#we were at a pre college thing the month before and both happened to be there

[lucky-clover-gazette]

bruh i will be in disneyworld in a week. like the florida one.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

Mine - JJ Maybank One Shot

+18 Minor DNI Fluff & Angst

JJ x KookExGirlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warnings: language, name calling, child birth and it’s side effects.

📖 JJ’s ex is pregnant and the baby is his 💕

5k

Reader’s POV:

JJ has come by every day since the breakup, never at the same time. His beautiful blue eyes still find a way to catch mine. I iced him out completely, ghosting him only a few weeks after we made it official.

We had been pining after each other for years, rushing into everything when we finally got what we both wanted. We never once thought about playing it safe, fucking raw in the back of his Bronco that night, and every chance we got after that. We couldn’t get enough of each other… Every time we were alone, our hands were on each other, clothes thrown across the room, tangled up in sheets.

“Fuck that,” was the last thing I heard him mumble to John B before he and his friends disappeared for weeks. They talked about hooking up, girlfriends, and how the last thing they want to deal with is a pregnant one after John B. and Sarah had a scare of their own. ‘We’re too young. They’re too expensive. I’m not ready for that shit. Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? There’s no way in hell’.

And here I stand.

Nine months and five days along, hiding it from him because, at this point, I’d instead go at it alone. I didn’t know where he went, and when he came back, something had happened. I could tell something was going on with him and Kiara. The longer I was away, the closer they got. He seemed happier with her. I can do this myself… even though I don’t want that. Not at all.

He still calls me from time to time. Usually late at night when I’m already asleep. JJ doesn’t always leave a message, but when he does, it’s a jumbled mess of drunken words.

I’ve shut out all my friends. The only people that know are my parents and the little old lady next door. They think it’s some random tourists. My parents kicked me out on my ass after I decided to keep the baby. 'You think you’re so grown? You think you can handle this pinching pennies? What kind of life is that?’ They gave me up that day. 'If you want to act like trash, you can live like trash.’

But who’s the actual trash here?

As much as I wanted to return to my simple life, I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t bring myself to get the abortion they were more than willing to pay for. I went from a Kook to a Pogue in a matter of seconds. And, at my twenty-week appointment, when I saw that little boy in my tummy, I knew I made the right choice.

I snagged an office job pretty fast: a beautiful spot, a real-estate agency close to the beach. The clientele is great, Pogues with just enough money to hire someone to sell their little shacks instead of doing it themselves. Work, community college, sleep, rinse, and repeat. I’ve saved enough to buy a crib and some basics… Stopping by the thrift store just off Figure 8 to nab some Kook’s hand-me-downs. I want to give this little boy the life he deserves… I want to prove my parents wrong.

I’m sure they’ll have a change of heart after the baby is born, rushing to plunge that silver spoon straight into his mouth and 'save him from all this.’ But, come to find out, this life saved me. An existence under their thumb is not where I wanted to be. I don’t want to raise a Kook. I want to raise a Pogue. I just wish I knew what I was doing. I really wish I had Jayj.

You look out the large front window, watching as he passes by, surfboard looped under his arm as he steps toward beach access. His eyes drift your way, turning ahead before he disappears again. Shit. You look down at your stomach, watching the baby turn, your round tummy rolling with the baby’s movements.

Like clockwork, you’re hit with a braxton hicks contraction. Your belly squeezes taunt, breathing strained, causing you to draw little breaths, blowing them slow. You look up at the wall, watching the clock strike 5. Yes. Grabbing the armrest, you struggle to stand, pressing yourself up. You waddle toward the door, turning the open sign to close before nabbing your keys.

The warm summer air kisses your skin as you pass through the door; the sunset paints the sky in the west. Fuck. Your stomach contracts again, a contraction so intense you have to grab the brick wall for support, eyes screwing shut as you breathe through it again. “Hey…” Your heart sinks, eyes flashing open as you meet JJ’s wide gaze.

“Hi,” you force the word through tight lips, still clutching the wall.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently. JJ’s stare falls down your body, landing on your bump, your hand cradling the bottom out of sheer practice.

“M'fine,” you whimper as you turn quickly, clipping toward your shitty little car before he can ask anymore, tears brimming in your eyes.

JJ’s POV:

I watch her car slow-roll over the speed bump, steering through the parking lot into her tiny carport. My muscles are tense; emotion pooled in my eyes as I watch her battle to get out of her car. I know she’s pregnant. I didn’t ask. It was the first thing I wanted to blurt out. Even though my dad’s a grade-A asshole, he still taught me that shit ain’t polite. I just didn’t think she would disappear that fast. She grabs the handrail, heading up the steps, pulling open the apartment door before falling out of sight.

Everything was fine until I left… And, when I came back, she was gone. She fuckin’ vanished, dropping me for no one, from what I’ve seen, at least. She’s shut herself in completely, never coming out.

I couldn’t help but check on her every chance I got. Make sure she’s okay. I should have known something was off. Her family’s loaded. There’s no reason that Kook Princess should be hanging out around here. She should be off at some fancy-ass college, living the dream. The second I saw her in that office, red flags should have been waving left and right, but they didn’t.

She didn’t want to talk. I could tell… The look in her eye was enough to let me know to stay the hell away. That, paired with the fact that she never called me back. Most of the time I wasted… I can’t lie. It was probably for the best. But she saw my number and chose to ignore it; decided to leave it unanswered. Somethin’s goin’ on… Maybe she’s gotta new boyfriend. There’s no reason why she’d be here otherwise… Unless there’s more to the story. 

Maybe all this is 'cause I told her I loved her. I don’t know, but that’s the last thing I said before I left. And I still feel it. I still love that woman. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe she was ready, and I left, and she started to second guess everything. I mean, how could she not? I vanished, then she did… Can I really fault her for doing the same exact shit?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

My body jumps, chills running down my spine as headlights flood my rearview mirror. Goddamnit. I’ve gotta make a decision, in or out; am I gonna do this or not? I stomp on the gas, speeding ahead, barreling away as my tears break free.

She was a good girl before she met me. I wasn’t a virgin, but she was. She gave that to me. I don’t think she was sleeping around with anyone else.

That baby’s mine. I know it.

Reader’s POV:

DING.

You drag your body over to the microwave, snagging your TV dinner. The apartment is quiet, just the lull of the evening news playing in the background. Plopping down on the weathered couch, you snag the remote, flicking through the channels aimlessly until you find your comfort show, snuggling in a little more as you swirl your spaghetti on your fork.  

Grabbing the remote, you turn it a little louder, trying your best to drown out the thoughts raging in your head. The interaction with Jayj, the horror in his eyes, the way you left, fleeing the scene altogether. I miss him. Every part of him. God, he is so fucking beautiful. Those goddamn eyes, and that perfect face, his voice. I - DRIP. DRIP.

You look between your thighs, a wet spot gathering on your sweatpants, dribbling onto the floor below. You pinch the bridge of your nose, expiring a frustrated breath. As if this day wasn’t mortifying enough, let me add pisses your pants to the list… You close your eyes softly as a tinge of nausea sets in as well.

Maybe if I take a shower, I’ll feel better… You rise to your feet, liquid continuing to trickle its way down your leg.

Shit…

Is this it? It wouldn’t be far-fetched. I’m past my due date. Did my water just break? You feel your bottom lip wobble, muscles stiffening as you face reality that that might be the case.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Fuck. You look down at your soaked pants. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

“One sec, Dot,” you call out for your neighbor.

“Umm… Hey. I-It’s JJ,” you hear his muffled voice behind the closed door. Everything stops; your body, frozen as you watch him through the little kitchen window, just a crack of sight through your curtain. No. You shuffle toward the bathroom, clutching your stomach, a new sensation of emptiness you hadn’t felt before.

“Ow… Ow… Oh my god,” you gasp, holding the bottom of your stomach. “It’s fucking happening… No. Fuck!” You scream, another contraction rocking you. The soft knocking turns into a loud bang. “Let me in, y/n. P-Please. Are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You grip the doorframe tightly, trying to center yourself, to no avail. The room starts to spin around you, stomach churning, mouth salivating. Am I going to throw up? Why am I gonna throw up? You trip slightly on the rug, falling to your knees, crawling the rest of the way toward the toilet.

“Y/n?” JJ yells as he frantically fiddles with the doorknob, knocking at the glass trying to open that as well.

“Ja-” You go to answer, letting out a cough instead, emptying your stomach into the bowl. Then you hear it: metal on metal as the doorknob twists.

“Y/n?” JJ stutters, his boots bounding toward the bathroom. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Yeah,” you cry as you see a look of sheer panic in his eyes. “Why are you here?” You whisper.

“I-I… Umm… I don’t know?” He spurts as he moves a little closer. “Do you want me to c-call your parents?”

“No!” You shout. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want them here,” you yell. JJ’s eyes open wider.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, Jayj. Don’t apologize.”

He kneels close, rubbing your back softly. “Did you need me to clean up out there for you? Do you want me to get you a new pair of pants? Or maybe a glass of water? A rag? You want a rag? Yeah?” You throw up in the toilet again, causing JJ to release a sympathetic gag.

“Jayj… you can’t do that,” you groan.

“I’m sorry. M'sorry, y/n,” he sighs, trying to compose himself. “Here.” He grabs a scrunchie off the counter, gathering your hair in a ponytail.

“Thank you.” You grip the toilet tightly, trying your best to calm down, but it’s simply momentary. “Fuck,” you howl, your pain wrapping around your back to your front.

“Y/n, s-shit,” JJ whimpers, dropping his head in his hand. His own personal panic setting in. “Are you - fuck,” JJ tries to speak, but the words aren’t easy. “Are you pregnant?”

“Is that not clear, Jayj,” you cry. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“I have to go to the bathroom, JJ!” You scream, voice bouncing off the walls as you feel pressure building between your thighs.

“O-Okay. Of course. Do you need help standing?”

“Will you get me a bucket first?” JJ nods at you rapidly. You let out a loud cry, whole body pain, indescribable hurt. “Fuck!” You scream.

“Should I call 9-1-1?”

“The bucket, JJ. Please!”

“Okay. Alright. Sorry. S-Sorry!” he panics, running out of the bathroom. You hear him bang around in the kitchen, talking himself into a frenzy.

“Grab anything, JJ! Please!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Jesus Christ. It’s fucking hot in here.” You rip off your shirt, tossing it to the side.

“This! Okay… This will work,” he cheers breathlessly, running back into the bathroom with a pot. You quickly tug your pants down, taking a seat on the toilet. You draw the pot under your chin, breathing deeply.

“Fuck… this feels so much better.” You moan, feeling slight relief in this new position. A new heat rises in your cheeks, humiliation brewing as you feel the weight of JJ’s gaze on you. The last night he saw me, I was in a paisley sundress, his arms around me, lips locked on mine. I felt beautiful. JJ always made me feel that way. He told me he loved me. That girl. Not this one. I can’t believe he’s seeing me this way: tummy round, naked, sweaty, sick, and in pain. All I can do is cry.

JJ walks over, kneeling before you as his beautiful blue eyes search for yours. “Y/n, we gotta get you to the hospital. Okay?” His voice is gentle and calm. JJ tucks some sweaty strands of hair behind your ear as you match his watch. You can see his eyes getting glassy; he’s also completely and utterly overwhelmed, still trying to stay calm for you.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mewl.

“Hey, s'okay. You’re gonna be alright. We just gotta go, baby.”

Baby. The guilt hits you next, hard and fast. How would I feel if roles were reserved? How would I feel if this secret was kept from me?

“JJ… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

JJ swallows thickly; the tears pooled in his beautiful blue eyes break free as he looks back at you. “The baby’s mine?” He fights the words past his lips.“This is amazing… I just - I. Fuck. It’s okay, honey. But, why - Why wouldn’t you just tell me, y/n?" He whispers, his voice hoarse and broken with emotion.

"I didn’t want to ruin your life, Jayj. We had just started dating-”

“Ruin my life? Why would this ruin my life?” He cuts you off in disbelief. Your muscles tighten, a sharp pain radiating as you try to remain in the moment with him. You can see his face change with yours, seeing the pain in your eyes. “Let’s go. Let’s get you to the hospital,” he whispers as he rests one hand on your cheek, the other set lightly on your tummy.

“I can’t move, J,” you whimper.

“I can carry you. Okay? The hospital is only five minutes away. I can get you there in three. Fanciest driver in The Cut. You know that. Yeah? We’ll be there in a heartbeat. Everything’ll be fine. We’re okay. Okay?” He sniffles, lifting the neck of his white tee shirt to wipe the emotion out of his eyes. “Let me get you some clothes, sweetheart.” You nod in reply, gripping the counter tightly as you battle through the pain of another contraction.

JJ races back into the bathroom as fast as he came out, handling you carefully as he tugs on your oversized t-shirt and shorts. He guides you to your feet, helping you into your Converse sneakers, tying them tight before lifting you into his arms. You clutch onto him as you ride out another contraction, burying yourself in the crook of his neck. Your tears wet his shirt as he walks with you toward the door, stepping out into the night. “You’re okay, baby. You’re alright," he soothes, kissing you gently on the temple.

JJ tugs open the door of the Bronco, setting you inside before sprinting around the front. JJ flicks the keys, making the engine roar. He throws it in reverse, peeling out of the parking lot before skirting onto the main street, making you clutch the grab rails for support. "Shit. Sorry, princess,” JJ winces as he sees the fright in your eyes. He thrusts his hand into his pocket, thumbing through his cell phone as he dodges through traffic.

You can see the tears still sparkling in his stare; JJ’s jaw coiled tight as he listens to the ringing on the other end of the line. He’s terrified, just like you, his phone trembling in his hand. “Hi. Uhh… Shit. My girlfriend and I are on our way in. She - she’s…”

“In labor,” you whisper, helping him along.

“She’s in labor. We’re about two minutes away. Uh… Umm, let me ask,” he breathes, eyes snapping your way. “How far apart are they? Have you been timing them?”

“Timing what?” You ask sheepishly, watching as JJ’s eyes lighten on yours.

“Your contractions, baby.”

“I don’t know,” you whimper, cheeks hot with shame again, your ignorance on display. He probably thinks I’m an idiot. I should know this. Why don’t I know this?“

"S'okay," he whispers. JJ looks down at the dash, eyeing the little clock.

"Fuck, Jayj,” you sob, the pressure of another contraction setting in.

“Shit. Sorry - sorry, I’m here. Umm… Like four minutes tops? Yeah. Mhmm… She’s close,” he whispers, making your heart skip a beat. “Yeah. Yeah - The front. We’ll meet you out there.” You try your best to keep your eyes open, vision blurry as you see the hospital sign glowing like a beacon in the night. JJ stuffs his phone back in his pocket, reaching for your hand instantly, weaving his finger in yours before drawing them up to his lips. He kisses your hand, lingering on your skin, hiding his quivering lips.

“Motherfucker!” You scream, driving your heels into the floor of the SUV; yet another contraction barrelling through your body as you pull up to the curb. JJ grits his teeth as you squeeze his hand tight, surely drawing blood.

JJ’s POV:

“Take a deep breath for me, y/n,” the nurse aids. Y/n’s eyes slam shut, her beautiful face scrunching in discomfort as the nurse checks her further. “Okay… 10 centimeters,” she says calmly. “I see some hair.” Y/n’s eyes remain shut in fear as she nods her head frantically. Her little hand squeezes mine again; the only relief she can get this far along. I can’t believe she almost did this alone - all by herself. What if she couldn’t have made it to the phone? 

Why can’t she call her parents? Why is she alone in the first place? Why wouldn’t she just tell me? I feel my thoughts start to race with the beating of my heart. “Y/n,” I whisper. Her gaze matches mine, sending me into a spiral as I see the speckles of red against the whites of her eyes, popped blood vessels, and tears pooled in the corners. Heat rises behind my eyes again as I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re doing so good, y/n.”

“M'not,” she hiccups, hand clutching her little bucket as she waits for her tummy to turn again. “I let you down, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared. M'not fucking ready-”

“Y-You’re ready,” I stammer; the stutter in my voice deceives me, but I mean every word. “You didn’t let me down. I went into your room, y/n. I saw the crib, all the clothes you have hung in your closet, the baby book with all the Post-it notes sticking out. You’re ready. 'Course you’re scared…” My voice fades to a hush as she tucks herself in my neck. I’m instantly struck with Deja Vu, thrown back into the night that changed everything. The last night she was mine… I clear my throat, beating my lashes shut.

“The baby’s a boy, Jayj,” she whispers gently.

“Yeah?” I ask happily as I choke back tears, feeling her nod against my shoulder.

“M'sorry, Jayj. I-” Y/n fleeting words turn into a wail, nails digging into my forearm.

“Please don’t apologize, y/n,” I soothe, kissing her head. “You’re so strong, baby girl,” I whisper in her ear, feeling her muscles contract.

“We’re going to need you to start pushing, y/n.”

“I can’t,” she whimpers.

“You can, baby. You can.”

“You know how you feel like you need to go to the bathroom? Push like that. Okay?” Y/n shakes her head no.

“You’ve got to, baby. A'ight? You’re amazing, y/n,” I breathe, moving closer. She presses her forehead against mine, gritting her teeth. “You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe.” Y/n presses her quivering lips against mine, taking my breath away. Those lips… Holy shit. My hand wraps around the back of her neck, drawing her even closer. “I missed you," I whisper shakily. 

"I missed you too, JJ,” she echoes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj,” she whimpers.

“M'not goin’ anywhere. M'not leavin’ you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sobs.

“Y/n?” The nurse calls. “What’s your pain level when you have a contraction?”

“10,” she soughs.

“You’re going to have a contraction in a few seconds. We’re going to need you to push hard. When you feel it coming on, take some deep breaths. When you hit 10, push. Okay? JJ, we will need you to count to ten for her. Y/n, we want you to push all 10 seconds.” I can see the shift in her face; her pain, increasing. Her grip on my hand gets tighter. Y/n’s eyes shift to mine, giving me a nod.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

“F-Fuck!” She screams, her eyes slam shut as her body trembles in pain. “S'not working,” she snivels.

“It’s working. You’re doing a great job. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor assures. “This next one might be it, but you’ll have to push really hard.”

“Did you hear that, baby?” I breathe, my lips resting on her forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“You’re doing a great job, Y/n,” the nurse whispers. Y/n’s eyes flutter shut, wincing in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t believe a word of it.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…”

“Ow… Ow… No. It burns,” she wails. The words catch my throat as I push back tears.

“We have him. Keep pushing.”

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

She lets out a guttural scream; the doctor catches a baby, drawing him out. “Oh my god,” I breathe.

“Oh… H-Holy shit,” she whimpers. “Is the baby okay? Is he breathing?” I hear the baby’s high-pitched cry. A wave of relief crashes over me. Y/n dissolves in my arms as we look out for our little boy. 

This was the last thing I expected, the furthest thing from my mind when I woke up this morning. But, now, here I am. Here he is. Here she is, my beautiful fucking girl. We made him… He’s ours.

“I’m so glad you came, Jayj,” she cries.

“Me too, baby. Holy shit.” I grab a towel from the nurse, blotting the tears and sweat from Y/n’s face. “You did so well, y/n. Fuck. You okay, honey?” I mumble before meeting her lips.

“M'okay." God, I can’t stop. I kiss her deeper, making y/n smile against my lips. "I missed you,” she whispers.

“I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so damn much,” I sigh.

“You’re going to be such a good dad-”

“You’re going to be such a good mom. The best mom. The baby’s so lucky to have you as a mom,” I babble, kissing her forehead and cupping her dewy cheek. I hold y/n tightly, watching the nurse cradle the baby in her arms. She sets him on the towel, cutting and clamping the umbilical cord.

She walks over, resting the baby on Y/n’s chest, and in that moment, I feel a shift. Everything seems a little clearer: her, him, and they’re both mine. My heart feels like it could fucking burst as I look at him in her arms. He’s so tiny, so small and fragile. I just want to keep him safe.

Y/n’s lips rest on his tiny head, a pink and blue striped bonnet covering a mess of blonde hair, just like mine. “Jayj,” she whispers, extending him to me. I draw the baby close, blinking, my tears gone. He’s so peaceful; his eyes shut tight. I can feel the warmth of his little breaths against my skin.

“Wow,” I sigh, looking up at the ceiling as tears fall. Y/n rests her head on my shoulder.��We’re okay. Everything’s okay.

“You look beautiful,” I breathe.

“You’re a liar, JJ Maybank.” Her nose scrunches, eyes rolling away. Fuck. I missed her.

“I’m not. I promise.”

“You’re never going to want to have sex with me again,” she chuckles through a sigh, hands resting on her once-rounded tummy. 

“You jokin’?” I scoff. “Been dreamin’ about that for the last, what, nine months now? S'the first thing we’re gonna do when we get outta here.” Y/n chuckles as she raises an eyebrow, making me double back.

“6 weeks, Jayj,” she whispers as her flushed cheeks blush even more.

“No…” I gasps. “You sure? I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doin’, princess. Gonna need to fact-check that shit.” I give her a taunting look, making her roll her. “M'just kiddin’, sweetness.” Taking out my phone, I flick to the calendar, checking the dates. “The 24th, baby girl.” Y/n lets out a sleepy little laugh, tucking herself in my arms again.

“Babysitter?”

“Mhmm… Whoever you want,” I soothe.

“Sarah and Pope.”

“Ah, Cameron and Heyward. Couldn’t agree more, baby.” She snuggles in a little closer, her eyes on the little bassinet, watching the baby sleep. “So…” I sigh as I take a deep breath.

“You wanna know why I’m officially a Pogue, Jayj?” She asks weakly.

“Yeah… I’ve got a few questions, princess. That’s a good start,” I mumble, resting my lips against her temple. She takes a deep breath, expelling a laborious sigh.

“Umm… Well, my parents didn’t want me to have the baby-”

“Stop,” you whisper, shaking your head 'no.’ “I think I know where you’re goin’ with this, and I can’t hear it. Alright? I don’t want you to say it either. Please.” Y/n bites her cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry - m'so, so sorry.” I cup her cheek, kissing her lips. “You got me… You got all my friends - you’re friends. This baby will be so loved, y/n. I swear.”

“Okay, Jayj.”

“Thank you for not doin’ that, baby. I just - I can’t even imagine that now,” I breathe, feeling my throat tighten as I watch his little chest rise and fall.

“It was never an option, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Why didn’t you tell me, y/n? Why did you think it would ruin my life? Why did you break up with me-”

“JJ,” she breathes as she rests her hand on my chest, grounding me again. “That was a huge fucking mistake. I’m so sorry. We had just started dating, and then you left. And, right before you left-”

“I was talking to John B about what a nightmare this shit would be…” I cut her short, dropping my head, nodding as I put the pieces together.

“When you came back, Jayj, I didn’t know what to do. And, I saw you with Kie, and you looked like the two of you had somethin’ goin’ on. Between that and my parents, I felt it would be easier for everyone if I went at it alone.”

“Kie is just a friend. Alright? She always has been. And life isn’t easy, y/n,” I whisper. “You know that just as well as me. Doesn’t mean that the hard isn’t worth going through. I swear I will be here for you both if you’ll let me.”

“Really?” Y/n asks shakily.

“Please, y/n.”

“I need you, J. I want you in my life,” she whispers, an unease in her tone like you may say anything but the apparent 'yes.’

“I need you too, princess.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she warns. “I have read books, sure, but if today showed me anything, it let me know I’m not fucking ready.”

“S'not true, honey. I’ve seen you with him already, and you’re a natural. We’ll figure this whole parenting thing out together,” I smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj.”

The lights are low; the sky is dark, only the glow of the television casting light in the room. Drawing back the blankets, I climb inside, pulling her back into my chest. I focus on the sound of her breathing, the way she fits in my arms, just like I remembered, just like I dreamt about. Her soft, supple skin and the sweetness of her perfume surrounds me.

There’s a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she calls. A hospital worker walks in with a bouquet. Y/n smiles brightly, setting them down on the counter. Reaching over, I snag the card from the top and pass it to her; a little smile stretches on her lips from the sweet gesture alone. “To our newest little Pogue. Welcome to the family, baby boy. Love, Aunt Sarah, Uncle John B, Aunt Kiara, and Uncle Pope.”

Y/n reaches up, brushing the tears from her eyes as I do the same. “Your friends are pretty special, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Our friends, baby,” I smile. “They’re gonna be so happy to have you around again.”

She smiles and nods before tucking the little note back into the bouquet. Tonight was horrifying… a stark contrast to this moment. The woman I love is no longer in tears, no longer in agony, no longer scared. She’s my light… My safe place.

“What were you gonna name him, y/n? I’m sure you already have something in mind.”

“Jaxon James.”

“JJ?” I hum happily as I pull her in tight. Her sparkling eyes match mine, a blissful smile setting in her perfect lips.

“He looks just like you, Jayj; your nose, your hair, your eyes,” she sighs dreamily. “He’s perfect.”

“He’s so damn cute. Oh my god,” I whisper; catching a glimpse of his round cheeks and pouty lips.

“Can he have your last name, Jayj?”

“Oh wow,” I breathe, her question alone conjuring up yet another round of tears. I flutter my lashes, doing my best to keep it together. “Of course, baby. Thank you. That means a lot to me… You mean a lot to me,” I whisper.

“You two mean everything to me, Jayj.”

I hold her cheek in my hand, brushing her buttery-soft skin with my rough thumb. “We’ll start with him, then you, of course. When the time’s right.”

“Yeah, Jayj?” She whimpers through tears.

“I never stopped lovin’ you, y/n. Of course, I wanna be with you forever. Let’s start with the first step. Huh? Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

She grabs my face, lips crashing into mine as her body language alone screams 'yes’. My hands fall down her body; the familiarity of her in my arms feels just like home.

“Of course, Jayj.”

“6 weeks. Huh?” I tease, peppering kisses on her beautiful face through a gravelly laugh as she giggles and smiles.

“I love you, JJ.”

“I love you too, baby.”

[biblio-smia]

at the top of my list [ethan landry x reader]

pre-ghostface / no ghostface alternate - no spoilers for scream vi

masterlist | requests are open!

warnings: underage drinking (brief), brief angst but mostly fluff

pairing: fem!carpenter!reader x ethan landry

Rooming with Mindy Meeks-Martin came with its pros: for one, she got you out of having to room with your two sisters — as much as you loved them, you couldn't bear the thought of having to live a tiny, cramped apartment with them, — plus, she was your gateway to the "full college experience" (her words). Then, there were things that came with Mindy that you hadn't decided were pros or cons; after all, she was the reason you met Ethan Landry.

It wasn't entirely her fault — but Mindy was Chad's sister and Ethan was Chad's roommate and in no time, he was part of the group.

It was strange, allowing new people into your lives, but first came Ethan, then Quinn, then Anika and eventually you got used to the feeling.

You warmed up to Ethan first and the fastest, despite making the worst first impression. You'd misheard his name as Ethan Laundry and laughed little too loud for a little too long at a joke only you were in on.

Ethan looked past this; he was far too focused on not stumbling over his own words even to recall the event that mortified you for weeks.

Your relationship with Ethan grew steadily as he came around more and more. It was always in a group setting and usually alongside Chad, but as the months grew on you engaged in more conversations by yourselves. Always somehow left alone with him, you felt yourself becoming increasingly comfortable around Ethan.

Anytime Mindy attempted to make a comment on you and Ethan, she was shutdown immediately, sometimes even before she could get a single word out.

You enjoyed Ethan’s company and he enjoyed yours — the dynamic you had now didn’t need to be changed.

Moreover, you certainly didn’t need Mindy messing things up.

You were adamant enough in your position that Ethan and you were just friends and you didn’t want anything more to Mindy that she cooled down on the would-be comments at least to your face.

“I just know they like each other. I can feel it.” Mindy argued.

“Jeez, I thought Chad was the matchmaker here.” Sam joked.

“Hey, it runs in our blood.” Mindy grinned. “But seriously, all I hear is ‘Ethan this, Ethan that.’ It’d be cute if the two of them weren’t so painfully clueless.”

“Well, why don’t we let them figure it out on their own?” Tara suggested, taking a sip of her drink. She knew how you felt about others meddling into your life, even if it was people you loved — she and Sam learned that the hard way.

Mindy groaned. “That’ll take months. Maybe even years. Do you really want to watch these idiots pine for each other for that long?”

Sam let out a “Hey!” in your defense, while Mindy and Tara looked around for support, both sets of eyes falling on the only person who could clue them into Ethan’s perspective: Chad.

“Well,” Chad glanced nervously from his sister to both of yours, eyes settling on to Tara’s warm brown ones. “He does talk about your sister a lot. Like… a lot.”

“That doesn’t mean we should do anything.” Sam said before Mindy could say anything. “She really wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“Even if it would get them together?” Mindy pleaded desperately.

“Let’s leave them be for now,” Sam stated decisively, offering Mindy a small smile. “Let them figure it out on their own.”

「 ... 」

Knowing Ethan Landry was the best thing that’d ever happened to you in moments like these; it was another group movie night in the apartment your sisters shared with the usual seating arrangements — Mindy, Anika, Chad, and Tara were comfortably squished on the couch meant for three while Sam stretched out her legs on the second couch; effectively shunning you and Ethan to the love seat.

At first, it was awkward — you and Ethan crashed into your respective, opposite, sides of the couch, trying to create as much space between the two of you as possible. Then, as time went on, the distance between you grew smaller; as Ethan grew more comfortable in your presence, he began a habit of whispering random movie trivia into your ear, always carefully watching for your reaction, whether it was a gasp of shock or a cute string of giggles. You weren't sure when it started; despite your tendency to hate people talking during movies, you began to look forward to Ethan's voice in your ear more than the actual movie. By the midway point of each movie, you would always end up leaning against Ethan's warm chest with his arm wrapped around you, insisting it was so Ethan didn't have to work hard to whisper in your ear.

Tonight, Ethan was huddled next to you, the fluffiest blanket you owned draped over the two of you. His hands found yours, playing with your fingers. The movie started around fifteen minutes ago; a fact from Ethan was overdue now. However, as you looked over you realized that Ethan's fidgeting with your hands was nervous and accompanied by frequent glances toward his phone.

"What's up?" You were the one whispering now, a look of concern on your face.

"Hm? Nothing..." Ethan trailed off, distracted, his eyes never leaving his phone.

Ethan wasn't much of a phone guy — especially not during movie nights.

However, you didn't press further, leaning back to try to watch the movie for once.

It wasn't until Ethan's phone dinged, and he reached for it faster than you'd ever seen — breaking the only contact you had with him —, that your suspicion began to grow. Ethan's phone was always on do not disturb, a habit you'd chided him for when he was unresponsive in the group chat — though you were the only exception, the only one he always responded immediately to.

It was surprising to see — you wondered if he was waiting for a grade to be submitted; but as far as you knew, Ethan had no big assignments due recently.

The notification was just an email and the disappointment was clear on Ethan's face. As soon as his phone screen turned black — his home screen photo of you and him disappearing — the screen lit up again, as did Ethan's expression. You averted your eyes. Whatever Ethan was excited about, he'd tell you. On his own time.

You were painfully aware of the minutes that ticked on and on as Ethan typed, waited, stopped to think, then typed again. The sounds of a text conversation suddenly seemed like the biggest interruption to the movie you could have experienced.

Just as your curiosity reached its peak, Ethan turned to you with one of the biggest smiles on his face.

"So, there's this girl..." He went on, eyes bright as you felt your heart drop. You weren't paying attention to his words, only mustering up smiles and nods at the appropriate times to make it seem like you were.

Just like that, the sacredness of movie nights, the hour and a half you intimately shared with Ethan, was gone. It was tainted by the prospect of another girl on Ethan's mind and you suddenly couldn't stand being within five feet of him, an unfamiliar ache sprouting in your chest. The pain only worsened the longer you sat there, processing as the sound of your heart pound drowned out everything else.

You got up suddenly, clutching the spot that screamed in agony. "I don't... feel good." You looked around, cheeks heating up as you realized you caused a scene, glancing at the one now paused on the television.

"Are you okay? Do you need medicine?" Sam asked, suddenly sitting up. She made a motion to get up and you waved her off; if she came up to you know you knew you'd cry.

"No, no, I'm just gonna... go lie down. I'll be fine." You stood true to your word, making your way through the small apartment to the closest room — Tara's — before anyone could say anything more. With your back turned to the living room and your quick exit, you missed the way Ethan sprang up, only discouraged from following you with a shake of Tara's head.

「 ... 」

Being alone with your thoughts in the dark might have been your worst idea yet — but at least you had no audience.

Ethan was talking to a girl. They weren't dating — he would've told you that immediately — but they were talking. Worst of all, there was no reason for Ethan not to talk to other girls. It wasn't like you were dating.

You began to analyze the entirety of your relationship with Ethan, trying to pinpoint where everything went wrong. Somewhere along the way, Ethan had climbed his way up and became the person you cared about the most — sometimes even more than yourself. You'd tried so hard to convince yourself that the love you felt for him was platonic, but you weren't sure platonic friends felt so strongly when there was a romantic involvement with someone else. This was jealously in its purest form.

You groaned, hands on your head as it began to pound. The sudden thought that Mindy was right popped into your head, making you groan even harder.

Knowing Ethan Landry had suddenly become the worst thing that ever happened to you as you realized, too late, that you were hopelessly in love with him.

「 ... 」

Tara and Sam came in after the movie ended, much sooner than expected. Tara instinctively flipped the light switch on, flooding the room with bright yellow light. The sudden irritation led you to cover your eyes with a pillow and groan once more.

"Do you still feel bad? What hurts?" You felt Sam take a seat on the bed, pulling your hands away from your face. You squinted, your eyes still not adjusting to the sudden light when Tara spoke up.

"You're crying."

Your eyes opened and saw the looks of concern on Sam's and Tara's faces, hands reaching for your cheeks where, as correctly observed, tears had streamed down.

"I didn't realize." You said softly, wiping your face quickly. An uncomfortable silence laid upon the three of you, unsure of what to say. Tara and Sam exchanged glances before Tara took a seat on the other side of you, placing her hand on your leg comfortingly.

"Did... Ethan do something?" She asked cautiously.

"What? No!" You shook your head to emphasize. "Well... not purposely."

Sam took your hand in hers, a knowing look on her face.

"He's... talking to someone. It's stupid, I know. It's my fault I didn't give him a reason to... I just didn't realize I..." Tears welled up in your eyes again as you trailed off. You didn't need to finish. Your sisters knew exactly what you were feeling.

「 ... 」

Mindy was next to find out about your feelings toward Ethan and the situation you found yourself in. To your surprise, you weren't met with the "I told you so" or other celebration you expected. Mindy accepted your statement quietly as the two of you lay on your separate beds, dark encompassing your shared dorm.

"What are you going to do about it?" Mindy asked.

"Nothing." Your voice came out shakier than you'd expected. "What can I do now?"

「 ... 」

Chad was the last to find out, after your permission to let him in was granted. You would've told himself if you didn't think it was useless to. There was no point in admitting something that was too late to act on. To say you were hopeless was an understatement; you no longer left your dorm for anything other than class. You hadn't hung out with your friends in days, including Ethan. You were running out of excuses to throw at him and you knew you were running out of time to be upset. You'd have to pick yourself back up eventually — but for now you let yourself be sad.

This decision, however, was not supported by your friends. Tara and Sam's position on their involvement in your life changed drastically. It started as a plan to get you out of bed, they swore, but ended up changing as they realized who the girl Ethan was talking to was.

Chad had reported back to the group everything Ethan had told him about her; Tara recognized her as the girl you sat next to in your English class. You'd mentioned her a few times in passing; she was a friend of a friend of Tara's.

"She's weird," Tara said, eyebrows furrowing as Chad pulled up her instagram profile. "Not in a mean way. As in, she's kind of obsessed with my sister way." Tara crossed her arms, suddenly defensive.

"So what do we do? I mean, I don't think she actually likes Ethan?" Chad asked, looking back and forth.

Sam shrugged. "She might. If we gave her the benefit of the doubt. But it's starting to sound more like something else..."

The four exchanged solemn glances, all understanding what had to happen.

"We have to break them up."

「 ... 」

It was a party that got you out of your room (after days of pleading from Mindy). You were warned beforehand that Ethan and that girl would be showing up. You were only attending, despite this fact, due to the promise of alcohol that you knew would help you get through the inevitable. It was going to happen eventually. Why postpone it?

You separated from Mindy immediately, downing a cup of whatever drink was available — that and a refill was the only prerequisite you had before you forced yourself to find Ethan. Though, it seemed to be the other way around as you turned and were met with an overly-enthusiastic girl on an uncomfortable looking Ethan's arm. It took you a moment to recognize the girl in the dim party lights, but when you did, you didn't bother hiding the shock on your face.

"Madeline?" You almost dropped your cup in surprise, recalling an interaction that had occurred a few weeks ago.

Your teacher was running late, and you were unsure if he was going to show up. You pulled out your laptop to try and take advantage of the hour and a half you had of your lost lecture to get some work done.

Madeline, who was always late, took a seat next to you, as she usually did. She was sweet enough from your limited interactions with her, though the class you were taking didn't leave much room for you to talk.

Though, as there was no excuse not to now, Madeline had the opportunity to engage in small talk with you.

You responded politely but shortly, a little irritated that she continued trying to talk to you despite your obvious desire to get work done. You quickly concluded that Madeline was one of those people who enjoyed the sound of their own voice; a normal person would've stopped talking by now at your short replies.

Your phone lit up out of the corner of your eye and you knew it was Ethan; his class had just ended and the two of you had plans after you got out of this one. You'd always told him to head back to his dorm and wait out the rest of the 45 minutes you had of class there; but he always insisted on waiting for you and walking back together.

"Ooh, who's this?" Madeline giggled, snatching up your phone, much to your surprise. You thought you'd left people like her back in high school.

"Your boyfriend?" She inquired suggestively, pointing at your lock screen — a picture of you and Ethan celebrating his birthday exactly at midnight.

You shook your head, grabbing your phone back a little aggressively.

"No." You responded. It was none of her business; but you weren't assertive enough to say that to her face.

Madeline gasped exaggeratedly. "But he's your lock screen? You sure you're not dating?" She asked as innocently as she could muster.

"No." You repeated, harder this time. "We're just friends."

It was weird enough of an interaction to make sure you were never in a situation where you had to sit near her in that class again, but you chose not to say anything. It was a standalone, isolated event. But now, she was here with Ethan and you weren't sure what to think anymore. However, you were certain you did not like her.

"Oh my God! Isn't this the biggest coincidence?" Madeline exclaimed, though the tone of her voice suggested it wasn't.

"Wait, you two know each other?" Ethan asked, his own surprise evident.

"Of course we do!" Madeline said, letting go of Ethan and bumping her shoulder with yours, your drink dangerously close to sloshing onto your shirt. "We're like, best friends!"

You couldn't help but scoff.

"Really? You've never mentioned her..." You weren't sure if Ethan was talking to you or Madeline, but it pissed you off regardless. Maybe the alcohol had been a mistake.

"Well, have fun." You said curtly, taking one last look at Ethan before walking off. You quickly found Mindy, Chad, and Tara hovering close enough to watch the interaction but far enough that you hopefully wouldn't notice; too late.

You made your way over to them, sighing as you took another sip of your drink.

"What are you guys up to?" You asked suspiciously.

Mindy and Tara looked around at anywhere but you; Chad, however, was not so fast. Your eyes landed on his and you could see the fear in them.

"Nothing!" He insisted too quickly. "Just waiting for her to make a fool of herself so Ethan hates her?" It came out more of a question, but a smile grew on your face. You'd caught them.

Mindy groaned, smacking Chad's arm. "Seriously, you are the weakest link."

"Guys, seriously, it's fine. I'm fine. Can we stop worrying about it and just have fun?" You insisted.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Chad asked, eyes looking at something behind you.

You turned just in time to see Ethan storming away from his date and to the kitchen where he poured himself a drink. Ethan never drank.

"I'll go... check on him." Your words were quiet but the rest of the group nodded anyway, pushing you towards Ethan.

"Slow down, there," you said, a little hypocritically as Ethan chugged the mystery contents of his cup. He reached for a refill but you placed your hands on his, stopping him. That was more than enough alcohol for someone who barely tolerated it.

He was agitated, you could tell, but not at you.

"Have you been avoiding me?" Ethan asked boldly despite the hurt in his voice. Maybe a little at you.

You sighed, stepping closer to him. "Let's go home?"

He hesitated, but nodded, letting his hand fall in yours as you motioned to Mindy across the room.

「 ... 」

You didn't let go of his hand even after you left the crowded sea of warm bodies and were met with the cool air outside. You glanced at him from time to time, though for the first time since you'd known him, his expression was unreadable.

"I wasn't avoiding you. I mean, I didn't mean to. I mean, I just... wasn't in the right mindset to see anyone." You attempted to explain, feeling ashamed all over again.

"You should've told me. I wouldn't have been mad."

"I know. I just didn't want you to think it was your fault."

You continued in silence, though you took your still interlocked hands as a good sign.

"Are you mad now?" You asked carefully.

Ethan shook his head. "I could never be mad at you."

Though instead of relief, you felt guilty.

"She said you were weird." Ethan started after a while. You raised your eyebrows, but kept quiet. "She said it was weird I'm your lock screen. And that you were obsessed with me." Ethan paused and laughed a little, as if acknowledging how ridiculous the accusation was. "She didn't realize you're mine." Ethan flashed his phone up to prove it as if you weren't well aware of the picture. But isn't it weird how she knew we knew each other? And she didn't say anything to me? I thought so." Ethan didn't give you a chance to reply, but he didn't need to; he made his decision, on his own. Though, you couldn't help the relief you felt at it.

It wasn't a long walk back to your building, and the two of you made your way up to your room quietly. Ethan habitually kicked off his shoes as he entered, making his way to your bed and taking a seat. You joined him and sat there, staring at your hands. The two of you looked at each other and opened your mouths to speak at the same time, suddenly stumbling over your words to try and let the other go first.

"You. Go." You said a little awkwardly.

"I love you. I'm in love with you." Ethan started.

"Ethan—"

"Let me finish, please. If I don't say this now I don't think I ever will." He looked to you and you nodded your encouragement.

"I love you so much it's terrifying. I don't know how to date or what any of that is like... but I know how I feel. I love you and I know you're my best friend and I don't know what to do anymore..." Tears were beginning to pool in his eyes as Ethan sighed. "Your turn?"

You couldn't help but laugh.

"I love you, Ethan. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize and even more to accept it... I think I picked the worst possible moment to realize..." You took a shaky breath. "But I think it worked out?"

"Yeah. It most definitely worked out." And with that, Ethan's lips clumsily crashed onto yours, your hands immediately moving to his face to guide him. You could taste the last hints of liquid courage on his lips and you were suddenly grateful he'd had that spiked punch; there was no way you'd gotten a confession out of him otherwise.

You separated to catch your breath, taking a chance to admire Ethan as you ran your thumb over his cheek. He grinned toothily, placing his hands on yours. You kissed him, softer this time, savoring the feeling of his soft lips on yours.

"I knew it!" A voice exclaimed from the doorway, causing you and Ethan to jump approximately five feet from each other, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

There they were: Mindy, Chad, Sam, and Tara with smiles on their faces as they high-fived each other proudly.

"This was all my idea," Mindy said excitedly. "I said we should make a plan—"

"That's enough out of you." Tara said, placing her arms around Mindy and beginning to drag Mindy out.

"You two should be thanking me!"

"We'll leave you two alone now." Chad said with a smile and a wink, causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

"Remember, it's my room too!" Mindy's voice carried from the hall as Chad shut the door behind him, leaving you and Ethan alone in the quiet once again. You groaned at Mindy's comment while Ethan laughed.

Ethan flopped down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. You joined him and he wrapped his arm around like he loved to do.

The comfortable silence was broken by Ethan — it was a whisper so quiet you almost missed it.

"You're my number one," Ethan confessed. "You always have been."

"Good," you replied with a smile as you leaned in to place a kiss on his lips. "Because you're mine, too."

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.4

Chapter 4: ​​Scandal Does Funny Things To Pride, But Brings Lovers Closer

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Male Receiving, Penetration Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other, 

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: I wrote this in two days and I’m lowkey unsure if this all makes sense LMAO. So here we are, at the final chapter… tf am I gonna do now… (*stares at all the unfinished series rewrites*) well… damn. See you at the epilogue. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

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Joel doesn't think you both slept a wink that first week, the two of you creeping around in the dead of night and again in the pre-dawn light. You were over at Joel's place every morning, right after your dad left for work. He still thinks you're in your own bed every night, only helping Joel out part-time during the day.

But in between when he leaves for work and when he gets home for dinner, you're right where you belong – by Joel's side. Or, in most cases, bouncing your fine ass on the end of his thick, throbbing cock until you're screaming his name into a pillow.

It's not as if you haven't tried to tell your dad the truth. Joel has, too. But it cuts him up to keep anything from his oldest friend, especially when he sees your dad on such a high. Telling him the reality of the situation would surely ruin him.

Even though Joel knows it's the right thing to do, the thought of shattering your father's newfound joy and confidence is almost too much to bear. He's seen the way your dad's face lights up when he talks about the success of his business, all thanks to Joel's intervention.

Your dad is even making noise about setting up a workshop on the East Coast, making Joel's original idea sound like his own. But if it makes him happy, Joel's happy. Because of all that, you and Joel made a pact – if your dad asks either of you directly if you're anything more than just friends, you'll tell him the truth. But he's been so busy that neither of you have actually seen much of him at all.

As uneasy as it makes Joel, keeping the both of you a secret just a little longer seems like the easiest way to avoid making waves. Or so Joel thought. It's been two weeks to the day, and Joel doesn't think you or him have ever been happier your whole lives, except for the sneaking around past your dad bit.

But your dad is no dummy. And Joel can see now that he should have just come out with it, long before helping him get his business into first gear. You both guess that you two got lazy.

It happens right after another one of your father's dinners on a Friday night. He's insisted Joel, Tommy, and Sarah come over, and he'll cook for all of you. But come eleven o'clock, when Tommy and Sarah go home, and then midnight, you and Joel are giving each other guarded glances. And your dad takes on the air of a man who has something to say.

"I should probably head to bed," you say, about to excuse yourself, but your dad asks you to sit.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, honey," your dad says calmly, shaking his head and laughing to himself. But it's not a happy laugh – it's a wounded, ironic kind of grimace he wears as his eyes settle on Joel's.

"And you, Joel? I suppose you're beat after spending the day with my daughter 'helping you out' around the house, huh?" your dad says cuttingly, but he regains his composure quickly.

"I guess I have somethin' to tell you," Joel croaks, trying to swallow but feeling his mouth dry as dirt.

"I guess we both have something to tell you," you add, making Joel jump when your hand slips into his, and you rest them both on the table.

Your dad takes in a sharp breath, steadying himself, and Joel has to say, he's being a fucking man about it. "So go ahead," he murmurs.

"Tell me all about it," he says before raising his hand quickly. "No. Don't tell me all about it. I don't need to know the sordid details... Just tell me when all this started, Joel. You too, hon'," he asks, looking over to you, his eyes filling up with tears before either of you even says a word.

"How could you?" he sniffs bitterly, looking every bit as hurt and betrayed as Joel thought he might, but he's not angry. Not angry at all. Just hurt that you two have been fooling around behind his back and keeping secrets.

You feel upset too and lower your head in shame, but Joel, for one, feels better now that he knows. The burden of the lie has been removed, and he's ready to face the consequences, whatever they may be.

Joel takes a deep breath, his hand tightening around yours. "I've been in love with her since the day she graduated," he tells your father, his voice steady and unwavering.

"Things moved quicker than I thought, and it wasn't until we both knew how much we were in love that it meant hurting you if you knew," Joel explains, not making excuses, but trying to help your dad understand.

Your father is silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "So. You coming all the way out here, for good. All that was just a way to get to her?" he asks, his tone laced with a hint of accusation.

"Don't twist it to make it look like that," Joel retorts, but your dad isn't entirely wrong.

"I meant what I said about helping you, and I still do," Joel reminds him, his voice firm.

"I can give her more than any man half my age, too. Give her a life..." Joel trails off, his words hanging in the air.

The tension in the room is palpable as your dad's anger flares, his words sharp and cutting. "What? Give her a life her father couldn't? She's my fucking daughter, Joel. Who the fuck asked you to help yourself, huh?" he demands, his frustration evident. But you interject, your own voice rising in defense.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I'm an adult. And I know you've provided for me, always made sure I have everything I need," you assert, your tone firm and unwavering.

"But do you think a woman like me is ever gonna have a guy like Joel just breeze into town, sweep me off my feet, and then let him go?" you challenge defiantly. "Getting eight bucks an hour tutoring part-time and living with my Dad into my old age isn’t the kind of life I had planned for myself."

Joel admires your fire, proud of you for speaking your mind. The air crackles with tension, but at least everyone is having their fair say. Despite the burning bridge, the honesty in the room feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

For your dad to take the news without his fists flying, Joel realizes he's matured more gracefully than he would have given him credit for. The pulse of the moment slows, the truth out in the open. No more hiding, but decisions loom ahead that may not be easy.

Your father reflects, a nostalgic air settling around him. "I knew that day of your graduation, sweetheart. And I know you better than you think, Joel," he says, his gaze shifting between the two of you. "I just didn't want to believe it."

"I love her," Joel declares, his voice unwavering. "I'm having his baby, Dad," you begin, the revelation causing a moment of shock between both your dad and Joel, before your laughter breaks the tension.

“You should have seen your faces.” You chuckle a little.

"Honestly, I want to have his kids, Dad. I want us to be together forever. I want to take care of Sarah. House, kids... the whole nine yards," you chime in, relief evident in your voice.

Your father's response is unexpected, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "I know you do, sweetie," he comforts you, a smile creasing his face. "You wanna be the mom you never had. And I guess I just didn't wanna lose the little girl I raised all on my own."

As your father prepares to leave, the moment's weight settles over you all. "I just need time, Joel," he finally says. "Time to get used to all this... Time to get used to not having her around."

The nuclear fallout you both expected never came, not in the way you expected. The night ends with a sense of understanding and acceptance, your father's blessing a silent promise of support and love.

Walking home next door, the weight of the evening hangs heavy in the air. In the quiet of your shared bed, you find solace in Joel's arms, the raw emotion of the moment bringing you closer than ever before. You are crying in his embrace, the tears flowing freely as the tension and relief of the confrontation with your father wash over you.

But it feels just as good to Joel, this shared vulnerability. Sharing the not-so-great times as well as the good times – this is what being with someone is truly all about. The good thing is that you don't have to keep anything secret anymore, and better still, you both have your dad's blessing.

Probably the most important thing for Joel, because without his best friend and the woman he loves, where would he be?

"We good?" you sniffle, rubbing your puffy eyes as you look up at Joel. He lifts your face from his chest, holding you close.

"Oh, we're better than good, darlin'," he smiles back at you. "We're perfect," he tells you, stroking your hair as you lie silent for a long time.

"I love you," you eventually murmur, drifting into a dreamless sleep with a little smile playing on your lips.

"And I love you more," he promises you, kissing your forehead goodnight. He's already waiting for the morning so he can tell you the same again, his heart swelling with the knowledge that you are his, and he is yours, without the need for secrecy or shame.

The weight of the evening has lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and contentment. No longer do you have to tiptoe around, hiding your love and affection. Your father's blessing, though not without its reservations, is a testament to the depth of your connection and the trust he has in Joel to care for you.

As you sleep peacefully in Joel's arms, he can't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. This woman, this life, is more than he ever dared to dream of. With your father's acceptance, the path ahead is clearer, and Joel is determined to cherish every moment, to build a future that will make you both proud.

As you stir from the depths of slumber, the remnants of a dream linger, tantalizing and vivid. Joel's image flickers in your mind, a hunger burning behind your eyelids, a relentless craving that claws at your senses.

With a slow, drowsy blink, reality floods back, engulfing you in a haze of sensation. Heat coils low in your belly, radiating outward as awareness seeps into every pore. And then you feel it—the intoxicating pressure between your thighs, a languid caress that sends sparks shooting up your spine.

Your gaze drifts downward, heart pounding in your chest as you take in the sight before you. Joel lies beneath the duvet, his form obscured yet unmistakable in the dim light. His rugged features are softened by the shadows, the scruff of his beard grazing your skin like a promise unspoken.

A shiver courses through you as his tongue dances over your slick folds, igniting a firestorm of need that threatens to consume you whole. Your back arches involuntarily, a breathy sigh escaping your lips as pleasure blossoms deep within.

"Joel... fuck..." you moan, the words torn from your throat in a desperate plea for more. His head emerges from beneath the covers, lips glistening with your essence, eyes smoldering with untamed desire.

"You gotta be quiet, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice thick with a southern drawl that sends shivers cascading down your spine. "Might wake the whole house up. Can you do that for me, be a good girl?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, pulse racing as his words wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore. With a nod, you bite down on your lip, a silent promise of compliance as you surrender to the whirlwind of sensation engulfing you.

As Joel's tongue delves deeper, tracing patterns of ecstasy along your sensitive flesh, your senses spiral out of control. Every flick, every swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body, igniting a fierce inferno that threatens to consume you whole.

"Fuck, Joel," you whimper, fingers tangling in the sheets as you surrender to the heady rush of sensation. His touch is electric, setting your nerve endings ablaze with a fervor unlike anything you've ever known.

With a low growl, Joel's lips capture yours in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance of desire. His hands roam over your trembling form, tracing the curves of your body with reverent exploration.

"You taste like heaven, darlin'," he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "Gonna make you scream my name until the whole damn house knows who you belong to."

A shudder wracks your body at his words, desire pooling low in your belly as you succumb to the primal urge driving you both. With a wordless plea, you arch into his touch, craving more of him with every fiber of your being.

Joel's fingers slip between your thighs, finding you slick and ready for him. With a wicked grin, he teases your entrance, circling your clit with agonizing slowness before plunging deep inside you with a single, relentless thrust.

"Fuck, yes," you cry out, the words torn from your lips in a breathless plea for more. Joel's pace quickens, each thrust driving you higher and higher until you're teetering on the edge of oblivion.

In the soft glow of morning light streaming through the window, you find yourself tangled in Joel's embrace, limbs intertwined in a mess of sheets and limbs. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the rhythmic cadence a comforting lullaby as you revel in the aftermath of your shared passion.

With a tender sigh, Joel presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle against your feverish skin. "God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I could spend eternity right here, just like this."

You feel the heat stain your cheeks at his words, warmth flooding your veins at the intensity of his gaze. "I feel the same way," you whisper, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. "Being with you like this... it's like coming home."

Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, his eyes alight with adoration as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "You're my home, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp that sends shivers dancing down your spine. "And I'll do anything to make sure you feel safe and loved, always."

His words linger in the air, a comforting blanket enveloping you. In Joel's embrace, you discover a sense of peace, a haven amidst life's storms. Here, in this quiet moment, you realize that with Joel beside you, and you're so excited and can't wait to see what happens next.

As the morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table, you took a deep breath and shared the news with Sarah and Tommy. The revelation of your relationship with Joel and your decision to stay with them while your dad was away for the week hung in the air, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Sarah's eyes lit up with joy, her enthusiasm palpable as she practically bounced in her seat, devouring her scrambled eggs with gusto. Tommy, ever the observant one, shot you both a sly look that made your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

You knew you needed to work on being quieter, but it was a challenge when Joel had a way of taking you to heights of pleasure that left you gasping and moaning, unable to contain the sounds of ecstasy that escaped your lips.

The dynamic between the four of you shifted subtly, a new energy crackling in the air as the unspoken tension of your newfound relationship with Joel lingered between bites of toast and sips of coffee. Sarah's infectious excitement was contagious, her chatter filling the room with a sense of camaraderie and shared secrets.

Tommy's knowing glances added a layer of intrigue to the morning, his playful smirk hinting at a deeper understanding of the dynamics at play. You couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at the thought of Joel's touch, his presence a magnetic pull that left you yearning for more, even in the most mundane moments.

As the morning unfolded, the anticipation of the week ahead hung in the air, a mix of uncertainty and excitement swirling around the breakfast table. The unspoken promise of stolen moments and whispered confessions added a layer of tension to the morning routine, turning the mundane into something charged with possibility.

With each passing minute, the weight of your decision to stay with Sarah and Tommy while your dad was away settled over you, a mix of nerves and anticipation building in the pit of your stomach.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, you found yourself in the midst of a perfect evening with Joel. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze created a soothing backdrop to your shared moment.

Joel's hand in yours felt like a perfect fit, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. The two of you had decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby park, the soft grass underfoot adding to the sense of intimacy that enveloped you both.

As you walked side by side, the conversation flowed effortlessly between you, a mix of playful banter and heartfelt confessions that deepened the connection between you. Joel's laughter was like music to your ears, his Texan drawl adding a touch of charm to every word he spoke.

"You know, darlin', I can't get enough of these little moments with you," Joel said, his gaze warm and adoring. "It's like the rest of the world just fades away when I'm with you."

You felt a blush creep across your cheeks, your heart fluttering at his words. "I feel the same way, Joel. Being here with you, it's like everything else just falls away."

The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a romantic glow over the scene. You couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his features bathed in the warm light, his eyes reflecting the beauty of the moment.

As you reached a secluded spot by a tranquil pond, Joel's gaze met yours, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his touch sending a surge of desire through you. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.

"I can't get enough of you," Joel murmured, his voice low and husky. "Every moment with you feels like a dream."

You melted into his embrace, the heat of his body searing through you. The air crackled with tension, desire simmering just beneath the surface as you lost yourselves in each other.

The soft rustle of the wind in the trees provided a gentle soundtrack to your shared moment, heightening the sense of intimacy between you. In that perfect moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Joel's touch, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you.

As the evening drew to a close, the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, casting a magical spell over the night. With Joel by your side, you felt like anything was possible, the future stretching out before you like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of your love.

The stars had begun to twinkle in the darkening sky, lending an enchanted quality to the night. As you and Joel continued your leisurely stroll through the park, hand-in-hand, you couldn't help but be filled with a sense of wonder and possibility.

As if reading your thoughts, Joel squeezed your hand gently, his dimpled smile lighting up his features. "What's got you smiling like that, darlin'?" he asked, his affectionate nickname for you causing a flutter in your heart.

"I don't know," you replied honestly. "I just feel so... happy."

Joel's smile widened at your words. "Me too. Being here with you feels like magic."

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, taking in the sights and sounds around you. The chirping of crickets, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant hum of traffic - it all blended together to create a peaceful symphony that added to the romantic atmosphere.

As you reached a small clearing by a pond, Joel guided you towards a bench tucked away under a weeping willow tree. Sitting down beside him, you leaned against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

"This is perfect," he said softly, gazing out at the tranquil water. "Just being here with you under this beautiful sky."

The next few days were a whirlwind of stolen glances and heated touches, the air thick with unspoken desire and anticipation. Every stolen moment with Joel left you breathless, your skin tingling with the promise of what was to come. The thought of your father's imminent return lingered in the back of your mind, but in Joel's arms, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.

One evening, as you stood side by side in the cozy kitchen, the scent of simmering spices filling the air, Joel's presence was a magnetic pull you couldn't resist. Without warning, he pulled you into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy with need.

"I've been craving this all day, darlin'," Joel murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin.

A soft giggle escaped your lips, your fingers trailing down the strong lines of his jaw. "You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"

Joel's eyes gleamed with mischief, a wicked grin playing on his lips. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what I have in store for you. I'm just gettin’ started."

Before you could respond, Joel scooped you up in his arms, a playful glint in his eyes as he carried you towards the bedroom. Your heart raced with excitement, your arms wrapping around his neck as he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body pressing against yours in a deliciously intimate embrace.

The room was bathed in a soft, golden light, the air heavy with the promise of passion and desire. Joel's touch ignited a fire within you, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that mirrored your own. Every caress, every kiss, sent a jolt of electricity through you, building the tension between you to a fever pitch.

Joel's breath was hot against your skin, his body moving in time with the rhythm of your own desires. He pulled away for a moment, gazing into your eyes, the only source of light in the room casting shadows across his face. "I love you," he whispered, his voice husky with need.

You couldn't respond, lost in the intensity of the moment. Your heart pounded in your chest, matching the throbbing pulse of desire between your legs. With a low growl, Joel moved his lips to yours once more, his tongue probing your mouth with a fierce hunger.

The sound of your labored breaths, mingling with the low growls of desire that escaped his lips. The air grew heavy with anticipation, charged by the electricity that crackled between you. His fingers traced the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your veins.

The heat radiating from his body, the primal energy pulsing between you. As he pulled you closer, your muscles tensed in anticipation, every cell in your body yearning for the connection.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, their tongues dancing together in a frenzied tango of need. You could taste the sweetness of desire on his lips, the tang of salt from your tears of pleasure. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory.

You couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as he spoke those words. You wanted nothing more than to take him into your mouth, venturing into the world of pleasure and sin that awaited you. You opened your mouth, allowing your tongue to dart out and wet your lips in anticipation, his eyes never leaving yours.

He guided his erection towards your mouth, the velvety head brushing against your lips. You opened wider, welcoming his invasion. His eyes darkened, and he groaned as you enveloped the entirety of his shaft in your warm embrace. You began to suck gently, the rhythmic motion of your head creating a wet, slurpy sound as your lips and tongue massaged him.

As he thrust deeper into your mouth, you struggled to breathe, your lungs involuntarily attempting to escape the suffocating embrace of his thick, pulsating member. Yet, you remained steadfast, determined to please him, to satiate his carnal desires.

His animalistic groans echoed in your ears, as though the very walls of the room had begun to quiver in response to his euphoric release. You could feel his veins, now bulging with the ferocity of his climax, vibrate against your sensitive lips and tongue, heightening the already intense sensations coursing through your body.

You could feel his heart pounding wildly, the rhythm syncing with the beats of your own. The room was filled with his scent, musk and sweat, a potent mix that drove you on. Your tongue swirled around his hard length, savoring the taste of him.

His hands gave your head a gentle squeeze, urging you on. His pleasure was your reward, the way his breath hitched and his hips thrust harder. You moved your head in time with his, sucking him deep, keeping a steady rhythm as his release approached.

The sudden tightening of his body spoke of his climax, and you knew you had to continue. Your lips glided up and down his shaft, focusing all your attention on the growing flutters within him.

Finally, he groaned, his release a hot, salty flood that filled your mouth. You swallowed quickly, eager to please him, the taste lingering on your tongue like the first bite of a ripe peach. He pulled away, breathless and flushed, his eyes locked on yours in a silent communion of satisfaction.

“You’re turn, darlin’,” Joel says, his eyes dark and his voice deep as midnight. You feel him grab your hips and begins to devour you, kissing every inch of skin and grabbing your body with an almost primal hunger. The air around you seems to grow thick with desire as you cling to him, your breath catching in your throat. He slides his hands up under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine, and you can't help but arch into his touch, moaning softly.

Joel's lips trail down your neck, and you suck in a sharp breath as his teeth gently scrape against your delicate skin. A warm flush spreads across your body, and you feel yourself growing bolder, more willing with each passing moment. He bites down gently, leaving a mark that matches the one he gave you days ago, and you shudder with pleasure.

His lips explore every part of your body, getting closer and closer to your core. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his desire for you palpable in his every touch. The pace quickens as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently, a possession claim of sorts. Your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

His hands, strong and calloused, graze the soft skin at the nape of your neck, expertly unfastening the delicate clasp of your dress. It falls to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you exposed in just a lace-edged bra and matching underwear. 

Simultaneously, his hands slide beneath your underwear, his fingers exploring, tracing patterns and leaving trails of fire on your skin. He pauses, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze fierce and unyielding. In that moment, you feel a connection, a bond that transcends physical desire. It's more than just lust; it's passion, raw and unbridled.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin against skin, and moans of pleasure, creating a symphony of desire that drowns out any other noise.

The air is heavy with the scent of sweat and musk, a heady mixture that serves to heighten the sensual atmosphere. The lingering scent of scented candles adds a touch of sweetness to the mix.

You can't take it anymore. The anticipation, the desire, it's all too much. Your body is on fire, begging for release. And Joel knows it.

"Fuck, Joel, please," you whine, your hips grinding against his in desperation.

He chuckles darkly, his lips grazing against your neck. "Alright, baby," he murmurs, and before you know it, he has entered you.

His cock slides into your weeping hole with ease; you're slick and wet from both arousal and anticipation. You gasp at the feeling of him filling you up completely, every inch of him stretching you in all the right ways.

Joel's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as if savoring every moment. But soon enough, the pace quickens as he pounds into you with a primal need. 

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each thrust sending shivers of pleasure through you.

Moans and gasps escape your lips uncontrollably as Joel hits all the right spots within you. Every touch feels like electricity coursing through your veins; every kiss like a fire burning between you two.

Your fingers grip onto his back desperately as he brings you closer to the edge. Your moans become louder and more frantic as your body tenses with impending release.

With one final thrust, Joel pushes both of you over the edge into pure ecstasy. Your bodies tremble together as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You cling onto each other tightly as powerful orgasms rock through your bodies.

As you come down from your high, Joel pulls out of you gently and collapses beside you on the bed. Your breathing is heavy and labored as both of your hearts beat in sync.

Joel pulls a blanket over both of your naked bodies before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. You snuggle into his chest contentedly, feeling more satisfied and loved than you ever have before.

The sunlight streams in through the window, casting a warm glow over your tangled bodies. You stir, slowly coming to consciousness as the events of last night flood back to you.

Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself staring into Joel's deep brown gaze. He smiles at you, his fingers still tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

"I love you," he says, his words soft and sincere. 

The sound of his voice is filled with love and emotion, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You smile and snuggle closer to him, basking in the warmth of his love. It's a feeling like no other, one that fills you with happiness and contentment.

As you lay there together in peaceful silence, memories of how the two of you came to be fill your mind. And it was the best decision either of you had ever made.

"I can't imagine my life without you," Joel whispers, breaking the silence between you two.

Tears prick at your eyes at his words. You feel overwhelmed with emotion - gratefulness for having someone like him in your life and overwhelming love for him.

"I feel the same way," you reply honestly, turning to look into his eyes once again. "I never want to lose you."

Joel leans in and kisses you gently, sealing his promise with actions rather than words. And as your lips move against each other's in a sweet embrace, all doubts fade away.

This is real and true love; a connection that goes beyond physical attraction or fleeting emotions.

It was a connection that defied reason and logic, a force that could not be contained or explained. It was a love that knew no boundaries and bloomed in every corner of their being, the sweetest melody that echoed in their hearts with every beat.

[beaujagr]

life paths I couldn't take

it's wild sometimes the way things go

I traveled to Rhode Island with my spouse, where he grew up when very young, and we stopped by Brown and RISD. As a pre-teen and teen, I'd planned for years to try to attend Brown for archaeology. I even knew the neighborhood I'd like to look for an apartment at, I'd mapped my way through the whole college. John, had he not moved here, would likely have attended RISD if he had the chance.

Neither of us ended up having those paths - I had to give up archaeology because of health and money, and getting married early when John was going to deploy changed a lot of plans. Even though I applied to Brown and a few other colleges, most rejected me, and the letters I did get back about interviews went to my parents' house, and my mom kept them until I was in my 30s and never told me about them. It was a dream, and had different things happened, maybe my life would have been different, but I also know I could never have afforded to go to school there, and I would have failed out of archaeology just like everything else.

Weeks before, I'd attended my other partner's dad's wedding in Vermont. They live in this super rural, private place with a big house connected to the garage with a deck, surrounded by trees, and it's quiet as hell - definitely along the lines of the kind of living space I would prefer, tho I like desert quiet most. But the wedding was the hardest part.

When John and I got married, I originally wanted an outside wedding, nonreligious, no kids in attendance, with a nice open space. We got married in March with a month to plan, so it snowed and his dad (a Baptist minister) performed the ceremony, we had it in a church with a VFW for the reception, and my mom still was basically running the show since I was 18 and we were broke so they decided there would be kids, that religion was a part of it no matter what, and there wasn't any pretty field or landscape for me to be married in. I was happy to marry John, but many of the guests are people who had already been hurtful toward me, and were hurtful to me afterwards.

When Thomas and I had our commitment ceremony, it was just the two of us at standing stones in Burlington, VT. It was very beautiful, but we didn't have a lot of money, we didn't have anyone there to witness, and it was brief. My photos are super dark from it and no one else even really knows about it, even though I wrote a little ritual game about it.

In both of these cases, I was still not really presenting as myself, either, because I hadn't come out before the first one and hadn't started T for the second one.

Thomas's dad's wedding was almost all adults, mostly nonreligious in the presentation (no church, no sermon, etc.), and on a beautiful alpaca farm in Vermont with all their family and friends there to support them and be happy with them. Behind the ceremony, you could see the mountains and clouds with god rays shining down, fields of wildflowers, and the big building for the reception was lit up with beautiful lights and had animals running around outside before it stormed just as we all got inside to have dinner.

I would have done anything to have a wedding like that. I think if I'd had more time, maybe some of it would be possible. But I don't even know who I would invite anymore, and I know neither of my partners is big on the whole redoing the ceremony thing, and it's not like we could ever afford something that nice.

It's hard to express that I am not regretful of who I chose to be with or of the choices I made to keep being with them, nor do I regret making the choices when I did, but that I wish sometimes that I could have fulfilled my dreams and still been able to be with them. the reality is tho, I likely would never have achieved those dreams. No perfect wedding would have happened, my chances at a career and an education that I wanted ended up failing even when I realigned anyway.

It hurts a lot sometimes. I cried at the wedding because I knew I'd never have that experience. I cried after going to Brown because it's just another thing I never got to experience and do, another thing I failed to succeed at and achieve. That hurts, even if I love my partners and want to be with them more than I wanted those things, and still more than I want those things now. I just want to get to have dreams that are possible, and that can happen.

[chloemarievaughan]

And we’re off! May 19, Ghent

The last time I left the country was following college graduation on 2015, went on a fantastic family trip to Europe, and then my family flew home and I did another three weeks solo, had the absolute best time, flew home and the next month moved to Nashville, started grad school and quickly realized… my grad school budget did not leave much room for international travel 😂 then in 2020 the funniest thing happened… and my passport expired!

Fast forward to 2023 and Mike Vaughan decides to hike the Appalachian trail (he’s thriving and having the best time! He’ll be done in November) and so Lori Holycross Vaughan was suddenly available to be my travel buddy! got my passport renewed, we picked a date and decided on a ten day trip to Belgium and the Netherlands! Fitting because I ended my last international trip in Brussels 🙂

Writing this on the plane to London… Mom and I made it to the airport, thanks to Grandma Jean for the ride! I’m supposed to be sleeping. I am sitting in the worst possible spot for sleeping because my two neighbors are fascinating strangers and have struck up a super interesting conversation and I am hooked. (Are they flirting? is this a rom com meet cute?) the man is from England and was former military and now does some sort of international sports job where he teaches people about cricket, the sport. Sounds fake to me (the sport and the job). He has traveled a lot and his favorite country so far was Uzbekistan. The girl is from New York City and used to have an 80 year old roommate who owned an Italian bakery and baked her cannolis every day while she was studying, and she just got back from a trip to the Galapagos where she was doing some sort of cruise and hopefully something turtle related. Now they are talking about every single sport they are both interested in, the man is hoping ice hockey will become more popular in the UK, the woman prefers college basketball to the NBA. I hope they fall in love after this but they NEED to stop talking I am never going to go to sleep if they continue to be this interesting 😂

Update: the three year old across the aisle to me has now started singing loudly, I’m not sure which is worse for my odds of falling asleep… 4 hours to go 😬

-Miracle of miracles I fell asleep! Before they stopped talking too!

Update #3: Kristen and Dan exchanged names and numbers before getting off the plane! Very cute. but annoying 😂

Mom and I saved a few hundred dollars by flying into London and taking the Eurostar to Belgium… added some complexity into our journey though. Landed in London at 6 am, (we were the first plane to land once the airport opened haha), and then had an hour ride on the tube (thought of Dad while we heard “mind the gap” over and over again). Then we had a Eurostar to Belgium, but we were Extremely early. We went for a stroll around St Pancras Station, watched some double decker buses passing by at Pret a Manger with some Americanos. it felt like 3 am to us at this point. Eventually meandered back to St Pancras to check in for the Eurostar. When I went to London in 2015, it was pre Brexit, and so we didn’t need to go through immigration at the Eurostar, but now we did. It was fine and really didn’t take long but it seems like the station was not really designed with immigration in mind and there were SO many people in the station waiting to board the Eurostar. Most off to Paris+ Disneyland Paris, but some were on our train to Brussels, which had its final destination in Amsterdam. Our train on a Friday afternoon could more accurately be described as the drunk stag party train… even with earplugs it was the absolute loudest train I had ever been on. And I thought the Kristen and Dan saga preventing me from sleeping earlier was the worst… didn’t realize how much worse it could be. Seemed like they were all having a blast on the way to Amsterdam but again I didn’t really get any sleep haha.

Once we arrived in Brussels, we immediately got on the next train to Gent. While it was a really nice train, it was the wrong one- we were supposed to go on a direct train to Ghent taking 30 minutes and instead we stopped at every station and took over an hour to get there. Then we got our City Card- 48 hours of Ghent museums, public transportation and travel opportunities. We could have (in retrospect should have!) taken a tram to the city center/ where our hotel was, but decided to stretch our legs due to being tired of sitting down on trains and planes for hours and hours. this was a mistake as moms phone was getting close to dying, there were really narrow sidewalks, and cobblestone streets made it unpleasant to wheel our suitcases around for 30 minutes haha. Also, Ghent is absolutely Jam Packed with People this weekend- aparently unbeknownst to us it was a holiday weekend in Belgium and also there was some sort of festival. Finally made it to the hotel, recovered a bit, freshened up, and went on a stroll of the surrounding areas (spoiler alert: weather is Fantastic and I’m already in love with Ghent just from our stroll) and the sat in the St Baafs church square near our hotel and had an absolutely fantastic meal + some large, much needed Belgian beers. Now back in the hotel, relearned some old card games from long ago while trying desperately to stay awake until 9 pm to help us adjust to the time change. 27 minutes left until 9pm local time as I finish up this post… not sure I’m gonna make it 😂 more to come!

[imashoe69420]

Opposite Directions

Rise!Leo X Foot Recruit!Reader

Summary: Even though you’re supposed to be enemies, you and Leo often secretively hang out.

Relationship: Dating but not official

Pronouns: Feminine (she/her)

Warnings ⚠️: mild language, pure fluff then a lil angst

Timeline: Pre-movie (season 2)

================================

I waited quietly on the rooftop, staring down at my phone with Leo’s messages open. He’d last texted me thirty minutes ago that he was on his way, but the location we’d picked was about ten or fifteen minutes away from the both of us. Where was he?

The night was cold, the November air causing me to wrap my hoodie around body further. He better hurry or else I’ll be heading home. No one was even out. The streets were clear aside from the psychopaths walking their dogs or going out on night strolls. On top of this, Leo was your one and only escape from The Foot’s outlandish plans for world domination.

We met almost a year ago now. He and his brothers had been out patrolling and I was sent to scope out the area for paper stores. The brothers spotted me and gave chase for a few minutes before I eventually lost them… or at least thought I did.

As I was catching my breath, a brash voice piped up with an unbelievably cheesy quip. Of course I was hesitant in talking to him. I’d joined The Foot to save up for college—I honestly didn’t know what it was until my first mission. But hey, it paid $15 an hour—so I had nothing against any of the clan’s foes. Nor did I know that any of them were mutants.

We spent a few months sneaking to various spots around the city. One spot we frequented was a hole-in-the-wall Traditional Japanese restaurant with some of the best Yakisoba I’d ever had. Leo preferred the chicken Gyoza over the rest of the menu because it “has the perfect crunch and was better compared to the ones I make at home”. The turtle was adventurous but never went too far out his comfort zone, which I never complained about.

Ironically, spending time with him reminded me of the pleasure of life’s normalcies. Talking to him was easy because we could talk about the most random things and completely understand what the other is talking about.

Our conversations switched periodically from the differences in our lives to which one of his brothers would die first in a zombie apocalypse, to how The Lieutenant and The Brute have names and aren’t just “flame heads”. And, god, did that guy make me laugh. It wasn’t always because he was funny, but because he said his jokes with such poise.

After about 6 months, our conversations and actions became more suggestive. Like, he would say something that could be interpreted as a pickup-line and I would retort with something to solidify his judgement. Or we would be walking down the street and I’d brush up against him or vice-versa. Something of the sort happened for a couple more weeks until he told me how he felt.

It was so unconventional and makes me laugh every time I think about it. Leo and I had been talking about the way we’d want to die (getting shot or having a heart attack were considered lame. Getting evaporated by a laser beam? People would talk about that for generations) when I paused to take a bite of the gyoza we’d taken to-go.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He had asked me. “Or—a girlfriend, maybe? I don’t judge.”

When I shook my head and asked him why, he said something along the lines of, “well, you should. You’re fun to be around.”

I teased him, asking if that was his way of confessing his undying love to me.

“Er—well… sorta.”

Things hit off pretty quickly from there.

“Boo!” A voice suddenly screeched from behind me.

With a scream, I lurched forward and spun around to face my alleged assailant only to frown at the blue clad turtle hugging his sides in laughter.

“There’s no way that got you!” He wiped tears from his eyes.

I crossed my arms against my chest. “Well, you’re late so I wasn’t immediately expecting you.”

Leo scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Relax, they didn’t let me off as easily as last time. ‘You’re always going out, Leo. What’re you up to?’ and whatnot. You know the deal.”

I did know the deal. There were a couple of times we couldn’t meet up because I had the same line of questioning from the other members of The Foot, especially when I’d try to sneak out of patrol.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I placed a hand against his plastron before pressing a kiss against his cheek. “So, do you have anything planned? Or just gyoza tonight?”

“Hm,” he hummed to himself, temporarily stunned by the peck, “dunno. How about takeout and a movie? It’s been getting colder out and might I remind you I’m cold-blooded.”

As if on cue, a gust of crisp air blew down my hood. We both shivered before mutually agreeing on the plan.

~~~~

While I searched for a movie, Leo chowed down talking about how glad he was that he found the Japanese restaurant. In reality, I had been the one looking for places to eat since—as stated before—Leo preferred to stick with what he knew and I told him previously that I refused to have pizza every time we hung out.

I squinted my eyes at him. “You found it? I think you may be remembering things wrong.”

He swallowed before cocking a would-be eyebrow at you, an arrogant smirk stretching across his face. “Eh, don’t think so. I remember you walking straight past it when we were looking for it on the GPS. I was the one who pointed it out.”

With an eye roll, I flicked the back of his head. “You wouldn’t have known that was the place if it wasn’t for me.”

The turtle shrugged before returning back to his meal. One of the things I enjoyed the most about Leo was the witty banter we’d often have. We would go on for several minutes snarling back and forth over the dumbest things to snark about, but it was always fun, especially when the banter became flirtatious.

Finally, we settled on a movie and cuddled up on the couch. I tried to immerse yourself as it was one of my favorites, but Leo often distracted you through any and all movies we watched together. Whether that was by pointing out a cringy couple saying, “that’s us!” or pulling me closer to him inch my inch. By the end of the movie, I would be in his lap or pressed against his plastron. If it was anybody else, I’d never let it slide.

In the midst of the film, my phone went off. Knowing what this meant, Leo snatched it off the coffee table and half-jokingly placed it behind his back before I could even think about raising my arm.

I groaned as I reached out toward him, urging him to return my phone. “I’m gonna have to go anyways, Leo. I can’t just ignore it.”

“Yeah, but you always have to go.” The turtle unhurriedly deposited the phone into my hand. “Skipping out one time won’t kill you, (Y/N).”

Shrugging, I stood up and ambled into my room to put my Foot gear on. When I return to the living room, Leo is still there. He looked me up and down before a grimace took over his features.

“Y’know, you don’t have to be a part of The Foot. I know it’s for college and whatnot but… they’re bad guys.” The blue clad turtle averted his gaze to the paused TV screen. “It’s just… I duwanna fight you if it comes down to it. And I want you to meet my family… I don’t like that we have to stay a secret.”

“Ah, Leo,” I stood in front of him and used my thumb and index finger to tilt his chin up towards my gaze, “aside from villains and heroes, we live in two different worlds. You don’t have to worry about things like money. I do. In a perfect world, we won’t have to be secret. But until I’m able to save enough, my hands are tied.”

Slowly, Leo followed you out the window and onto the rooftop. His home and The Foot Clan headquarters were in opposite directions. I could tell something was on his mind, but he opened and closed his mouth like the words simply couldn’t leave from between his lips. I tilted my head to the side in curiosity, and that seemed to get him to form words.

“(Y/N)—I just… I dunno, I just… I know college means a lot to you. And it means a lot to me that you’re passionate about something. But…” he looked off into the distance, a melancholy expression on his visage. “We can’t keep this up forever. One day, I’m gonna have to decide: you or my brothers. What’s gonna happen then?”

I stood frozen, conflicted by his statement. This was true. He and his brothers were enemies of The Foot Clan. And The Foot didn’t like them all that much either. Eventually, we were going to clash. Would we pretend to hate each other? Would we have to? I knew I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

But as a villain, we had no standards. Betraying them would be easy, but I needed this money more than anything. And for Leo, he knew he was siding with the good guys. He would never turn on his own family for me, and I respected this.

With another shrug, I furrowed my eyebrows. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to see.”

I could tell that wasn’t the answer he was looking for by his disappointed expression, but it was the truth. Both of us held priorities above one another and wouldn’t give them up no matter what. Although, his was something you could respect undoubtedly. Mine was not.

Leo let out a sigh and offered you a half-smile. “I guess we will… but I hope not.” I’d thought he’d simply leave, but he walked towards me and pulled me close before pecking my lips. His sly smile afterwards melted into a look of admiration. It’s a look I’ll never forget.

With that, he disappeared into one of his brightly lit portals, leaving me in my lonesome atop my apartment in the chilly November night.

[gamerwoo]

[SVT Imprinted] Junhui/Minghao: Ours

Characters: Junhui x female reader x Minghao

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, poly au, angst, a little tiny bit of fluff in the beginning but that’s basically it, pregnancy stuff (reader’s pregnant), mention of needles, it’s basically just all angst because one of them is very very sad lmao

Word count: 4,519

Summary: Faye promised to keep your secret, but you know you have to tell Jun and Minghao eventually. You know somebody will get hurt, and you know you’ll get hurt, but it’s better to tell them yourself than let them find out on their own. You just hope it doesn’t completely ruin your relationship with your mates.

Tags: @psshwa @uglyratlmao @brokenbutchocolate @shra-vasti @killcomet @aceofvernons​ @minluvly​ (if you’d like to be added to the tag list, please fill out this form!!!)

Unable to tag: @junuoyi

a/n: like the last part, there was no specific request for this but they tied in a poll w wonwoo so here we are !!!!!

Previous | Next | Imprinted Masterlist

Month One

Everyone was still excited about Faye and Wonwoo, but the excitement started to die down as school picked up for everyone. You tried to focus on your studies more to distract from the secret that you only told Faye about, but you knew your mates would pick up on it soon. They were both becoming highly territorial, even snapping at each other.

At first, nobody said anything about Junhui and Minghao bickering and growling at each other. They thought maybe it was pre/post mating season stuff. But when it happened for a whole month, everyone was starting to get fed up with it, demanding to know what their issue was. Neither of them knew, and they still just thought the odd thing their instincts picked up on was Faye.

-

Month Two

You didn’t know when morning sickness would pick up, but you never got it, surprisingly. You were thankful since you hated the feeling of throwing up, but you felt bad for Faye, who was getting sick left and right. You tried to help her as much as you could since she was keeping your secret to herself.

“You have to tell them,” she advised one morning while you were holding her hair back since Wonwoo was downstairs making breakfast before class. “They have to know; it’s been two months, _____.”

You knew you’d start showing soon, so you knew you’d have to tell them before it happened, so you just nodded.

“I will,” you promised quietly, though your hands were shaking now.

-

Month Three

You finally decided to tell them while your body still looked mostly the same. You sat both of your mates down one night, standing in front of them. Minghao looked nervous just from picking up on your body language, and Junhui just seemed confused.

“Love, just sit with us,” Minghao frowned.

You shook your head, “Hao, please just…listen for a minute.”

He sighed, but nodded for you to continue.

You inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled slowly.

At the last minute, you chickened out, holding your head in your hands, “Ah, you’re going to hate me…”

“Baby, we could never hate you,” Junhui frowned, reaching out to take your hand from your head.

“It’s alright, _____, just tell us what’s wrong,” Minghao cooed, reaching for your other hand and holding it in both of his.

One hand in Junhui’s, and one hand in Minghao’s, you slowly lifted your head, your eyes glancing between the two pairs studying you. You chewed on your lower lip, knowing they’d be upset that you kept this from them for almost three months, but you had to do it now. You’d dug this hole for yourself, you shouldn’t make it any deeper.

“I’m…” you paused, barely able to choke out the word in a whisper, “pregnant…”

Minghao’s eyes widened, leaning back a bit but still holding onto your hand. Junhui leaned forward, looking confused like he didn’t hear you. But you know he heard you.

“Wait…what?” Jun asked.

“It’s why you guys are at each other’s throats,” you frowned, bowing your head again, “and I should’ve told you when I found out, but I–”

“When did you find out?” Minghao interrupted.

“…A little over two months ago,” you admitted timidly.

“Holy shit,” Junhui breathed, staring off into space as he took all of this in.

Minghao frowned, standing up and getting very close to you, “Love, why didn’t you tell us?”

“I was afraid,” you told him, your lower lip quivering as your eyes started to fill with tears. Your voice broke the more you talked about it. “I have two mates, and there can only be one father, and I-- I didn’t want either of you to be mad at me or the other one.”

Minghao frowned, letting go of your hand to pull you into his chest. Jun still held your hand, running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles as he was deep in thought.

“_____, neither of us will ever be mad at you, okay?” he promised, stroking your hair with one hand, and rubbing your back with the other. “This is not your fault.”

Your free hand held onto your younger mate tightly, your tears soaking into his shirt, “I-it’s not?”

“No,” he chuckled, pulling away to cup your face, “how could it be? It takes two people to make a baby, silly.”

Junhui suddenly looked up like he was brought back to the present, “But who’s the second one who made the baby?”

Him and Minghao made eye contact with each other, unsure what to say next. While neither of them were upset with you, they felt a little hostile toward each other. Both of them wanted the baby to be theirs – it would be the first baby you’d have, and they both wanted to be the first – so they just stared at each other in a tense silence.

They promised to never be mad at you, but neither of them said anything about each other.

-

“It’s easy,” Joshua promised as he rolled up your sleeve.

After one of your classes, you dropped by the medical building to see one of the two pack doctors. With Joshua’s knowledge of the medical field, and his access to the medical building, he was the one that would be performing the paternity test -- Aya was unwilling to get dragged into the middle of the drama. You decided to just get it over with, wanting to know who was the father before the baby was born. It was best to rip off the band-aid, as Joshua advised.

“Needles aren’t easy,” you mumbled, noticing the needle he had prepped just a moment ago.

“I have to draw blood, but it doesn’t hurt,” Joshua chuckled before prepping your arm. “When are dumb and dumber showing up?”

“Hao’s coming during his break, and Jun stayed home today, so soon,” you assumed, watching Joshua up until he had to put the needle in your arm.

You had a tiny bump that was easily hidden by sweatshirts and any baggy, thick shirt. Faye was a little farther along, and all she wore were sweatshirts, so at least that made you feel a little less weird about only wearing baggy things. It made you feel a little better knowing there was somebody going through this with you, but Faye didn’t have to worry about who the father was and one of her mates being upset if it wasn’t them.

“Are you going to find out the sex beforehand?” Joshua wondered to distract you from the needle.

“I don’t know,” you told him. “Minghao said he’d want it to be a surprise, but Jun said he wants to know. Jun can sometimes be a blabbermouth, though, so… I guess it depends on who the father is. If it’s Hao, I won’t find out; if it’s Jun, I will.”

“Who do you think it is?” Joshua smirked, pulling over a rolling chair and sitting down across from you.

You turned to look at the older boy, chewing your cheek as you thought, “Can’t werewolves sense who it is?”

“No, we can only sense that the person is pregnant,” he shrugged. “We’re not that good. We can tell who you have sex with because their scent is all over you, but that’s about it. We can’t tell you whose DNA is inside you.

“But I will say,” he continued as he messed with a few things on the counter, “that it’s not impossible to get pregnant by two people at the same time, but it’s a long shot.”

“How does that happen?” you asked.

“Two uteruses,” he replied as he organized the tools, his brows furrowed slightly. “You are, essentially, made for Jun and Minghao, so it wouldn’t be too far off to assume, but that’s still rare.”

You frowned, “I think having a second uterus is somehow scarier than dealing with a pouty werewolf.”

Joshua laughed, nodding in agreement, “Alright, yeah, that does sound pretty scary.”

It seemed like eons until your mates showed up. Somehow, they arrived at the same time, and you could already hear them bickering from down the hall. It seemed the more time that passed, the more protective your mates got. The bigger the baby got, the more possessive they grew. Wonwoo was the same way, though, so it’s not like it was strange. It just took some getting used to.

But they stopped when they walked into the room and saw you with the needle sticking out of your arm, and Junhui scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“Do we have to do that?” he asked.

Joshua sighed, “No, Jun.”

All Joshua had to do was swab the insides of their cheeks, and then he’d compare the DNA. It would take some time, but you still wanted to just get it done. Joshua and Aya were becoming the go-to doctors for you and Faye since finding a doctor who dealt with werewolves was hard to come by -- except Aya’s mom, but she was hard to book with.

“I’d really prefer my brother didn’t have to look at my mate’s vagina, though,” Wonwoo had huffed one night when the pack were talking about it.

“I don’t want my brother looking at it either, but beggars can’t be choosers,” Faye pointed out.

“How do you think I feel?!” Joshua had exclaimed.

The good news was that Joshua would have graduated before either of you were supposed to give birth -- though he’d have to go to another school after this -- and he was already doing an apprenticeship alongside Aya, working under Aya’s mom. The bad news was that he was your brother, and you really didn’t want your brother having to deliver your baby. But Aya’s mother worked at the same hospital, and Aya promised that she could get her mother to help out then, at least.

Your mates let Joshua gather DNA without a problem, and the fact they had to keep their mouths open – even if it was a short amount of time – kept them from bickering. It wasn’t even anything significant they were arguing over; they argued just to argue.

He then took the needle from your arm, gave you a little band-aid, and sent you off with your mates. Since you had no more classes, Junhui drove you home while Minghao went back to class.

Now, all you had to do was wait.

-

It felt like such a long time when the results came back. You had been studying in the living room all day while Minghao was at work and Junhui was at school. You and Hansol were practicing your Mandarin since you decided to take classes together with Joshua, so the two of you were sitting near the coffee table together – you on the couch, and him on the other side of the table on the floor. 

“Why the fuck does Mandarin make noises I’ve never had to make in my life?” Hansol asked as he scribbled on blank flashcards.

You laughed softly, jotting down in the workbook you were given, “I’m not the person to be asking.”

“Do you think your baby will learn Mandarin before you do?” Hansol wondered, looking up from his work.

You shrugged, dropping your pencil into the book and running a hand through your hair, “I hope not. For all I know, they’ll teach our kid bad words in Mandarin and I won’t know.”

“Minghao will teach it how to be polite and smooth,” Hansol decided, “while Junhui will teach it how to insult every single one of us without us knowing.”

You giggled, already knowing that was true, “Jun would teach it how to tell me off, and I wouldn’t even know.”

“Nah, Jun would hate having his child disrespect it’s mother.”

“You do remember how Junhui confessed to me, right?”

Hansol paused to think about it before nodding, “Okay, you might be right.”

Hansol suddenly looked to the door, but you didn’t hear anything until it opened, and you heard Joshua, Seungcheol, and Eunmi talking. The front door closed and the voices got louder as they approached the living room. Then you heard a crunch and realized it was Faye.

Faye craved pickles, like most pregnant women. However, she craved them with other things, which was strange She craved pickles with peanut butter, pickles with mac n cheese, pickles on pizza, just straight-up pickle juice – she was really addicted to pickles. But Joshua kept reprimanding her because she was pregnant and had to stick to a very strict diet. Thus, everyone in the pack started trying to keep pickles away from the tallest mate, but she always found them, even if she had to buy them at school.

So in walked Faye, carrying a packaged pickle in one hand, and a bar of chocolate in the other. You just giggled at her, and she shrugged.

Hansol said something to her in English that you didn’t quiet catch, and Faye just stuck her tongue out at him and went to take another bite of her pickle. That was when Seungcheol snatched it from her before handing it off to Eunmi, who bolted down the hall toward the kitchen. Faye looked down at her empty hand, sighed, and bit into her chocolate bar.

“Anyway,” Joshua continued, leading the girl to go sit down on the couch by you, “I got the results today. I’m sorry it took a little longer; I was swamped with work since graduation is this year and– Actually, you don’t care. Are you ready?”

Your eyes widened, barely catching Joshua’s words through his babbling. He knew who the dad was? Now? Already?

“Shouldn’t we wait for–”

The door was flung open before shutting loudly, footsteps racing down the hallway until Jun and Minghao appeared in the doorway of the living room. Both of them looked like they’d run straight from their respective locations, and you wouldn’t put it past them, either.

“I texted them,” Joshua smirked. “Alright, come sit down, you two.”

Junhao plopped himself down between you and Faye while Minghao sat on your other side. Both of them took one of your hands, their golden eyes trained on Joshua. They didn’t even bat an eye as Eunmi ran into the room to hear the announcement, sitting herself on the floor by Seungcheol’s feet.

Josh took a seat on the coffee table, facing both of you, “Ready?”

Minghao nodded eagerly, but you and Jun just stared at Josh. You didn’t know if Jun or Minghao looked excited, nervous, or somewhere in between because you couldn’t look away from Joshua.

This was it.

“It’s Minghao’s.”

While the grip on your right hand tightened, you could feel the one holding your left loosen, even if it was just a little. Minghao was laughing with glee beside you, looking to you as he expected you to be excited. However, you were looking at Jun as his jaw clenched and his golden eyes started to glint darker.

Everybody noticed the shift. Eunmi immediately stood as Seungcheol went over to remove Faye from the situation, putting her behind him and the smaller mate. Joshua leaned toward Jun, putting a hand on his knee.

“Junhui…” Joshua’s voice was a soft warning.

“Seriously?” Jun asked. Despite looking like he was getting angrier, his voice sounded broken and defeated.

“Junhu--”

He whipped his head around to you, his red eyes filling with tears, “Minghao’s younger! He’s the one who imprinted second, and yet he gets to have a baby with you first?!”

“Junhui, nobody could control that,” Seungcheol stated, trying to calm him down, afraid his emotions could make him become aggressive.

Junhui was never one to get very angry -- usually it was Minghao, but even then, it was more of an annoyance with things than anger. But they knew what he was capable of considering his instincts. You also kept that in the back of your head -- not that you thought he’d hurt you, but you knew his instincts could get the best of him in a time like this.

“Yes, we could!” he insisted as he stood suddenly, gesturing to Minghao. “If he didn’t imprint on her–”

“Jun, he can’t control that either,” you spoke up, though your voice was soft and timid.

Junhui looked down at you before his glare flickered to the younger wolf instead, “Then when he confessed, you should’ve told him-- You should’ve-- I don’t know!”

Minghao growled lowly in response, averting his gaze from the older wolf. Junhui still heard the growl though and growled louder in a way to establish his dominance over the younger one.

You weren’t going to let them act like this, though. You stood up, though Minghao still kept his hands on your waist – something Jun didn’t like. You sized up to your mate, and Joshua’s eyes widened, standing up as well.

“Told him what?” you asked, frowning up at your mate. “Told him no? You’d rather have your brother die than this?”

“No, I didn’t say that!” he whined. “I’m saying, this isn’t fair!”

Jun knew he didn’t want Minghao dead – he was his brother, and the one he was closest to in the pack because they came from the same place and shared a mate – but he was too angry to say anything else. Instead, he let out a whine like he’d been kicked, and stalked out of the room, his head bowed.

Seungcheol and Eunmi relaxed, and Joshua sat back on the coffee table, running his hands through his hair. Minghao pulled you back down, sitting you in his lap as he cuddled you. You didn’t cry or say anything, but he could tell you were upset. He knew you hated when him and Jun fought, and he knew you hated even more when you had to put yourself in the middle of the situation. Plus, the last thing you needed was stress, especially when it could hurt the baby.

“I’m sorry,” Minghao mumbled, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I wish this was happier for you.”

“I am happy,” you promised, turning to look at him. You pressed a soft kiss to the button of his nose, making the younger wolf smile and hum contently. “I couldn’t be more happy to be having a baby with you, love.”

At that, Minghao smiled brightly and buried his face in your neck out of embarrassment. Of course, the older pack members began teasing him, including the two mates. Hansol joined in just to break the awkward feeling in the room. You had even forgot the younger one was there, but he knew everyone else had it handled. Hansol figured more people intervening would just stress Jun out more.

Suddenly, Junhui stomped back into the living room. Faye grabbed onto Seungcheol’s arm as the angry werewolf passed by them and sat down next to you, putting a hand on your knee.

Joshua opened his mouth to say something, but Jun cut him off.

Despite the tears that had clearly escaped and slid down his cheeks, Junhui slumped back into the couch and sniffled, angrily wiping the tears away with his other arm.

But he wouldn’t say anything.

-

Junhui seemed constantly unhappy. You weren’t sure what emotion it was that he was feeling, or what combination of them. He would only speak in mumbles, grumbles, or growls at all times. He refused to speak to Minghao, and even though he always stuck by you – he always had a hand on you, too – you could tell he was upset even then. Jun didn’t like that it was Minghao’s baby inside you instead of his own, but he couldn’t fight his instincts. It didn’t matter how angry Junhui was, he had to be near you and he had to help you.

Despite his sulkiness, he still helped you get dressed, put on shoes, go shopping, etcetera. He even went to look at baby items with you, wordlessly throwing things into the cart that he either knew you needed or thought was cute.

You and Minghao had also been tossing baby names back and forth. Since you belonged to two different cultures, he thought it would be best to give them two names. Bomi bluntly told you that was too much, but Minghao told her to let the two of you decide for yourselves.

For a boy, Minghao liked the name Kaimin, and the name Yating for a girl.

You, however, liked Junwon and Eunyeong respectfully.

You had recalled that Junhui had told you once before that if he had a son, he’d name him Kai, so you decided you liked the name. But you were still fighting Minghao on the names, anyway.

“Junwon doesn’t roll off the tongue like Kaimin does,” Minghao pointed out as you laid in bed one night. “And Eunyeong is so long spelled out phonetically.”

“Oh, and Minghao isn’t?” you scoffed.

“Xu Kaimin and Xu Yating just sound better,” he nodded. “They flow easy.”

“Xu Eunyeong is still pretty,” you pouted.

“But can we agree on Xu Kaimin, at least?”

“Talk to me in the morning and we’ll see.”

Jun, who you thought was asleep on your other side, mumbled, “It should be Wen...”

But despite Junhui’s sometimes petty tendencies, he went to every doctors visit. Sometimes, Minghao would be late due to work or school, but Junhui always insisted on going. He’d hold your hand tightly, but he usually didn’t show much emotion, even when the ultrasounds came up.

But then the day came when you went into the hospital while Joshua was working for an ultrasound. Junhui had driven you, along with Faye and Wonwoo, who also had an appointment with Josh and Aya’s mom. Minghao was getting off work early to meet you, so you knew he’d be there soon.

Faye was crunching on carrot sticks as the four of you rode the elevator up to the correct floor. Junhui stayed silent as he usually did, but kept your hand securely in his as he watched the numbers tick above the door. Once it opened, he brought you straight to the room, where the two doctors – if Josh even counted as a doctor – and Minghao were already waiting.

“How’d you get here?” Wonwoo asked the younger wolf.

“I got off extra early,” he shrugged before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” you replied.

“You know the drill, _____,” Joshua said, gesturing to the bed.

Jun let go of your hand so you could climb onto the bed and pull your shirt up. Aya’s mom supervised while Joshua prepped everything so he could get the practice in. You didn’t mind the gel even though it wasn’t the nicest feeling, but Faye hated the coldness.

Jun stood on one side of you with Minghao on the other. Both doctors always made sure to not mention the gender, so you wouldn’t have to worry about knowing. But since you were farther along, the two could see things on the screen more clearly than they could at your other appointments.

“Dr. Moon?” Joshua looked over to Aya’s mom as he looked at the screen that showed off the baby growing inside your stomach. “…What…is this?”

Your eyes widened at his question. Minghao squeezed your hand from nerves, and Junhui leaned forward like he could somehow tell what was on the screen.

“Don’t wanna hear that question...” Wonwoo commented under his breath.

“What’s what?” Junhui asked, sounding concerned, which you didn’t expect from him. He seemed very ‘I don’t care’ about this, except when it came to your health.

Aya’s mother moved over to take a look. She hummed to herself, tilting her head slightly to one side as she studied the screen, taking over Joshua’s hand to move the ultrasound around herself.

“Well...” she finally began, “I believe it’s two.”

“Two?” you repeated, resisting the urge to jolt up and look at the screen yourself. “You mean…?”

“It’s a little hard to tell, but,” Dr. Moon continued, still moving the gel around on your belly to get a better look, but she still couldn’t seem to make too much sense of anything, “it looks like twins to me.”

“Twins?” you cried, both hands squeezing your mates’ for dear life.

Joshua turned his head, his professional façade breaking as he started to laugh, “Holy shit.”

“Jesus Christ, Hao, what did you do to her?” Faye asked.

“It gets a bit tricky to see so much in a small space,” Dr. Moon shrugged, letting Joshua take over once more as she turned to face you. “But I can see two heads, four arms, four legs, etcetera.”

You heard a low growl coming from Jun. You looked over at him, but he didn’t storm out. In fact, he didn’t do much of anything. He just stood there, glaring at the screen as silent tears slid down his cheeks. He didn’t move to wipe them, either. He just glowered at the ultrasound screen, wondering why he got the shitty end of the stick.

His growl turned into a soft whine that broke your heart. You wanted to pull him closer to you and hold him. You wanted things to be fair, but that wasn’t how things worked. All you could do was watch him as your own eyes filled with tears. You’d never seen Junhui cry – maybe once or twice before, but he’d leave the room – but he was just crying without making any noise other than the quiet whines and whimpers in his chest.

Junhui didn’t want to leave your side, but he didn’t want to sit here and listen to this. He didn’t understand why the universe hated him. He didn’t understand why he had to share his mate with someone else, when everyone in the house got theirs to themselves. He didn’t understand why he didn’t even get to mark you first, and now he couldn’t even have a baby with you first. It wasn’t that he necessarily hated his brother or wanted him to get rejected and die, he didn’t understand why Minghao got two, and he got nothing. And all he could do about it was just stand there and take it.

“Jun…” your voice was quiet, barely even heard by the two humans in the room, but your mate heard it loud and clear.

Junhui’s gaze stayed on the monitor, his brown eyes starting to flicker red through his contacts. You just barely heard his words, and you knew they weren’t aimed at you -- if the target was Minghao or the fetuses growing inside you, you weren’t sure -- but they still hurt to hear. Even after he had left the room, not even stomping or dragging his feet like he usually did. He just…left. His shoulders hunched, and his head hung as he went. Even after he was down the hall, all you heard were his quiet words.

“You ruined my life.”

[13atoms]

Tour Bus (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Eddie wants to spend the summer touring around in his van. More importantly, he wants you to come with him.

Short, silly piece about Eddie kitting out his van for a summer of #van life. Fluff and no plot at all. No description of reader other than that they're about to go to college (I think 'babe' and 'sweetheart' are used, that's it). I fixed the end of S4.

1.6k words. No major warnings.

“So, you’re sure we’re not just… living in a van,” you asked, watching in amusement as your sweaty, overexcited boyfriend tried to figure out a tape measure.

He was trying to measure the width of the van. It wasn’t going well.

After the government had covered up what had happened in Hawkins, Eddie had left hospital to discover a van on the driveway. The keys had been left inside Wayne’s new trailer, a rubbery bubble-writing keychain attached to them bearing the name “Edward”.

Eddie hadn’t even had time to grimace at the keyring, limping outside to stare at the van again.

His.

It certainly wasn’t new. It had been second-hand, but thoroughly cleaned – there were only twenty-thousand miles on the clock.

It was the best thing Eddie had ever owned. After a thorough inspection, he’d whirled around to grin at you – face manic with excitement.

“This is our year!”

And then he’d graduated. Barely. Walked the stage beside you, with a cleared record. Wayne had clapped from the audience, exhausted from the night-shift and hiding a proud tear as his nephew offered one last middle-finger to the crowd, quickly being bundled off stage in peels of laughter.

He’d done it.

And now he was ready to leave, excited for a summer of travelling, planned out in a notebook which sat on the van’s dash. You were quietly apprehensive about going with him.

This was your last summer before college, and spending it travelling with Eddie sounded nothing short of perfect. But… in a van?

“It’s a tour bus, baby!” Eddie called back to you.

You refused to let him call it the ‘Coffin-mo

bile’. Or any variation on ‘Corroded’.

The band had some upcoming gigs booked all across the neighbouring states – the pay would barely cover fuel, but it was a start. You and Eddie would meet the rest of the band at the venues, intent on completing your pre-college bucket list. And spending some quality time together.

Both of your futures felt confusing and scary, but this was real. Petrol and metal, you and Eddie. Four long months of exploring together. Forgetting about Hawkins.

It would be perfect. If Eddie could manage to figure out how to put a mattress in the damn thing.

“I reckon we just pick up my mattress and see if it fits,” the metalhead declared, apparently completely flummoxed by your idea to plan before lifting anything heavy.

“I thought measuring was like, your job!” you teased.

“Not measuring fucking vans!”

“Better with eighth-ounces?”

You could hear him grumbling inside the hot van, and it made you laugh. He clambered out of the side-door, taking a moment to watch you. You were smothering a giggle, and he couldn’t hide a wide smile as he took you in. Surrounded by camping supplies, food, and clothes, despite the fact you claimed to hate anything outdoorsy. Wearing one of his rings, even though it annoyed you when you wrote. Standing between his trailer and van, despite the fact you could be anywhere else right now.

He took a moment to appreciate the fact you were trusting him. Putting aside your skepticism to spend time with him – trusting that a man with no camping experience could keep you safe. He wouldn’t fail. He had emergency cash stashed under the driver’s seat for a motel room, just in case you started to hate living in the van. This was gonna be it, he decided. The beginning.

His year.

You stepped over the mess to fix his hair, frizzy from the late-afternoon heat and mussed up by his frustrated fingers combing through it. He smiled as you leant over his shoulder, peering into the dark interior of the van as your chest pressed against his.

“I can measure it?” you offered gently, reaching for the tape measure nestled in his palm.

He pulled his hand away from you, holding the tape measure behind his back and out of your reach.

“I’ve eyeballed it, I think it’ll fit,” he insisted.

You groaned at him. Rolled your eyes. Ducked his attempt to kiss you.

“Eddie, c’mon. This is stupid – ”

He pouted, feigning upset, dark eyes wide.

You sighed, then acquiesced.

“If you insist.”

*

“What do we put it on?” you called out, struggling under the awkward weight of the mattress.

Eddie had one foot in the van already, trying to manoeuvre the mattress in – apparently fitting it sideways. 

“Just slap it on the floor!” he grunted.

You let go of the mattress, setting it down so it was diagonal across the back of the van. Eddie frowned. You set your hands on your hips.

“But then where do we put a water container? An ice box? Clothes?”

He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically – it set his curls flying.

“Stop thinking of everything!”

“Eds, we’ll literally die if I don’t!” You laughed back at him, watching as he burrowed his face in his hands.

He took your lead, sitting on the mattress and staring out the open door at the trailer park he was so ready to leave.

He flopped onto your shoulder, his sweaty face in the curve of your neck. You knew he was being dramatic. He was succeeding in making you laugh anyway.

“We’ll get there,” you promised.

Eddie groaned again, the noise muffled against your neck. You shuddered as his breath tickled you.

“We should have measured the mattress first, though.”

“Yes, I get it!” he complained, flopping back on it.

“It’s okay. Lots of adult men lack basic DIY skills these days – ”

He grunted, sitting up to wrap his arms around you and pull you back onto the mattress, laughing as you wound up flopped on top of him.

“Am I not rugged enough for you, babe?” he laughed, using his grip on you to flip you over.

Pinned beneath Eddie’s slim frame you could feel the warmth of him, the effort of his breathing in the thick heat. He was a bit sweaty, and shaking with laughter.

You imagined a hundred nights of sleeping in this van, on this mattress with him.

Then, you dug your fingers into his sides and made him shriek in outrage. He was the most ticklish man you’d ever met.

“You’re totally macho, babe.”

He squirmed until he could pin your wrists at your sides, pulling back to raise his eyebrows at you.

“Doesn’t sound like you mean that.”

Trying to conceal a giggle, you leant up to kiss him. Eddie craned his neck to move his face away, still mock pouting down at you.

“You’re basically Harrison Ford!”

“Now I know you’re lying. No one is as good looking as Harrison Ford,” Eddie insisted, a glint in his dark eyes to tell you he’s teasing you.

“You totally are.”

“You are totally full of shit,” he laughed, letting your wrists go, content just to squash you.

“I’m not!” you insisted, letting your hands rest in the small of Eddie’s back.

“You totally are.”

“He’s not even in a band!”

“Just some lame movie, huh?”

“Exactly.”

Eddie smiled to himself for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours fondly.

“I bet Harrison Ford doesn’t even have a tour bus,” you whispered, feeling Eddie laughing gently against you.

“Damn right,” Eddie paused for a moment, “probably more groupies though.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

*

In the end, it took two full days to fit out the van. Your trip was delayed, but neither of you cared. You had nowhere to be in a rush.

Wayne had helped the two of you to build a frame for storage and the bed. You’d packed everything up, packing supplies in a brilliant organisational system which would be doomed within the week. Eddie had built a mini-kitchen around an old camping stove Steve had given him, completely kitted out by borrowing from both of your homes.

You’d mounted a bracket for his guitar, to keep it safe on the road, and so he could practice in the evenings. Eddie had pulled you into a tight hug when he saw it.

The damn mattress had gone in last, making both of you curse and strain until finally, the van was complete. Eddie had cheered as the heavy bed finally slid into place, disrupting the early afternoon quiet of the trailer park.

“This is it, sweetheart!”

“We’re done!” you panted, grinning across at Eddie.

From the red of his face, he was just as puffed out.

“Done!” he cheered.

“So  are we… going now?”

“Why not? We’ve got places to see, baby!”

Before you could argue, Eddie had bounced to the driver side door.

You were more subdued as you walked around the van. You’d known you’d be leaving today, fully packed and said all your goodbyes, but there had always been the possibility something would go wrong. It wouldn’t happen. As you looked at the van, heard Eddie fiddling with the sound system, it was suddenly real.

Eddie grinned across the cab at you, and you offered a worried smile back. His hand found yours as he checked the back of the van one last time. It was a complete mix of everything, your clothes and snacks and belongings all strewn in together. Staring into the back of the van from the passenger seat, a lump caught in your throat.

“This is our first home together,” you realised suddenly.

“That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

You were surprised there was only one false start (Eddie’s wallet, forgotten on the trailer steps) before you were singing out to the empty highway, windows down and music blaring.

“Babe?” he yelled over the music, voice drowned out as the wind whipped past the open windows.

You could have turned it down. This was more fun.

“What?” you screamed back.

“This is our year!”

[13uswntimagines]

Loose Lips Sink Ships (Soran X Swift!Reader)

Request: The Next Instalment of the Swift!Reader Universe where everyone finds out that the reader is dating Emily and Lindsey. Basically, 5000 words of the reader getting caught in compromising positions, having deep conversations with her sister and teasing some too invasive fans. 

Other Parts of the Swift!Reader Universe

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Taylor considered herself a very perceptive person, especially when it came to you. From the time you were little, she could read you like a book. She knew to look for the tilt of your head when you were curious, or how you scratched the back of your neck when you were nervous.

But this, she had never seen before. Your thumbs twiddled on your thighs, patting out an erratic pattern that didn’t match any of your favorite songs, and your feet were tapping out a completely different beat. You also kept tucking your chin, completely refusing to make eye contact with her. 

It wasn’t just tonight either. It was for the entire week you had been staying with her in her Manhattan apartment. She didn’t know if she could take another three weeks of you sneaking off to the terrace to make phone calls at midnight. 

She sighed, turning away from the stove to lean over the island, taking a long drag from her wine glass and eyeing you carefully. 

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You blinked up at her with owlish eyes. 

“You’re acting weird,” she added with a shrug, turning to whatever she was making on the stove. 

You took a large gulp of your drink and swallowed hard. You didn’t think you had been that obvious, but then again Taylor knew you better than anyone (well, there were two people who probably knew you as well as she did). Soon enough they would be just as good at getting information out of you as Taylor was. 

“I’m just tired. Pre-season and national team duty are kinda kicking my ass,” You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, praying to god that she would take this excuse. 

She nodded, tapping the spatula on the side of the pot before turning back to you and picking up her glass again. “I’m sure the media pressure isn’t helping that,” 

You shrugged.“Everyone just expects me to be you, and it’s a lot sometimes,” You mumbled, absentmindedly circling your fingers over the rim of your glass. 

Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed. She could tell you weren’t telling her everything, but if this was the route you wanted to take, then she wouldn’t miss a chance to reaffirm you. 

“I know, and I’m sorry for that,” She said softly, reaching across the island to gently grab your hand. 

You finally looked up at your sister, echoing her sad smile, and noting the worried crinkle by her eyes. “It’s not really your fault,” 

She nodded. “I know, but all I can do is tell you how amazing you are as many times as I can,” 

You held her gaze for a few more seconds, her seriousness giving you no reason to doubt her sincerity. 

It didn’t matter what the media, or your family, said about your career. Taylor maintained that you were just as good, simply because you were you. She was your greatest champion and most trusted confidant. 

You nodded, and she squeezed your hand before turning back to the stove. She knew pushing you to talk about what was really bothering you wouldn’t help. You would come to her when you were ready. 

You watched her thoughtfully as she put the final touches on dinner, checking on a tray in the oven and stirring the things on the stove. 

You were comforted by the familiarity of it, but the little voice in the back of your head reminded you that you also enjoyed this position when it was a different blond cooking for you (and the way Lindsey teased her while she cooked). 

The three of you had been together for nearly eight months, and recently you had all decided that maybe it was time to stop hiding. The first step was telling Taylor, but you weren’t really sure how. 

Your heart thumped in your chest at the thought of your two favorite women. Your girlfriends, you reminded yourself. They made you feel so many amazing, and terrifying things you had never felt before. Taylor always sang about those emotions, and you wondered if this was what she was talking about. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You asked softly, and Taylor paused her stirring on the stove. That was always the cue you used when you wanted to have a serious conversation. When you were nervous about whatever the answer would be. The last time you had asked that you wanted to know if she would be upset if you skipped college in favor of going pro.

Her opinion mattered to you more than anyone else’s. 

“You know you always can,” She said, avoiding looking over her shoulder (towards where she knew you were worrying your lip between your teeth). 

“How did you know you were in love?”  

Taylor paused, a pan halfway out of the oven, at the completely unexpected question. She should have seen this coming, she had seen the way those two looked at you. 

She cleared her throat, straightening and setting the hot pan on some oven mitts on the counter, before turning her full attention to you. She took in how you seemed so hunched in on yourself, your eyes still glued to your glass. 

“Well, She made me feel warm and bubbly like there was a hot spring in my chest. When anything happened, she was the first person I wanted to tell,” 

You blinked up at her, your eyebrows furrowing. “Like you were addicted to her? Like when she smiled, it finally felt like you could breathe?” You rushed out and Taylor let you, giving you to work through your emotions, before she pulled you into a tight hug.

You had a very bad habit of bottling everything up and pretending that you were fine (something she was sure her career choice - and your mother- didn’t necessarily help). 

“Did you feel scared of how much she made you feel?” You leaned into her touch, sighing when she ran her fingers through your hair. 

“In the beginning it did, but then it was freeing when I realized that she would be there to catch me,” Taylor said, kissing the crown of your head. 

You closed your eyes. You didn’t doubt that they would catch you, but the feeling of falling was terrifying. You were in deep and keeping it from your sister was difficult. 

“Dinner looks amazing and I’m starving,” You mumbled, and you felt Taylor sigh. She had gotten a little out of you, but definitely not enough to curve her curiosity. All in good time. 

“Let’s eat,” she said, kissing your hair and standing to make you two plates. She still had 2 weeks to get the rest of the story out of you.

****

You were in absolute heaven. Trapped in between the two warm bodies of your girlfriends, one set of lips moving with your own and another trailing kisses lightly down your neck.

Emily and Lindsey had spent one of their free days (between Adidas and other sponsor commitments) hanging out with you, and you couldn’t be happier. You spent the day exploring the city and checking off a massive list of stereotypical couple things the city had to offer. It had ended in a very romantic dinner at a little pub on the lower east side, and now some amazing kisses in your room at your sister’s apartment. 

Lindsey’s hands slipped under the front of your shirt, her nail scratching lightly up your tummy and ribs as she pressed herself further into your back. You sighed into Emily’s mouth, tilting your head to both give her a better angle on your mouth and give Lindsey more room in your neck. 

“Hm, we’ve gotta stop. Tay will be back soon,” You mumbled when Emily pulled back and turned you so Lindsey got her turn too. 

You felt Emily sit up behind you to get a good look at the clock. “You said we had till 12, it’s only 11:15,” you could hear the smirk in her voice, even as she kissed your ear and made her way down to the patch of skin on your neck she knew drove you wild. 

You bit your lip. It was one thing to ask your sister for relationship advice, and a complete other for her to walk in on it. 

Lindsey gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you wanna stop?”

Emily paused as they both waited for your answer. It was sweet and comforting how they always made sure you felt safe and that you were enthusiastically consenting to whatever you were doing. 

You shook your head and pouted. “No,” 

Lindsey sent you a very indulgent smile, her thumb gently rubbing over your cheeks. “Then less talking, more kissing,” 

You giggled into the kiss, a shiver running down your spine when Emily continued her ministrations in your neck. 

You hummed into the kiss, very much enjoying how their bodies felt pressed into yours. God, it was like you just couldn’t get enough. It was so easy to lose track of time with them. It wasn’t until a loud slam of the door and your sister calling “Y/n, you here?” That you finally pulled away from the women. 

“Shit! You two have to hide,” You squeaked, practically leaping from the bed. You threw Emily’s pants and Lindsey’s shirt towards the women on the bed, who were moving way too slow for your liking. 

“Where?” Emily asked, tripping as she tried to hastily shove her legs inside her pants, while simultaneously glancing around your room in search of a suitable hiding space. 

“I don’t know! Figure it out,” You said over your shoulder, taking a deep breath to hide your panic before you exited the room. 

You carefully closed the door behind you, she would have zero chance of getting any information out of you). 

“Hey kid, how was your day?” Taylor asked from the couch, looking over her wine glass at you. She opened her arms, and you immediately went to burrow into her.

“The best. I went out exploring,” Your entire face brightened (Taylor wondered if it was because you got to experience the city, or from the person, she was sure you experienced it with - ie the person(s?) who had left the hickey’s all down your neck). 

“Where’d you get that shirt?” She asked after a few minutes, pinching the grey sweatshirt (which conveniently had a number 9 and the USWNT logo on it). 

You blinked down at your outfit, your eyes widening, at your outfit, a pair of Emily’s Thorns shorts and Lindsey’s sweater.

“Oh, Umm,” you stuttered, racing to come up with a response when a bang echoed from your room. 

Taylor’s head snapped in the direction of the sound “What was that?”

“Nothing Tay,” You winced at another loud thump followed by several giggles. 

She raised an eyebrow at you and stood to go investigate for herself. She didn’t mind you bringing a significant other home (especially if they made you this happy) but she didn’t want them hiding from her. 

“Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to go find them for myself?” 

You crossed your arms like a petulant child and pouted. “I also spent the day with Emily and Lindsey,” 

“And?” Taylor asked, slightly confused. She liked the women and she thought you knew she would approve. Hell, she had practically given them the shovel talk already.

You sighed, hunching your shoulders. “They’re hiding in my closet because we were making out when you came home,” 

Taylor giggled at how absolutely pitiful you sounded. She patted your shoulder “Well, I think the closet is a terrible place to hide. How about you get them out here,” 

You nodded and stood to go retrieve the girls, slightly afraid of what Taylor was going to say to them. 

“And y/n,” she said just as you got to your door. 

You paused and turned towards her “Yeah?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. 

“I’m happy that you’re so happy to be dating them,” 

You smiled so wide that your cheeks started to hurt. It felt like a weight was lifted off your chest. No matter what happened going forward, Taylor supported you (even if you were sure she was about to give them one hell of a shovel talk and set up some serious boundaries). 

You nodded and entered your room. Perhaps it was about time that you all came out of the closet. 

******

You weren’t quite sure how you always got yourself into these situations. Maybe it was that you, Em, and Linds barely got to see each other outside of camp during the season, or maybe it was because the three of you were so sickeningly in love that you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. 

Whatever it was, you, Emily, and Lindsey couldn’t seem to keep your hands to yourself (especially after you came out to your sister). 

Even now, with the no girlfriends rule at camp, you found yourself pinned to the elevator wall by Lindsey’s hips, thoroughly enjoying the way Emily’s tongue was exploring your mouth (shivering slightly when Lindsey hit the sensitive spots on her neck) (with no idea how they thought this position was comfortable for them). 

You were so engrossed in your kissing that you didn’t hear the ding of the elevator, or the doors beginning to slide open. 

“Holy shit guys, at least let the girl breathe,” Kelley’s cackling caused all three of you to jump, and Lindsey to inadvertently knock heads with you. 

“Fuck,” Emily hissed, working her way out from between Lindsey’s arms and your chest. 

“Ow,” You mumbled, rubbing your forehead l, as Lindsey used a thumb to lift your chin so she could look at it. “You alright babe,” She asked softly. 

Kelley laughed louder at the mess that was the three of you trying to untangle yourselves from each other, ignoring Alex’s glare (teasing someone while their cheeks were as red as yours were wasn’t something she felt comfortable with). 

“Shut up Kelley,” Emily grumbled, pulling you off the wall so she could hug you from behind. You leaned back into the woman, taking whatever comfort you could. The three of you knew it was time to tell the team, but you hadn’t expected it to happen like this. 

“How long has this been going on?” Alex asked softly after a few minutes. There was no way the three of you could be so comfortable around each other if this was a new thing. 

“Almost a year,” You said, shyly looking up at Lindsey, who placed a very sweet kiss on your cheek while Emily placed the same on your other. 

“Does Taylor know?” Alex asked at the same time Kelley said “I’m gonna need an exact date,”. 

Alex slapped the back of Kelley’s head. “Not the time Kel,”

“Yeah, Taylor knows and is super cool with it,” Lindsey said softly, squeezing your hand. 

Alex tilted her head, looking to you for confirmation. You nodded. 

“Good, because I didn’t want to have to try and keep it from her,” The forward smirked, and you felt more heat in your cheeks. You all promised you would never mention that incident again. 

“She was terrifying last time we saw her mad,” Kelley grumble, rubbing the back of her head. 

“That was because you let Y/n surf in giant waves on her first time out,” Emily snorted, nuzzling her nose into the space behind your ear. Alex smiled softly at the sight of you so relaxed. 

“Are you three going to tell the team?” She asked. 

“You might have to if you are going to continue playing tonsil tennis in the hallways,” Kelley added, only for Alex to slap the back of her head again. 

“We hadn’t really talked about it yet…” You mumbled. Both of your girlfriends squeezed you (Lindsey getting your gains, while Emily tightened the arms she had wrapped around your middle). 

“Well, could you wait like 3 days? I have 20 bucks on you three taking until the middle of camp to come out,” Kelley asked, scratching the back of her neck. You rolled your eyes. Of course, they would have bets on you, but you weren’t about to bend over backward for it. 

“You knew?” Emily screeched. Kelley cackled nodding wildly. 

“You’re not exactly subtle,” Alex laughed. Anyone with eyes could see that you were head over heels for the women and that they were falling just as hard as you were. 

*****

The internet fucking sucked. You knew that and found it relatively easy to ignore the mass chatter of the online world, but then again you had never been a part of such a disgusting report by some shady internet reporter. 

All you had done was gone to lunch with Shawn Mendes, and someone had snapped a picture. The two of you had become good friends after spending so much time together on the 1989 tour. Now some random reporter was commenting on how you had confirmed your new relationship. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were anyone else, but Taylor’s fandom had blown up the small town reporter’s article. 

Now they wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone. 

“We’re not going to respond to it,” You huffed, crossing your arms adamantly in front of your chest, effectively pushing your plate of pancakes away. You squinted at the vets sitting across from you, completely baffled why they thought you would take any other route. 

Lindsey’s arm around your shoulder righted, while Emily leaned in, almost conspiratorially. “Of course not, but wouldn’t it be fun to send the fans on a little goose chase anyway?” 

Your ears perked at that. Taylor’s fans were always so fun to mess with. They made it so easy, particularly because your sister had trained them to always look for clues (that most of the time exist). 

“And we have been talking about wanting to come out,” Lindsey added softly. 

Your expression soured. You didn’t want to do this as a reaction. You wanted it to happen naturally. 

“I don’t wanna do that in response to some asshole who doesn’t understand boundaries,” You pouted. 

“But what if we did it our way?” Lindsey and Emily both asked at the same time. It was scary how in sync they were most of the time. 

“Like get the team involved, tease the fans. At least show them that you don’t play for Mr. Mendes’ team,” Emily shrugged, trying to act like she didn’t care, but you knew she did. 

You couldn’t help but smirk. You did love to mess with the fans. 

“If you do wanna mess with the fans, I have the perfect picture” Tobin chimed in, giving you that little push you needed. 

Emily raised her eyebrows at the woman, ignoring the glares the rest of the vets were sending her way. “Didn’t see you as a prankster Toby,” 

“It’s artsier than anything else…” Tobin grumbled, flipping her phone to show you the photo she was talking about. 

It was of you, Emily and Lindsey during a morning hike the team had taken. You were laughing, while both of their heads were tucked into your neck. You were the only one clearly identifiable, but it was clear you were smitten with whoever you were with. 

“Ooo, I like that one,” You said, suddenly feeling excited. It was bound to send the fans into a frenzy because you couldn’t see who was making you smile so wide. 

Tobin nodded and began typing out the post, before flipping it for you to read and ok. You giggled at the tag line “only those two knuckleheads could get you to smile this wide before your morning coffee”. 

“Good?” Tobin asked, and you nodded enthusiastically. It was perfect, and coming out this way- with the help of your team- felt amazing. 

“I have one too. You guys are too photogenic,” Christen said, pulling up her phone and begging to scroll through her photos (much like the rest of the team began to do). Were you guys really that obvious? No wonder they had bets going. 

*****

Your teammates were having way too much fun. You shouldn’t have been surprised considering how private the women normally were, it must have been nice to get some time sending the fans on a wild goose chase. You were also surprised at how many photos your teammates had taken of you and your girlfriends. And just how many of those photos were perfect for the little game you were playing with the fans. 

You could identify yourself on all of them, but Emily and Lindsey weren’t clear at all. But it was plain to see that you were very in love with whoever was sitting next to you. 

“Did you see Alex’s picture? It's amazing!” You said, wiggling excitedly between your girlfriends. The three of you had taken a break from the team and decided to cuddle while you watched the fans go insane. (It was honestly one of your favorite places to be). 

“Pshhh, no Pinos is totally the best,” Emily snorted. 

You pouted. She nudged your side and placed a very sweet kiss on your pouty lips. 

Alex’s photo of Emily and Lindsey throwing you into the ocean was totally better than the one of you shoving and chasing your girlfriends with birthday cake-covered hands. 

“No, Kelley’s is totally the top picture in the bunch,” Lindsey smirked, nudging your chin with her nose from your other side. 

You blinked up at her and looked at the photo of one of your favorite goal celebrations. You had literally leaped into Emily and Lindsey’s arms, but you were at least 3 feet higher than Lindsey’s head in that picture. 

You bit your lip. It was a very good picture, one of your favorites actually, but there was one that topped them all for you. “They’re all pretty good, but I think I’ve got the best one,” You said softly, pulling out your phone. 

It didn’t take you long to find the picture in question (it also happened to be your lock screen). You were smiling brightly at the camera, the reputation tour stage (lit for the song Dress) clearly behind you, trapped between Emily and Lindsey kissing each of your cheeks. Your girlfriends looked over your shoulders to catch a glimpse of your phone. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Lindsey asked softly. There was no hiding or pretending in that photo. It was open and honest (and a great picture of a fantastic night). 

“Yeah, it’s like speak now or forever hold your peace,” Emily added, and you could practically hear her eyebrow raising. 

“No, but I don’t wanna hide you two,” You shrugged. It was the balance you sister had worked her entire career to achieve. Hiding away meant that there was no commentary about your relationship from people you had never met (loose lips sank ships after all), but it also meant avoiding the little things that you longed to do in public. 

You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready to face the media, but your desire to be with your girlfriends the way you wanted was just so powerful. 

“You know we’ll wait as long as you need us to,” Lindsey said, using her thumb to tilt your chin and look you in the eyes. 

you nodded, your eyes never leaving her concerned blue ones. “I know but, like-. I wanna be able to hold your hand or kiss you and not have to worry who's watching. I want to be able to take you on dates, and not care about if a camera can see us cuddling. I want to be able to post about how great you looked in a game, or for your birthday. I don’t want to hide,” 

During your rant, Emily had wrapped herself around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder and rubbing her hands flat on your belly (which never failed to calm you down). 

“We know darling, but once this is done, it can’t be undone,” She said softly. 

You threaded your fingers through hers, glancing down to avoid Lindsey’s appraising stare (you never could get anything past them). “I didn’t think you were a Shakespeare fan,” You mumbled. 

“I’m full of surprises,” Emily said, kissing her favorite spot just behind your ear. Lindsey cracked a smile too “we both are”. 

“I know,” You nodded suddenly serious, as you carefully extracted yourself from your girlfriends and began to type up the Instagram post. 

You passed them the phone when you were done, idly twiddling your fingers now that you didn’t have anything in your hands. “I’m gonna do it if you two are alright with it,” 

“We’re fine with whatever you choose, we love you and just want you to be comfortable,” Lindsey and Emily both said, rubbing your back and arm respectively in a comforting motion. 

“I know, and I love you too. Let’s do it,” you said clicking the button and closing your phone. You didn’t need to watch the comments roll in.

It wouldn’t be until the next morning that you would see your sister had also decided to chime in. And you couldn’t keep the smile off your face at her simple caption- love my sister and her girlies. For sure the best squad ever. 

[nishinoyaswife4]

Part One

“Come with me.”

 An airline ticket to some foriegn was thrusted in your hands. You looked at your bright eyed boyfriend in shock. Noya had never been one to really think things through, and this was one of those times. You opened your mought but nothing came out. The both of you had just graduated high school. You knew of his plans to leave, but neither of you had discuss you joining him. You felt panic rise up in your chest. You love hime but you weren’t sure if this was the future you saw for yourself.

 “I can’t.”

 That was the day you both went your separate ways. You went on to college and he went to travel the world. You stayed in touch with your mutual friends if only to keep up with Noya’s newest adventure. You were happy for him, but every smiling picture made your heart ache. 

 Most of your friends failed to notice the slight saddness in your eyes, except for Kiyoko and Tanaka. You saw the both of them the most since Kiyoko was your room mate, and Tanaka was constantly visiting her after they reconnected and started dating. They tried to set you up on a few dates, but you just weren’t interested. They weren’t Noya. So they gave up hoping you would move on. 

 A few years later you still weren’t really dating. You blamed your job, but your closer friend’s knew better. You had changed a lot since high school, but you still felt a deep twinge of regret for the way things ended a few years ago. For a long time you pushed the thought back into the deep recesses of your mind. You even went out more at the insistence of your friends. There were still time where you found yourself scrolling through his social media looking at pictures he had posted. If you scrolled far enough you’d see the pictures of the two of you in school together. Babyfaced and full of puppy love. The fact he had kept them here after all that time apart made your heart skip a beat. 

 You sat on your couch staring at the old pictures probably for too long. Definetly too long since you hadn’t even noticed your friends enter your shared apartment. Kiyoko and Tanaka came up behind you ready to share news with you. Their faces dropped in shock when they saw the picture on your phone. Two third years frozen in time the boy kissing a timid blushing girl’s cheek. Kiyoko was the first to make you aware of her presence by clearing her throat. 

 “Oh! Hey guys!” You turned quickly hiding your phone.

 “Whatcha lookin at y/n?” Tanaka asked teasingly.

 “Nothing,” you reply nervously. “Oh so you’re not oogling my best friend’s pictures on instagram?” 

 “What? No absolutely not! I’m so over that,” You argue trying to convince yourself more than them. 

 “Then let me see your phone,” he smirks holding his hand out.

 “Thats a invasion of privacy,” you protest standing up to pre prepare for what comes next.

 Tanaka lurches for your phone, and you quickly run in the opposite direction. This has happened more times than you’d like to admit. He catches up quickly to you and grabs your arm reaching for your phone. Damn his slight height advantage over you. Kiyoko watches on in amusement you two have always acted more like siblings than friends. Probably from the years in high school where you had become used to eachother. She lets the two of you continue for a moment before clearing her throat again.

 “Y/N we have some news to share with you,” Kiyoko starts.

 You turn to look at her and notice something that hadn’t caught your eye before. A small diamond ring on her finger. Your eyes widen as a smile spreads across your face. Without anymore information about their news you congratulate them. The three of you celebrate their engagement by ordering in and watching movies the rest of the night. You’re happy for them you really are but there a nagging feeling in your chest. 

 The next few months you helped Kiyoko plan the wedding as best you could. Between work and planning you had no time to think about the boy you let leave. It took you by surprise when your friend asked you to be the maid of honor. You accepted quickly. You became increasingly excited to plan small parties and get togethers for them. While you planned the wedding shower your friends hatched a secret plan for you.

 The day before the wedding shower you missed all the sly smirks and looks your friend’s gave each other. You were all setting up the venue for the next day. A few of Tanaka’s old team mates and their partners came to help. They were all in on something that you clearly weren’t. 

 “Hey Y/n~” Tanaka called you over in a singsong voice.

 “Yes?” You turned toward him keeping your balance on the step ladder where you stood.

 “Could you run to the airport tonight and pick up a guest?”

 “Tonight? They aren’t coming in the morning?”

 “No they took a late flight so they could be here in the morning,” He smirked.

 “Who is it?”

 “My uncle.”

 You stare at him suspiciously for a moment longer. “Fine.”

 At that they rush you to the door handing you your bag and keys along the way. You make your way to your car taking an extra moment to look at your friends who were, not so subtly, peeking out the windows at you. You start your car mumbling under your breath that this uncle better not be creepy. You make your way to the airport and head inside to the gate Tanaka told you his uncle would be arriving from. There aren’t many other people standing around waiting like you are. Its only a few minutes of standing there before people start coming through the gate. Most of them are business men getting home from trips. You’re looking for this uncle you know nothing about when you see a familiar tuft of blonde hair wading through the crowd. Its in this moment you realise you’ve been duped.

 You consider running away before he sees you, but you know it will raise some questions if you show back up without him. So instead you stand there in defeat face heating up more by the second. Before you know it you’re standing face to face with the man your high school sweet heart grew to be. The shock on your face is mirrored by his own shocked expression. His face then shifts to excitement yours stays the same. 

 “Y/n? I hardly recongnized you! You cut your hair it looks good,” He begins as if it hasn’t been years. “Did you get taller since the last time I saw you?”

 “No,” You snort. “You’re just short remember?”

 “Hey!” He laughs. 

 It feels like old times now that the two of you are together. You have to refrain from reaching for his hand when you start toward baggage claims. This isn’t high school you remind yourself. He happily chats while you walk next to him the heat never leaving your face. You help him collect his bags and head back out to the car. You manage to croak out a weak ‘I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you.’ between his nonstop talking. Same Noya.

[cuquitalocita]

i love you yeah yeah yeah |rowaelin month- day 3|

rowaelin masterlist 

an: i’m not gonna lie, i had so so much fun writing this one! i’m a tennis player and my sister is as well, therefore why i know so much about the junior pro league. for those of you who don’t know, the orange bowl is an actual tournament played internationally for juniors and i’m ranting wow so anyway i hope this isn’t too tennis vocab-y :)

word count: 3,876

~~

It’s the final two days before competition at the International Orange Bowl this year being held in Terrasen and it’s no surprise that tensions between players and academies are more than high. We’re so glad to be here for yet another year of thrilling competition in which the winners will automatically be placed into the first round of the U.S. Open. I, for one, and more than excited to see some new teen faces this year, what about you, Gavriel?

You know Cairn, I completely agree and as someone from Terrasen, you must be more than excited to see some friendly competition on your home turf.

Oh, I sure am excited, but I don’t know if you’d call this competition exactly ‘friendly.’ For those of you unaware, the rivalry between the TAT (Tennis Academy of Terrasen) and the DTC (Doranelle Tennis Center) has been going on for close to ten years now, beginning all the way back to when founders Maeve Vesta and Evalin Galathynius were in college, rivals through and through. Now adults, their children carry on their competitive legacy, taking the nation by storm. If you see the final match of any tournament, you can bet your money it’s a Doranelle kid and a Terrasen kid. 

The stakes sure are high during this tournament, as it isn’t closed, like the academies’ usual ones. Instead, anyone player eighteen years old and younger with the qualifying points was eligible to register. I’m looking forward to seeing some new faces this year. 

Me too, but you can never go wrong with the usual suspects. This year, my money is on eighteen year- old Rowan Whitethorn from Doranelle, ranked second in the country, in the men’s finals. As Maeve’s nephew, Rowan has been put in the spotlight for most of his life, not to mention taking a clear leadership role among the DTC alongside Lorcan Salvaterre. 

That’s a good point, Gavriel, in the past years Rowan has made it to at least the quarter-finals but has always lost before he can truly do. I have a feeling the kid has a lot more in him.  And as for the women, I wouldn’t be too surprised to see the Terrasen seventeen year- old cruising through a few rounds before her tough competition starts. We can’t expect anything less than Evalin Galathynius’ daughter, right?

I for one, am more than excited for pre- first-round interviews. It’s always quite interesting to see each players’ mindset before they set out for blood.

~~

“What do you think our favorite golden girl has in store for us this year, Gavriel? Something tells me she’s a little more than annoyed given what happened at the finals of the last international tournament held in Terassen when Remelle Frost from the Doranelle academy beat her in what was the biggest upset of the season.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and glared at the back of her mother’s seat, the woman in question frowning as the annoying voice of Cairn Rossa rang through the rental car. She reached forward to turn the station off just as Gavriel’s voice rang out once more.

“Let’s not beat around the bush here, Cairn,” the older man was responding. “I’ve been doing this just a bit longer than you enough to know when a player isn’t themselves. One loss isn’t the definition of a player the same way one win isn’t either. I suggest both teams- including Aelin and Remelle themselves- step onto the court, and play.” 

Aelin let out a satisfied huff. She knew she had always liked Gavriel. Aelin liked that the man looked at the players as more than just players in a video game or statistics on a screen. As a former player himself, Aelin knew the man understood the game in and out and was more than qualified to report during the national tournaments, no matter where he was born and what side he was essentially placed on. 

The station was snapped off as her mother’s finger found the correct button, earning an annoyed glare from the Uber driver next to her that she promptly ignored in favor of turning back to her daughter, opening her mouth to say something. Aelin’s own eyes stared back at her before shifting down to the phone she held in her hand. It had just buzzed signaling a new notification that had her mother lifting her brows. 

Aelin immediately shifted forward in an attempt to look over her mother’s should before her hand was on her face, batting her daughter away with a motherly ‘leave me alone’ look. She relented, leaning back into her seat with slumped shoulders. Finally, her mother huffed but remained with her back facing Aelin. 

She knew it was different this year, she could practically feel it in the air. Without her father with the two women in the car, the tournament atmosphere was a different universe. 

It was getting dark outside, the sun setting behind them as they drove through the dazzling city. The car came to an abrupt stop in front of the hotel that sent Aelin jerking out of her own thoughts. Her mother turned back to her with a sad knowing smile and patted her daughter’s knee.

“We’re here. Try to get some sleep- you have a long day tomorrow.”

~~

“What���s the plan for today?” Aelin asked her mother around a mouthful of bagel the next morning. It wasn’t every day the founder of the University came to watch her players in a tournament, but whoever won this won would be fed into the first round of an official professional tournament. It would be amazing PR for the academy, Aelin knew, but she also knew her mother felt bad that her father had escorted Aelin to all of her tournaments in prior years. And now that he wasn’t here anymore… 

“Eat up- after you’re done I’ve reserved three courts at the complex and we’ll get together with everyone.” ‘Everyone’ being every other players from the academy who had enough points to enter the qualifiers. Not all of them were as highly ranked as Aelin, but she found it helpful to train with them all the same. They were her friends. “We do need to pick Lysandra up from the airport first though,” she said as she frowned at her phone. “Her flight was supposed to have landed a few minutes ago but she hasn’t reached out…”

Aelin rolled her eyes at her mother, she always did have a thing with protectiveness over her best friend. 

“Mom, don’t worry about it,” Aelin assured her. “Aed said he would pick her up and then meet us at the courts. I wouldn’t want to be in that car if I were you.” She faked a gag, causing her mother to laugh. 

“Alright then. Eat, find your rackets, and take the rental to the courts. It was just delivered this morning. I have some business to finish here at the hotel.” She left Aelin with a kiss to the head. 

~~

It didn’t take long for Aelin to pull up to the familiar yet daunting tennis complex bigger than even the academy, and she pushed the car into park, simply staring for a moment. 

This was it. 

Three years she had come close to winning as the youngest person in history. So close. But this was the year. This was her year. She could do this. She would do this. 

And so Aelin Galathynius pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin as she grabbed her massive tennis bag from the trunk and slung it over her shoulders. The weight was heavy and familiar as she walked through the glass double doors and to the front desk, only to halt in her tracks when she came face to face with a familiar head of silver hair. 

Rowan Whitethorn.

She had quite often mused about how unfair it was that her essential biggest rival was so attractive. It didn’t really make hating him very fair, now did it? But there he stood, green eyes shining and teeth flashing as he snapped something at the young man at the desk. The poor boy looked ready to pee himself and Aelin couldn’t help but release a sharp laugh, causing both Rowan and the blonde next to him to whip around.

Aelin watched as Rowan’s eyes sparked and his mouth curved into a sneer as he took her in from head to toe. She forced herself still and kept her eyes on his face. It was all she could do. Rowan opened his mouth and Aelin prepared her hackles to rise instantly.

“Aelin. Good to see you here.” But it wasn’t Rowan who spoke. No, it was Remelle Frost, her least favorite bottle blonde on the planet that spoke as she curled a possessive hand over Rowan’s bicep. Aelin simply rolled her eyes, never one to beat around the bush. It was common knowledge that the blondes didn’t like each other. And after the Adarlan tournament, Aelin wouldn’t hide her disdain for the girl.

“Wish I could say the same,” she replied dismissively as she shouldered past Rowan and made for the front desk. One charming smile and the boy seemed to handle her much better than Rowan. She gave him her mother’s name, him quickly nodding a confirmation and giving her the court numbers, saying they would be available in just a moment.

She turned around, unsurprised to see Rowan glaring at the back of her head. It had been almost eight years of this rivalry. At least for them. Aelin thought it might’ve been a little ridiculous, considering that it started with her mother and his aunt, but the Doranelle kids just made it so easy to hate them. So easy to want to pound them on and off the court. She wouldn’t apologize for the adrenaline the rivalry provided her with.

Aelin smirked, cocking her hip. “Like what you see?”

“Hardly,” he growled. “Just wondering whether or not you actually came to play this time.” 

Aelin recognized the comment for what it was- a direct jab to the last tournament where she had lost to Remelle. If the comment hadn’t pissed her off so much she would’ve recognized the compliment for what it was. 

“Well, that depends which game you’re talking about, Whitethorn.” Her voice was just teasing enough to annoy him once more, and Aelin’s grin grew. 

“Don’t you have a court to go find?” Remelle cut in from beside Rowan, who had distanced himself from her. Aelin didn’t blame him. She wanted to do the same thing.

“And here I was enjoying our little chat. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, mar sin leat.”

“This isn’t Terrasen,” Remelle hissed. “We say ‘good luck’ here. Gods, you Terrasen kids are pieces of-” 

Someone caught her by the waist as Aelin attempted to throw herself at the girl and she was soon spun around in their arms, coming face to face with her own eyes. Aedion’s were flashing too as his eyes were fixed behind her, no doubt at Rowan. 

“Leave it, Ace, it’s not worth it.” 

“It’s true, princess,” Rowan finally spoke with a sneer. “You’re gonna need those pretty little hands tomorrow. Wouldn’t want you to have an excuse when you get your ass kicked.”  

“Oh, I’ll show you-” 

Aedion dragged her away before she could get another word out, her fists clenched and her teeth bared. She shoved him when he put her down.

“Fucking Doranelle,” Aedion spat under his breath as he shook his head. 

He merely gestured to a figure behind her, causing Aelin to whip around with wide eyes. Shit. Duke Perrington grinned at her through the snake-eyed lens of his camera and gave her a tiny wave as she bared her teeth at him

Perfect. Now it would look like Terrasen had begun a fight before the tournament even began. 

Her mother was going to kill her. 

~~

Aelin felt like the stadium had never been bigger. She had known this year she would be playing where the professionals themselves did, including Maeve and her mother, but never in a million years had it looked so daunting or made her feel so small. 

The tournament had been, well needless to say, easy for Aelin so far. She had breezed through her first few matches, absolutely destroying the poor girls, and her third had been straight sets as well. But now it was the semis. And she would have to face Remelle on center court. It seemed the gods liked playing jokes on Aelin Galathynius. 

She could feel every pair of eyes snap to hers the moment she stepped onto the court but she looked forward. Maybe she was a crowd favorite- but that would do her no favors in the upcoming match. Aelin thought she was going to hurl all over her new shoes and she let the deafening cheering of the audience cover the sound of her pounding heart. 

Remelle walked in not long after she and Aelin met her in the middle of the court, racket in hand. Showtime. 

Aelin might have been paying attention when the coin had been flipped, might have been minimally involved when she called heads or when she won the call and opted to serve first. She might have been only slightly aware of her surroundings as she took a small sip of her water and walked to the back of the court. 

And then it was movement.

It was backward and forwards, side to side, low and high, and it was the same dance Aelin knew better than anything. The same feeling in her feet when she sprinted to the ball and the same stretch of muscles when she reached for a shot. This was who she was- this was the pattern she had lived for ten years. 

But it didn’t seem to matter, not as the score continued to tip less and less in her favor with every passing point. She was playing well- but Remelle was playing better. And there was nothing Aelin could do but survive and ignore the satisfied smirks the other girl would throw her during their side changes. 

Think, Aelin, think. 

Nothing was coming to her head. All she could hear was the pounding adrenaline through her body telling her to play. To cross each bridge when she came to it. There was nothing more she could do than play.

It was then, when Aelin threw herself at a particularly difficult ball, that she felt something shift. And she knew she was screwed. 

Aelin was a tennis player- she had rolled her ankle before. But this was different. It had never hurt this bad. And as the rest of her body came down with her ankle, she thought that it could be it. That it was the end of the match all due to a stupid ankle injury. 

With her heart in her throat, Aelin signaled to the red- headed umpire. 

Injury, she mouthed to her, and the woman- Ansel, it seemed her name was- simply nodded. She was in the massive locker room without a second thought, dragging out a spare bucket of ice held in one of the corners of the room and shoved her foot it. Might as well get it over with.

Aelin winced as the ice on her foot began to take effect and her muscles began to ache, her breathing beginning to lose its consistency. Gods, she hated this. She hated the useless feeling that came over her at the thought of possibly being unable to finish the match. At the thought of all the people, she would be letting down. 

She was tired. Aelin was so, so tired.

Gods, she just needed-

The door to the locker room burst open with a loud and abrupt clang, causing Aelin to jerk forward, spilling water on the ground as she opened her mouth. She was ready to tell them that she needed some privacy before her eyes locked onto a familiar figure that sent her heart pounding for a different reason. 

“Rowan, you can’t be in here!” 

The hulking boy ignored her protests, striding over her in no more than a few steps, both of his hands immediately going to the base of her neck to search her gaze with his own worried one, clearly not caring that he was in the girl’s locker room and would be kicked out of the tournament if he was found. 

“Are you alright?” he insisted, his voice low and hoarse, forest eyes intense.

The gentleness in which he touched her had Aelin sighing and her hands reached up to lightly take hold of his wrists, bringing them down and gathering them in her own hands to hold to her chest. 

She hadn’t meant to fall for Rowan Whitethorn.

But like everything in her life, it had happened quickly and unexpectedly, and Aelin had dealt with it head-on. It had been a year now. An entire year of playing tournaments in each other’s home’s just so they could see each other. Just so no suspicion was be aroused by the tabloids. 

And Aelin hated it. 

All she wanted to do was be able to link her hand through Rowan’s in public without causing a public scandal about a decade-long rivalry. 

“I’m okay, you fussy buzzard,” she teased as she looked at him, pleased to see when the frown on his lips twitched the slightest bit upward. “It was just a little fall. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

But because he knew her so well, he had heard the uncertainty and fear in her voice as she spoke. So saying nothing, he pulled Aelin to his chest and allowed his arms to wrap around her completely, enveloping her in the scent that she had considered home for months.

And as she breathed him in, she wished home wasn’t always so godsdamned far. 

Rowan let her breathe shakily into his chest, constantly running a soothing hand up and down her back as he hummed a small melody that he often did to get her to sleep over the phone at night. Aelin was the first person to admit it was much better in person.

“You don’t have to do it, Aelin,” he said finally, his movements never ceasing. “You don’t owe them anything.” 

She knew who he was referring to of course, of the people who had come to watch the new ‘upcoming star’ in action and were expecting to see quite the show. They were the people Aelin had been trained to want to impress. 

Aelin pulled back to tilt her chin up and look him in the eyes. 

“I can’t just quit, Rowan. I won’t.”

“You have nothing to prove, Fireheart.” And Aelin almost broke as he used the nickname her father had. “Not to anyone.” 

She shook her head, helplessness seeping through her body more and more as she looked at the boy in front of her. The pain in her ankle was even worse now. Unsurprisingly, he noticed, and his calloused hands moved to her wrists as he lead her back over to the bucket of ice water.

He kneeled down in front of the bench as she sat down and placed her foot in the water, wincing along with her even after she threw a glare at him.

I don’t see you with a foot in ice.

Seeing you in pain is enough to hurt me, his eyes gazed back playfully. Aelin rolled her eyes, quickly shutting them as another shock of pain rushed through her body, making her inhale sharply. 

Her boyfriend frowned once more, clearly upset he could do nothing to help her. So he gathered her hands in his own, bringing them to his face to place a gentle kiss on them, pulling an unwitting smile from Aelin. 

“I love you,” she said quietly. Rowan met her soft gaze for a moment before Aelin leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers in a kiss she hoped said everything she couldn’t. Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. I wish we weren’t a secret. 

“I love you too, Fireheart.” 

She would never get sick of hearing him say that. Of hearing the utter truth in his words. 

Rowan was watching her with that adoring look he reserved only for her, his face open so she could see every emotion playing across his face. It only made her want to kiss him again.

So she did, although this time he met her halfway, taking her chin lightly between two fingers and tilting it up so he could kiss her thoroughly as her hands rested at the base of his neck, lightly twirling the pieces of soft hair she found there.

They sat there for a while, simply kissing, enjoying the feeling of each other’s lips and proximity when it was so few and far between, and Aelin relished in the feeling of loving someone who loved her back. In the feeling of not having to act. 

When she accidentally tugged at a knot in his hair, Rowan pulled away with a painful groan and a nip to her bottom lip, causing Aelin to laugh and push his cheek away with two fingers.

“Sorry, Buzzard,” she laughed as Rowan stood up, with a playful glare. He folded his arms in front of him and it was only then that Aelin remembered she had a foot inside of a bucket of ice. And her medical time out was running out. “Shit. I have to go.” 

Aelin jumped into action, taking her foot out of the ice with a hiss and grabbing a towel as Rowan maneuvered himself around her to find her shoes and socks. Apparently he had understood her message loud and clear about her intentions on forfeiting the match or not- he wasn’t stupid enough to argue with her.

Quickly enough, Aelin was good as new- well, as new as she could be with a half swollen ankle.

“Well,” she dropped her arms to her sides and turned to her boyfriend. “How do I look?”

“Like an idiot who shouldn’t be playing.”

“Or…?” she arched a brow. Rowan sighed and stepped toward her, his hands bracing both of her arms as he leaned forward to press an earnest kiss to her forehead. 

“Or Terrasen’s champion,” he murmured against her skin. 

Aelin grinned, a wicked and feral smile that meant she was ready to raise hell.

“Now that’s more like it.” 

~~

If someone had asked Aelin to regale the crowd with details of her match after she had come out victorious, she would have been unable to do so. Because all she remembered was the pounding of her feet on the ground, and the neon color of the tennis ball, and the feeling of her heart palpitating in her chest. 

Oh, and of course she couldn’t forget the moment after her match- winning shot, when every care and inhibition had left her in one foul swoop. When she had sprinted over to the stands and thrown herself into the arms of the silver- haired enemy, delighting in his deep laughter.. 

And kissed him in the middle of the stadium for all to see.

~~

this prompt was: secret dating 

taglist:

@story-scribbler

@rowaelinismyotp

@live-the-fangirl-life

@claralady

@surielandiareendgame

[honeypiehotchner]

winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader

Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).

I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.

(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)

Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love). 

Word count: 9.4k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.

Like she’s doing now.

“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.

The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.

You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.

You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.

“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”

“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.

You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”

“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”

“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.

She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”

“You should go.”

You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”

“Why don’t you want to?”

You give her a look. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

She does. She knows exactly what happened there.

“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”

“So you do remember!”

“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”

You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”

You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.

+++

It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.

Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.

You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.

More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.

That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.

You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.

But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.

He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.

He was correct.

It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.

But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.

Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.

That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.

And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.

The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.

Until Aaron met Haley.

Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.

You watched your best friend fall in love.

And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.

You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.

Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.

Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).

How he thought he might want to marry her one day.

The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?

But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.

He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.

Then came the summer before his senior year.

It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.

June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.

July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.

Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?

But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.

Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.

You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.

You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.

The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.

You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.

You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.

+++

You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.

Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.

But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.

You need coffee.

You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.  

Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.

Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.

You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.

So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.

You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.

Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.

Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.

Maybe he won’t recognize me.

But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.

Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.

If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?

The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?

Who is he?

You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?

You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.

You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.

Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.

“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.

“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”

He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.

Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.

“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.

And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.

Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.

Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.

It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.

“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”

“You stole my question,” he jokes.

“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”

He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”

“The B-A-What?”

“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”

“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”

“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”

“We’re a team,” he offers.

“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”

You give him a look. “Of course I do.”

“It’s not great.”

“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”

“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”

“You what?”

He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”

“Intriguing.”

“I can’t believe you’re interested.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”

“I remember,” he says quietly.

And just like that, you remember, too.

It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.

“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”

“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”

“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”

“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”

It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”

You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.

“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”

“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”

“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”

“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”

“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”

“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”

“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.

Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.

“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”

He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”

A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.

You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”

You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.

Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.

“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.

“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”

“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.

And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”

“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”

“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”

You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”

“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.

But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free.”

He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”

“I was going to ask,” he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”

After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.

He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.

“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”

Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.

You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.

Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.

Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.

+++

After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.

But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.

He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.

You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.

You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.

In the end, your prediction was correct.

“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.

The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”

“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.

You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”

She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”

There it is.

“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”

“Oh, I knew that already.”

You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”

She grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”

“Did he seem angry when you asked?”

“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”

“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”

“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”

Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”

Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”

“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”

“Shut up.”

She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”

While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.

Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today

You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.

He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.

You try not to think too much about it.

+++

And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.

You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.

Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.

You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.

“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.

You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.

“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”

“Okay…”

You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”

Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”

Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.

“So it’s...a date, then?”

“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”

“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”

“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”

“Same difference.”

“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.

+++

You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.

“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.

You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.

That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”

“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”

“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”

“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”

“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”

“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”

You blink. “They do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”

“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”

“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”

He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”

“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.

But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.

“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”

Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”

You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”

Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”

You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.

“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”

“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.

Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.

+++

You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.

You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.

Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.

Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?

You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.

But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.

It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.

He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.

You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.

You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.

Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.

Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.

But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.

“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”

“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.

When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”

“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”

“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”

“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.

Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.

After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.

In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”

From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”

“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”

He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”

“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.

+++

After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.

You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.

“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”

Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”

“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”

He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”

“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”

“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”

Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”

You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.

The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.

“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.

You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”

“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.

“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.

The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.

“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.

“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.

“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”

“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.

“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”

The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.

“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”

“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”

“In-- Wow, okay.”

“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.

“I see that,” you chuckle.

Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”

“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you smile.

“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”

“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”

“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.

She nods. “Definitely.”

Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”

“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.

“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.

“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”

Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”

You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”

“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”

You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.

“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.

“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.

You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”

For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.

Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.

You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.

Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.

+++

After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.

You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.

You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.

The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.

“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”

Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.

“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”

You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”

“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”

Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”

“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”

You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.

“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.

Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”

You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.

It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.

The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.

You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.

Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.

He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.

Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.

Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.

“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”

He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.

He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.

You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.

You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”

You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.

You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”

Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”

“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”

This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”

“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”

Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”

“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”

“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”

“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”

“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”

You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.

“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”

“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”

You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”

“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”

“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.

And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.

His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.

From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.

[heartcal]

“who do you believe?”; l.h.

Disclaimer: i didn’t want to write sierra as a bad person because i personally cannot see that, and i know there’s some discourse about her within in the fandom but i don’t want any of that here! so i named the girlfriend after a girl who bullied me in elementary school lol (but another disclaimer: i do not want to see any hate towards the boys’ s/o! pls don’t send any asks that talks bad about them, i will not answer them!)

thank you for requesting! :^)

a/n: while transfering this from microsoft word, the formatting kept screwing up for some reason so if there are some janky paragraphs, i apologize! not too comfortable with this one compared to my previous fic (this feels rushed) but it is long and i did not mean for that to happen lol. enjoy!

if there are any mistakes, please tell me!

pairing(s): not really a mention of luke hemmings x reader but it’s mostly luke hemmings x named gf (rachel/oc) (gender neutral but if i slipped up, please let me know!)

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

genre: angst, and mostly angst >:^)

warnings: swearing, luke’s gf being mean, bullying?

wc: 4,057 (she’s a long one)

my masterlist!

You don’t know when it happened, or frankly how it happened, but one thing is for sure: you don’t want to feel this way.

Was it when he bought you a stuffed animal version of a pet you had as a kid, one that you remember so fondly and still tear up about it to this day? Or was it when he would always bring back a certain candy you can only find in its country of origin, and bring as much as customs would allow? Maybe it was when he printed out every photo he could find from the beginning of your friendship to the present day (at that time) and made a scrapbook for your birthday since you cherish memories?

Whatever memory it was, you want to track it down and destroy it. It wasn’t fair that you developed such strong feelings for your best friend, knowing he doesn’t feel the same since he’s taken.

It’s not that he isn’t attractive – far from that because if anything, you wish you could draw just so you can draw him because there’s no way someone can look that good – but it’s more of the fact that he’s your best friend, someone you hold dear to you.

You two grew up together; saw each other’s worst phases, styles, and embarrassing moments (it was well documented towards the middle of the scrapbook). He was with you when you went through bad break-ups, and you with him. Throughout school, you two were inseparable, and when the band got big he made sure to keep you close and to never lose contact. It was hard in the beginning but you two managed.

Now finished with college, you’ve taken on the role of working with the team when they’re on tour and helping plan aesthetics for the next album. He offered the jobs after you struggled to find a job after graduation, and in the end, you enjoyed being with the guys and doing the tasks needed.

Tonight, the band was set to play their new album to an intimate crowd. It was to welcome back old fans and welcome new fans, introducing both sides to a new sound they worked hard on. You couldn’t be any more proud.

You sat on the couch as the guys walked around the room, pepping themselves up and hyping each other. You had finished doing your tasks with the crew and spent your free time watching the band prepare as the audience began to fill in the theater seats.

A nudge on your arm makes you direct your eyes from Michael styling his hair with a nervous expression to the person on your left.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling at the curly-haired individual.

Luke shrugs, glancing around the room before his eyes land back on you. He has a small smile on his face as he leans back onto the couch, “Nothing.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a smile, “Yeah, sure, ‘nothing,’” you mimic, tilting your head to the side, “I doubt that.”

“What do you want me to say?”

You give him an incredulous look, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. You can tell he’s nervous, like the rest of the team and the band, but he won’t admit it. He’s always wanted others to view him as strong and unbothered, especially when those around him feel off.

He mirrors your position, a smirk on his lips because he knows you’re about to lecture him.

And he’s right.

“Your band has a new album out in a couple of days—an album you guys have worked hard on even when your management gave you shit, mind you—and you’re about to perform a majority of the songs in front of 500. Are you not nervous?”

He shakes his head, smugly smiling as he returns to his position leaning against the couch, watching Ashton dry the wet ends of his hair.

“Liar,” you mumble, uncrossing your arms and taking your phone out to check the time.

“Alright,” Luke sighs, giving in, “maybe I’m a little nervous, but I’m not a wreck.”

He’s still a liar. The success of their last album was astounding, so creating an album to reach that level and hopefully top it was hard enough. Playing it in front of an intimate crowd who may or may not like it was tough.

Luke isn’t cocky. He’s a humble man, but he likes to joke around in stressful situations. He’s used to concerts, so he doesn’t have any anxiety when it comes to performing. But when he is nervous for any reason, he won’t show it. He’ll act cool, completely collected with his head held high in confidence. If he needs to relieve the stress, he’ll either do it himself with a strong pep talk, or he’ll go to you.

“What are you nervous about?” You ask, wanting to make him feel better.

“Will they like it? Will it even chart? Is it too bold?” he continues listing out his insecurities about the album and the performance, finally lifting everything off his chest.

And you listen. The way his eyes stare into yours with slight confidence, covered by worry makes your heart sore. Luke’s kept everything inside and now that he’s listing his grievances, it makes you wonder just what else you can get out of him that he’s kept buried inside.

However, before you can give him your insight on this particular problem, “Luke!”

His head immediately turns to the door, the worry in his eyes fading out into sheer happiness and adoration. Something you’ve always wanted to see directed towards you.

Luke stands arms wide as he captures his girlfriend in his arms for a hug. Her arms wrap around his waist as his arms go around her shoulders, dipping his head down to kiss her on the head.

“I can’t believe you made it!” you hear him speak with excitement, expressing more words of happiness as he guides her to another part of the room.

You don’t miss the way her eyes glare in your direction, and you’re not afraid to give her a look back.

Rachel was nice when you met her. You actually liked her, despite your crush on Luke, and you were rooting for the two. But, a couple months ago during a stressful week, she turned on you. Her attitude towards you shifted, almost as if you had disrespected her and her bloodline. She would always act as if you weren’t in the room, and when plans were made with the boys, she would “accidentally” leave you out. It was embarrassing for you when you’d find out your friends went out, calling you to find out why you didn’t come. Due to the embarrassment, you would go along with it, making up some excuse as to why you were absent.

None of the boys, to your knowledge at least, have caught on to her antics, and you honestly hope they don’t. Whatever it is you did to her, you want to find out for yourself so you can fix it.

With a sigh, you stand from the couch, stretching your arms briefly before wandering to Calum, who stood in the shower room connected to the dressing room.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile.

He smiles back, finishing his drink before tossing the plastic cup in the trash. He grabs his bass, which was placed on the counter, and holds it out to you.

“You want me to see if it sounds out of tune?” you jokingly ask.

He nods, “Yeah, I feel like one of the chords might be flat.”

You chuckle as you pluck a random chord. His instruments are always tuned before it’s time to play. One of his pre-show nervous ticks was the constant doubt of his instruments being playable.

“It’s fine, Calum.”

The doubt shows on his face as he brings his guitar back to himself, putting it on and checking the chords himself, but it doesn’t last long as Ashton’s voice calls everyone to the center of the room.

Walking with Calum to where the rest of the crew was, you notice how attached Luke was to Rachel. Joint at the hip, arms wrapped around each other; it was annoying.

“Show starts in ten,” Ashton gains your attention, holding up a cup as Michael hands Calum a similar cup before doing the same to Luke. The three follow the drummer’s action as he continues, “let’s make this show fuckin’ awesome.”

The crew cheers, dying down quickly as Michael gives his thoughts, “We worked our asses off for this album, I don’t have any doubts about it. We got this, guys!”

The cheers resume as those with a drink take a celebratory sip before placing their empty cup on a surface near them.

Calum leaves your side to join Michael while Ashton heads to you.

“You excited?” he asks, putting his right arm around your shoulders with a large smile.

“Yeah!” you return the smile, “What about you? Nervous like the others?”

He shakes his head, crinkling his nose, “I’m not too nervous. I’m just happy to play again.”

You’re about to ask him what song he was the most excited to play, starting to get into the conversation but yet again you are interrupted by Rachel.

“Hey, Ash,” she greets him, Luke following close behind her as his arms make their way back around her shoulders again.

“Hi, Rachel,” Ashton nods his head at her – his eyes dance to Luke briefly before returning to Rachel’s, “didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Couldn’t miss your big show,” she smiles, looking up at her boyfriend as she pats his stomach.

Luke laughs, gently pushing her hand away from him, “I’m surprised, too—“ he grabs the guitar a crew member hands him, left arm lifting itself from Rachel’s shoulder as he slips the strap over his head, “—because her schedule did not look clear enough, but here she is.”

“Three minutes,” a different crew member rushes out, patting Luke and Ashton’s shoulders before rushing to tell the others.

“See you after,” Luke shifts his guitar away from Rachel before leaning down to kiss her on the lips – something you wish you didn’t see – and turning around to head out of the dressing room.

Ashton gives you a quick hug, “Excited for the lights,” he mumbles in your ear before turning to Rachel to give her a side hug.

It doesn’t go unnoticed how Rachel’s eyes glared at you by Ashton, but he doesn’t mention it as he heads out with the other guys towards the stage.

As a majority of the crew follow them out, you stay behind to clean up the empty cups and other trash, trying to occupy yourself as Rachel too stayed behind.

Her eyes followed you as you moved about the room, carrying the small plastic bag with you as it fills up with cups and wrappers. You could feel the glare burning into your side and back as you paid her no mind.

When it was just you two left, the bass from their opening song was heard and felt as you finished picking up the garbage.

“For how long have you liked Luke?”

You froze. Your head whipped towards Rachel, wide-eyed as you glanced around the room to make sure it was just the two of you.

“What…what are you talking about?” You can feel an extreme warmth rising up from the bottom of your back, all the way to your face, nervousness clouding your brain as she stares you down.

“Luke—,” she crosses her arms and moves to the couch, “how long have you liked Luke?”

“I don’t—I,” you stutter, your stomach dropping as you realize you’ve been caught.

His girlfriend knows you like him.

“Cut the bullshit,” she spits, “I can see it. You’ve been friends with him for years, you obviously caught feelings for him.”

You shake your head, standing up straight to give off the illusion of confidence. Turning your back to her and towards the door, “I don’t have to talk to you.”

You opted for walking out of the dressing room and go watch the band from the side of the stage, but you made a quick stop in the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

You did what you could to avoid her during their performance. You knew she was watching you, seething at how you ended the conversation so fast.

Rachel wanted to break you down, find the reason why you like him and separate you two for as long as it takes to make him fall in love with her. She finds you a problem in their relationship because of how close you and Luke are, because of how long you’ve known each other. A threat to her and her relationship.

An hour and a half later, the show is finished and the whoops and cheers from the crowd indicate the album was very well received. That thought swept the interaction with Rachel from earlier under the rug as the boys’ adrenaline spread throughout the crew.

Ashton was first to greet you, sweaty and ready to envelop you in a hug but you’re quick to avoid it, ducking down just as his arms closed around the space where your head was. He laughs it off, heading for his next victim.

Next was Calum, who grabbed a drink from Andy and gulped it down. He had a smile on his face after, only growing wider when he saw you. “I think they liked it!”

“Bass in tune, huh?” you return, patting his back as he passes you to go to the next person.

Michael is the third, taking off his hat (which made you question why he was so worried about his hairstyle that he spent at least fifteen minutes playing with before the show). He stops in front of you, phone in hand as he takes a picture of the two of you: a tradition he started a few tours ago as a joke.

Finally, Luke makes his way towards you, ready to ramble about the show but is brisked away by Rachel. He doesn’t even glance over at you after he’s taken away towards the hall.

Entering the dressing room where the rest of the boys sat, you saw Michael talking animatedly on the phone, Calum laying across the couch with an arm over his eyes, and Ashton wiping off excess sweat with a towel. He was the first one to notice you.

“Ready for that hug?” he asks as you approach him.

“Why not.”

You hug each other, smiling as you pulled away. In the distance, over the cool-down music, you hear Luke’s laughter in the hall. Knowing he’s with Rachel makes you wonder if she’s told him about her suspicions, and that thought alone makes you clam up all over again.

Ashton immediately notices, tilting his head as he asks you what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” you quickly reply, eyes focusing on him.

He notices how jittery you seem, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he says nothing.

“Guys,” Andy comes in with his camera in hand, “we need to take a few photos.”

The three agree and follow the photographer out. You move to the snack table for a bottle of water, but before you can take a sip, someone clears their throat in the doorway.

You roll your eyes immediately because you know who it is. You don’t pay her any attention and instead take the sip of water you need.

“We need to finish that conversation you oh-so rudely ended,” Rachel moves into the room, keeping her voice down as she crosses her arms.

“We don’t need to finish anything.”

She scoffs, “I asked you a question, and you were so quick to avoid it. I think you’re proving a point.”

“What point?” you turn to look at her, “I know you don’t like me but I don’t know why, can we start with that?”

“Like I said before, I know you like Luke. He’s my boyfriend, and I don’t like how he’s close to you.”

“We grew up together,” you state, standing tall as you glare at her, “of course we’re going to be close.”

“Well I don’t like it,” she huffs.

You shake your head with a sigh, closing the lid to the bottle as you turn your back to her. You were getting angry at the fact that someone who didn’t know Luke as long as you did was hinting that you should stay away from him.

“Stop hanging out with him.”

A curt laugh escapes you before you can stop it, “Are you jealous of our friendship?”

“No,” she smirks, “but I know you’re jealous of our relationship.”

She’s right; you’re only a little jealous of their relationship, but it’s not something you want to risk your friendship with.

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but you’re caught off-guard when nothing comes out. The one opportunity to make her believe you don’t like her boyfriend and you can’t say anything.

Giving up with sinking shoulders, you glance at the door before looking back at her. Grimacing at her knowing smile, “How did you find out?”

She hums, “It was easy. I love him, so I know what it looks like to look at someone you love. You made it so obvious, I’m surprised no one else found out!”

You grit your teeth. You did your damn best to make sure no one, especially Luke or Rachel, know how you feel about him.

“I’m not intimidated by you,” she walks closer to you, arms uncrossing as her hands move to her hips, “but I won’t deny the fact that you and Luke have chemistry.”

“What will it take—” you place the bottle back on the table, “—for you to leave me alone?”

“Do the same to him.”

“What?”

“Leave him alone, unfriend him,” she shrugs, “simple as that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you walk around her to the door, ready to end the conversation.

“Do that or I’ll tell him,” with a harsh tone she walks towards you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” another voice from the doorway makes the two of you jump, “that’s enough.”

Ashton walks into the room, grabbing Rachel’s hand and removing it from your arm.

“W—” she stutters out as she watches the tall man move to stand in front of you.

“I came back for my drumsticks—” his eyes shift to the object sticking out of his bag before dropping down to Rachel, “—but instead I find you, what, threatening a good friend of ours?”

Rachel is speechless while you’re frozen. It was embarrassing enough for one person to find out about your crush on Luke, but now Ashton might know and you want to go into hiding.

“Let it go,” you tug on Ashton’s shirt to get his attention but he doesn’t move.

“Telling someone who’s known your boyfriend longer than your relationship to just abandon him is low, Rachel. Don’t think the way you’ve been treating our friends has gone unnoticed.”

You hear more footsteps approaching the room, and now you wish the ground can swallow you up. You don’t want all this attention on you.

“What’s happening here?” Michael says as he peeks into the room, Luke behind him as Calum leans against the other side of the doorway.

“Nothing—,” Rachel tries to deflect but with four pairs of eyes on her, it becomes too much. Tears start pouring out, and you’re in disbelief.

How can she be the one crying after she was the one who was rude to you?

Luke immediately rushes in, creating a beeline right to her side to wrap her in his arms.

His eyes dart to yours, an emotion on his face of something you’ve never seen, but you know it’s not good.

“What did you do?”

You’re taken back by his tone and the way his angry eyes stare you down. It hurts because instead of staying neutral and finding out what exactly happened, he immediately chose a side: a side of someone he’s known for only for a short amount of time.

“Mate,” Ashton speaks up for you, “I think you’re asking the wrong person that.”

“No,” Luke’s voice raises, eyes moving from yours to stare into his band mate’s, “I’m asking the right person.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes welling with tears as the weight of everything happening within the last ten minutes starts to bring you down. Your eyes move away from the ones boring into yours, and with a tremble in your voice, “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one who started—.”

“Bullshit!” Luke’s roar cuts you off, “Absolute bullshit, because if she started it, then why is she the only one crying?!”

The two other guys move in to the room to mediate the situation.

“Luke, calm down,” Michael’s hands raise to the motion of ‘calm down’ as he tries to get Luke’s attention.

“There’s gotta be more to the story,” Calum moves to your side, checking on you briefly.

“Don’t,” Luke states as he watches Calum grab your shoulders to move you out of the room.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Ashton questions. He watches Luke soothingly rub Rachel’s back, wiping her tears with his free hand.

“My girlfriend is crying and you two were the only ones in here,” Luke replies, gently grabbing Rachel’s arms so he can look directly into her eyes, “what happened, babe?”

“I asked them—,” Rachel sniffles, continuing her façade, “—if they needed any help cleaning the room earlier and they yelled at—at me and told me to go away. Then after the show when you guys went for your photos, I came here to apologize to her, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She was selling it; the tears, the sniffling, the stutters, and hiccups. A great actress who knows what she wants.

“That’s not true,” you inhale, your ears feeling warm and ringing, “she has had a problem with me lately and I don’t know why!”

Luke scoffs, shaking his head, wrapping Rachel in his arms again.

“C’mon,” Michael mumbles, wanting to leave the room.

Ashton turns around, watching your face go from pleading to blank as the tears fall from your eyes. He turns his head to face Luke, “You’re unbelievable,” he grabs your shoulders and starts to move you out of the room, “let’s go.”

Michael is already out of the room, the tension too much for him and ruining the after-show vibe. Calum is waiting by the door ready to help lead you out. Ashton has you turned around, pushing you towards the door.

“Wait, Luke,” you mumble, getting out of Ashton’s hold and turning back to face Luke.

He doesn’t look at you, sighing as he rubs Rachel’s head as it’s against his chest.

“Please,” you plead, begging him to look at you and when he does, you ask, “who do you believe?”

“What?”

“Who do you believe, Luke,” you gulp with a sniffle, “me or her?”

For a moment, you think you see hesitation. His jaw tenses as he stares you down, his best friend for years and someone he turned to when times got tough. He then looks down at the girl in his arms, someone he loves crying into his chest.

He sighs again, this time soft, before looking up to meet your eyes. He does notice the tears, the pain etched on your face as his other best friends watch them. “I believe Rachel.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Ashton mutters as he gently grabs your shoulders again to lead you out of the room.

You let the tears fall freely, not meeting any of the boys’ eyes as you kept your head face down.

You’ve lost your best friend. He chose someone else over you, a lie he chose to believe.

Whatever it was that made you catch feelings for your best friend, you wish you can find it and destroy it, along with any other memory you’ve made with him. After tonight, you want him erased from your cherished memories.

---

part two!

[junhuiste]

twice twice baby (preview)

pairing: jake x gn reader x sunghoon

word count: 2200

tags/warnings: fluff, slight angst, college!au, hockey player!jake, ice skater!sunghoon, sports med assistant!reader, slowburn, mutual pining, cursing, slightly suggestive scenes

a/n: this is just a preview of the bigger piece i plan to publish much later, so it pretty much only has jake, sorry hoonists! also gonna address it here while we’re at it, but i wanna apologize to everyone who sent requests in! i have them all plotted, most drafted and written, but i didn’t realize when i moved back home how busy i would be with work, summer classes, and looking for an apartment! i will have them published before the end of summer though! this piece is coming out before only because i wrote it well before finals week lol

taglist: please let me know if you wanna be part of the taglist!

Being in a parallelogram (or was it a dodecagon? A triangle? whatever) with the two notorious ‘Ice Hotties’ at your college, Jake Sim, the captain of the hockey team, and Park Sunghoon, the world class figure skater, is easy. Geometry isn’t that complicated...right?

As you entered into the arena, a cold blast of air struck, prompting you to jump slightly in your tracks, cursing that it was men’s hockey season and not basketball anymore. Albeit arms shivering, knees wobbling, and barely being able to make any strides at all, you weren’t distraught and to some extent trembling because of the ice rink or the ice packs inside the pouch seemingly glued to your waist, or hell, even the unnecessary air conditioner giving its all. Really, did they need to keep that fucking thing on when it was already polar-arctic-adjacent inside the arena? Probably to keep the rink from oozing into water and having Atlantis actually come to fruition...whatever, fuck the cold!

“Y/N, let’s get on it. We’re a bit late.” The head athletic trainer indicated, speed-walking a little too quickly for your liking, but what were you to do when your chest was heaving upon arrival at the ice center? Suck it up? Collapse and crawl into a ball?

Nodding, even though she was practically scurrying and leaving your curtailing ass in the dust, you heightened your pace despite the fact that your legs were about to give out at any second. Weren’t cold spaces supposed to make a solid more rigid, not turn your legs to jelly?

The both of you finally reached the area where the players were situated to greet the head and assistant hockey coaches.

“This is Y/N,” your trainer (whom insisted you just skip the formalities and call her Mina) motioned to you, slightly yet noticeably panting, “a first year, but they’ve done men’s basketball, women’s soccer and some gymnastics last semester. They know their stuff!”

“Wouldn’t doubt it.” The head coach reaches out to grip your hand firmly.

“Pleasure to meet y—“ once more today you jump, this time not shaken by the frozen tundra or by the vehemently boisterous buzzer, though it was much more thundering than the buzzer at the basketball court for some reason, but by the announcers cheering, “first year, number three, co-Captain, Jake Sim!”

And the crowd? They didn’t just go wild, no, they were literally cacophonous, the ground beneath and the arena stands rumbling, practically rivaling the San Andreas fault. Craning your neck to look around the oval shaped space and just how many students from your school, clad in university regalia, were present to see guys battle it out with plastic sticks on frozen water, even that, the entire scene wasn’t what had your heart nearly palpitating out of your chest.

First year, number three, co-Captain, Jake Sim. Now that was enough to warrant a blood pressure monitor...and possibly a defibrillator.

Almost giving yourself whiplash from turning around too quickly, it was hard not to gape at the boy coasting across the ice, waving at the all too excited crowd. And even through his helmet and from across the rink, you could make out his dark, glimmering irises, like how the sun’s edges would peak through from behind during an eclipse. It was kind of charmingly sickening actually, that someone could be as radiant as he was, under all the bulky gear, even despite the temperature. It wasn’t convenient actually that it had to be men’s hockey this time, that you, as the athletic trainer’s sports medicine intern had to attend the games for. Yeah, it was for credits. Sure, it was for intern experience...but what was the point if you only expected to make a fool out of yourself trying to tend to Jake and his teammates’ possible injuries?

It wasn’t fair, actually, that you were hopelessly in like with Jake Sim and that he didn’t even know your name when you were in the same physics class. To be fair though, it was a class of about 400, an infamous weeder course that crushed the poor souls of innocent underclassmen, so to have him direct any sort of attention your way, even a mere glimpse, would be laughable. That was what happened when you sat in the back, though.

Of course it just had to be Jake Sim that completely bewitched you, and he didn’t have to twirl any fingers or fixate any potions to have you just so damn spellbound. All he had to do was show up to freshman orientation with that stupid inviting grin of his, and that dumb glint in his eye that no one else seemed to possess. No, of course he just had to show up and be almost too cordial to everyone in your orientation group, even though all the other students, including you, could not give a single damn about the campus tour. And yes, of course, he just had to have the masses absolutely enamored with him, both upper and underclassmen alike.

Consider all of that, with Jake’s insane schedule, not that you knew anything specific, just that he had games on Tuesdays and Thursdays, coupled with daily practices, but you were only privy to that information because Mina always gave you the athletic teams’ agendas for the month. So yes, trying to garner any attention from Jake was like floating right smack in the middle of the Pacific, sending some sort of signal through a marine radio, and getting no response back. Not a hint that anyone was coming. No helicopters whirring above, no boats sent out ashore. What would he want to do with the first-aid kid, the person that sat in the back, the person that was paying attention to something else at the moment, and not the fact that they had to observe players carefully for potential injuries?

Well, sorry to Jake’s teammates and Mina, but you just couldn’t pry your eyes off of number three. How he skated in such an agile manner while simultaneously defending assertively was certainly an image now seared into your mind. The way he commanded the court was just so—“You paying attention? Are you okay today?” Mina snapped you out of your nonsensical trance.

“Yeah, yeah of course! Always on my toes like you said...” your eyes told a different story, and deceived you at that.

“And there’s number three, Sim, with the first goal!”

Jake skated backwards to high five his teammates and to prepare to defend, and it was definitely a sight to see him so animated, feeling right where he should be in his domain.

“Ah, I see. Number three is it? I heard he’s a beast on the ice,” Mina nudged and winked slyly at you, “anyway, pay attention ‘cause if your little ice boy gets hurt you know we gotta move quickly.”

It was already enough to have your friends taunt you about your silly adolescent infatuation with Jake, now to have your mentor in on it too? Mina was right though, you were here to wrap ankles and tend to bruised hips, not ogle at the team captain.

“Gotcha. On my toes!” you winked back at her, semi-ready to do your job. If you could predict injuries before they even happened during the basketball and soccer games you should be more than capable of caring for the hockey players. Whipping your head around to finally and legitimately focus on the members, you really wished you hadn’t.

There he was, number three, adept and dodging the defensive players, with the puck sliding in tandem with his stick. Then, it happened all too quickly, in a tenth of a second, too much for everyone spectating to comprehend.

BAM.

Suddenly, Jake was on his back after he and the opposing player too combatively collided into each other. You blinked once and now he was supine on ice, clutching a leg to his chest. His teammates and the referees hastily surrounded him, but you could not watch anymore, you had to do what you were here for.

Running past both the coaches, lamenting what the hells and go go go! at Mina, you dashed to the edge of the rink, about to enter and slip on the ice, but stopped yourself, because you didn’t have skates on. Fuck. Mina and you always ran to the scene of the injury, and you’d only dealt with hardwood floors and grass fields, but never ice. There was no reason for you to just stand around though, as Jake was being lifted by the referees. As much as you wanted to glue your eyes to the catastrophe, you sprinted to the locker room to fetch the cooler.

“Everyone, move!” You shouted at the towering players standing in your way. Setting the cooler on the floor, you directed some of them to assemble a few of the chairs they were sitting on for a makeshift cot for Jake to rest his leg on. Nervously yet rapidly, you dug into your backpack for a splint, pre-wrap, and medical tape.

When you stood back up, Jake and the referees were at the rink’s entrance, with Mina extending her arms to steady him once he transitioned from ice to linoleum. And through all this he maintained the same tender-hearted curve on his face, beaming at Mina and thanking the referees.

One of Jake’s coaches and Mina propped Jake around their shoulders as he hopped on one foot to your nearby station. Assisting them in getting Jake to sit down, you were shaking slightly out of feverishness and hormones, even though it was the perfect temperature for snowfall, but forming a resistance to doing that was almost impossible.

Christ, you weren’t like this when Taehyun tore his ligament last semester at the basketball semi-finals, or when Yuna sprained her toe out on the field, yet it was due to that certain someone that you just could not find it within you to operate as you usually did. It was imperative that you got out of your own head; Jake was merely another athlete you had to tend to and someone you, quite frankly, had to get over, like now.

Once Jake was seated with his right leg propped up on the opposite chair, he took his helmet off and handed it to his coach standing guard next to him.

“Mina, you guys got this?” The coach hesitantly asked your trainer.

“Absolutely nothing to worry about, Coach Kim! We’ve seen worse than this; we’re good, right Y/N?”

You gave Coach Kim a measly thumbs up and he rushed to get back to the rest of the team to continue with the game, deliberating who would substitute in now that their best player was on the sidelines.

While Mina undid Jake’s skates and kneepads, you assessed him before you could get started, asking him what kind of pain he had in his leg, how much it hurt on a scale of 1-10, and if he could wiggle his toes.

Sharp and kind of aching, I think. 8.5-ish, actually maybe just 8. Toes wiggling.

“Um, okay. Good that your toes are still intact, which means you’re gonna be okay, but is there any other part of your body that hurts?” You tried not to sound like a complete buffoon, trying to enunciate your words properly like you did with several other injured athletes; Jake shouldn’t have been any different. He was, though.

“Yeah, I feel like there’s a bruise on the right side of my body somewhere,” he said, motioning to his abdomen.

“Okay...I’m gonna take your shoulder pads off and you have to take your jersey off so we can ice it, is that cool with you?” Your brain was bouncing off the walls at the mention of “take” and “off”. Come on, this wasn’t fucking NASA, although it might as well have been, as he was a universe and a half to you (in a melodramatic way of sorts).

“Yeah, yeah—for sure. Thanks.” Jake flashed an acknowledging smile, to which your cheeks heated up at. There was an injured boy in front of you—no time for shits and giggles and teenage elation.

As you aided Jake in removing his shoulder pads and jersey, he winced a bit, while trying to hide it at the same time. 

“Are you good? I’ll get some ice on that soon, I promise.” You gradually eased into your ‘medic’ mode, trying to expel as much of your nerves as humanly possible.

“Yeah I’m okay, just hurts a bit. Thanks again,” he could not stop giving you that demure yet brazen demeanor, and to be around a smiling Jake meant a tense you, regardless if your subconscious plan to initiate Nerves Exodus was kind of working.

When Mina stood up, all finished with undoing his skates and knee pads, she asked Jake to repeat what he stated about his pain earlier to you back to her. Before walking to where the coaches and other players were, she chaffed at you, with a mischievous lilt to her words, “you can handle it from here right? The star player’s in your hands.”

Audibly, you ‘mhmmed’ her, and when you were out of Jake’s sight, rolled your eyes, making sure she noticed that. You were glad though, that Mina was your trainer and not some old, stern fart like she had when she interned in your same position; it made for much more “effective” mentoring and communication, especially because she left you alone with the athletes, so you were able to think of what to do next for yourself, and if there were ever any mistakes—which there were none of to date—she would help you work through them.

Holy shit, Mina left. It was just you and Jake.

[ladyartemesia]

Yooo your love story straight out seems like an e2l slow burn tumblr fic. Do you have any plans using at as a plot?? I would def read it 👀

I don’t know if I would truly call it enemies-to-lovers because—although I got irritated with him and his behavior and did snap at him from time to time—we were not really enemies. In fact we were barely friends for most of the years we knew each other—

Well.

Ok. So that’s not totally true...

We fought online constantly. From the time we graduated college (where his crush first developed and I routinely forgot his name) the two of us were always fighting on social media—usually about politics—and occasionally about other things but both of us were too smart to ever truly get the better of each other so there was a grudging respect, (his mom said he used to yell at his computer screen about me). We had it OUT several times online even though we rarely—if ever—spoke in person.

My poor sweet boy DID get himself in trouble over me in more ways than one though—even if we’re weren’t close yet...

His college girlfriend set him up to fail asked him who he would date if the two of them weren’t together and he answered immediately—vehemently—

“Viola. I would definitely date Viola if I could.”

🤦🏻‍♀️ (oh...honey...no)

(That would become a huge THING in their relationship. Every time they got into a fight his ex would shout “why don’t you just go date VIOLA then?!”—When he married me he said he felt like a real winner in that particular collection of conflicts. Playing the long game I guess 🤣😂)

Back then I was all about the music/dramatic arts scene and I was dating a string of empty headed pretty boys who bored me nigh unto death because I was young and completely stupid.

In contrast my someday-boo was painfully quiet and shy (though not really with me because he was too busy trying to prove me wrong), but everyone who met him or spoke to him really liked him and respected him.

After college we were were still in the same extended social circle (and—as previously mentioned—fighting online), but I went to grad school and my not-yet-husband decided to chill for awhile and take a job as a landscaper while he figured his life out and... here’s where it gets complicated because...

—that’s where the girls came in. You see... he’s always been a really nice guy... maybe a little too nice 🤦🏻‍♀️

The term fuqboi tends to conjure up impressions of a cocky frat bro who slyly shags his way through a mountain of willing women with disconnected efficiency and a subtext of emotional constipation.

But that would not be the case here.

You see my husband is a listener. He’s an INFP. He, unlike many of his brethren, understands emotions and can really make a woman feel seen. Combine that with his good looks, brilliant mind, and broody nerditude and you have a recipe for women who were ‘just friends’ randomly dropping to their knees (and a lot more) for him.

Never one to stand in the way of a lady’s dreams, pre-me-hubby figured that if they were that determined to (*insert miscellaneous sexy stuff here*) with him then—well—he’d let them.

I mean why not, right? No harm done.

Wrong. 🤬

And here is where our paths truly began to merge (in the real world) for the first time.

As the FOURTH girl (just in my friend group) he graciously allowed (🤦🏻‍♀️) to have her wicked way with him sobbed in my arms, I became determined to put this ridiculous man-child IN his PLACE—this time in the tactile world as well as the virtual one.

...Poor Liz

She realized that he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to be in a relationship with anything other than his WoW account and she was insistent that he had broken her heart.

So I cornered him and we had it out. (Call me meddlesome, but to be fair he was four friends deep at this point.)

The problem was that... the more I talked to him...the more he was not really what I expected... I found myself...oddly...intrigued?

Later it would come out that I was the first girl—ever—that he actually pursued. And I was not even aware of it for like the first three months.

He was pretty slick after all when it came down to it.

That man convinced me to ‘help him’ with women—to make sure he didn’t get himself into another situation where some girl with heart eyes was tearing off his clothes and expecting commitment.

HE ASKED ME TO BE HIS ‘EXCUSE.’

🤦🏻‍♀️(...I know. I’m an idiot.)

“We can hang out. You’ll teach me how to spot if a girl is about to catch feelings and take off my pants. And I will have an excuse when they call as to why we can’t hang out” (—and ...they really were always calling. It was wild.)

....I mean he WAS shy! It SEEMED plausible!

So yeah my dim self agreed to it. (🤦🏻‍♀️)

I considered it a valiant attempt to save the rest of my social circle from the most clueless ‘accidental’ fuqboi on planet earth and maybe even an opportunity to teach him how to be a real human being and what not.

And before you think ‘fake dating’—we weren’t. We were just hanging out as friends. You see when I went to yell at him (and chased him down after he laughed at me and tried to escape) we ended up talking in his car for like four hours. And then that happened like three more times randomly so... I... actually... wanted... to be his friend... 🤷🏻‍♀️

I was still 110% not interested romantically.

Your girl (me) was after some bland banker dude (🤦🏻‍♀️) and so I blissfully fell into friendship with my actual soulmate without a single second thought. And I never worried about either of us catching feelings because I had a crush on someone else and he had heavily implied that I was not his type. (He told me later that I just assumed this and he simply never corrected me 🙄)

I don’t remember falling for him. I never decided to. I never thought about it...

But one day after the whole crew was hanging out at a restaurant (and the waiter kept giving me free drinks which may have pissed my once-and-future man off) the two of us went out to his car to have our customary three hour post-chill chat...

I was teasing him about something—some girl he was still attempting to untangle himself from—and I said—as had become my habit (seriously I said this so many times as a joke)—“It’s too bad I’m not your type—you could just tell her you have a girlfriend.”

(Now. I know what you’re thinking. But I was still firmly on team platonic ok! I was just a flirt. And maybe part of me was starting to feel weird things about him—but those feelings weren’t like anything I recognized so I thought I just needed to cut back on sugar or something.)

(Have I mentioned I’m an idiot?)

ANYWAYS he looked me right in the eye. So serious. And instead of saying “that’s too bad”—LIKE he ALWAYS did—he said—

“You...are my type, Viola... You’re exactly my type.”

To which I responded—“....What? No I’m not. You said I wasn’t.”

“Never said that. You assumed.”

“You LET me!”

—followed by a good ten minutes of me having an existential crisis/yelling at him for allowing me to believe he didn’t find me attractive and lulling me into a false sense of security. He was infuriatingly unapologetic.

At the end of it all he asked me to give him—give us—a chance.

And I agreed to go out on a few dates with him (mostly to prove to myself that there was nothing there).

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

The only thing I ended up proving was that I was wrong about what I wanted and even more wrong about what I needed.

You see...

Those weird feelings turned out to be love.

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

And it was a really special experience to sit in a room full of girls who had cried in my arms over him—girls I had lectured repeatedly on the dangers of his heartless ways— and admit that I was his girlfriend.

🤦🏻‍♀️

Love was—and continues to be—nothing like I expected and frankly I couldn’t be happier.

... to answer your questions

1. I have considered writing a fic based on our story called Broken Road. The title is taken from an old Rascal Flatts song that—as insanely cheesy as it is—really reminds me of us. Don’t know if I will actually write this. Thought about it a lot though.

2. Tags I would use for this story?

#enemies-to-lovers / #idiots-to-lovers / #college au / #outgoing!fem reader(me) x shy nerd!accidental fuqboi / #reader is also a huge nerd actually / #she’s just a loud one / #frenemies-to-lovers / #the love is requited / #they’re just idiots / #pining (his) / denial (mine) / #reader has terrible taste in men / #except for that last one / #she really redeemed herself there at the end