of the floor, “you look good in my shirt baby” 

“Ok now you’re trying to get in my pants” you laugh, setting the book down as he pulls you in and kisses you.

“I can’t help it, my girlfriends hot” he smiles as he continues to kiss you.

“Oh mi amor, you make my heart flutter” you whisper back.

He backs away, standing up and holding his hand out to lift you up.

“What?” You laugh.

“Don’t think you can say that and not get fucked into the next century” Mattheo says, your eyes widening.

“Mattheo!” You laugh, he was so horny but somehow you weren’t surprised.

“Oh don’t go shy on me now.”

You stand up, taking his hand, “ok fine, let’s go lover boy”

He grabs his book and you both practically run back to his dorm. As soon as you shut and lock the door behind you, you’re both ripping off clothes, desperately trying to touch each other sooner.

“I need you” you breath in between kisses, “right now” 

You help him unbuckle his pants and pull them down as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt. 

As he kisses you roughly, he pushes you back onto the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows as he puts on the condom.

He climbs on top of you, dropping down and kissing your neck, leaving hickies for sure.

Your hands explore his back, scratching at him, desperate for more, “Matty please”

“Ok baby” he lifts himself up off of you and lines himself up with you before slowly inserting himself, “still so tight for me”

He was…big. And you knew that but with the last few weeks being so busy, it had been a while.

You arch your back, your hair definitely getting tangled against the pillow. You reach for the sheets around you, desperate to grab onto anything.

“Ohhh” you close your eyes, feeling too much all at once.

“No, open your eyes” he breathes out as he pumps in and out at a slow but solid pace.

You open them, staring at himself with your mouth slightly agape, “you’re insane” you could barely get out.

He continues his strokes, quickening his pace.

“Fuck” he says, feeling you soaking wet around him.

You start to play with your nipples as you throw your head back, mattheo finding your g-spot.

He rests one of his hands on your stomach, the other holding up one of your legs.

“Matty I’m almost there” you breathe out, making sure to watch him the entire time.

“Cum for me baby” he whispers right before you reach your high.

He continues pumping in and out as you take deep breaths, finding it hard to see anything but stars.

Only a few moments later does he fill the condom with his own orgasm, pulling out of you. You stay lying there, still trying to catch your breath and touch back down to reality.

Mattheo wipes you off before laying on the bed next to you. You turn your head to him, “make up sex is the best actually”

“Oh for sure” he agrees before you lean in and kiss him, this time soft and tender.

You take Mattheo’s hand in yours and hold your arms up, staring at his veins showing.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing…” you laugh.

“No, I see you staring” Mattheo calls you out.

You drop your hands, still keeping yours intertwined with his, “so what? I just find your arms attractive”

“What don’t you find attractive about me?” He asks. You weren’t sure if he was being serious.

“Well for starters, your horniness. I just can’t keep you off me” you laugh, joking.

“you’re such a brat” Mattheo watches you, smiling as you play with your hands, not looking at him.

“Yeah maybe but I’m your brat” you smile, looking back at him finally.

“Absolutely you are,'' you two stare into each other's eyes for a moment.

“Alright, I’ll be right back” you say trying to get up but Mattheo doesn’t let go of your hand, “just give me 2 minutes” you laugh. You lean in and kiss him before he lets go.

You grab your clothes and walk into the bathroom, coming out dressed a few minutes later. Mattheo has put shorts and a t-shirt on and was laying back down waiting for you.

“See I told you” you say as you climb back onto the bed and lie down, resting your head on his chest.

“Did Pansy tell you what happened last night?” Mattheo asks you, his hand resting on your arm.

“No, what happened?” You ask.

“Theo finally hooked up with someone” 

“Oh?” He hadn’t been with anyone since you. It didn’t even feel awkward to talk about it since you were with Mattheo now but it was a bit of a shock.

“Oh yeah. I saw them myself. When I came down from the astronomy tower last night, I almost walked in on them. Luckily, the girl was not quiet, whoever she was.” Mattheo laughs.

“Are you serious?!” You turn and look up at Mattheo in shock.

“Dead serious. I left so quick” Mattheo responds, nodding his head.

“Wow, good for Theo” you say, resting your head on his chest again, “can I tell you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“So after you walked in on him and I last year…” you pause as mattheo takes a deep breath, “ I didn’t finish so I went back to my dorm and…”

“You did not…” he says, smirking. You sit up and look back at him.

“I pictured you as I masterbated.” You finish. You cover your eyes with your hands, “oh it’s so embarrassing”

“If by embarrassing, you mean incredibly hot then yes it is” he sits up as well.

“I never told Theo obviously because I never intended to do it again but then over the summer…I did it again”

“Good to know I was in your thoughts” he smirks, obviously satisfied with himself. “You know I wonder if I was in that girl's thoughts last night, obviously Theo doesn’t get the job done…” he trails off, still teasing.

“Okay, well if you’re just gonna tease…” you pretend to start getting up but Mattheo grabs your arms and pulls you back into him, kissing you.

“No you don’t pretty girl,” he says in between kisses.

Taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @hatakemrs @iamdnb @cindyss @swamp-box @schaebickel @princessluvssleep @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss

[missmarveledsblog]

Hand on heart ( Jake Seresin x Singlemom!reader)

Chapter three

summary : as the nerves of the first day working , she bumps into a old unexpected friend which leads to mav finding out something he wished hadn't , her brother and sister in law take belle a day earlier and jake really starting to rethink his old ways.

warning : slight angst but not much , mostly fluff

previous part

Nerves hit the moment her eyes opened , the first day of her new job working with the navy of all things , irony of it still part of it somehow and yet not at all in the same breathe .  stretching out checking the  monitor seeing belle was also walking her little ass up .   she pulled her underwear on not caring as she got her clothes and overall ready .  as she ran into the toddler , t-shirt on underwear only hear a knocking on her door.  Rushing to her room throwing her over alls on tying  the top part around her waste as they headed to see who was at her door.  What she didn’t expect was hangman standing there bag in hand and coffee in the other. 

“ cluedo come on in  just gonna get belle diaper changed and then i’ll be with you “ she yawned . 

“ take your time strawberry  , i brought you guys breakfast since your first day and all and thank you for breakfast yesterday “ he smiled . 

“ well ain’t you a sweetheart , ya know where kitchen is  we will be back “ she called just as another knock at her door was heard . “ could you get that “ she yelled out . 

“ erm sure “ he nodded shaking his head as he opened door to see nat and rooster standing food and coffee in their hands . 

“ bagman?” the two head tilted . 

“ what you guys doing here ?” 

“ we should be asking you same thing “ nat pushed past . 

“ i came with coffee and food for her first day “ he shrugged. 

“ why you being nice … your after her aren’t you “ rooster gasping and wide eyed as nat  arching her brow almost sizing him up . 

“ no  its for her first day and thank her for breakfast it a southern thing you wouldn’t understand “ he rolled his eyes  was he lying out of his ass  , yes  he was . Did they need to know , no they did not . 

“ oh hey guys “ she appeared placing belle down toddler running  well sort of running down the hall stopping in from of rooster her little pacifier in her mouth as she help her little arms out at the man . Almost spilling  the coffee and food on nat when he shoved them in her arms. 

“ hey belle my little princess  how are we this morning “ he heading off into the kitchen as the followed after nat still eyeing jake suspiciously .  she ate the food  they bought leaving nats iced coffee for when she was driving as they talked away  about all different things filling the space as she moved around getting ready  once she did get  belle dressed and  gang heading out the door as  jake and bradley  where talking about the game coming up  that when her head spun to the  men . 

“ got my jersey ready “ she smiled brightly  and proudly  . 

“ your a football fan?” both men asked shocked. 

“ i grew up only girl in house filled with boys most time what you think “ she rolled her eyes .  “ you guys wanna come over watch it ?” she asked. 

“ oh your bigger than ours tv no brainer . 

“ good belle is going to my best friend cara’s for weekend  she like take her time to time give me a break but help it her aunt and my sister in law “ she smiled. 

“ wait means we can bring you to the hard deck after game “ phoenix eyes lit up . 

“ i guess it does better get going i’ll see  you at the hanger “ she waved.

Nerves once more hit as she parked  her car seeing  Mav standing with another man she knew as admiral beau simpson  one she spent going back and forth with on to get her well here . she honestly didn’t think it would end as it did but seems as though the man really did think she was the best. 

“ hey peach good to see you , you excited for your first day ?” Mav walked over. 

“ yes sir i am ready to go “ she beamed. 

“ captain mitchells been telling me you’ve been spending time with the dagger squad already that good to know your team “ beau nodded eyeing her up not expecting well her since most of their contact was over the phone. 

“ their great bunch sir , very welcoming “ 

“ you know i can’t believe it i noticed only after we talked it was you far gone since  the little girl i seen all those years ago “ he nodded as they began to walk in . 

“ sorry ? “ 

“ i was stationed in texas for little bit back in the day your grandfather was my commanding officer was even around after you were born “ he smiled. 

“ wait a  second … your dude tripped up the clown at my birthday party cause he scared hell out of me .. bowie “ her eyes went wide. 

“ bowie ?” Mav looked between the two . 

“  beau .. bowie  cause heroes it made sense when i was kid “ she shrugged. 

 “ hows your mom “ he asked more softer a look in his eyes  that didn’t go unnoticed by mav . 

“ i think she’s in vegas or L.A  not too sure don’t hear much from her “ she shifted awkwardly . 

“ well we will let you get to work kiddo  please bring little one to hanger sometime love to meet her” he nodded . 

“ will do she will lose her little mind “ she snorted. 

“ i’ll be there in a minute you go ahead “ mav patted her shoulder and she headed off seeing the other standing waiting for her. 

“ you knew her ? “ mav asked. 

“ course i did  i mean not til after and look more into her file  ,  was stationed there from since before she was born till she was six “ 

“ her mom …friend of yours “ 

“ in a way look …“ 

“ what way beau ?” 

“ she and that loser spilt for a while she cleaned up her act … thought we would be …  then i found out she and he still  ..”  he never was nervous man , yet here he was stuttering to mav. 

“ is she yours ?” he finally asked . 

“ no  no i was told she was mikes , leah said  she was certain “ 

“ your not too sure are you  why not reach out and see.. shit is that why you brought her here trying to make  up years of not being around “ mav stood . 

“ no i picked her cause she the best ,the fact she could be my daughter is no play in this now keep what we talked about to yourself i need to figure if i wanna do this “ 

“ do what beau pretend to be the  hero of  her childhood or another father in her life that didn’t bother  … yeah i’m not going to be the one to break that but we both know what you should do because she not alone she got a little girl  “ he scoffed walking off no even knowing where to even process the information he had just learned .   

Beau felt sick , he’s been feeling sick since he discovered who she was til her brother reached out asking beau to look out for her then it all came crashing reality. Knowing what he knew and added possibility of being a father and grandfather, he should of made it known all those years been a man but he was young and wanting to rise in ranks the immaturity evident even back then.  He never lost contact though part of him couldn’t and yet the coward in him would converse with others than her . now here she was  , seeing her daily  was it just the better thing of getting to know her again before dropping the bombshell or should he rip the band aid off but she could quit and go leave before he even got the chance to know the woman she was the whole thing was big fucked up mess with a bow tied on top .  so now he was sitting in his office trying to convince himself later would be better  , later bought he more time .  

She didn’t know why she was so nervous moment she got into the hangar she was straight into work almost bouncing around the place  . she wondered how the  machines were even running  first was nats  as she spotted the landing was more shaky then other although they were still no better as she  climbed the ladder getting to work . she also noticed the shit in pete mitchell the man was looking at her like she looked at dogs on those shelter commercials , at one point she was sure he was going to hug her before patting her back and telling her she did a good job as she and rooster eyes followed the man confused.  As she walked into the cafeteria she almost surprised when admiral simpson called her to join her as they other looked even more confused. 

“ family friend “ she shrugged . 

“ we’ll see you after “ nat smiled although her eye looked back to the admiral something didn’t sit right with how the man was looking at her it wasn’t good or bad but it was weird. 

“ sir how are you “ she smiled softly taking a seat . 

“ please kid call me beau or bowie if you want” he chuckled nervously. 

“ with all due respect even if you were my grandfather i would address you as sir at work “ she shook her head. 

“ ok ok fair enough how have you been i can’t believe the little girl  i used to know was the one  battling it out with me on the phone “ . 

“ negotiating  with you on phone , i’m good i mean i got belle and she is light of my life and my brothers  , i guess you heard my grandmama passed away “ she sighed a little sadly. 

“ i did when i got home i was deployed at the time no contact i wish i could of made it “ 

“ it’s ok her own daughter didn’t even come but i got other family that did that’s all that matters “ she shrugged. 

“ belle she what two ? “ he asked shifting seeing her eyes starting to well alittle but mention of her daughter had her beaming again . 

“ yeah she is ,  she is  cutest little thing everyone says she like me , benny is sure she is my little clone wanna see a picture “ she asked already pulling her phone out .  

“ y-ye-yeah  “ he hand held out as he looked down he could of sworn he was looking at her as a baby  making his chest tighten and guilt and every emotion building up more and more before he handed back the phone . “ she’s beautiful i’d love to meet her , what about her father does he help ?”  . 

“ nah my ex husband is currently  remarried on other side of the word he wasn’t ready for a baby not many are but hell she has me and my brothers adore her , dagger squad do as well even thought it been so short of time she is obsessed with them all “ she chuckled  making him smile only to look up see mav glaring at him . 

“ you got married ?” his eyes widened . 

“ stupidly yes i thought it would give belle the father i never had you know “she shook her head laughing how stupid she was at the time  they weren’t even in love at time but she thought it was right and so did he til reality set in . her words hitting him like a freight train . 

“ oh shit i have a meeting erm here “ he stood almost throwing his card . “ text me and we will have a catch up properly saturday ?”  . 

“ i’m busy but sunday before belle comes home she going to benny and cara’s for the weekend “ she stood .

“ great see you then “ he rushed off only for her to head to the others as mav passed by her giving her that strange look again . 

“ what’s with that man “ she shook her head.  

The rest of the day was easy enough little repairs here and there  as they all praised the fact their jet were running the best they have in a long time .  she was full of grease and oil by end of the day and ready to hit her bed she was so tired.  She picked up dinner before she collected belle  who seemed to be as tired or so she thought the new lease on life came the moment she stepped in the door as she set the toddler down  plating up their food she washed her face and hands first getting the oil off throwing on sweats she needed to wash knowing she would shower once the toddler was sleep and when the time did come  she didn’t even savor it  more a quick in and out washing the day away so she could get into her bed wondering what the week a head would hold fo her .

The week seemed to breese by each morning jake of all people showed up breakfast in hand til  come the fourth time she just opened the door letting him in as she went to get belle and herself ready while he was plating up the food . seemed it wasn’t a morning thing it was a quick and fast friend ship growing during the week it was sometimes him alone or with the dagger squad then thursday cara called to say they were coming earlier to get more time with belle so now she  she was sitting in her car as she saw her brother and cara  waiting only off one flight and ready for another .

“ y’all crazy doing this “ she hugged them both . 

“ we missed her and you .. wish you were coming too “ cara pouted . 

“ i will next time ok , you be good girl ok mama will see you in couple days “ . 

“ enjoy the break peach  … beau get in touch ?” he asked . 

“ yeah i see him everyday sometimes we get lunch why ?”

“ just asking  , oh i put in the request hopefully hear back soon come down here “ he smiled as cara rolled her eyes . 

“ we will be down here he ain’t gonna stop til we are”she laughed. 

“ we better go love you peach we  see you monday “ he called as she turned. 

“ but i thought it was sunday ?” 

“ it was we didn’t no whoops see you monday oh and i’m staying for couple days check out the base “ he added. 

“ why couldn’t you text me ?” she asked. 

“ because you come up with reasons to say no “ he smirked . 

“ by belle baby be good for aunt cara .. be an ass for benny “she rolled her eyes kissing the tot one more time before handing over her things . watching them walking she could see benny looking back giving her sad smile  then she sat in her eyes crying  to which she didn’t know why it was only couple of days but still  it was her baby .  she wiped her eyes and head to the hard deck knowing she promised to meet the guys their  after telling them belle was going maybe it was the distraction she needed . It also made her wonder of her mother how the woman was didn’t feel like this , belle was going for a couple of days and she was lost completely but her mother was able to leave and no take a look back it was astounding how she could do that . she pulled up to the hard deck it  felt different from the day they went  when it was closed people starting to head in as she saw jake standing outside a woman already talking to him  . 

He didn’t remember this chick and yet she was all over him like they did maybe  he was a hound dog. He wasn’t out here for her , he was waiting y/n  all day he could see  it eating away knowing she was thinking of some way to cancel and keep belle at home must of been hard on her that was for sure then he seen her car pulling up as he ignore whatever her name was . he watched as she was approaching the force smile on her face didn’t hide the redness of her eyes . 

“ i’ll see you in there if your not already to busy “ she chuckled looking to  the woman throwing herself at him before heading in the door . never was he embarrassed by his exploits hell he bragged about them like he was at a championship but now , now he was  telling the girl no  and heading in thinking off how to explain his way out of it not that he had to but he did in a sense . he seen her standing at the bar chatting away to penny and he could see them all looking almost waiting and  now he definitely was rethinking his policy on single moms because he couldn’t stand them looking at her like that , like he would with every woman he had met now this was different . 

“ i’m so fucked “ he groaned heading to the dagger squad instead of to the bar where he really wanted to go instead. ignoring the woman calling his name or his friends watching him like a hawk all he knew was he was well and truly fucked.