#imagine admitting you find your coworker cute than hooking up with a girl that same ep

[gregmarriage]

MADDIE CALLING CHIM CUTE AND BUCK THINKING SHE’S TALKING ABOUT EDDIE, HELLO????

[troubatrain]

four times matthew was a fuckboy + one time he wasn’t

a/n: a repost from my old blog!

I.

You didn’t hate Matthew Tkachuk. Hate is a strong word and you were too polite to hate anyone. But you definitely weren’t keen on the new company your friend had been keeping since she started seeing Matthew’s teammate, Noah. You were just different. You liked safety and rules, and Matthew put most of his energy into breaking every rule possible. He was a rat, and he didn’t give a damn who knew. You were a romantic, and you’d watch Matthew take a different girl home frequently, and you could only imagine what he was like on the road. He was a straight up fuckboy, and you’d just prefer to be as far away from him as possible. Besides the strong differences between each other, you really didn’t hate him - until, maybe, right now.

“I would never date Y/N,” Matthew scoffs at your best friend, Hannah, “She’s got a stick up her ass, all the time.” “I don’t have a stick up my ass Matthew,” You bark back, “You’re just a shitty person, and I don’t want to date you either.”

“Why? Am I not your type?” Matthew snarks back, “I’m everyone’s type.”

“No Matthew, egotistical professional athletes who don’t know anything besides hit and skate aren’t my type,” You say, “Hold an intellectual conversation with anyone and I’ll be impressed.”

“You know what, forget I mentioned it,” Hannah tries to interfere, but the way Matthew’s blue eyes were narrowed at you, his nostrils flaring out just a little bit meant it was too late and you were well on your way to spending the rest of the night arguing with Matthew.

“I don’t need to hold bullshit intellectual conversations to get laid Y/N,” Matthew grumbles, “I’m sure that’s only what terrible guys you probably date do.”

“I don’t date terrible guys,” You defend, but deep down, he was actually right about that. You were nearing the end of six months of being single since your last relationship ended and dating wasn’t going - well.

“Oh, I forgot, you probably only date boring guys,” Matthew huffs, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find someone who isn’t boring.”

Matthew stomps away, looking back to give you one more smirk that made your skin crawl. You couldn’t stand his smug smile, or the fact that he constantly gave you grief for being a good person. Or the time he accused  you of thinking you were better than everyone because you were smarter than them. 

“I can’t believe there was a point in my life where I thought you guys could be friends,” Noah says, shaking his head at the verbal battle you and Matthew just had, “I thought I could set you guys up - to date.”

“Why do you all think that?” You ask, looking at your friend and her boyfriend with actual concern.

“I don’t know, you’re sweet and nice and he’s not,” Noah shrugs, “It’s kind of cute.”

“Yeah, like imagine if you were the one to tame him,” Hannah says, wrapping her arm around her boyfriend's bicep while he pressed a kiss to her head - a reminder that you didn’t have that. Your eyes move to Matthew at the bar, while a girl was under his arm in less than five minutes.

“I don’t think anyone’s taming that monster,” You say, pointing to the man in question.

II.

When the weekend finally came around, you found yourself in the same situation you were in the week before. Matthew gave you daggers across the table while Noah and Hannah tried to convince the two of you to put your differences aside and be friends. Except, you didn’t want to be friends with Matthew, because you knew exactly how he treated his “friends”. In the past week alone, you’d watched him while he escaped a morning after with someone who happened to live in your building. You had the worst morning of your life when you stepped on the elevator only to meet with the face of the devil himself. You halted, stepping into the elevator and shaking your head at Matthew - asking him if he was leaving or your worst nightmare of him moving into your building was happening. He told you he was escaping from a booty call, his words not yours, and then joked about moving in just to bother you. You started bickering in the elevator, and then it made you late for work. That snowballed into missing an important meeting and you were cursing Matthew internally for the rest of the day.

“I just don’t understand why you both keep pushing this,” you shout, gesturing between Matthew and yourself, “We are not friends.”

“Yeah, she’s right,” Matthew agrees, for the first time since you’d been introduced to each other.

“Why is that the only thing you’ve ever agreed on?” Hannah asks, looking sincerely concerned at the two of you.

“Because his opinions on everything else are terrible,” You say, walking over to the bar to go get yourself a drink. You can feel a large presence behind you and you turn around to be met with Matthew’s smug smile again, “You can’t just leave me alone.”

“I’m getting another drink, not everything is about you,” Matthew remarks, flagging down the bartender far easier than you could have. He orders you both a drink, and you decide to just take it - too tired to argue. While you were waiting you scanned the bar, only to spot your ex boyfriend across the bar.

“Fuck,” you mutter, grabbing Matthew’s attention.

“God what did I do now?” Matthew groans, and then he follows your eyes, “Do you know that guy?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s my ex,” You say, dropping your drink, “Can you tell Hannah I left.”

“Wait no-,” Matthew says, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to him, “I’m going to leave after this, I’ll take an Uber with you.”

“Are you going to drop me off then go hook up with whoever lives in my building?” You ask, crossing your arms and looking at him.

“I’m going to get you home safely and whether or not I leave the building is none of your business,” Matthew argues back, his eyes flickering up to look behind you and a protective arm snakes around your waist.

“Is that Y/N?” You hear your ex’s familiar voice, and suddenly Matthew’s arm made more sense.

“Oh, Alex, hi,” You say, trying to ignore the burning sensation you felt under Matthew’s touch, but your anxiety about seeing your ex disappeared almost immediately, like with Matthew there nothing could hurt you.

“How are you?” Alex asks, “Is this your boyfriend? I didn’t think you’d move on after me.”

“Yeah,” Matthew cuts you off before you could deny it, “We were just heading out, you know we’ve got plans for the night.”

Matthew gave Alex a wink and a look that said not to fuck with him and grabbed your hand, pulling you out the bar. A part of you was pissed, like he’d just told your ex boyfriend that not only were you dating you were leaving your night out early to fuck. But a part you didn’t care about it, Alex was the worst, and even in that second he reminded you why you broke up in the first place, because he never stopped talking down to you.

“I can’t believe you dated someone who talks to you like that,” Matthew says, pulling out his phone to call an Uber, “Your taste in men is terrible.”

“Well he thinks I’m dating you, so my taste is terrible,” You say, sliding into the car once Matthew opens the door for you.

Matthew slides into the other side of the car, getting your Uber driving and asking him how his night is before turning to you, “Do you really think I’m that awful?”

Okay, yes, it was sweet that he protected you. Yes, it felt nice to have his arm around your waist. Yes, it was great to have your ex think you’re currently seeing a member of the Flames. Yes, it was nice that he’s taking you home. And yes, the way he spoke to the Uber driver when you got in was actually more polite than you assumed he was to strangers. But, none of that meant he was a decent human being - at least not to you.

“I mean you’ve never given me a reason to think otherwise,” You say, shrugging.

“I’ll give you a reason,” You heard him mutter, but his face said he didn’t want to talk about it, so you let it go until you rode up the elevator to your floor in silence.

“Hey Matthew,” You say, voice small, “Thanks for getting me home, and for before, I owe you one.”

“I don’t think you want to be indebted to me,” Matthew says, his signature smirk gracing his face.

“One favor, nothing sexual,” You wave your finger at him while the elevator closes, sending him to whoever he was meeting on a floor above you.

III. 

You were swearing off men. That was it. You were sitting in a restaurant in the city, in a dress that made you look straight up hot, across from someone who made Matthew look like a saint. Paul was a friend of one of your coworkers, who raved about her friend who was intelligent and kind. Intelligent, yes definitely. But kind? At the moment that seemed far fetched. He’d spent the entire dinner talking about himself, and when you finally got to talk about yourself, he was just condescending and rude. You’d suffered through dinner, declining his invitation home. You heard his hollers about much of a tease and how uptight you were. You walked home, on a mission to get home and pretend this date never happened. Then you’d pass a bar you’d been to with Hannah a few times and decide to stop in - in need of a well deserved drink.

“There’s no way you should be here alone, dressed like that,” You can hear a familiar voice behind you and you turn around to meet Matthew’s face who was currently checking out your ass while you leaned against the bar. 

“You’re not in charge of me,” You bark back, sipping on the drink you’d gotten, “What are you doing here?”

“I was supposed to meet Noah out for a drink, but he canceled on me when I walked in,” Matthew says, “Why are you here?”

“I was on a date,” You frown.

You really, really, really, didn’t want to admit to Matthew that you’d had a bad date. You were pretty sure he got laid more than anyone you knew and there was no way he wasn’t going to make fun of you for having a terrible date.

“Was it that bad?” Matthew asks, “Or are your standards just way too high?”

“There’s nothing wrong with having standards for yourself, you should try it sometime,” You defend, “But, he spent the entire date talking about himself.”

You bite your lip, looking at Matthew in front of you. Sometimes, when the light caught him just right and he wasn’t being a total douche you could be reminded why he was such a fuckboy in the first place, he was cute as hell. You hated how attracted you were to him sometimes, especially after the way he had protected you from Alex the other night. He didn’t know why you didn’t want to see him, but he was there regardless.

“You should stay,” You declare, biting your lip and looking at Matthew.

You swore there was a twinkle in his eye, he grabbed himself a drink and hopped onto a barstool while you sat next to him. It started with small talk, you confessing that you were sure Hannah made Noah stay in because she told you he wasn’t spending enough time with her. To which Matthew said that was the exact reason he didn’t do relationships. Then you moved to bickering about how you loved the idea of love and the fact that Matthew turned himself off to it actually made you sad.

“You just need to see it from my perspective,” Matthew tries to explain, “No one sees past all of this NHL bullshit anyways, so, I’m just taking advantage of it. Admit it, you thought I was a dick when before you met me?”

“You are a dick,” You joke, “But yes, I may have passed judgement, that doesn’t mean everyone else thinks that.”

“Trust me, they do,” Matthew takes a sip of his beer, “Girls, fans, even my family sometimes, they just can’t see past the whole rat thing.”

You bite your tongue from telling him that if he stopped playing like a rat, people probably wouldn’t say that. Mainly because he was playing in the NHL and I’m sure your opinion on his play didn’t matter much. But also because whatever he was telling you sounded like something he didn’t talk about very much, it intrigued you. You don’t talk much about it further, a couple of people who were fans coming over and insisting you took shots with them. A few rounds of drinks later, you were drunk and Matthew’s hand had found a permanent place on your lower back.

“Ready to go?” Matthew asks, a chill running up your spine when he whispered in your ear.

Maybe you were lonely. Maybe you’d had too much to drink. Maybe you’d found the one part vulnerable part of Matthew and it made you soft. But something possessed to look him in the eyes and demand he took you home. And after asking you four times if you were sure, you were on your way to Matthew’s apartment with him, his lips on yours.

IV.

You slipped out of Matthew’s apartment after that night long before he woke up. Your walk of shame took you back to your apartment and that was that. You’d only seen Matthew once since, and while you were sitting next to Hannah in the stands at the Saddledome, he’d sent you over a wink and you thanked your lucky stars that Hannah wasn’t paying attention. You knew Matthew wasn’t going to let your moment of weakness be forgotten, you just hoped he didn’t embarrass you. You shook your head at the thought, which had been taking up your brain for most of the week. Your thoughts were broken by a heavy knock on the door, and you opened to reveal the person who’d been taking up most of your thoughts.

“What are you doing here?”  You ask, but you knew the answer was whichever one of his girlfriends, and you meant it to be plural, lived in your building.

“I was on my way to see someone but I thought I’d stop by,” Matthew smirks at you, “I have a favor to cash in.”

“I told you nothing sexual,” You counter back, despite the fact that you’d been under just a few nights ago.

“As much as I want to relive the events of the other night,” Matthew says, looking your body up and down, “I need an actual favor.”

“What?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“I need you to be my date to this event the Flames are doing,” Matthew sighs, as if he really didn’t want to ask.

“I’m sure there’s a line of girls who want to do that,” You say, wondering why Matthew needs you to go.

“I need to bring someone I can trust not to embarass me,” Matthew grumbles, “You’re smart, and you can hold a conversation with a bunch of our front office guys.”

“You want me to go and make you good?” You ask, trying to get exactly what he was asking you to do.

“Yes,” Matthew says, “I need you to make me look good. Can you do it?”

You should have said no. You should have said no. But, you said yes. You knew it was a bad idea, but the bright smile that graced Matthew’s face when you said yes almost made you forget that he was headed up to a booty call when he left your apartment. Something you realized he could only get away with.

--

Matthew wasn’t a bad date. He’d gotten to your apartment on time. Fed you with way too many compliments while his hand was rested on your thigh on the ride to the hotel ballroom the gala was at. Now, his hand had found its place on your back, while you wooed his coach into thinking Matthew was a decent human being. Really you should have paid overtime for how good you were doing. You’d met the entire Flames front office, charming each of them into thinking their player wasn’t sleeping around when he most definitely was.

You finally pull away from the conversation, latching on Hannah once she was finally in reach.

“You’re working like doubletime,” Hannah jokes, “How’d he convince you to do this?”

“He didn’t tell you what happened?” You ask, assuming his big mouth spilled the beans to Noah, at the very least.

“He never said anything,” Noah shrugs.

“I ran into my ex, and he pretended to be my boyfriend so he’d go away,” You admit, “Then he took me home and I told him I owe him one.”

“See? I knew he wasn’t all bad,” Hannah muses. You thought about what Matthew had said that night you slept together, about how people had presumptions about him he could never change so it didn’t matter. You’d actually thought about it frequently since, and it really made your heart ache for him. It bothered him, it had to.

“He’s not all bad,” You admit, outloud, really just so you could convince Hannah not to pass judgement on him without telling her what he’d told you.

“Hey, we can head out if you want?” Matthew asks, coming behind you. You nod, excited to be going home at a decent hour after a long week of work.

You were silent for the entire car ride home, your eyes constantly on Matthew for the entire ride.

“Would you stop staring at me?” Matthew asks, his eyes not leaving the road, but somehow his hand found your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“Do you think you’re a bad person?” You ask, it was something you couldn’t stop thinking about. You didn’t understand Matthew, you didn’t think anyone actually did, but you wanted to figure him out so badly.

“Is this about what I said the other night? It wasn’t that deep Y/N,” Matthew sighs, “I’m not that deep.”

“Do you think that or have you been told that?” You ask, and you knew you were getting somewhere because you could feel his hand tense up.

“Are you always this annoying?” Matthew deflects.

“No,” You sigh, “It’s just, Hannah said something about you not being all bad and it bothered me.”

“A little criticism isn’t going to hurt me,” Matthew says, throwing his car into park so he could walk you to your door, “I’m not really a good guy either.”

You pout, leaning against the elevator. You were close to getting him to just open to you. His walls were tall and they were definitely thick but you might have been slowly chipping away at him.

“Thank you for doing this tonight, it meant a lot to me,” Matthew says, his hand rubbing the back of his neck while you stood in your doorway. A part you wanted to pull him inside by his collar and have your way with him, but you knew once was one thing but twice was going to be another. You bite your lip, debating it for a second, “Thinking about inviting me inside.”

“How did you-?” You start to ask before Matthew immediately cuts you off.

“You’re practically eye-fucking me,” Matthew jokes, “You won’t invite me inside though, because you know if you sleep with me twice you won’t be able to stop.”

You jaw drops, because he was right, “That’s hardly true.”

“I can read you Y/N, you’re like an open book,” Matthew smirks, “For the record, I don’t know if I’d be able to shake you either if we did this again.”

With that sentiment Matthew was headed down the hallway, turning just one more time before he hit the elevator button.

“Matthew?” You call out, “Are you going up or down?”

The question was burning. You just wanted to know why he was frequenting your building. Whoever was up there and why she could get Matthew to keep coming back. You were a little jealous, that he’d rejected you to go see her.

“That’s none of your business,” Matthew muses, giving you a wink and stepping into the elevator.

You were annoyed, and you thought about walking back outside to see if Matthew’s car was still there. That would make you a crazy person so you laid in bed while it ate you alive. That was, until you’d received a text from Matthew of his bedroom, and a sly comment about how you might have recognized his place. While it was smug and irritating, it did make you happy that he was home and he was alone.

plus one

You felt like an idiot. You stood at the bar next to Hannah, listening to her rant and rave about something Noah did while you watched Matthew flirt with some girl by the bar. You didn’t know why you thought maybe he could turn over a new leaf. That maybe you were getting somewhere with him. But, everything went out the window the second your eyes were on him. You decided he was dead to you, he had to be. You excuse yourself from Hannah, giving Matthew one more look before stomping out of the bar. You could hear his shouts behind you while you walked down the street, your apartment too far to walk but if you stopped you’d be forced to speak to him.

“Y/N! Where are you even going?” Matthew finally catches up to you, and you curse your shorter legs for stopping you from outrunning him.

“Away from you,” You say, “You can go back to your little friend, that’s your life Matthew, I get that now.”

“Come back to my place, I need to talk to you,” Matthew pleads, and you knew you were only a block away from his place. You sigh, nodding and following him down the street.

Matthew’s apartment felt different than it did the night you’d slept together. You were tossing off your clothes in a drunken haze and you never realized how empty his place felt. It was cold, and in some serious need a curtain and throw pillow. It was a metaphor for the current state of it’s resident. 

“Okay talk,” You cross your arms, “Explain to me how you do this to every girl, make them think there’s a part of you that’s decent to only be an asshole to them in the end.”

“I’ve never told anyone what I told you,” Matthew confesses, “I thought, maybe, you’d be into me. Then I realized if you were, I was only going to hurt you. You don’t deserve that, so if I push you away, you’ll be happy.”

“Clearly, I’m not happy,” You say, pointing to the frown that was very present on your face, “Listen, I like you, I don’t know why or how you crawled into my life but I want to be with you - the real you. I want that vulnerable man that told me he thought everyone judged him. I want you to prove to me you are that man.”

“I can do that,” Matthew nods, his hands resting on your cheeks. He captures your lips in his for the most tender kiss you’d been given. It was full of love, and full of feeling.

“I want you to prove it,” You say when you finally pull away, your forehead resting on his.

[hystericalweenie]

Just Another Day at the Office Series - New On the Job

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part Two: The Invitation

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n was job searching, looking for a new place to work as an escape to her, then, current job; she’d been denied every pitch she had, yet she worked her ass off with zero recognition. Writing was her passion and her dream job laid in the hands of a magazine company in the city. Will the combination of her sexual frustration and her competitive nature cause her to risk her biggest dream for a blue eyed coworker?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! I imagine Y/n’s roommate, Bree, as Florence Pugh, so feel free to do the same!! If not, Bree’s portrayal is open to the imagination :)

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some sexual! tension! up! in! here! Mention of vomiting as well as alcohol consumption and drug use.

“So, you want to fuck him?”

I gasped at my roommate, playfully hitting her as we sat facing each other on the sofa in our apartment. 

“No! I just-”

“How long has it been?”

My eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

She sighed, squinting her eyes at me.

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

I froze; I thought back to my last relationship, which occurred during college. I had been twenty-two when we broke up, therefore it had been two years since I’d last had sex and it certainly felt like two years. I never wanted to admit how deprived I was of sex and how much I craved it at times. I never found myself relieving myself often either, given the fact that I had a roommate. 

“It’s been two years,” I admitted with a huff, sinking into the couch and pulling my knees up to my chest. 

She scoffed.

“Two years? How the fuck are you alive, Y/n?”

“I don’t know, Bree,” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not comfortable having one night stands like you are.”

“You’re not comfortable doing anything,” she grumbled, kicking my foot with her own. “You need to get over whatever trauma that asshole put you through in the past, and get yourself out there.” 

My heart sank to my stomach as I thought about my ex-boyfriend. The relationship ended with a classic cheating move on his end, which left me with some deep self-image issues. I was over it, completely out of love with him, but I wasn't completely comfortable and happy with myself yet. 

“I know,” I sighed, staring down at the floor of our apartment, avoiding eye contact with her.

“You keep saying ‘I know’, but nothing ever changes,” she complained, using her fingers as air quotations. “That’s it! If you don’t have sex soon, I’m buying you a vibrator.”

My eyes widened causing her to laugh at my reaction. I playfully pushed her off of the sofa, laughing in triumph as she hit the floor. But before I knew it, she grabbed my arm, pulling me down with her. I fell down with a thump, my bum hitting the hardwood floor. I couldn’t help but laugh with her, as we sat on the floor in pain. 

“I’m going to move on,” I started, resuming the previous serious conversation. “I have to.”

“Was he even good at sex?” she asked, moving closer to me.

I shook my head slowly, cheeks turning pink. 

“He never finished me off,” I confessed, bringing my bottom lip in between my teeth to chew nervously.

“He never made you cum?!” she exclaimed, standing up from the floor in shock. 

“No!” I hid my face in my hands.

“Not even when he ate you out?” she queried, making me gasp.

“Bree!” I scolded.

“Well, did he?”

“No!” I ran my fingers through my hair, recalling the horrible memories. “He was so bad at it!”

She grabbed my shoulders and frowned. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You’re missing out on so much.”

My eyebrows knitted together in frustration. 

“What if no one can make me orgasm?” I babbled worriedly.

“Have you ever made yourself cum?” she questioned. 

I nodded. I’d never had trouble making myself orgasm, I just wasn’t able to do it with my ex boyfriend. And every time I’d be close during sex, he’d finish before I could and didn’t bother finishing me off. 

“Do you think that this George you talked about would be good at sex?” she proposed. My cheeks heated up as I heard the words “George” and “sex” in the same sentence. 

“I-I’m not sure,” I admitted honestly. “And I can’t have sex with him anyway, I work with him!”

“I could hook you up with one of my friends,” she offered. 

Last time Bree had offered to set me up with one of her friends, he got too drunk at the bar we went to and we had to call him an Uber home. When he was getting in the car, he also puked on my, then favorite, pair of shoes. Since then, I didn’t let her set me up with anyone else ever again, completely scarred from that experience. 

“I don’t need a repeat of what happened last time,” I grumbled, still able to smell the horrible tequila from his breath that night. I shuddered, forcing myself to think about something else. 

“Then, continue to thirst after your coworker and let some other girl get to him before you do,” she warned, slowly walking away into her bedroom. “A little office romance never hurt anybody! Take Jim and Pam, for an example!” she called before closing her door behind her. 

I allowed myself to absorb her words before shaking my head and heading into the shower.

The next few days had gone by a lot more quickly than I’d expected, despite the long hours of note taking I’d been doing everyday. When Friday rolled around, I decided on wearing a dainty sundress with a cardigan and wedges due to the nice weather that surprised everyone in New York that morning. 

“You look hot,” Bree commented, as she sat criss-cross on the sofa, watching the news.

I blushed, walking over to the closest mirror. “Really?”

“Yeah, your tits and your legs look great,” she gawked, stuffing her mouth with a spoonful of off brand Cocoa Puffs. 

“Do I look unprofessional?” I worried, fixing the dress to cover more of my chest.

“No! You’re the perfect ratio of sexy and professional right now,” she reassured, stuffing her mouth with more cereal. 

“Let’s hope my boss thinks so too,” I muttered, grabbing my purse and exiting the apartment.

Heading into the office, I made my way to my desk like usual, greeting the brunette editor across from me.

“Morning, Dean,” I said, watching as he leant over to look at me, his eyes widening at me. 

I furrowed my eyebrows at his reaction. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” he quickly sipped his coffee, before returning his gaze to his computer. “I’ve just been getting so distracted this morning, classic Friday,” he mumbled.

I nodded, signing into my computer and opening my document and some articles, readying myself for note taking. 

“Hey,” Dean began, leaning over to look at me again. “A few people from the office and I are going to this bar later tonight, and you’re welcome to join if you’d like.” 

I smiled. “That sounds great!”

He returned his classic giddy smile, making me grin even more.

“Great! I’ll email you the details,” he confirmed, turning to face his computer again. 

Selfishly, I immediately wondered if George would be there. I wondered what he’d look like in normal day-to-day clothes, contrasting his regular button up and slacks. During lunch, I texted Bree immediately to notify her of my new plans for that night. My phone buzzed on my desk, making me put my sandwich down in curiosity of her response. Oooo u gonna fuck George? ;) I rolled my eyes and typed back quickly. No!!! I was hoping you could come with me?? I don’t wanna go to this bar by myself. She responded within seconds. YES. I have the perfect plan. I chewed my lip nervously, knowing she was always unpredictable. Oh jeez. Not sure if that’s a good thing or bad thing. The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared. It appeared again, before revealing her response. You’ll find out... ;) 

I found it extremely difficult to focus on my work, nervous for that night and nervous for the unknown “plan” that Bree had up her sleeve. When the end of the day rolled around, I hadn’t gotten as much work done as I’d hoped, but nonetheless I rushed home to get ready. 

I started with a shower, as I waited for Bree to return from work as well. I took time to shave my body before I got out and blowdried my hair, knowing I’d probably end up styling it. I went to my bedroom and pulled as many clothes as I could from my closet, not sure what to wear. As soon as I heard the door open, I called Bree to my room. She ended up picking out a pair of skinny jeans and a cute top that showed just enough cleavage. We got dressed and did our makeup together, blasting our favorite songs and singing along in attempt to calm our nerves my nerves. 

She helped me style my hair in soft waves, while I braided her blond hair. When we were both finally content with how we looked, we stopped the music and got our things together. 

“So, what ‘plan’ did you have in mind, exactly?” I asked, referring to her text message from earlier. 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” She ran out of the living room to her bedroom, making me raise in eyebrow. She jogged back, smirking at me before lifting up a ziplock bag. I grasped the bag, noticing that there was marijuana inside of it. My eyes widened and I immediately started shaking my head. 

“No, no, no! We are not smoking weed before I go see my coworkers!” I exclaimed, staring at my roommate as if she had three heads.

“So what?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “I bet they’re all going to get toasted tonight anyway.”

“Still,” I cautioned. “It’s not a good idea.”

“It’ll take the edge off, Y/n! I guarantee you once you see George, you’re going to be shitting your pants.”

I chewed on the skin of my lip, as I tried to think this through. She technically had a point, knowing that it would calm my nerves. In the past few times I’d used the drug, I simply used it to help me fall asleep, so I’d forgotten what the effects of being high while awake were like. 

“We can arrive later when everyone's already drunk, so no one will even notice,” she added. 

I looked at her, the bag of marijuana, and back to her, chewing the skin of my bottom lip until it bled. I sighed, bringing my y/e/c eyes to meet her hazel ones.

“How do you suppose we smoke it?”

She grinned from ear to ear, raising an eyebrow. 

After fits of coughing to the point of nearly gagging, I looked down at Bree, who was struggling to get her shoes on. Within seconds, everything began to slow down; as my eyes scanned the room, my vision had trouble keeping up with where I was looking and every movement I made felt like slow-motion. 

“Bree,” I wailed, watching as she finally got her shoes tied. “I think we got too high.”

“I think we did too,” she agreed, her bloodshot eyes meeting mine. 

My eyes felt extremely heavy and my throat felt extremely dry. 

“Holy shit,” I muttered, hands grabbing at her face. “Do my eyes look that bad too?”

She giggled, grabbing my face between her palms as well.

“I can’t wait to meet your coworkers.”

Oh shit.

“Fuck, I forgot we were doing that,” I groaned. 

“It’ll be fine, just don’t panic,” she warned. 

We grabbed our purses before heading out the door and thankfully remembering to lock it behind us. We were able to get a taxi to the bar, as we sat in the backseat staring at the moving buildings that passed. 

“Do you think they’ll have food there?” I moaned, feeling an empty-like feeling in my throat. 

“I hope so,” she voiced, putting her hands over her stomach, signifying that she was hungry as well. 

The taxi ride felt like forever before he stopped in front of the bar. We stumbled out of the car and made our way inside. At this point, I’d forgotten again why we were there, being so obliterated from the drug. As we swayed toward the bar, I immediately saw the familiar brunette from work, reminding me why I was there. My eyelids felt even heavier as I walked over to him, tapping on his shoulder. He turned around, eyes brightening at my presence.

“Y/n! You made it!” He pulled me into a hug, causing me to lean into him a bit more than I normally would have.

“Hey! I brought my friend,” I gestured to the blond on my right. “This is my roommate, Bree.”

“I’m Dean!” Dean cheerfully introduced himself to the small blond. Her eyes widened at him.

“You’re fucking British, holy shit,” she muttered, her bloodshot eyes in awe, making him laugh. 

“I want some shots,” I nagged, hitting Bree’s arm with the back of my hand. 

“Let’s do it!”

We went up to the bartender and ordered two vodka shots each. We slurped them down, feeling the burning sensation stinging our throats and stomachs much more than usual. We both settled on vodka sodas to sip on before returning back to my coworkers. I spotted Dean sitting down at the other end of the bar, conversing with someone. Bree split from me after getting into a conversation with one of the bartenders, leaving me alone, feeling as if I was walking in slow-motion. I made my way to Dean, before realizing that it was George he was talking to. I let out a big breath, taking a big gulp of my vodka soda, before walking up to the boys.

“Hey guys,” I greeted, as they both turned to face me, smiling immediately at my presence. 

“Hey! Take a seat,” Dean offered. 

For some odd reason, probably my cross-faded-caused impulsiveness, I decided to take the empty seat next to George instead, and as soon as I looked at him, my eyes couldn’t fucking peel away. He wore a maroon long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans; his biceps and pecs were visible just enough under the fabric that I could feel the heat between my legs begin to pulsate. His hair looked softer than ever and the crinkles beside his eyes were visible as he smiled. I was close enough to him that I could notice the individual freckles sprinkled across his nose. He looked so relaxed in the sexiest way possible. 

“We were just telling a story about how someone in the office a few years ago sent a sext to Lauren’s email by accident,” Dean laughed, before retelling the story for me to hear. 

Dean’s voice faded, as I returned my attention back on George. Being this close to him, I took my time absorbing all of the small features I’d never been able to notice before. All of his visits to Dean’s desk throughout the week, his simple “hello”s when he saw me briefly in the hallway or the cafeteria; they were nothing compared to this moment. I didn’t care that I was becoming more and more obliterated with every sip of alcohol on my empty stomach and my already-high system, I didn’t care that he was my coworker. I just wanted him, and he was right there. 

His facial structure matched that of a statue, looking immaculate in the upmost inhumane ways. The way his eyebrows furrowed when he was concentrated or frustrated, the way his nostrils flared. I was noticing all of these things suddenly, opening my eyes to how truly attractive this man was. I saw his eyes glance to his side, toward me, noticing my stare. But, I didn’t care. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, not having any control over my actions at this point. 

“I’m going to get another beer, George, you want one?”

“I’m good, thanks mate.” George’s tone was different this time. It sounded, almost confused? 

Dean got up from his seat, leaving George and I to ourselves. I grabbed my glass and downed the rest of the vodka soda in the glass, slamming the empty glass down on the bar and turning my body to face him.

“Hi George,” I smiled, resting my chin on the palm of my hand, my elbow resting on the table.

He turned to me, his lips curling into a smile.

“Hi, Y/n.”

I giggled, smiling blissfully at the beautiful man next to me. 

“George,” I began, batting my eyelashes as I looked up at him. “You’re so great.” 

His eyebrows knitted together, an entertained smile evident on his lips as he looked down at me. 

“And why is that?” He took a swig from his beer bottle as I began my slurring.

“Becaaauuuse, you’re a fucking art director, which is, like, crazy,” my bloodshot eyes bore into his bright, piercing blue ones. “And you’re, like, crazy handsome.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me, smirking as my eyelids hung heavy, my eyes barely visible as I smiled. My face was red, as my cheeks had always heated up when I was drunk.

“You think so, love?” 

I nodded, attempting to take a swig out of my glass as the empty cup poured nothingness into my mouth, reminding me that I’d finished off the drink minutes ago. 

“You’re obliterated,” he observed.

“Want to know a secret?” I asked him in a sing-song voice. “I smoked weed before I got here, because my roommate told me it’d make me less anxious,” I whispered, giggling between words.

He raised his eyebrows, his jaw dropping before he started laughing.

“Jesus, Y/n, I didn’t know you were so reckless,” he gasped. 

“Well, I didn’t waaannnnt to do it, but if I hadn’t done it, I’d probably be standing in the corner, too nervous to talk to you,” I admitted. 

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why would you be nervous to talk to me?”

I gave out a big sigh. 

“You’re sooooo hot,” I moaned. “I kind of want to fuck you, but I don’t want to lose my job,” I admitted, licking my vodka-tasting lips before continuing. “And also, I got, like, cheated on big time in my last relationship and it left me with some crazy trust issues and self esteem issues. And, I haven’t had sex since then! It’s been two years, George, can you believe that?!”

There was a moment of silence between us, a moment of unspoken words before his hand was brought up to my cheek, his thumb swiping tears I hadn’t realized were rolling down my warm, scarlet cheeks. 

“I can’t tell if you’re telling the truth, or if you’re just really fucking drunk,” he confessed, his voice almost as quiet as a whisper.

My eyebrows knitted together as my eyes scanned his entire face, absorbing his facial features once again. His eyebrows were furrowed, his nostrils flaring, his plump lips forming a frown. More tears rolled down my face as I leant my cheek into his hand, closing my eyes and savoring the moment. 

But before I knew it, the moment was ruined with a lump in my throat and a grumble of my stomach. Oh, God, no.

“I’m going to throw up,” I croaked, my hand flying to my mouth as I scurried outside. 

As soon as I opened the doors, vomit escaped my mouth. I bent over, hands on me knees, retching on the sidewalk before I felt someone pull my hair out of my face. I turned my head to see none other than George himself, who must have followed me outside. He gave me a sad smile, using his other hand to rub my back as I vomited until I felt like I had nothing else left in my stomach to release. 

“Did you get my purse?” I groaned with a sniffle.

“Yes, love.”

Love. My stomach flipped, making me dry heave.

“T-text Bree and tell h-her to m-meet me outside,” I whimpered, sniffling again and wiping the fallen tears off of my cheeks and chin. 

I heard him unzip my purse and fumble with the the many useless items I had stored in there before finding my phone. There was a moment of silence before he spoke. 

“She texted you an hour ago telling you that she brought a man back to the apartment,” he mumbled, handing me the phone. I stood up straight, wiping my mouth with my arm before grabbing the device and reading the text. 

“Fuck,” I cursed, wiping the tears that had fallen whilst retching. “I don’t know what to do.”

He continued to rub my back. “Do you want me to get you to your flat?”

I shook my head.

“No, she doesn’t want me there,” I grumbled, staring at the dark streets of New York in front of me, everything still looking distorted. 

“You can crash at my place,” he offered. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

I looked at him, teary eyes staring into his concerned ones. 

“Really?” my voice cracked. 

He nodded. “Of course. Let’s get a taxi and get out of here.”

He stroked my hair, as I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his torso and crying into him. 

“I’m sorry for being such a burden,” I croaked, my fingers gripping onto his shirt. 

“Shhh,” he whispered softly, massaging the nape of my scalp with his fingers. “You’re not a burden, Y/n.”

I pulled away from him to look him directly in the eyes.

“Are you going to take advantage of me?”

Something flashed in his eyes, I couldn’t tell if it was anger, or shock, or both. His nostrils flared and his gaze became intense.

“I would never take advantage of you. Or anyone, for that matter.” His eyes didn’t leave mine until I pushed him closer to me, hugging the fabric of his shirt, devouring his scent. 

I drowned myself in the scent of his cologne, noticing how close I was to the skin underneath his shirt. I sighed, some more drunken tears rolling down my face as I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want to go anywhere. All I wanted was to stay there with George, his steady heartbeat like music in my ear, as I rested my head against him. This was more than anything I could have ever wanted with him. 

I woke up to sunlight blinding my eyes, making me bury my face into my pillow and groan. I breathed into the pillow, realizing it smelt unfamiliar, smelling of sandalwood and vanilla. I sat up immediately, my eyes widening as I took in my surroundings. I was in a much bigger bed compared to the full size mattress in my bedroom, the walls were a dark gray, the large windows lining one of the walls making the room appear brighter. I looked under the covers, noticing I was still in the clothes I had gone to the bar in, though my shoes and purse sat on the hardwood floor beside the bed. 

With my heart pounding through my chest, and a confusing massive headache, I got out of the bed and grabbed my shoes and purse. I walked quietly on the floor in my socks, coming face to face to a hallway. I noticed a set of stairs, so I decided to walk down them. The house was quiet, eerily quiet. The stairs led me to a living room, my heart racing as I noticed a sleeping form on the sofa. With a big knitted blanket covering their body, their blond disheveled hair was exposed from the blanket, including their face– is that George? 

Slowly, I walked closer to the sleeping form, confirming it was George, from work. My jaw dropped and I found myself unsure of what to do, though my head was full of thoughts. What the fuck happened last night? What the fuck was I doing at George from work’s apartment? Did George take me to his apartment without my consent? Wouldn’t have Bree noticed that I was gone? Bree. 

I pulled my phone out of my purse, noticing that it was 7 am. I opened my texts with Bree, raising my eyebrows at the messages.

11:04 pm, Bree: Left the bar with this hot ass guy. Bringing him to the apartment.. :/

12:49 am, Me: Goinnh to Georhe’s apaetment. Just threws up on sifewalk lol

1:05 am, Me: At hjis aprtment, hed rich as fuckkjj

1:06 am, Me: Hea sleepong on coucj tryinh not to male me uncomfgortable. Want to habe sex time witj him si bad thougj

1:07 am, Me: Goung to sleepgy times now goonifht bitchhhgh

With the text messages, I was able to conclude that George most likely didn’t assault me, Bree had a guy over which was most likely why I was crashing at George’s, and lastly, I threw up on a sidewalk. Flashbacks to smoking before the bar flooded my head, but I wasn’t able to remember a single thing after leaving the house. I groaned in frustration, bringing my palms to my face.

Suddenly, a soft moan came from the couch, making me jump as I realized I’d woken him up. He slowly fluttered his blond eyelashes open, his bright blue eyes landing on me immediately. His lips curled into a gentle smile, his eyes softening as he took in my form.

“Good morning.” His raspy English voice made my legs weak and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Morning,” I replied, my fingers coming up to my temples in attempt to calm my pounding headache. 

“Do you remember anything from last night?” he asked, sitting up and pulling the blanket off of him.

“Well,” I started, looking down at my phone. “According to my drunken texts, I threw up on a sidewalk, and that’s pretty much all I really know for sure.”

George rubbed his eyes before returning his gaze to me with a frown.

“You got very drunk at the bar last night, which resulted in you throwing up outside,” he confirmed. “Your friend texted you that she’d brought someone to your flat with her, so I offered to take you to mine so you could crash somewhere.”

I cringed, putting my face into my hands at the thought of being drunk in front of George. I mentally cursed myself for getting so obliterated and possibly embarrassing myself in front of the man.

“God, I hope I didn’t say anything stupid,” I moaned, still cringing.

He laughed, making me even more uneasy.

“You didn’t say anything stupid,” he reassured me. 

My shoulders fell out of relief, hoping that maybe my high-self had made my drunk-self a little more normal. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” I mentioned, looking around his apartment. “You didn’t have to sleep on the couch, though.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

I smiled gratefully at the gentleman in front of me. 

“Besides, it would’ve been a little weird waking up next to me with no context,” he pointed out. 

I laughed, imagining the extreme confusion I’d feel waking up next to George, from work. 

“Hey, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Would you want to stay for breakfast? I could make some eggs and French toast, or anything you like, really.”

“I should probably get home and shower. I can’t imagine how I look right now,” I babbled, knowing there was probably makeup all over my face and I most likely smelt of vomit. “But, thank you, George, really.”

He nodded. “Yeah, after getting sick last night, a shower’s probably a good idea,” he agreed. 

I gave him a sheepish smile, clutching my purse before stopping in my tracks. What the hell did you just do? Did you just decline George MacKay for breakfast? After everything he did for you last night? I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in attempt to calm me before doing something I’d possibly regret.

It’s now or never.

“Unless, I could use your shower?”

[yesyesyoumae]

You’re at a party and the only person you know is Stevie

“I think you’re at the wrong party, 85 and a half”

Tagging→ @yesyesyoumae @streetsmartstevie

Location→ a really weird house party somewhere in NewYork City

Date→ August 25, 2018

Summary→ Based on the Meme Monday prompt Mae received:“You’re at a party and the only person you know is Stevie.”

STEVIE

Stevie wasn’t sure why she was at this party to beginwith. Most of her nights were pretty lowkey, just in case she had to run someearly deliveries. It was nice that she didn’t ever have to worry about workingearly shifts at the shop, but closing up was usually exhausting. Taking a sipfrom her cup, Stevie glanced around the party. A courier friend of hers hadinvited her to this, but she couldn’t find him anywhere. Which was fine by her,she was happy to drink their free booze and listen to their crap music.

MAE

Mae had always been the social butterfly. Sure, shestill had introverted qualities, but for the most part she didn’t mind beingaround people. Mae wasn’t sure whose party this was, or why she was here tobegin with, but a coworker from Gymboree had practically begged her to come tothis party and Mae couldn’t say no. However, she couldn’t find her coworkeranywhere and Mae didn’t know anyone at the party. For someone who begged Mae tocome for the sake of company, she surely lacked it. Mae walked around with adrink in hand, hoping to run into at least one familiar face.Mae suddenly caught sight of pink streaks and a grumpy face she knew well. Maesmiled. While Stevie wasn’t exactly her top choice to hang with, it’d have todo. Besides, they were getting somewhere and Mae was hoping to get Stevie tolike her. Because Mae wanted everyone to like her because why shouldn’t they? Maewaved at Stevie and felt her cheeks turn red when Stevie didn’t wave back. Thegirl hasn’t seen her, but that still didn’t make Mae feel any better knowingsome people caught Mae in this embarrassing act. “Should I leave? I should leave.What if this gets even more embarrassing? People won’t stop staring—shit.” Mae thoughtto herself, smiling tightly at the people around her as she stood around,unsure of what to do as she slowly made her way over to Stevie. “Hi!” Maesmiled. “Funny running into you here! I think you’re at the wrong party, 85 anda half.” Mae joked, chuckling at her lame joke.

STEVIE

Stevie was absorbed in her phone, thumbing throughInstagram as she reluctantly bobbed her head to the beat of the music. Okay,maybe the music wasn’t that bad. But, if they played some annoying pop song,she was outta there. Taking a sip from her cup, she continued to check out thevarious tattoos that some of her idols had done. Squinting at one of thepictures, she zoomed in to get a good look at the back piece one of them haddone. Damn, that was cool. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to get a back piecedone just yet, but this was giving her some ideas. When Stevie heard someonesay hello to her, she glanced up, startled. Her expression of surprise quickly turnedinto bored irritation as she realized that it was Mae, cheerful as always.“Hey, Gymboree. Isn’t it a bit past your bedtime?” She asked, takinganother drink from the red cup in her left hand.

MAE

Mae laughed at Stevie’s response and hummed. “Funny.”Mae nodded. “I’m actually 21 and perfectly of age to be here. Mentally I mightbe seven and three quarters.” Mae said, slyly trying to take a seat next toStevie but quickly realizing she was going to fail in being any kinds of coolwhen she nearly forward after some random guy pushed past her. Mae blushed asshe quickly took a seat next to Stevie and chuckled awkwardly. “You didn’t seethat.” Mae mumbled. “So,” she turned to Stevie. “You don’t seem like the partytype, what brings you here? Could’ve sworn it’s bingo night at the retirementhome.” Mae smiled cheekily.

STEVIE

Twenty-one? Stevie choked on her drink– what? Mae wasolder than her? It wasn’t by much, but still. “You’re 21? You’re beingserious, right?” Stevie asked. Maybe she was joking. She just didn’t seemlike she was older. Watching as some dude bumped into Mae, Stevie glared athim, “Watch it, asshole!” She called after him, but he wandered off,probably too gone to hear her. Which was just sad, the party hadn’t even beengoing for that long. “Nah, I saw it.” She said while Mae settled intothe chair beside her. Raising an eyebrow at her question, Stevie shrugged.“I like parties. I like alcohol and parties have that.” She saidbefore continuing, “But, I’m here cuz one of the other bike couriersinvited me. He’s cool and I actually like hanging out with him. Problem is, hedipped the second we got here cuz the girl he’s got a thing for is here.”Stevie said, choosing to ignore the retirement home jab. “What aboutyou?” Stevie asked over the rim of her cup.

MAE

Mae hummed and nodded. “Yup! Wanna see my ID?” Maeasked excitedly as she reached into her jacket for her wallet. “My abuela saysI have the baby face going. When I’m not wearing make-up I look like a 15 yearold, it’s nice.” Mae shrugged. Mae shook her head. “It’s okay. He probablydidn’t see. I’m tiny, so I’m hard to find.” Mae joked with a laugh as sheturned her body and listened to Stevie talking, taking a sip of her drink andhumming. “A coworker of mine from Gymboree begged me to come to keep hercompany but I don’t know if she ever showed up or she didn’t need me at theend. “Mae shrugged. “I know she came here for a guy she’s into—might’ve beenyour guy.” Mae chuckled. “That would be so cute. Kindaromantic, if ya ask me.” Mae shrugged, sitting cross legged on the chair. Maechewed on her lip for a few seconds before humming. “I like your shirt. It’scute.” Mae smiled softly.

STEVIE

Stevie shook her head, “I believe you, I guess.You don’t need to prove it to me.” She said, waving away Mae. Laughing ather comment, Stevie nodded, “I can actually relate to that one, Gymboree.I pretty much have to wear make up all the time or people don’t take meseriously. And hey, if you’re tiny, what the hell am I? You’re not that muchshorter then me.” She said, a bit peeved. She’d always been one of theshortest people around and it kinda sucked sometimes. Mostly because she had todeal with people thinking she was weak and stuff, just because she was a shortgirl. Listening to Mae’s story, Stevie let out a snort. “That’s somethingout of a rom com. That stuff doesn’t happen in real life. And, knowing myfriend, he’s just looking for a hook up.” She said. At Mae’s compliment,Stevie glanced down at her plain black t-shirt. “Uh… thanks. Walmartspecial.” She said, with a wry grin.

MAE

Mae stuck out her tongue playfully and laughed. “Whatabout you? 21 too? Or are you feeling 22?” Mae joked, singing the “22” likeTaylor Swift’s catchy tune. Mae shrugged. “Point is you’re taller and see theworld from a taller place than me.” Mae chuckled. “I like the name a lot, bythe way—Gymboree.” Mae smiled softly. Mae pouted. “Hey, you never know! I liketo think that life can be like a cheesy rom-com if we try hard enough!” Maedefended. “You can find love too even at 85 and a half.” Mae teased with asmirk. Mae blushed at Stevie’s response to her compliment and chuckled.“Walmart has so many deals, huh? I’m more of a Target girl myself.” Maemumbled. Mae felt a little intimidated by Stevie. Stevie was definitelyinfinitely cooler than her and Mae was just…Mae. “It’s still a cute shirt.”Mae said softly.

STEVIE

Stevie shook her head, “Nope, not saying.”She said, not willing to admit that she was younger than her. At least she hadthe advantage of being, what.. half an inch taller? What a privilege. Watchingthe people around them, Stevie snorted as she watched some guy get totallyblown off by a girl. He was shooting way out of his league, what did he expect?Glancing over at Mae, she frowned. “Well, guess I’ve gotta come up with adifferent name. What’s the point of a scathing nickname if you like it.”She said. Stevie leaned back in her chair, folding one leg over the other asshe relaxed. “Nah, I’m good. I’m just,” She paused, sniffing fordramatic effect, “not the same ever since The War.” Stevie laughed.Stevie watched the way Mae mumbled– she was pretty clearly embarrassed. Didthat make Stevie feel bad? No. Okay, well, maybe just a little. “Thanks.Your shirt is pretty cool too.” Stevie said, gesturing to Mae’s top.“It, uh, looks nice on you.”

MAE

Mae pouted. “Why not? Share! I won’t judge.” Maeassured with a smile. Mae shook her head. “No, we’re keeping it! Gymboree istoo great to get rid of.” Mae told her. It matched my identity completely.” Maenodded. “It’s here to stay.” Mae watched Stevie before bursting into a fit ofgiggles at Stevie’s response. Mae laughed way more than she should’ve, but itwas just too funny. “Speaking of the war was Captain Crunch your general orsomething? I always imagine Captain Crunch in this scenario.” Mae said with agrin. Some things Mae said sometimes made absolutely zero sense, but that wasMae in a nutshell: she made no sense. Mae blushed at the compliment, lookingdown at her top. “I like crop tops during the summer.” Mae hummed as she lookedaround and scrunched up her nose at a group of guys being obnoxious androughhousing with one another. This was definitely not Mae’s scene. Mae lookedover at Stevie. “I looked around the house already and they have an old, smallplayground in the backyard. That’s the coolest part of the house, honestly.”Mae told Stevie. “Wanna see?” She asked excitedly.

STEVIE

“Nah, I’m good. You’re just going to have to livewith the mystery.” Stevie replied easily. Mae’s banter, while a bit hardto follow, was funny at the very least. A small smile quirked against her lipsas Mae erupted into laughter. It wasn’t that funny, but at least Mae thought itwas. “Nope, he was in charge of the other division. I served under CaptainKangaroo. War was hell, but at least we were hoppy.” Stevie joked, amusedby the dumb pun. Stevie nodded– she hadn’t been lying that Mae looked good inthe shirt. She looked really good. Looking away, she finished off the last ofher drink and set the cup down on the empty chair to her other side.“They’ve got a playground here? That’s weird.” Stevie said, butshrugged. Standing up, she dusted off her jeans and nodded. “Let me get adrink first, but yeah. I’m down.”

MAE

Mae frowned. “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever beentold in my entire life.” Mae said dramatically, looking down and realizing shewas sitting cross legged while wearing a skirt and blushed as she stretched outher legs. “Whoops.” Mae laughed, shaking her head. Mae continued giggling atStevie’s ongoing joke and hummed. “Hoppy.” Mae giggled again. “You’re funny.”She told Stevie. “What about the division? I hope you had a good one. Who wasyour right hand person?” Mae asked, tilting her head with an amused smile. “Ihope you had Donald Duck in it. He matches you.” She teased. “Plus he wears asailor outfit so he had to be part of the war effort.” Mae pointed out. Maenodded. “It’s a weird house. They got a room of cabbage patch dolls too. Kindacreepy.” Mae scrunched up her nose before grinning when Stevie agreed andnodded. “I need a drink too.” Mae said softly as she stood up and fixed herskirt. Due to her large assets Mae usually had to fix her skirt since it rodeup so easily.

STEVIE

Taking a look down at Mae, Stevie quickly averted hereyes, suddenly very aware of Mae’s legs. She’d been raised not to stare atpeople, particularly when there was that much skin showing. She gesturedtowards the kitchen and continued speaking as they threaded their way throughthe other people who were in various stages of drunkenness. “I served onthe front line with Rin Tin Tin. Great guy, excellent nose.” She noddedseriously as she examined the bottles set out on the counter. Looking up, shenoticed a few girls bickering loudly in the hallway– that was going to endpoorly, she knew it. Nope, she didn’t want to have to make a return trip here.“Why do you say I’m like Donald Duck? I don’t have a speech impediment.”She said while she mulled over whether or not she should be polite or anasshole. Eh, she’d been polite enough. Grabbing the half full bottle of honeywhiskey and some cups, Stevie waited for Mae to fix herself a drink before shetilted her head towards the door to the backyard. “Cabbage patch kids?What the fuck even is this party?” She asked, confused. “This placeis weird as hell. I really wouldn’t be surprised if we were in some weirdalternate dimension or something.”

MAE

Mae followed Stevie, pushing her way through severaldrunken individuals. After a particular push, Mae reached out and clutched ontoStevie’s hand as they reached the kitchen. “Sorry.” Mae blushed. “I was beingcrowded.” Mae chuckled, still not having let go of Stevie’s hand beforereleasing it suddenly and blushing as she rubbed the back of her neck. Maehummed. “I bet he received plenty of medals and treats.” Mae smiled as shechuckled. “He’s grumpy like you. Always ready to argue and fight. It’s whatmade you a great soldier, Stevie.” Mae teased as she fixed herself a quickvodka mixed with lemonade—she worked with what she had. Mae followed Stevie outto the backyard, letting out a sigh of relief when the environment grewsignificantly quieter. Mae took a sip of her drink as she walked over to thesmall swing set and sat down on the tiny slide. “It’s a party I’m never comingback to.” Mae joked with a laugh.

STEVIE

Stevie was startled when Mae grabbed her hand andresisted the urge to pull away from the other girl. She didn’t really likepeople holding onto her, particularly when she didn’t know them. Luckily, Maelet go on her own. “It’s fine.” Stevie said with an indifferentshrug. The party was weird and crazy, so she couldn’t blame Mae for not wantingto get lost. “I’m not always ready to–” Realizing that she was doingjust what Mae was saying, she shut her mouth, fuming a little bit at beingplayed. She wasn’t that argumentative. She just liked playing devil’s advocate topeople’s dumb ideas. “I’m not grumpy.” Stevie amended her statementbefore taking a sip of honey whiskey straight from the bottle. “Yeah, I’mright there with you.” Stevie said as she tentatively tested the swingbefore sitting down. “How the hell did our friends even hear about thisplace?”

MAE

Mae smirked and took a sip of her drink when she sawStevie make her point. Mae shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t go to a lot ofparties, honestly. But this only makes me want to go to them less.” Maechuckled as she took another sip of her drink. “Maybe our friends might besoulmates if they like these kind of weird parties.” Mae smiled. “Guess this isa rom-com after all, huh?” She smirked, tilting her head. Mae stared at Steviefor a few moments, taking in the girl in front of her. Stevie was definitely abeautiful girl, no doubt. Mae’s stare lingered longer than it should’ve and Maeblushed as she looked away and shifted her attention to the loose threadhanging on her skirt. “I saw a little of your tattoo on your shoulder.” Maenodded to Stevie’s shoulder. “What is it?” She asked, her eyes shifting back toStevie.

STEVIE

Stevie was a bit surprised by Mae’s answer– Maeseemed like the type who would like parties. Who knew. “Really? Why’sthat? Don’t like dancing and people getting all rowdy?” She asked, a wrysmile on her face as she took another pull from the bottle, enjoying thepleasant feeling of the alcohol that washed over her. “Nope, they’re notsoul mates and this is not a rom com.” She shook her head. Just thethought of it made her want to laugh. That sorta shit didn’t happen in reallife. And even if it did, it was stuff that happened to other people. At Mae’scomment, Stevie frowned and looked over at her. “It’s a couple of roses.No color, just black and white with shading.”

MAE

Mae shook her head. “No, I love dancing. It’sthe only reason I’ll even agree to go to a party.” Mae smiled. “But it’s onlyfun when I’m with people I know. Plus, I can think of so many other things todo than partying.” Mae nodded. Mae shrugged. “You never know. Sometimes the mostunexpected people wind up being your soulmates.” Mae told her. Mae wasdefinitely a hopeless romantic and firmly believed that somewhere out there wasthe love of her life just waiting for her to come and shake up her world. Maeleaned closer. “Can I see?” Mae asked with a soft smile.

STEVIE

Stevie nodded. That much made sense. Mae wasdefinitely the upbeat type so go figure that she enjoyed dancing. “Fairenough. What other things are better options than going to a party?”Stevie asked. She could already come up with a few ideas on her own; sitting athome playing video games, teasing the cat, going to a dive bar or a pool hall,exploring the city at night. Fun stuff like that. “Gross. You actuallybelieve in that kinda soulmate stuff?” She said, crinkling her nose at thethought of it. Soulmates were for people too interested in the idea of being inlove. Blinking in surprise at Mae’s request, Stevie shrugged. Because of it’ssize, there was no real easy way to tug down the collar of her shirt, so shesettled for pulling her t-shirt over her head. Twisting a bit so Mae could seeit, Stevie spoke up, “It took about four and a half hours for my friend todo.”

MAE

Mae hummed as she took a sip of her drink and thoughtfor a few moments. “Writing a song or two, playing with Duck, going outdancing, used bookstores, and the beach is definitely the best one. I love thebeach.” Mae smiled as she chuckled when Stevie scrunched up her nose. “Well yougotta believe in something, and I rather believe in something beautiful.” Maeshrugged. “I take it you’re not a believer of that kinda stuff?” Mae asked.Mae’s eyes widened when Stevie took off her t shirt and felt her cheeks heatup. “O-oh. Cool.” Mae laughed awkwardly, trying hard not to stare as much asshe wanted to. Mae cleared her throat as she stood up to get a better look atit. “I like it.” Mae said softly. Mae stayed quiet for a few seconds. “I likeroses.” Mae hummed. “Can I… touch it?” Mae asked, blushing at the request.Mae didn’t mean anything by it, but she was just curious about what it felt totouch a tattoo.

STEVIE

“Bookstores, huh? Wouldn’t have pegged you as abookworm.” Stevie said. She didn’t particularly like books much herself.After struggling through high school, she only associated reading with schooland that was something she just didn’t want to subject herself to.“Nope.” She replied, popping the P for emphasis. Believing in stufflike that was dangerous; it only set you up for disappointment in the future.Nodding at Mae’s comment, Stevie spoke up, “Yeah. I like flowers. Naturein general, but flowers are pretty.” She said. Glancing back at Mae,Stevie let out a long suffering sigh. “Sure, why not.”

MAE

“I’m all sorts of intellectual.” Mae winked beforegiggling. “My abuela was always short on money so she took me to the library asa way to make me feel like I was getting something so it just kinda stuck.” Maeshrugged. Mae pouted. “I’ll believe for you.” Mae told her. “I have enoughfaith for the both of us.” Mae smiled. Mae nodded. “Flowers are gorgeous.” Maeagreed. “I don’t know if I’m the nature type, though. I grew up in New York mywhole life. Not a lot of room for experiencing nature.” Mae chuckled. Maechewed on her lip. “Okay, grumpy.” Mae teased before tracing the outer part ofthe tattoo with her finger. “It’s beautiful. I’ve always wanted to get atattoo.” Mae mumbled. “Something pretty like this.”

STEVIE

“Uh huh. I don’t doubt that.” Listening toMae talk about her grandma taking her to the library, Stevie could relate.Money had always been short in the Evans household, so they had to make theirown entertainment. But, instead of books, Stevie had always preferred runningaround outside, getting into trouble. Just doing something.“Whatever.” Stevie said dismissively. She didn’t really need Mae’sbelief and neither did the world. Life wasn’t some kind of fairytale andbelieving that it was wouldn’t change anything. “Makes sense. I’m fromNashville and there was a lot of country around us.” She said. Squirmingat Mae’s touch, Stevie shifted away and pulled her shirt back on. “Ohyeah? What would you want to get?” She asked, always interested in hearingwhat people wanted to get

MAE

Mae nodded. “I don’t read as much as I use to. I reada bunch of picture books, though.” Mae chuckled. “I’m practically an expert.”Mae flipped her hair before laughing. Mae looked over at Stevie. “Who hurtyou?” Mae asked with a teasing smile. “Don’t be such a downer.” Mae moved herhand away and blushed when Stevie shifted away. Mae settled back down on theslide and thought for a seconds. “Okay, well, I’m Cuban. I grew up with myCuban grandmother and so that’s all I know. There’s a flower in Cuba that wecall ‘mariposa.’ It means butterfly. It’s the national flower and I’d get it asan homage to my grandma and where I come from. I’d get it somewhere like myribs if I was brave.” Mae shared with a soft smile.

STEVIE

“Of course you do.” Stevie laughed, shakingher head. Kids. Gross. Mae must be some kind of saint or a psycho if she couldactually handle being around sticky little toddlers all the time. Stevie barelyliked teenagers and she’d only recently grown out of being one. “I’m not adowner. I’m a realist.” She said as she cuffed the sleeves of her t-shirtso they lay tight against her biceps. She needed to do more arm workouts if shewanted to get that sleeve any time soon… Nodding, Stevie replied, “Iknow what a mariposa is. A dude at the shop I work out, he draws those a lot.But uh… hope you know what you’re getting into. If you’re a tattoo virgin,the ribs is a ballsy place to get tattooed for the first time.” She said,grimacing a bit. She’d seen plenty of people bitch out because of the pain.

MAE

Mae nodded. “And absolutely no one can compete with myrendition of ‘twinkle twinkle little star.’” Mae giggled. “Oh and don’t eventry to attempt to sing ‘itsy bitsy spider,’ I have the lyrics and handchoreography down to a ‘T’.” Mae shared with a proud smile. Mae loved beingaround kids. They were easier to be around than people her age. All they wantedwere simple things in life. As you got older, things weren’t as simple anymoreand adults demanded much out of each other. Mae took a sip of her drink. “Ithink love is a realistic concept. Even living some cheesy rom-com scenes inreal life. You just have to find the right person.” Mae argued. Mae flinched atthe thought of getting the tattoo on her ribs. “I know. That’s why I said if Iwas brave.” Mae chuckled. “I would also get a cute little tattoo on my anklelike a heart or a cute daisy. Maybe an ocean wave. I really do love the beachand there’s a love quote I really like that talks about the ocean.” Mae musedwith a soft smile. “I can see you’re so judging me.”Mae took a sip of her drink.

STEVIE

Stevie raised her hands, not wanting to provoke Maeinto singing anything. “Nope, I’ll trust you on that one. Don’t need toprove it to me.” She said before taking another drink from the bottle.Capping it before she drank more than she should, she set it down on the groundnext to her. Stevie knew her limits and if she wanted to be good to bike home,she needed to cut herself off now. “Sure, love might be a realisticconcept. But, the rom com kind of love isn’t real. It’s just some kind of…easily digestible version of love. Like, what happens to those folks after thebutterflies are gone?” She replied. At Mae’s other ideas for a tattoo,Stevie shook her head. “Hold on now, I’m not judging you. I don’t judgepeople for what they get. Usually. But, look,” Pushing her hair up andaway from her ear, she showed Mae the olive branch behind her ear, “Behindthe ear tattoos are about as basic as they come, so I’m not judging you foryour heart tattoo.” She let her hair fall back down, running her fingersthrough the tangled locks a few times. “Besides, it’s not as bad as allthe dudes who get barbed wire around their biceps.”

MAE

Mae laughed. “Were your kindergarten days not as greatas they could’ve been?” Mae teased with a pout. Mae finished her drink andlistened to Stevie’s argument. “If it’s real love, the butterflies won’t everstop. I don’t know, I think people get into a certain part of theirrelationship where they get too comfortable and don’t even try to maintain thesparks. So rom-com love is definitely possible if you make an effort to giveyour partner the feeling like they’re in one.” Mae retorted. Mae turned to lookat the tattoo and smiled. “Awww it’s cute!” Mae exclaimed. “I like it.” Maehummed before doing a dramatic sigh. “Wow guess I’ll have to hide my barbedwire tattoo. Have you seen these bad boys?” Mae took off her jacket and flexedher arms. “I think they need two barbed wires.Make it a metaphor. My arms are high security prisons. They’re hard to escape.”Mae threw a punch into the air before laughing.

STEVIE

“No, they were fine, I think. I don’t reallyremember kindergarten. Does anyone?” She asked, hoping that most peopledidn’t have those memories. It’d be just like her to be one of the dumb littlekids who didn’t remember when they were five. Seeing that Mae had finished herdrink, Stevie leaned back and held up the bottle of honey whiskey, “Youwant any of this?” She shook the bottle, letting what little was leftsplash around the sides of the glass. “Sure, whatever you say.”Stevie said, not wanting to argue with Mae on this. It didn’t really matter,Stevie was happy with being single. It was nice and neat that way, not havingto worry about what someone else wanted. “Thanks.” She said beforequirking an eyebrow at Mae’s antics. Unimpressed, she tilted her head.“Barbed wire tattoos are already a metaphor. Like, they’re a pretty strongsymbol for Jesus. You’re not some born again Christian, are you?”

MAE

Mae shrugged. “My abuela said I cried my first day.”Mae chuckled. “Did you? Or were you always a toughie?” Mae teased. Mae lookedat the bottle for a few seconds. She hadn’t had much to drink and she wasplanning on taking an Uber back home. Mae reached out and took the bottle.“Thanks.” Mae said as she opened it and took a sip of it. “There’s nothing likethe satisfaction of legally consuming a drink. I know I won’t get in trouble.Which is good.” Mae chuckled. “Unless I streak—which I won’t. I’m not drunkenough.” She laughed. Mae hummed. “Agree ti disagree?” Mae looked at Stevie.“Or tired of this debate? Because…I was right?” Mae smirked. Mae giggled atStevie’s unimpressed look. Inside, she was feeling a little upset that shecouldn’t seem to get Stevie to like her, but she’d keep trying anyway. “I wasactually raised Catholic. And my metaphor is way better. I don’t think Jesusdigs the edginess of the tattoo.” Mae chuckled.

STEVIE

Stevie shifted on the swing. “I dunno. My folksjust dropped me off, no real fanfare around it. Actually, Sam might have walkedme to school. Like I said, I don’t remember much as a little kid.” Shereplied. Nodding as Mae talked about legal drinking, Stevie just kept quiet.“None of the above. You obviously have your thoughts, I have mine, andneither of us are changing our minds.” Stevie looked at Mae and shook herhead, “Fair enough, I guess. Don’t trust me, the one training to be atattoo artist.”

MAE

Mae hummed. “I’m an only child, so I only had myabuela.” Mae shrugged. Mae shrugged. “Fair enough I guess.” Mae mumbled beforechuckling. “I think you’ll make a great tattoo artist.” Mae said. “Maybe youcan do my first tattoo.” Mae offered. “I don’t know when I’ll do it, but whenthat time comes, you can put those skills to work.” Mae chuckled as she drank alittle more from the bottle. “I hope I don’t have a hangover tomorrow. Thelittle munchkins won’t be very kind to it.” Mae laughed as she leaned back alittle.

STEVIE

“Gotcha.” A part of Stevie was curious as towhy Mae didn’t mention a mom or a dad, but she figured it was best not to pry.She didn’t like It when people poked their noses into her family life and, whenboth of her sisters were practically living in the same neighborhood… it washard to avoid. Leaning back in the swing. Stevie looked up at the hazy New Yorknight sky. She couldn’t see a single star, just some planes. Gross. At Mae’swords about tattoo, Stevie slipped out of the swing, landing hard on her ass.“No, no, no, no. I’ve had enough people ask me to do that. I’m nottattooing you. Particularly not if it’s your first one.” Stevie said asshe scrambled back to her feet. Dusting grass from her pants, Stevie glancedover at her. “Jesus, why would you go party if you knew that you wereworking with gremlins in the morning? That sounds awful.” She said, notrealizing how rude her tone was.

MAE

Mae looked at Stevie and raised an eyebrow before nodding,putting on a soft smile despite the comment hurting her feelings a little.“You’re right. I should probably…go. Now. Yeah.” Mae nodded as she stood up,dusting off her skirt and clearing her throat. Mae didn’t know if her presenceor not was wanted by Stevie, but she didn’t want to stick around to annoy her.She’d find a way to get Stevie to like her—somehow. “Cool seeing youand…uh…cool party.” Mae nodded.

STEVIE

Stevie watched as Mae stood up. Rubbing the back ofher neck, she shook her head. Ah shit. She’d fucked things up, hadn’t she? Footmeet mouth, that was something that she really needed to get into her head. “Yeah…see you around sometime?” She asked. Stevie wasn’t sure why it botheredher to see Mae go like this, but it did. Stevie didn’t want her to feel likeshe didn’t like her or anything.

MAE

Mae smiled and nodded. “Yeah, maybe I’ll see youaround.” Mae said softly before getting on her phone and ordering an Uber. “I’mgonna—yeah.” Mae gestured to her leaving before walking away to the front ofthe house while contemplating what it was about her that made her so unlikeableto Stevie and what Mae could do to fix that problem.