#which is fine the game is over ten years old

[master-gatherer]

.

[roanofarcc]

LIKE MOTHER LIKE FATHER LIKE DAUGHTER

pairing. tyler owens x harding!reader - part 2!

summary. you had made a name for yourself in the storm chasing game; it was in your genes, being the daughter of famous chasers jo and bill harding. tyler found your knacked for knowing just what the storm’s thinking a little infuriating and incredibly impressive.

 warnings. fem!reader, reader gets injured, mentions of blood and injuries, probably inaccurate meteorological info & medical info, angst & fluff, some hurt/comfort on this fine Tuesday night.

word count. 3.7k || masterlist

a/n. twister has been my favorite movie FOREVER so here's a little homage to the og storm chasers <3

You were ten when you went storm chasing for the first time. Growing up, you’d heard your parents' stories every time there was a shift in the weather. Instead of the typical childhood fear of storms, you had always been fascinated by them; your dad, Bill Harding often joked it was in your genes, the lack of fear. With some light convincing of your mom, Dr. Jo Haring, she agreed to take you storm chasing for your tenth birthday. 

The twister had been small, barely an EF1, but it was wondrous. There was something dangerously beautiful about it that drew you in just as it had your parents when they were younger. From that point on, you knew you wanted to be just like them, chasing storms up and down Tornado Alley. 

And with the stubbornness passed down by your mom, that is exactly what you did. You were damn good at it to. 

“It’s lookin’ like a big one to the southeast,” a member of your team said, slugging an arm around your shoulder as she looked up at the sky, squinting slightly at the sun. “But the radar says we’ve got another brewin’ west. She's pickin’ up speed but it’s still developing.” 

You hummed in response, gazing up at the sky too, judging which one was your best bet by observing the clouds in either direction. “Let’s hang back and go for the one to the west, I like her chances better.” Your teammate, Frankie, grinned as she nodded and headed off toward the other three members of your small, but mighty team. 

As you waited for the storm to flesh out a little more, you sat on the bed of your truck, dangling your legs off of the tailgate. The fresh air filled your lungs and the faint smell of incoming rain brought a smile to your lips. Every time you got ready for a chase, you felt ten years old again, giddy and excited for the thrill of the storm. You thought back to the photo albums you’d looked at a hundred times over of your parents and their numerous storm-chasing adventures. They never pushed you into storm chasing, as it was a dangerous line of work, but from a very young age, it was clear that your fascination with storms wouldn’t be quelled with a simple meteorology degree and a job behind a desk. 

Storm chasing was in your blood, and your knack for it was known among other storm chasers. 

“Well, if it isn’t the doctor herself,” a familiar voice filled your ears, belonging to the one and only Tyler Owens. He approached your truck, hands on his hips and a certain cockiness that excited you. You liked a challenge, and you loved showing cowboys up. Tyler was good at what he did, but you were just a little bit better, and it both irritated and impressed him. 

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” you said, earning a light chuckle from him. 

“You don’t look in a hurry. That storm to the southeast won’t last forever.” You shrugged and he narrowed his gaze just slightly. “You’re not going after that one, are you?” 

“Damn,” you sighed. “You’re getting harder to trick, Owens.”

He laughed, light and sweet. It was easy to see how he garnered such a large online audience. Tyler was easy on the eyes, drove straight into tornados with a grin on his lips, and had the knowledge of storms to back up his insane behavior. You’d never admit it aloud, but he did impress you, even if you thought some of his actions were reckless even for a storm chaser.

The two of you had an interesting rapport. It toes the line between rivals and friends, the odd territory in between. You loved teasing him, and he tried to outsmart you even if it never worked. 

“Maybe you’re getting too predictable,” he said, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“Och.” You faked hurt, placing a hand over your heart. “What is it you always say? If you feel it, chase it. If you think the one to the southeast is gonna show her face, go for it.” 

Tyler studied you for a moment, contemplating what kind of game you were playing with him. All you did was smile at him in return, which led him to roll his eyes. “Unfortunately, you’re rarely wrong,” he sighed. 

“It’s a blessing and curse.” 

“You’re impossible,” he said. “But the west it is. It better not let me down, Dr. Harding.” You only used that title in more professional settings. That had been a condition of your mother. She had gotten her PhD and believed you could too. It was tough, but you earned it; only, you didn’t expect some cowboy to use it to lightly mock you when you proved him wrong.

“You have my word,” you said. 

And you were right. The storm to the west produced a beautiful tornado. You and Frankie got close while the rest of your team hung back. Rain pelted the windshield as you grew closer, watching the dark funnel tear through the expanse of fields, picking up speed on the ground. Somewhere along the way, Tyler’s unmistakable red truck ripped past you, heading into the heart of the twister, which you rolled your eyes at. 

“She’s a beauty!” Frankie hollered, holding her camera at the ready. 

It was a great chase, but the thing about tornados that was both thrilling and dangerous was their unpredictability. You knew the storm would be big, and the closer you grew the more power you saw that it had. The other truck carrying the rest of your team had communicated the growing intensity of the storm via the radio. But it looked to be on a steady path west, so you saw no issue tailing it while Frankie snapped pictures.

The rain only grew heavier and heavier, almost completely obstructing your view. It wasn’t until a tree crash landed directly in the middle of the road did you realize the tornado had changed directions suddenly. A startled scream torn from Frankie lips and you slammed on the breaks, narrowly missing the tree. 

“Holy shit,” she whispered, leaning up against the dash and trying to see through the rain wrap. “It’s right there. It’s right there! We gotta go!” 

You quickly threw your truck in reverse and backed up, but you didn’t get far. A lone semi that had been traveling skidded to a stop just a couple hundred feet behind you. The way they had stopped at the sight of the tornado left its trailer sideways across the road before it was abandoned by the figure hunkering down in the ditch that lined the backroad. 

You hissed under your breath, trapped between two objects and a tornado that shook your truck. There wasn’t enough space to fly around the semi. The ditches on either side of the road were too deep to take quickly and another minute trying to maneuver around the semi would only lead to your truck getting swallowed by the storm, picked up, and tossed around like a rag doll. 

Your parents had prepared you for a kind of situation like that, but that didn’t shake your panic. With a rapidly beating heart, you put the truck in park and yelled at Frankie to get out. You both stepped out into the storm as the tornado loomed closer and closer. Wind whipped all around you along with debris. You grabbed Frankie’s hand and together you sprinted toward the ditch. 

Frankie lay on her stomach, and you lay beside her, covering her head the best that you could. Whatever happened, you had always told yourself your teammates' safety came first. You were the one who talked them into storm chasing with you. So, when danger arose, you felt the responsibility of keeping them safe. 

The screeching of winds was so loud in your ears that it almost disoriented you enough to miss the sharp piece of debris that swooped down at the tornado that passed along the field just opposite of the ditch, not directly over top of you but much too close for comfort. Something smacked against the back of your head, but you closed your eyes and held onto Frankie in hope of shielding her from any other flying objects. 

You weren’t sure how long you two lied there, but it felt like a lifetime until the tornado traveled further away. The winds died down but your heart beat stayed quickly pounding against your chest. 

Sitting up, you felt the sharp sting settling in the back of your head, but you ignored it at the sight of Frankie’s cut leg. 

“Shit,” you muttered, grabbing her knee to examine the clean slice down the back of her shin. 

She wiped back the wet pieces of her hair and let out a shuttered breath. “Holy shit, that was crazy.” You pulled off your sweatshirt and wrapped the wet fabric around her shin. “What’re you doing?” 

“You’re bleeding.” 

“It’s fine,” she said, trying to brush it off, but you heard the pain in her voice, along with the tremble of lingering fear at your close call. You knew the dangers of storm chasing and the possibilities of injuries, but it always felt different to you when it was a member of your team, one of your friends. 

A couple minutes after you tied your sweatshirt around her shin and helped her up from the ditch, the truck carrying the rest of your teammates rolled up, hooting and hollering at the size of the storm until they saw the state the two of you were in. 

“Take her back to the motel. If the bleeding doesn’t stop take her to the hospital.” Frankie opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off. “I’m serious.” 

“What about you?” another member of your team asked. 

You looked down the road at your overturned truck, sighing sadly to yourself as the pain in the back of your head throbbed. “I’ve gotta call someone for my truck. I’ll meet you back at the motel later.” 

They were hesitant to leave you but eventually agreed. Down the debris-littered road, you hobbled back to your truck. It had been a gift from your parents after you graduated college; it was special to you, but it was totaled thanks to the tornado. 

With a groan, you heaved open the door and tried to gather your belongings, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You staggered backward, reaching up to touch the tender spot on the back of your head. Something wet coated your fingers and when you pulled your hand back, it was painted red. Frustrated, you tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself down enough to find your cell phone. Unfortunately, the cut was a little worse than you wanted to admit, and you felt blood drip down the back of your neck. 

Dizzily, you sat down on the road, blinking back the pain and wooziness. A slow creep of panic started to take hold as the pain intensified and the world started to spin just slightly. 

With one hand placed firmly on the back of your head, you rubbed your temple with your other, trying to think clearly but it became increasingly more difficult. You missed the hum of an engine nearby, but a slam of a door startled you. 

“Harding!” Someone yelled and you blinked slowly, keeping a hold on the back of your head as you looked up to see Tyler Owens bee-lining right toward you. He kneeled in front of you, brows furrowed and lips pulled in a small frown. “Hey, are you all right?” 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, once again trying to push away the dizziness that plagued you. “I’m, uh, just looking for my phone. I gotta call someone for my truck.” The words felt heavy in your mouth, which couldn’t be a good sign. Whatever struck the back of your head hit it hard and the blood that leaked from the wound wasn’t helping. 

He studied you for a moment, his gaze landing on your hand pressed against the back of your head. “You hurt?” You started to shake your head, but that only caused little black dots to temporarily pepper your vision. Tyler wasn’t an idiot; he reached up and carefully pushed your hand back, stopping when he saw the blood that started to drip down your arm. He cursed under his breath and yelled something at whoever sat in the passenger seat of his truck. 

“Hey.” His voice became soft, comforting even. “We’ve gotta get you to a hospital.” 

“I’m fine,” you inisted, even though every thing you felt inside your body proved that to be untrue. You just hated not being able to do something yourself; you hated needing help. Your father said you interited that from your mother, while she said you got it from your father. Truth was, they both had their air of stubbornness and you was born with double. 

Tyler shook his head. “No, you’re not.” He stood to his feet and gently tugged on your arm in an attempt to help you stand. Begrudgingly, you let him help you. Standing up, the world spun faster and you felt panic swell uncomfortably in your chest. You swayed catching yourself on Tyler’s arms as they grabbed your shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he said. Maybe it was your slightly disoriented state, but his assurance and hands firmly holding onto your arms made some of your panic recoil. As much as you wanted to be okay, you knew that was not the case. 

He knew that too, and helped you into the passenger seat of his truck before he instructed one of his fellow Wranglers to keep pressure on the back of your head with whatever they could find in the backseat. You winced as a crumbled up shirt was held against your head, but the moving truck overwhelmed you with dizziness that made the physical pain of your wound the least of your worries. You didn’t want to pass out but your eyes felt heavy. 

Tyler noticed it too, and placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze and a shake. “You gotta stay with me, okay? You gotta stay awake.” 

“M’trying,” you muttered. 

“You were right about the storm,” he said. “But aren’t you always?” 

A pained smile fell across your lips. “Was that a compliment?” 

He laughed, driving quickly down the road with one hand gripping the wheel tightly. “Yeah. You’re hard to say something bad about. You know your stuff, better than me, that’s for sure.” 

“My parents taught me,” you said, desperately trying to keep yourself consciousness, but it grew more difficult by the minute. 

“Do they still chase?” he asked. 

“Not much anymore. Sometimes if a storm’s close, they’ll take a drive. But they always say they’ve had their fun.” They also said they shared enough close calls to know it was time to hang it up. You know they worried you’d find yourself in one too, but you’d always been careful and rarely got yourself into a situation you couldn’t get out of, until now, that was. 

Darkness encroached on your vision, threatening to force your eyes closed. Some the backseat, you heard one of the Wrangles call Tyler’s name. He turned his head, but you couldn’t see the concerningly red-soaked shirt that made his stomach churn and caused him to press down on the gas harder. Your head lulled to the side and your eyes fluttered close. Vaguely, you heard Tyler call your name and felt him shake your knee, but you couldn’t open your eyes or open your mouth. Everything fell dark. 

-- 

Tyler had spent his fair share of time in hospitals. He’d been bucked off a bull more than once, resulting in his mother dragging him to the hospital and threatening to make him quit. Eventually she held to her threat when he shattered his nose and gained a nasty concussion. 

Being at the hospital for himself was one thing, being there for you made him realize why his mother used to be drenched in worry. He nervously drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair in the hospital room. You were asleep, a fresh bandage wrapped around your head and with a minor concussion. The cut on the back of your head required a couple stitches; you were lucky, all things considered, but Tyler really hated seeing you like that. 

To him, you’d always been unreal. A second generation storm chaser so accomplished. Not only did you know your stuff, it was clear how much you enjoyed it. You lit up at the sight of storms, and Tyler couldn’t help but be in awe. There was a competitive nature to storm chasing and as much as he wanted to be annoyed by you always being two steps ahead of him, he couldn’t. He was just impressed. 

Tyler wasn’t sure how or when that admiration turned into something that teetered on affection, but it felt more than it had been before seated at your hospital bedside. He’d never felt his stomach drop like that before, when you passed out in his truck, Boone holding a bloodied shirt to you head. Even after the doctor said you’d be just fine, he felt on edge. 

The door to your room was pushed open by a nurse who led in two more people, who he instantly recognized: The Hardings. 

He stood up quickly and watched as your mom rushed to your side, brushing a hand across your cheek with a deep frown. “Oh, baby girl,” she sighed.  

The nurse offered your concerned parents a polite smile. “As the doctor said, the concussion was minor so all she need is some rest for the couple of days to a week. She should wake up soon and we'll see how she’s doing, then the doctor will let you know when she can be discharged.” 

You dad rubbed your mom’s back like he was trying to ease the heavy worry that shined in her face, but he too looked just as worried with a crease across his forehead. 

Tyler lightly cleared his throat, gaining your parents’ attention. "Hello, ma'am, sir," he greeted them.

“You must be the one who brought her in,” Jo said, and Tyler nodded in response. “Thank you. We’d been trying to call her, after we saw that storm, but she never answered and I…I just had a bad feeling.” 

Bill rubbed the light stubble on his chin. “No wonder she’s knocked out; I don’t think you’d get here otherwise. Stubborn, that kid.” 

A found smile spread across Tyler’s lips. “She kept saying she was fine until she nearly passed out on me. We only got a couple miles before she did pass out; scared the life out of me,” he said, running a stressed hand through his hair freed from his hat. The second you passed out in his truck, he nearly broke every traffic law. He wasn’t sure he’d never been quiet that scared, which was something he wasn't sure how to feel about.

Your mom furrowed her brows at Tyler’s words, something glinting behind her eyes until it shined in recognition. “You’re that storm chaser she’s always talkin’ about,” Jo said. “The one online.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Bill said, nodding in Tyler’s direction. He couldn’t tell if it was disdain or indifference in the man’s voice, but Tyler was too hung up on the fact that you talked about him to care much. He didn’t know that filled him with an odd sense of pride and warmth. You two weren’t exactly friends but you were more than acquaintances. It was more like a nice, workplace rivalry that he enjoyed a lot more than he’d admit. 

A small groan sounded from the bed, and everyone turned as your eyes fluttered open. Your mom was quick to your side, speaking quietly under the hum of fluorescent lights. 

You started to mumble something about your truck that Tyler couldn’t quite make out, but your dad seemed to understand immediately. He said he’d take care of it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he headed out into the hall with his cell phone in hand. 

Tyler felt like he overstayed his welcome; you were in better hands with your parents there. He collected his things from the chair, garnering your attention. 

“Tyler,” you said, pushing yourself to sit upright. “Thank you.” 

He smiled. “No problem, doctor. I couldn’t let one of the best chasers be out of the game, now could I?” 

“So you admit it? I’ve got you beat.” 

“I said one of,” he joked. “But you may have one or two legs up on me. Not for long though. I’ll catch up.” 

Something in your smile made him want to sigh in relief, but he held it back. “Not a chance.” 

“Then you better rest up; I’ll see you back out there.” 

Bonus!

It took a little longer for you to bounce back, but the second you felt like yourself again, you were right back at it. Morning was supposed to bright a slew of storms to Kansas, so you and your team hightailed it to the state, finding a cozy little motel already occupied by other storm chasers. You spotted Tyler’s truck instantly, followed by a strange turn of your stomach. 

You hadn’t seen him since you woke up in the hospital, slightly surprised that he stayed with you until your parents arrived. Since then, your mom had managed to bring him up at every opportunity, not so subtly hint at what a pair the two of you would be. You brushed her off, but a small part of you wondered what would happen if you hung around the cowboy a little more. 

“Look who’s back!” Tyler’s voice sounded the second you hopped out of Frankie’s beat-up but sturdy truck; you were saving up for a new one, something even nicer that you could doctor up for chasing. 

He approached you with a beaming smile, flashing his teeth. “I just couldn’t stay away,” you replied. “I didn’t miss anything too crazy, did I?” 

Tyler shook his head. “It seemed like mother nature saved the good ones for you. They’re talkin’ some big ones tomorrow.” The giddy feeling that accompanied storm filled your chest, and the company of Tyler heightened it, strange and new but not completely unwelcome. Maybe it was time you gave into his charm a little more.

[inkdrinkerworld]

can i request a girl flirting with spencer but he is too oblivious to understand she is flirting (bc of course he doesnt) so he keeps talking to her, and reader (they are dating) is FURIOUS and he is sooooo confused. i think it could be funny 🤭

post prison!spencer x sunshine!reader are out with the team when spencer gets sidetracked, you don't like that he is. 1.2k

You’re frowning into your long island iced tea. The entire team can see it and Luke is itching to make a comment. He also knows that despite your sunny disposition you might kick his shin under the table. 

“You could always just go bring him back here,” Matt says, sipping his beer as he watches you burn holes into Spencer’s back. 

You’re not jealous, no matter what any of them might imply. 

“He’s a big boy. If he doesn’t want her flirting with him, he can just leave.” 

JJ laughs into her drink, Penelope rolls her eyes as she chews her cherry and Emily shakes her head at you. 

Spencer likely will remove himself from the girl if he doesn’t want to be flirted with- but since he’s been there for the last twenty minutes you suspect he isn’t as into you as they’ve all suggested. 

It was silly of you to let your heart be captured by a man fresh out of prison you suppose. Your frown worsens at your thoughts, Spencer isn’t the ‘lead a girl on,’ type. Still you feel the hot and heavy sting of jealousy and something bitter settle in your chest. 

“He’s still a bit awkward about this,” You roll your eyes this time. They all talk of Spencer like he’s a thirty three year old virgin. He isn’t. You know he isn’t because Penelope had informed you that he’d been in serious relationships before. 

Not that you’d wanted to know. 

When Spencer comes back, you’re itching for a game of cards and the rest of your team is itching for some sort of reaction from either of you. 

It’s been clear over the ten months you’ve been working at the BAU, that you and Spencer have begun to orbit each other. You’re like Pluto and Charon. You bring each other breakfast, make each other’s coffee, you were even almost halfway in his lap on the jet the other day ‘doing crosswords.’ You really were doing crosswords. 

They suspect you’re both just too oblivious (you) and frightened (Spencer) to do anything about the feelings everyone can see you have. 

“Sorry I took so long,” though he says the words loud enough for the entire group to hear, his eyes are on you. 

“Did you at least get her number?” You kick Luke in the shin then, earning a smirk from the man across from you. Maybe if you put salt in his protein powder he’ll relent. 

“What?” Spencer asks, sipping his rum and coke. He brushes a curl of hair from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. 

You reach into your bag and pull out your sparkly deck of cards and shuffle them. “Oh are we doing readings?” Penelope asks, you don’t trust the peachiness of her tone. 

“The girl from the bar.” Matt clarifies for Spencer, whose eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 

“Why would I get her number?” JJ looks at you with a, ‘do you see what we’re saying,’ look but you only shake your head. 

You don’t care if Spencer did get her number or if he’d been flirting back with her. You’re not dating. You don’t care. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. 

“She was flirting with you man.” Luke says and Spencer shrugs, leaning into you as Penelope takes the cards from you. They’re only playing cards, but she’s been trying to get you to read them as well as she reads tarot. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispers in favour of a reply to Luke, eyebrows knitted together when you shrug him out of your space. 

“Fine.” Emily chuckles which only worsens Spencer’s frown. 

“Hey, what about this song?” JJ says, the entire group dispersing. Penelope is the last to go, leaving the ace of hearts face up on the table. 

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asks, hand reaching for your chin. You shake your head from his hand. Spencer feels burned. 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.” You make it a point to stress the word friends and Spencer almost flinches. 

“I don’t believe you.” he says the words plainly. “Are you upset with me?” You turn to face him then, face stony, an expression on your face Spencer has never seen. Other than that day you were on the phone with your brother. 

“Why would I be upset with you? You’re just the clueless thirty three year old everyone thinks can’t tell when a pretty girl at the bar is flirting with him.” Your words are hushed and low, your eyes dark in the poorly lit booth. 

Spencer sighs, his shoulders reaching his ears before falling. “You’re jealous?” 

You grumble, no point in hiding what is so very clear. “You flirt with me for ten months, and then you spend almost thirty minutes letting a stranger put their hands all over you and come back here like you didn’t know she was flirting? If you just wanted the attention you could’ve said so from the beginning, Spencer Reid.” 

There’s no ‘Doctor,’ before his name that lets him know you’re being playful or funny. No, your words and your expression are the iciest thing he thinks he’s ever witnessed. You sound hurt more than anything and that makes Spencer’s heart crack right down the middle. 

His hand reaches for your chin, turning you to face him. “I didn’t just want attention, you know that,”

You roll your eyes, “Oh do I?” Spencer likes this attitude on you, he can’t even pretend to lie to himself. He just doesn’t like the way you doubt him. 

“I like you. You know I like you. Yes, the woman at the bar was flirting with me, but the conversation was being redirected. She was flirting with me till I told her I wasn’t interested and that I had someone waiting for me.” 

You don’t believe him, “Took you twenty eight minutes to do that?” 

Spencer smiles then, pressing his forehead into yours. “You’re worked up, sweet girl.” The nickname settles you a little. “It took me a little to catch on. I’ll admit it takes some getting used to from total strangers. But I didn’t enjoy her flirting with me if that’s what you’re really asking.”

Spencer’s thumb presses into the slight divot in your chin, your eyes stuck on his as he refuses to break eye contact. “I only want you to flirt with me.” 

Your breath hitches, Spencer smiles. “You let her touch you.” He laughs at how petulant you sound, he knows your grip on your anger is slipping. 

“Am I supposed to push her hands off me?” You nod and Spencer lets his nose run along your jaw. “You’re too much.” 

Spencer doesn’t leave your side the rest of the night.

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 2. the journal

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Your memories still remain out of reach, so you ask Joel to tell you a bit about yourself, and with the help of a journal you kept, you begin to learn more about the person you became in the past ten years, leaving you with more questions than answers.

Chapter Warnings: language, eating, alcohol use, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia

WC: 6.3K

Series Masterlist

"Did'ya get any sleep?"

You glanced up at Joel as you walked side by side towards the dining hall.

"No," you admitted, looking straight ahead again.

After Joel left you in his - your - bedroom, instructing you to rest on his way out, you found you could do anything but. Your mind was spinning with all of the information you had just learned, and you weren't sure which topic consumed you more: the end of the world or the supposed love of your life.

The longer his words set in, the more you were finding it difficult to look at him. It was such a strange feeling, having this large, burly, gruff man proclaim his love for you, to say he would stop at nothing to make you feel the same way, to insist you were meant for each other. It seemed so out of character, though you hardly felt like you knew him. But even now as you walked down the street, you noticed how some of the people in town glanced at him. Moving quickly out of his way.

It wasn't just you who found him intimidating.

You were distracted as you walked, curiously peering into storefronts and repurposed buildings when a group of children playing a game of tag nearly ran into you. At the last moment, Joel tugged your arm, pulling you into his side just in time. The children seemed to realize their mistake because their laughter quickly stopped and the smiles fell from their faces as they looked up at him.

"We're sorry, Mr. Miller," a young boy no more than eight years old said.

Miller. You never even bothered to ask his last name.

Joel just grunted and they scurried away, no doubt eager to escape his glare. You chanced a look at him, studying his stern expression when you realized he was still holding you against him. He was warm. Warmer than you expected. And solid. You cleared your throat and stepped away from his grasp, muttering your thanks and glancing around the busy street to avoid the disappointed look in his eye when it became clear you weren't comfortable with him touching you.

You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans and continued to walk in silence down the main road. A few people shot you curious looks or did double takes as they walked by, and you had to assume if Ellie heard the news about your accident, then others had, as well.

The Tipsy Bison came into view at the corner of the street, made obvious by the large crowds of people gathered outside.

"Does everyone have to eat here or are you allowed to have food in your homes?" you asked him, and he looked down at you, surprised by the question.

"We got food. It's not like a prison or somethin'," he said with a chuckle. "Most folks like to come here to socialize, but sometimes we cook dinner at home," he stopped short when he realized he never asked you what you preferred. "Did'ya wanna stay home instead?"

"No, this is fine," you told him over your shoulder.

"You sure? Maybe it's too much right now," he replied, jogging a bit to keep up.

"I'm sure. You won't leave me, right?" you asked, looking at him nervously.

"'Course not," he said, trying to hide his grin. He liked that you wanted him around, even if it was only because you didn't know anybody else. It was a start.

When Joel swung the door open, holding it wide so you could enter first, it might have been your imagination but you thought the loud chatter simultaneously died down for a split second. Then Joel stepped in beside you and the volume rose once again.

You wanted to look around and take in the rustic atmosphere but you could feel the eyes on you as Joel led you through the crowd, the scrutiny making you feel extremely out of place, so you kept your gaze pinned straight ahead. Following dutifully behind, you watched as people automatically moved out of his way, like he was Moses parting the Red Sea, until he reached a table in a somewhat quiet corner of the dining hall. He pulled out a chair and stood behind it, his hand still resting on the back, and it took you a second to realize he was waiting for you to sit so he could push it in. You quietly thanked him then finally looked around the room.

The dining room had tables scattered around, and as far as you could see, they all appeared to be taken. People were standing in groups, drinking and laughing and eating and you wondered how in the world your table wasn't taken. You were about to turn and ask when an older man approached your table.

"Hey guys," he said, pulling out a pad of paper from his pocket. "What'll it be?"

You went wide eyed for a moment, looking around trying to figure out what your choices were when, much to your relief, Joel spoke for you both.

"Still got any of that stew left?"

"Sure do. Few guys got lucky earlier today, too. Got two deer, so we'll be havin' more soon," he replied, jotting something down on his paper. "Two whiskies?"

Joel was about to nod when you spoke up for the first time.

"Just water for me, thanks," you said, and the man nodded his head.

"Thanks, Seth," Joel said as he walked away.

You glanced at Joel quickly, awkwardly catching his eye. It felt too much like a date. Dropping your gaze to the table, you tried to think of something to say.

"Probably a good idea, skippin' alcohol," he said. "Didn't even think about it, what with your head and all."

"Yeah," you said, your hand coming up to gently touch the stitches. "Besides, I don't like whiskey, anyway," you added. Joel laughed softly as he watched you shift nervously in your chair.

"What?" you asked with a frown.

"Nothin'," he replied, still staring at you in disbelief. "Just ever since you got here you've been tossin' back whiskey better than most of the men. You must've gotten a taste for it at some point."

"There's no way," you said, scrunching your nose when Seth put down Joel's glass in front of him. He stared down at it wistfully, swirling the amber liquid in the glass, lost in thought.

"Whiskey's how we first met," he said softly, still staring at the glass. You tilted your head towards him, waiting for him to continue. "When you first arrived, you were like a caged animal. You came here lookin' to blow off steam," he said with a distant smile. "It was a slow night. Just you and me and a handful of others. You were tossin' that shit back like it was nothin'."

You watched him as he reminisced. His eyes shone brightly and a small smile played on his lips, it almost felt like you were intruding on something special.

"When me and Ellie first arrived, no one really went outta their way to talk to me. I preferred it that way. Was used to bein' on my own," he continued, looking up at you now. "But that night, you sat down next to me at the bar like you had been waitin' for me or somethin'. You asked me if I was drinkin' for fun or drinkin' to forget. Those were the very first words you said to me."

You were completely silent as he spoke. The way he told it, it felt like you could see the scene playing out right before you, the way he remembered every detail left you in awe.

"What did you say?" you asked a little breathlessly.

The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked down at the table.

"Drinkin' to forget."

You waited for him to elaborate, but when it became apparent he wasn't going to, you asked him another question.

"Then what happened?"

He raised his eyebrows and hummed, a slow smile stretching across his face before he answered.

"You told me you could help me have fun and help me forget," he said, and you could feel the heat instantly flush your cheeks.

"Oh, my god," you murmured, covering your mouth, utterly mortified. "Please tell me you're joking."

He shook his head, still smiling at the memory. You glanced around the room, trying to look anywhere but at him.

"So then, did we...?" you trailed off, gaze still fixed on a spot on the wall.

"Oh, yeah. 'Course we did. I'm no saint," he chuckled.

"Jesus Christ," you said, burying your face in your hands. "That doesn't sound like me at all."

"It's not. Well, not anymore. You had an edge to you when you first arrived. Most do. Survivin' out there does that to you," he said, taking his first sip of whiskey.

You sat in silence for another minute, contemplating asking him what he knew about your life before you met him, but ultimately deciding against it. Maybe another time.

"Where's the bathroom?" you asked him, and he pointed down a small hallway near the bar. You thanked him, his eyes trailing after you as you made your way through the crowds, only dropping his gaze once you were no longer in view. It was a strange thing, recounting stories for you like that. At first, the memories made him smile, but once he saw the lost look on your face he felt the sadness creep back up, settling deep in his chest, and he wondered if he would ever get you back.

You knew you were in the bathroom too long. You knew he would likely be worried, but you just couldn't stop staring at your reflection in the mirror after you washed your hands. Who was this person staring back at you? She looked older and weathered and tired. Your fingertip gently prodded at the bags under your eyes and then a small scar on your chin. What happened to you out there to make you the person Joel was describing? What did you have to do to survive? And did you really want to know the answer?

The door swung open, startling you as three girls around your age entered the bathroom. Their giggles stopped when they saw you and you watched them exchange glances in the mirror before a pretty girl with long, blonde hair greeted you by name. Turning around, you gave her a smile, hoping they would go about their business so you could slip out of there, but of course the pretty girl wanted to talk.

"We heard you had an accident, are you okay?" she asked, and she sounded sincere, but something about her smile made you think twice.

"Yeah, got a few stitches but it should be fine," you said, your eyes flicking to the other two girls, giving them each a smile. They looked at each other and smirked before heading towards the bathroom stalls, leaving you with just the blonde.

"So, is it true? Did you really lose your memory?" she asked, her voice low as if it were a secret, and finally you were able to pick up the vibe. You had been to high school before the outbreak. You had encounters with these types of girls before. Friendly to your face, vicious behind your back.

"Uh, yeah," you admitted, and she gasped as if she felt bad, but you saw the way her eyes lit up.

"So you don't remember, like, anything?"

"Well, I remember before everything went to hell," you told her, "but I don't remember this place, no."

"Oh, wow," she said, and you heard the toilets flush before the other two girls exited the stalls, grinning conspiratorially at the blonde. "So you don't know anybody here?"

You shook your head, feeling uncomfortable with the line of questioning at this point. What was she really getting at?

"That must mean you don't remember Joel, right?" one of the girls at the sink piped up. You looked at her briefly over your shoulder and shook your head, turning back to the blonde but not before you caught the look in her eye.

"Oh, that's too bad," she said, giving you a pout. "Does that mean you aren't together anymore, or-"

Suddenly, the door swung open and Ellie stormed in. Her hard gaze drifted around to the three girls and she gave them a look of disgust.

"Scram, vultures," she told them, and the blonde made a face at her before flipping her hair over her shoulder and heading to one of the stalls. Ellie called your name and you scurried over, allowing her to lead you back out into the dining room but not before she gave the other two girls a few choice words.

"Don't talk to them, they're nasty," she told you as you weaved your way through the crowd. Joel's eyes instantly found you once you were in view and you saw him straighten up in his chair.

"You okay?" he asked, and you could see the genuine concern in his face as you sat down. You were about to answer when Ellie plopped down on the other side of him and spoke first.

"Angie and her little sidekicks cornered her in there," she explained, rolling her eyes. "Already sniffing around for scraps."

"What do you mean?" you asked her, but just then Seth arrived with your meals and you never got an answer.

"Stew again?" Ellie asked, scrunching up her nose.

"It's good," Joel told her before taking a bite. You looked down at the bowl and you were inclined to agree with Ellie, but you swallowed the food down anyway, just grateful for something to eat after such a long day.

"Aren't you going to eat?" you asked her, noticing she hadn't ordered anything and instead was busy sketching in a journal.

"Nah, I'm going to Dina's later, I'll eat there," she explained without looking up.

"Who's Dina?"

"Oh, my girlfriend," Ellie explained, glancing up at you briefly. "Sorry. I still can't get used to this. It's so weird you don't remember."

"Don't be out too late. You got school tomorrow," Joel reminded her. Even though he wasn't Ellie's father, he seemed to have quite the knack for being a dad.

"Yes, sir," she said sarcastically, giving him a weak, two-fingered salute before hunching back over her journal. You heard some familiar giggles coming from somewhere behind you, and when you turned to look, you locked eyes with the blonde girl from the bathroom - Angie - who was holding some drink in her hand, her two friends flanking her sides as she strolled past your table. Her eyes drifted briefly to Joel before she passed by, then turned her attention to her friends, disappearing into the crowd.

"Who is that?" you asked, realizing you never really got much of an explanation. Joel and Ellie responded at the same time.

"Nobody."

"Joel's ex."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as Joel glared at Ellie.

"What? She woulda found out eventually," Ellie protested.

"She ain't even an ex," he said, turning to you now. "Just a mistake I made one time before you even got here," he insisted. The tone in his voice made it sound like he was trying to reassure you there was nothing to worry about, but of course, the information didn't phase you.

"Okay," you replied with a shrug. He examined your blank stare for a moment, searching for a glimmer of recognition. The disappointment in his expression every time something like this happened was becoming too much to bear, so you dragged your eyes off him to glance around the crowded room once again. You found Tommy leaning against the bar and you stood up.

"Where are you goin'?"

"I need to ask Tommy something," you said. "I'll be right back."

His eyes followed you as you pushed your way towards the bar, his heart feeling like it was going to break. He wasn't exactly looking for you to have an overly jealous reaction to hearing about another woman from his past, but your casual indifference hurt more than he expected. When you first found out about Angie, you insisted you weren't jealous but the way you sneered at her going forward, combined with giving him the best sex of his life later that night told him a different story.

"You think she'll ever get her memory back?" Ellie asked, still focusing on her drawing. Joel sighed and dragged his hands down his face.

"I don't know, kid."

"What'd you need to talk to Tommy for?" Joel asked once you both arrived back to his - your - home. You had wandered into the kitchen, Joel hot on your trail.

"Oh, I just had a question about something I saw when we were out there today," you explained, and he raised an eyebrow for you to continue. "There were dead bodies when I came to. They looked all decayed and... subhuman. Now that you told me about the infection, I wanted to ask."

Joel watched you open and close cupboards until you found the glasses, then picked one out to fill with water.

"So you ran into some runners," he said, and you nodded. "Did he happen to mention how you hit your head?"

Your hand froze, your glass halfway to your lips as you considered his question.

"Actually, no, he didn't," you said, setting down the glass and looking up at him.

"Yeah, he didn't really tell me, either," he replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "When he told me you hit your head and you were havin' trouble remeberin' things, I just came runnin'."

Guilt washed over you yet again as you thought about Joel being told the news and how panicked he must have been. He practically ripped all the exam room doors off their hinges to find you, only to be met with a stranger when he finally did.

"Well, I can ask him tomorrow," you finally said, putting your glass in the sink to avoid looking at him.

"Yeah," he replied, trailing off a bit. He was still lost in thought, trying to remember Tommy's exact words when you walked past him towards the stairs.

"You're tired?"

"Well, it's been a long day," you told him, pausing on a stair to look back down at him.

"Right, 'course," he said, shaking his head and following you up. When you got to the doorway of his bedroom you paused, looking up at him. It seemed like he was struggling to say something, his mind working hard to find the words, but instead he just gazed down at you, brown eyes all wide and soft.

"Don't suppose anythin's comin' back to you yet?" he finally asked, and you hated seeing that look. That same hopeful look you kept seeing right before you opened your mouth and crushed him. This was hard for him, you knew that, but the way he kept looking at you was making things so much worse. The pressure you felt to become this person he was expecting you to be was overwhelming. You opted to drop your gaze to the floor and slowly shake your head.

"That's okay," he said, and you dragged your eyes back up to him. "Maybe tomorrow."

You gave him a small smile. "Yeah, maybe."

He sighed and glanced at the door to the spare room.

"You need anythin', I'm right next door," he said, hitching his thumb to the side and giving you a lopsided grin, but you could still see it in his eyes. The disappointment. The sadness. The yearning. And it was making you feel sick.

Just as he turned to head towards the spare room, you spoke. "Joel?"

And he eagerly swiveled back around.

"I'm gonna try really hard to remember," you said earnestly, looking deep into his eyes.

"I know," he replied with a sad smile. He gave you one more look before heading into the spare room and softly closing the door behind him.

Joel slept like shit.

No surprise there, really. He hadn't slept without you in years. He had hoped the whiskey would have helped, but he was wrong. His mind was racing as he tossed and turned, and by morning he had foolishly convinced himself that you would be back to normal after a good night's rest. He got up early and made coffee for the two of you, like he always did, then tended to the fire in the living room. The nights and early mornings were frigid, but the days were warm. The first sign that fall was approaching fast. He was just putting the poker back when he heard the bedroom door creak open upstairs and his heart jumped into his throat excitedly, but when you descended the stairs and locked eyes with him, he knew nothing had changed. He didn't even bother to ask. You didn't look at him the same way you used to. You used to smile and gravitate towards him, your hands always seeking out his, your eyes playful and loving, but now you looked at him like he was a complete stranger. Devoid of all affection, the only thing that remained was a forced politeness.

You said good morning and headed into the kitchen and Joel wondered how long it would take for you to come around. Less than a day ago, you looked at him in fear, but now you seemed at least comfortable in his presence. That had to count for something.

He must have looked like shit because when he joined you in the kitchen, you eyed him up and down curiously.

"Have you been up for a while?"

He shook his head and picked up his mug, taking a sip and hoping the caffeine would bring him back to life.

"How's your head?" he asked.

"Not great," you admitted, pouring your own cup of coffee. "It really hurts. I think whatever meds the doctor gave me yesterday wore off."

Without even thinking, Joel quickly closed the distance between you to examine your injury. You startled a bit when he came up behind you and lifted your hair, but for his benefit, you tamped down your reaction. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he gripped the nape of your neck to angle your head downwards in order to get a better look. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you focused on his fingertips pressing tenderly into your skin. You heard him murmur to himself, the sound coming from deep within his chest, and you realized just how close he really was. Aside from pulling you out of the way so the kids playing tag wouldn't knock you down, it was the first time he had really touched you, and he was so much softer than you expected.

"Don't think it's infected but let's go see the doc, just to be sure," he said, his hand still on your neck, his other hand pushing your hair away.

"Okay," you said quietly, finally allowing yourself to take in a shaky breath as you waited for him to release you.

As if he realized what he was doing, he let your hair fall back into place and let go of your neck, his fingertips lightly trailing down your spine before falling to his side, making you shiver and step away.

"Sorry," he said. "Should've asked to look first."

"It's fine," you told him, absentmindedly rubbing the spot on your neck his fingers just touched.

As you walked side by side to the infirmary, his stony expression slid back into place. Gone was the softness you witnessed in his home. His hardened gaze drifted around the street, then to the watch towers, taking everything in. Studying. Calculating. And that was when you realized there were two Joel Millers: the one who the rest of the town viewed as gruff and callous, and the one you saw in the kitchen that morning, soft and gentle.

You wondered how many people got to see the latter version.

Nick examined you again in the same room as before, but this time, Joel was there watching his every move like a hawk. You could practically see the tension radiating off Nick's shoulders as he moved around the room. He examined your cut carefully, Joel's eyes never once leaving his hands, confirming that it was not infected before parceling out ten little white tablets of extra strength Tylenol into a small baggie and advising you to use them sparingly as inventory was low.

"That's it?" Joel asked incredulously.

"You know how it is, Joel," Nick said, but you heard his voice waver when Joel stood up from his chair. "Meds are hard to come by, we gotta be smart-"

"She hit her goddamn head so fuckin' hard she's lucky she remembers her own name and you're givin' her Tylenol?" he seethed, and you could see his neck growing flush with anger again.

"Joel, calm down, it's fine," you said, sliding off the table. Turning to Nick, you were about to voice your thanks when Joel cut you off.

"It ain't fine. What's it gotta take to get somethin' that actually works?" he huffed, taking a step forward and making Nick shift his weight nervously. "She gotta be missin' an arm? Maybe if she hit her head hard enough to forget what fuckin' planet she's on?"

"Joel, that's enough!" you snapped with a frown, and much to Nick's relief, Joel instantly backed off. He turned and paced around the small room, his hand rubbing over his mouth as he tried to calm down.

"What about my memory? Is it a bad sign I haven't remembered anything yet?" you asked Nick, and Joel paused somewhere behind you to listen to his answer.

"Well, the brain is a tricky thing," he began, his eyes darting over your shoulder briefly. "It could be weeks, could be months. Without any imaging, I wouldn't be able to tell you much more than that." You nodded and swallowed nervously before asking your next question.

"Or never, right?"

Nick took a deep breath and looked at Joel over your shoulder again before responding.

"It's possible."

You heard Joel's boots squeak against the linoleum floor and without even looking, you knew he was anxiously pacing around again.

"Alright, thank you. We'll get out of your hair now," you said, turning to corral Joel towards the door.

"Regardless, I'd like to see you again in a few days so I can take a look at those stitches," Nick said, and you agreed while pushing a muttering Joel back out into the hallway.

"I'll get you better meds," he said as you both walked out of the infirmary. "I got patrol tomorrow mornin', but I can go out after. There's a small cluster of houses we never did a full sweep on. Maybe-"

"The Tylenol is fine, don't go through the trouble. You could get hurt," you said, shoving the baggie of pills into your pocket.

"Tylenol ain't gonna do shit. I don't want you bein' in pain if there's somethin' we can do about it."

You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck, trying to temporarily relieve the ache in your head until you could get home and take one of the pills. You gave Joel a sideways glance, studying him as you walked together. He was brash and rude and aggressive, but you were learning that side of him came out when he was being protective over the ones he loved.

Or when he was trying to hide who he really was.

"So, everyone pitches in around here, right?" you asked, trying to change the subject. "You do patrol. What do I do?"

You paused at a crossroads, trying to remember which way to go, when Joel's hand on your elbow guided you in the right direction.

"You work patrol, too, but you ain't doin' that anymore," he said, letting go of your elbow after holding on for a moment too long.

"Well, obviously. I don't even know how to ride a horse," you said with a snort. "So I guess I need to find a new job, right? Who do I talk to?"

"Why don't you slow down a minute?" Joel said with a chuckle. "Let that pretty little head of yours heal up before you go lookin' for work."

You weren't going to say anything about his comment. Although it took you off guard, you realized he had habits that were going to be hard to ignore and you didn't expect that to happen overnight, but he seemed to realize what he said on his own and awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"It's okay. I know this is difficult for you," you said, shooting him a sympathetic glance as you climbed his porch steps. He swung open the door and followed you inside, where you made a beeline for a glass of water so you could take one of the pills.

"We got a lotta history, you and me. It's hard to start over," he said as he watched you toss back the Tylenol with a wince. You examined his face closely and pulled out one of the stools to sit down. You leaned forward, forearms resting on the cool countertop before replying.

"Tell me a story."

He raised an eyebrow at you but couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from turning up a bit.

"What kinda story?"

"A story about us. You just said we have a lot of history together. Let's hear some of it," you replied with an encouraging smile.

"You sure? Thought you'd wanna go lay down," he said, but he eagerly pulled up a stool across from you.

"I think I can handle one little story," you told him, then watched as he stared down at his hands on top of the counter, deep in thought. When he thought of one, a slow smile spread across his face and his dark brown eyes flicked up to meet yours and you saw that softer side of him again.

"Alright," he said, settling back a bit. "So I told'ya last night how we met."

You cringed, remembering the story of a much bolder and seductive version of yourself, and nodded.

"Well, after that night we started seein' each other for a few weeks. It was just casual, nothin' serious," he said, looking down at his hands again. "I convinced you to sneak around so no one would catch on, and you grew tired of that. Rightfully so. I was bein' an asshole."

You watched him pull at a loose thread on the cuff of his flannel shirt, his eyes still cast down and you were beginning to realize it was due to shame.

"So anyway. One day you came over to, y'know..." he said, and you felt the heat in your cheeks again. "And you confronted me about it head on. Demanded to know why I wanted to keep you a secret. Thought I was ashamed of you - which I wasn't," he said quickly, his eyes finally meeting yours again. "But I had been through a lot of shit and I just didn't think I could give myself to someone like that again."

"What kind of shit?" you asked quietly, but he just lightly shook his head.

"One story at a time," he told you with a sad smile. You chewed on your lower lip as you waited for him to continue, his focus back on the loose string while he collected his thoughts.

"So I explained I had a hard time lettin' people in, that I wasn't capable of carin' 'bout anyone like that anymore, and you said to me, 'I know who you are, Joel Miller. Don't give me that bullshit, you're just scared.'"

He stared into your eyes, letting what he said land and hoping to see a flicker of the woman who spoke those words, but you just continued to look at him, waiting for him to finish the story like it was about somebody else entirely.

"Well, you were right, obviously. You always are," he continued with a smirk. "It knocked me on my ass. And I didn't know what was more difficult to believe: that you knew me better than I knew myself, or someone like you wanted anythin' to do with me in the first place."

You smiled and dropped your gaze to the counter, suddenly feeling shy.

"I'm not saying I don't believe you, but so far, these stories don't sound like me at all," you admitted.

He took a deep breath and finally stopped fidgeting with his sleeve.

"A lot's happened in ten years. Stuff that changes people. But I don't care what version of you's here, I love all of you."

You kept your eyes glued to his hands. You wished you could say it back. You knew he wanted to hear it. Maybe one day.

He tapped his finger on the counter, pulling your attention up so you were forced to look him in the eye.

"You fought for me that night, now I'm gonna fight for you, okay?" he said, eyebrows raised as he waited for you to acknowledge him. When you nodded sheepishly, his shoulders relaxed.

"So you're saying I fell in love with you because you were an asshole?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood, and it worked. Joel laughed heartily and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nah, you didn't love me then," he said, still smiling.

"So how did I fall in love with you?" you asked, and his tongue clicked against his teeth.

"You're gonna have to wait to find out," he replied with a wink.

It wasn't his fault, but the rest of the day you could feel Joel looking at you. He was examining you, waiting to see the woman he fell in love with, and the pressure was beginning to be too much, so you made up an excuse to go lay down in his bedroom. He had mentioned he had patrol in the morning. Maybe some time away from him would help you relax.

You stared up at the white ceiling. The distant sound of children laughing outside through the closed window and then the door to the garage swinging open and shut acted as a soundtrack to your overactive thoughts. You almost had to laugh. It felt like your mind was constantly working, churning up information and digesting it only to always come up empty.

Absolutely nothing seemed familiar. Nothing about this place or these people felt like home.

You wished so badly you could remember something. Anything to make you feel like you belonged there. One little shred of hope was all you were looking for.

And then you remembered the journal.

Sitting up in bed, you tucked your legs underneath you and reached over for the black book. You fingers hesitated for a moment on the cover. It felt like an invasion of privacy, but how could that be when it was your own?

Taking a deep breath, you flipped open the journal and began at the beginning.

Right away, you could tell you wrote the entries. There was no doubt in your mind. Aside from your handwriting, your typical disorganization shone through like a beacon on every page. You occasionally remembered to notate in the margin the date, or your best guess at the date, but more often than not you were left with very little context for each small paragraph you read.

You were disappointed to realize the journal seemed to begin after you had met Joel. A big part of you was very eager to learn more about the person you were before finding Jackson, but it seemed as though you would have to depend on others to tell you stories you hopefully had relayed to them in the past.

The first page looked to be a list of items you had jotted down that didn't make much sense, but maybe when you first found the notebook, you hadn't intended to use it as a journal.

Socks, colored pencils, sunflower seeds, cards.

Flipping the page, you skimmed a short paragraph about a cabin you stumbled upon when on patrol. Again, it was more notes than anything of any substance. A description of approximately where it was in relation to Jackson along with a note to 'mention it at the next town hall meeting'.

Finally something interesting on the next page, you read a short paragraph about someone named Maria having a baby girl, and you frowned when you read the line Joel handled it better than I expected.

Continuing on, you read an entry about Christmas: Joel found me the softest sweater, it almost felt brand new. I really don't know how he managed to find it and I described the house I grew up in to Ellie and she drew it perfectly, I can't believe how talented she is.

One paragraph in particular grabbed your attention. It was about two people, and based on the context, it sounded like you were close friends. For the first time since we got here, I had the same day off as Ben and Lisa. We went fishing together and brought a lunch. It felt just like old times. As weird as it sounds, sometimes I miss being out there with them. We made a good team.

Maybe this Ben and Lisa would be able to answer some questions you had about yourself. Based on what you just read, it sounded like they knew you before Jackson.

There was a lot more to read, but the next page stopped you dead in your tracks. Your heart began to beat faster as you stared at the four words. Just one sentence, no explanation. A shiver slowly trickled down your spine as you sat there, unmoving, as your vision narrowed on the page: Joel lied to me.

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[joeloverture]

sea-cret obsession | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dad's enemy!yachter!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your dad's always had a superiority complex when it comes to his place at austin's finest yacht club. when joel miller joins the club, not only does he dethrone your dad — he also becomes your newest obsession. warnings: (18+ mdni) yachter!joel, dad's enemy!joel, age gap (mid 20s/mid 50s), alcohol, joel is implied to be older than reader's dad - don't read too far into it, reader wears a bikini (anyone can, i promise!), fantasizing, creepyish joel but reader's into it, soft!dom joel, porn with a paper-thin plot, m!receiving oral, throatfucking, facial, cum-eating, f!masturbation, blowjob in the captain's chair, daddy kink (oops), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, degradation, pet names, aftercare [no use of y/n] word count: 2.9k a/n: this was supposed to be a ficlet for @iamasaddie's ✏️game. this is not a ficlet. please suspend your disbelief, this concept simply fell into my lap the moment i saw the wonderful moodboard aly put together for me. go check out the other fics, most of which are much shorter than mine and are absolute brain candy, that stemmed from aly's game!

Austin is hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell, and you haven’t stopped sweating bullets since climbing out of Lake Travis. After an afternoon of floating belly-up in your bikini off of the dock of the yacht club your dad frequents, your need for a drink finally outweighed your need for aimless swimming.

Your bare feet are still burning from the hotfooted walk across the wooden deck into the bar. Water droplets cling to your skin and leave a pattern of stippled concrete in your wake. It’s been a few hours you’ve seen your dad around the club, having already gotten into a pissing contest with new club members over horsepower and amenities. Your dad’s the type to always want the biggest and the best: the most decks, the biggest wine fridge, the nicest galley — because God forbid he lose his running ten-year superiority to a newbie.

So yeah, you need a drink. You don’t even have to order; the bartender, Callie, simply slides your usual order over, which you nurse while watching a preseason football game. You haven’t bothered to sit down, your hip popped out with your elbows propped up on the granite countertop.

You don’t even notice the wolf whistle from behind is directed at you until a man sidles up next to you, flashing a smile at Callie. He looks like he belongs in a yacht club, curls styled and sculpted neatly around his face down to where the collar of his blue blazer begins. Some of the buttons on his striped shirt are undone, and your eyes, much to your chagrin, linger at the slice of tanned chest peeking through the fabric.

He looks you up and down, unabashedly licking his lips when he sees the crease of your thighs. “Sweetheart, you’re much too pretty to be entertainin’ the ragtag kinda men around here.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been hit on by the yachters at this particular club, but it is the first time one of them has caught your eye. “I’m not–” you start before you hear the telltale sign of your dad’s laughter coming from close by. You turn around, drink in hand as he rounds the corner, sunglasses on and a towel around the back of his neck. 

Your dad’s expression immediately sours with a speed you’ve never seen in him before. His lips draw tight at the sight of you – or maybe the sight of the man next to you.

“Joel,” your dad says, separating from his entourage. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“Seems it,” the man, presumably Joel, nods, flagging down Callie for an old fashioned. The glass sweats condensation along his sturdy hand. He holds eye contact with you while he sips, only looking away when he runs his tongue along the rim of the glass. “Oughta let me take ‘er for a ride one day. Bet she’d appreciate the fine machinery of a real boat.”

You don’t miss the innuendo to his words even if your dad doesn’t. You scrub your hands along your sides, your sunscreen-sticky skin dewy beneath your palms. You shush the part of yourself that bets you’d appreciate it, too.

“Your boat is maybe good for getting to the retirement home across the lake,” your dad snaps, squeezing your shoulder. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s head home.”

You find your flip flops at the bottom of your beach bag, barely having the time to kick them on before your dad is practically pulling you out of the yacht club. He gives half-hearted waves to his usual boating buddies until you’re in the parking lot, surrounded by heat shimmering over the blacktop. The scalding hot leather seats burn the backs of your thighs and the small of your back as you settle in. With a purr, the air conditioner blows a fresh burst of wind in your face.

“What was that all about?” you ask when he starts the engine.

Your dad clips his sunglasses on his polo shirt, gripping the steering wheel ten and two with a winded sigh through his nose. “Fuckin’... rookie with his triple-decker Ferretti.”

Joel looked rich. But not Ferretti rich. “Who the hell in Austin owns a Ferretti?”

“That son of a bitch, that’s who. I don’t want you runnin’ amok on Joel’s boat, you hear me?”

“Ain’t planning on it,” you respond as if you don’t already know what’ll happen if Joel propositions you again.

You see Joel again soon, but only in passing. A wink behind your father’s back, a drink from the gentleman across the bar that was only coincidentally Joel. The locations of these run-ins are always different. Sometimes you walked by each other on the dock. Sometimes he’d give you both a quick wave from across the water before he sped off, leaving the boat rocking on the stirred up tide and your dad cussing up a storm.

Today’s almost-tryst happens on the dock. You’re walking past Joel’s designated dock in a bikini that you’d nearly thrown out because of its snug fit. You have to smother your disappointment when you don’t see him on the top deck sipping a beer. You know better than to be disappointed over the man who your dad has not only claimed as a mortal enemy, but also claimed as the antichrist. With the thoughts Joel gives you when your hand is between your thighs, it might not be too far from the truth.

You think you have most of it figured out – he’s rough, he has to be. With how relentless as he is on the waters, it makes no sense for him to be anything else. His fancy, custom belt buckles snicking as it comes undone so he can yank his jeans down and get inside of you. Those chains he always wears would hang in your face, swaying with every roll of his hips into yours as he chases his pleasure deep inside of your–

“Woah there, darlin’,” a honeyed voice coaxes you, a muscled arm darting out to stop you in your path. “Almost walked right into the lake.” Your head snaps up to look at Joel, the very inconvenient object of your fantasies. You swallow the quickly-forming lump in the back of your throat. “You sure you ain’t had too many?”

“Positive,” you say. You haven’t even done a shot s0 far today.

“Mmm, alright.” The playful glint in his eyes doesn’t seem too convinced. It makes your heart stutter before you remind it to keep beating. “Tell ya what, you’re welcome to ‘sober up’ on my boat.”

You look between where your dad’s dock sits empty. He’s out with his co-workers today, shooting the shit too much for their own good. Then you look between Joel and his boat, the beauty of a Ferretti that’s just two steps away.

Mouth already watering at the possibilities, you say, “I do remember you promising me a ride, old man.”

Joel’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, and he makes the long step from the dock to the boat, hand held out for you. You don’t hesitate to let him help you aboard. 

You’re on your knees in front of the captain’s chair before he gets to the middle of Lake Travis. “Old man,” he mocks above you with his legs spread as far as they can go. You kitten-lick his hardened cock, making sure to lap up the obscene amount of his precum. There’s certainly one part of Joel that doesn’t need to go to a retirement home, and it’s in your mouth. You suckle at the leaking head of his cock while his strokes your cheek, only pulling away to spoon a drop of his precum from your lip onto your tongue. “You like suckin’ an older man’s cock, pretty girl?”

You nod eagerly, taking him deeper so you can tongue the vein along the underside of his cock. From that, he groans, head slumping on the headrest so he can gather himself. You spit a generous amount into your hand, wrapping around the base to properly suck him.

“Bet there’s a whole ‘nother lake in that skimpy lil’ bikini of yours, ain’t that right?” You nod around his length and go a little deeper. He’s heavy on your tongue, long and girthy all at once. He presses lightly against the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him, but you wouldn’t pull away from him even if the yacht itself set on fire. He moans as you start to bob your head up and down. You rub your thighs together just thinking about what his cock could be capable of between your legs. “Mhm, I know, baby. You wanna push that outta the way and give it a rub for me? A rub for your real daddy?”

A choked whimper punches its way out of you. His hips jerk from the vibrations, unintentionally pushing himself further down your throat. You expect it to be too much, but it isn’t. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath as you wrap your hand around the wide palm seated on his thigh and raise it to the back of your head. “Please fuck my throat, daddy,” you pout up at him, a mixture of your spit and his precum dripping down your chin and into your cleavage.

Another groan tugs its way out of him when he looks down at you. He cups the back of your head and brings his cock back to your mouth. “Can’t say no to such a gorgeous fuckin’ face. Gonna look so damn good covered in my cum.” You keep licking his tip, not wanting to miss a single drop of him. “Go ‘head and put a hand on your pussy, baby. Rub that clit that daddy’s got all throbbin’.”

And how could you ever say no to him? Your hand is down your bikini within seconds, peeling your tacky panties away from your cunt so your fingertips can rub circles along your clit. A circle against your swollen core pulls a moan from you right as he thrusts into your throat. He starts out slow, tentative as he pushes all the way into your throat and then pulls all the way out. His second thrust is much harder, stifling your breathing for a moment as a strangled noise of pleasure leave his parted lips.

He nudges you further down onto his cock, burying your nose into the triangle of skin exposed by his rumpled button-down. You force down the gag that builds in the back of your throat. Joel keeps your mouth speared on his cock with shallow rolls of his hips into the warm wetness of your mouth. You whine, prompting a hearty chuckle from him. “Good girl, daddy’s good little girl. Keep playin’ with yourself for me.” He smirks down at you. “Ain’t much different than what you do in your own bed, huh? Pussy just cryin’ for some cock, I bet.”

You moan in agreement as your eyes flutter shut when you rub your clit harder, harder, harder until arousal is smeared all over your knuckles and across your mound. “Nuh-uh,” he says with a punctuating adjustment of his hips. You gag, spit webbing through Joel’s happy trail. “Eyes on me.”

You’re satisfied to find him just as debauched as you feel. Strands of his usually put-together hair are out of place along his forehead, and his golden chain glistens with sweat. His hands grip the arms of the captain’s chair, spread on the tanned leather and exerting dominance over your kneeling silhouette. But you aren’t fooled. There’s a certain rosiness to his cheeks, a flare to his nose, that lets you in on the secret: he’s just as wrecked, just as in deep as you are.

You pull up and immediately sink down on his cock again, pleading eyes looking up at him, asking him. I want it daddy. I want you. And then he’s fucking your throat in earnest. His hips buck up to meet the back of your throat. You struggle to keep up with his size, his pace, but you suck his cock even with the knowledge that you won’t know how to explain your sore throat or raspy voice to your dad.

Joel squints down at you, absorbing the seeping spit from the corners of your raw lips, your droopy, ecstasy-laden eyes. He sighs, sinking down into the chair as he grinds his cock into your mouth and moves your head up and down his length. You take the hand that isn’t playing with your clit and reach to grab at his balls, kneading them. A narrow breath trips out of his lips. “Nasty bitch. Fuck, baby. Daddy’s close. Keep – keep doin’ that.” You drag your tongue along that bottom vein again, kneading one of his balls and making sure that when he pulls you off of his cock, you treat the head to one final taste. 

“Open up, slut,” he coaxes. His cock twitches. He jerks himself once, twice, and then cums, rope after rope hitting your damp skin. His cum is hot, sticky, and you’re too preoccupied with trying to catch some of his release that your hand stalls over your cunt. You whimper when his cum lands on your tongue and follow it up by swallowing. Joel’s breath is unsteady as he looks down at you, cock softening in his lap. “Good girl,” he praises, reaching out to run his thumb along your stained skin. Drop by drop, he feeds you his cum, and you lap it up just as eagerly as you’d lapped him up. 

You pull your hand out of your bikini when he’s done, tacky arousal stretching between your fingers. Going back on your haunches, you suck in a deep breath through your abused throat. 

Joel pats his wide, thick thighs above you, the same ones you’ve been fantasizing about since that first day in the bar. “I promised you a ride, didn’t I?” A familiar, hooked smirk pulls at his mouth. Your face lights up in recognition and you practically scamper onto his thigh, stumbling as you tug your bikini out of the way to settle yourself on the linen coral shorts he has on. Joel laughs, a noise that has your cunt leaking onto the fabric, clit fluttering from the friction. Heat pulls tight in your stomach.

His hands land on your hips, guiding you back and forth when you hesitate at first. “Grind on daddy’s thigh, baby. Wanna see you cum on me.” Your head tips forward, forehead slotting against his shoulder when you start to push your hips into his. Need springs awake in your stomach when he drags you forward. A frayed moan tumbles out of you from his near-manhandling. You rut into Joel, bouncing, grinding yourself on him in the same way that you’d imagined yourself doing at least a dozen times before this.

“Daddy,” you whimper when the muscle goes taut underneath you, plucking something in your cunt. At the same time, a speedboat passes Joel’s yacht outside, leaving the ship rocking on the water in time with your movements as you ride his thigh. You yelp, a strained noise as the pressure intensifies on your clit. “Close!”

He grips your hips even tighter, bounces his thigh up against you. “That’s it, that’s it. Let it happen baby, give it to daddy.”

You come undone with the taste of his cum still rich on your tongue and his words ringing in your buzzing ears. Your orgasm whips through your body and leaves you shuddering against his center, halfheartedly continuing to roll your hips up against him. His thumbs rub circles into your skin while you come down. You suck in a shaky breath, Joel’s palm stroking the small of your back. “Did good for me, baby. Look real pretty when you come. Real pretty.”

You give him a shy smile, and he leans forward to kiss you, a brief moment of gentleness amidst his usually ubiquitous harshness. He pulls away with a tiny pat to your ass. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You stumble off of him on shaky legs, leaning against the captain’s console. Joel pulls his shorts down his thighs and tucks his cock away, the wet spot your cunt had made on him beyond visible as he stretches himself out. He fishes around in a drawer in the galley for his baby wipes and joins you back at the console. He takes them to your face, wiping down where his cum had hit your skin. He even dabs gently at your thighs. Orgasm bliss clings to the edges of your vision still, and you can’t help but lean into him as he takes care of you.

“Could take you for a real ride, now,” Joel says with a moderate shrug. “Nice cove on the west side of the lake, good for a quick swim. I’m sure your dad would throw a fit if he knew, but I’m sure you’re good at keepin’ secrets, too. Got a real good mouth on ya.”

You playfully punch his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, and in that moment, it feels like you’ve known Joel much longer than you have at all. Like this isn’t your first time on his boat, and this wasn’t his first time being in your mouth. “Alright,” you begrudgingly smile at him. “Whatever you say, old man.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he starts the engine.

[livwritesstuff]

The arrival of fall means the arrival of soccer season for the Harrington family. Soccer, as Eddie has learned, is kind of a gateway drug to the world of sports, the first sport their naive, impressionable youths are indoctrinated with, and all three of Eddie and Steve’s daughters are playing soccer in their town’s youth league this fall, even five-year-old Hazel now (she hates it; it’s probably also the very last time she’ll play too), so Eddie usually spends at least half of his Saturday at a local field watching his daughters’ games.

Steve usually volunteers to coach their daughters’ teams, except there’s another soccer-related first this year – Steve decided to take a step back from coaching Moe’s team like he’d been doing since Moe was in kindergarten, which means that he's actually on the sidelines with Eddie.

At one point during one of Moe’s games, things gets held up for a few minutes while one of the team moms argues with the coach. It seems to be about Moe, given the look of indignation on Moe’s face.

“Did you see what happened?” Eddie asks like he tends to whenever anything happens in Moe's games because they move pretty damn fast and he doesn't have an eye for this stuff like Steve does.

Steve shakes his head, “It’s Moe. Anything could have happened.”

It’s a fair point, honestly, and the coach shuts the whole thing down pretty quick and the game continues. Steve and his ear for drama didn't, obviously, and pretty much the second Moe’s game is over, Steve asks her, “So what was Mrs. Roberts all upset about?”

“I dunno,” Moe shrugs as she hefts her enormous soccer bag higher on her shoulders, “Apparently I said the C-word and she wanted the coach to take me off the field.”

Eddie feels himself freeze, feels Steve do the same beside him because, sure, their kids curse up a goddamn storm (no idea where they got that from) but everyone has their limits and Eddie’s pretty sure that he and Steve have never used that word – certainly not around their daughters, but not really ever (Nancy doesn't like it and they're all a little afraid of her still).

“I didn’t even know the C-word was a bad word,” Moe finishes.

“Okay,” Steve says slowly, something in his tone suggesting he’d rather be asking their daughter anything else, “Well, what…word did you say?

Moe shrugs, “I just said crap.”

Steve visibly relaxes beside Eddie as he does the same. Even still, Eddie can’t help but feel kind of perplexed even by that because, frankly, both Steve and Eddie usually bypass the sanitized expletives and head straight for the bigguns. It’s kind of crazy she didn’t go all in with the F-bomb whenever she got wronged on the field.

“Since when was crap a bad word?” Moe continues.

“It’s not,” Steve waves her off, “But…yeah, don’t use that one around Mrs. Roberts ‘cause she’s weird about that kind of thing.”

“Well, you already said I can’t say shit, so what can I say?”

“Well, you’re ten, so you can say nothing and survive the game totally fine.”

“That’s censorship at its finest, Papa,” Moe rolls her eyes.

“Darling, please don’t cite Dad at me.”

[totaly-obsessed]

Revelations

Katie McCabe x reader request

-> Katie and you watch Aine play football for the first time

-> 2 requests in one - I hope you like it!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

‘I want another one’ somehow happened quite fast and not even a year later – Aine was getting ready to be a big sister. Telling her didn’t quite go as Katie or you had planned…

“Baby in Mummy’s tummy!”

A deadly silence had fallen over the kitchen as your wife and you just exchanged glances, trying to figure out who had snitched, both convinced that it was not you.

“What do ya mean lovie?” Katie tried to act unknowingly but apparently forgot that Aine had gotten the sass from her.

“You need to listen better!” You could barely hold yourself up with how much you were shaking with laughter and the Irishwoman’s shocked face. “Watch ya tone, Missy!”

By now the young girl had attached herself to your leg, clawing at you for ‘uppies’ as she had once called it. When you finally caved and sat her on the kitchen counter, she was quickly joined by Cooper who nuzzled his head into her side.

“You’re right doll. There is a baby in Mummy’s tummy – you will be a big sister.” Both of you were curious about how the seven-year-old would react to the news, not even caring at this point how she had figured it out.

“Like Mama and Auntie Lauryn!” Cooper by now had enough of the excited bouncing, opting to leave and look for a pretty spot in the sun where he could nap until his small human companion would inevitably find him and smother him in pets.

“That’s right bub! What do you think of that?” Back was the tense silence, as Katie grabbed your hand, giving it a loving squeeze – this was much more terrifying than you had thought. At least you didn’t need to actually tell Aine the news, she had taken that upon herself.

The small brunette looked around the open kitchen and living space, her pigtails swishing through the air as she scooted closer to the edge of the countertop, getting her face right next to yours. Katie’s hands were ready in case she fell, which she wouldn’t but Katie would always worry. “Pssshh! Don’t tell - this was my biggest wish for Santa! And it came true!”

Your wife couldn’t help but laugh, kissing her daughter's forehead before hiding her face in the very familiar brown hair. “Well, Santa came early then, huh?” It was in the middle of November, but ever since last Christmas, the seven-year-old had started a wish list. “He did! Cause I wanted it so badly – and Mummy did too!”

This had gone over much better than you could have imagined, and for now, you were just fine with her thinking that Santa was the way her little sibling would find its way to her. “You’re right Lovie. Mummy and Mama wished for it really badly too.”

---

---

It was no secret that Aine wanted to be just like her Mama, so her playing football should really not come as a surprise to either of you but it turns out that seeing her little girl get accepted into the Arsenal U8s team was something entirely different.

The little brunette had tried out for them, just like any other kid (no matter what haters would say), and got accepted with no problem. At their age group, it wasn’t considered as ‘Academy’ training, but rather ‘Pre academy’, with two training sessions a week and ten games across the whole season. They also weren’t separated into a girls' and boys' team just yet, so the Arsenal U8’s was a mixed team that would compete against other fixed games and also just boys teams.

With spring break coming up, Aine’s first match was also coming closer and closer. Katie had never felt so many emotions. Seeing you at six months pregnant and now well rounded while her little girl went to training after training, each time coming home with a bigger smile.

“Look at this! You’ll look just like Mama!”

Katie really couldn’t hold her tears anymore – with you holding her hand Aine admired herself in the mirror, wearing her game-day kit for the very first time.

But instead of Katie's 15 on her back, she had a 10 – for Kim Little, the best Midfielder there was and your daughter's biggest idol, much to her mama's disappointment.

“You look so grown up, Doll.” Seeing your wife this emotional, and Aine so happy gave you the rest. Now both of you were bawling your eyes out while the little brunette hopped around the house, before running back with Katie’s phone in her little hands.

“Take a picture, Mummy! For Auntie Kim!”

In the picture you were holding the grinning girl in your arms, as she proudly kissed your tummy, refusing to properly pose as she wanted to show Kim her little sibling as well.

This was the best day yet for the young gunner. After all, she was going to be a big sister, so she had to be a good example and play good football – just like the grown-ups.

“Do me a favor, my love?” Aine stood in between her mother's legs when she finally composed herself a little. “Hmmm?”

“Grow up a little slower, will ya?”

---

---

Turns out preparing for gameday, and actually experiencing one, were completely different experiences – especially when it was a double game day.

Aine was already hopping through the house like an excited bunny when Katie made her way down the stairs to make breakfast.

The Irishwoman had kissed your forehead, gently waking you up with a mumbled “Mornin Love. Thirty minutes.” Before going downstairs. God was her morning voice attractive.

It was seven in the morning. On a Sunday. Entirely too early for a six-month pregnant you who had put a giddy child to bed, that didn’t want to sleep. But your wife was gracious, giving you thirty more minutes to wake up fully before helping her daughter bring breakfast in.

You could get used to this – a delicious meal in bed with your wife and daughter, although a little later would have been nice.

“Mummy, when do we have to go?” This was the third time Aine had asked in the last ten minutes, and every time either Katie or you had given her the answer but the small brunette couldn’t help herself – she was just too excited.

This was the fastest you had ever seen the seven-year-old get washed and dressed after breakfast. She was so fast, that she had gotten impatient with your much slower speed. Aine took it upon herself to get you dressed while you brushed your teeth while sat on the closed toilet.

“Foot please Mama!” You did as asked, picking up your legs off the floor so that your daughter could slip socks over your feet.

And with a quick zoom, she was in your bedroom again, just to return with wide, comfortable pants that you just knew that your wife chose. Instead of giving them to you, she threw them on the floor. “Step in please!” Good thing you were already wearing underwear, huh? As good as she could, Aine helped you get them up and over your bump, but not before giving it a kiss and whispering a small “Hi!”

It went like that until you were fully dressed and she pulled you to the hallway, where your wife helped you into shoes as you could barely see the ground anymore.

“Is this okay? I thought maybe I should have given her longer socks because it will be cold – but then we have a blanket so maybe you will get too hot an-“ Katie’s rambling was cut short with a passionate kiss. “It’s perfect – Thank you, my Love.”

“Let go, let go, let's go!”

---

---

“Now you know how it feels to watch you play!” Katie was tense as she leaned against one of the beams that surrounded the football pitch.

The drive here had gone by fairly quickly as Aine made sure to tell your wife all about her teammates. You had met most of them already during practice or while picking her back up again – the small brunette would always chat with anybody who would listen until you walked over to take her home. Her chattiness definitely came from your wife – but right now there was nothing in the world that could make the Irishwoman relax.

“She’s tougher than she looks, my Love.” By now you had taken the footballer's hand, rubbing calming circles on it in a desperate attempt to calm her down.

Aine was one of four girls on the pitch – two on her team and two on the other. The rest were all boys. And while you knew that she was feistier than she looked, much more like her mother than you, the size difference between her and some of the boys was terrifying.

“Oi Ref!” Your wife’s hand shot up when an opposing boy had clumsily taken your daughter down with him in an attempt to stop her from getting even closer to their goal. “That’s a free kick! Ref!” The guy refereeing the game didn’t see the incident at first, angering Katie even further – but when he did look over the first thing that he saw, was a tiny brunette shoving a boy at least a head taller off of her.

The shrill sound of a whistle agreed with Katie, and the Arsenal U8s were indeed allowed a freekick in a very good position for them, as your daughter had been very central on the field and closing in on goal.

Katie’s grip on your hand tightened with stress – she knew what she would do in this situation. But did her seven-year-old know it as well? They spent countless dinner conversations talking about football and plenty of different techniques, with impressive input from Aine, so she had to know what she was doing, right?

 And she did.

The brunette passed to one of her free strikers and started running through the masses. She was small, fast, and agile – and before the opposing team could blink, her striker passed back to her when she was standing directly in front of the goal.

“Yes! That’s my daughter!”

Katie couldn’t contain herself any longer – the ball had hit the back of the net with a surprising amount of force, their keeper jumping in the other direction, making this a perfect goal. Her first goal.

After high-fiving every player on her team your daughter sprinted over to where you stood and gave a quick kiss to your belly just like she had done earlier in the morning. “For you, baby!”

The match ended shortly after Arsenal's third goal, assisted by your daughter who once again looked at you and Katie, to see if you watched her – which you did.

One of the trainers had brought a box of mixed ice-creams and even though the young brunette wasn’t supposed to, she took three of them and quickly made her way to you and your wife.

“Don’t you wanna eat with your friends baby?”

“Nuh-uh. You are my best friends.”

Well, there go your hormones again as you couldn’t hold your tears at bay any longer. “I love you so much Aine. And you played so well.” The seven-year-old kissed your forehead much like Katie did, before ensuring that someone had recorded the game so that she could show Auntie Kim her goal.

“That was my first win for baby sister, Mommy! Now Mama needs to win tonight so it’s a perfect day!”

“Geez no pressure huh?” Everything was packed up now and the pitch was getting emptier by the minute as multiple parents made their way to their cars at the same time you did.

“Aine I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“What if it’s a baby brother instead?”

She was now buckled into her car seat, with Katie still at her door trying to work out something that has been bothering her ever since your daughter had announced that you were pregnant again. Neither you nor Katie have been told the gender of the baby, yet the youngest family member seemed sure that it would be a girl again.

“It’s not. It’s a baby sister.”

“How do you know that?”

You tried to watch their interaction as well as you could from your passenger seat. Your Wife’s eyes were wide with curiosity, something that you saw in Aine nearly every day.

“I just do.”

“You terrify me, Kid.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

To preface this, I know there are parts of this that make me look bad. I know. I've been a substandard boss and I should've taken care of the situation a long time ago. But I'm in a bind and I really just need to know if I'd compound my assholishness by doing the main thing I'm about to ask.

I manage a manufacturing business that also has a delivery component. We make the product and make sure it gets where it needs to go--which I'm sure you understand isn't as easy as it used to be, with Amazon and Temu and all of those nipping at our nose. The manufacturing sector is working fine, no complaints, absolutely shipshape. It's in deliveries where the problem starts.

We have a newer employee who...let's just say stands out from the rest of the bunch, who are mostly old guard. They're reliable, I've been working with them for years, but they're set in their ways and have been giving the new guy shit, especially over his appearance. It's not even about something he can control, poor kid, but I don't want to get more specific than that. I've been so swamped with getting everything ready for the holiday season that I dropped the ball and let them treat the kid pretty poorly. I know I can't dictate what they do outside of work, so them leaving him out of social events was out of my hands, but I've caught them calling him just awful things when they thought I wasn't around. I should've come down harder but I was afraid our productivity would suffer as a result. (And if I'm honest, I thought a little bullshit would toughen the kid up. Our industry isn't for the faint of heart, after all.)

But now we're down to the deadline and I think he's our only option. He's the perfect choice, and the kicker is it's BECAUSE he's different from the rest of the guys. But I'd feel like a bit of an ass if I asked him to swoop in and save us after the way everyone's treated him. WIBTA if I asked Rudolph, with his nose so bright, to guide my sleigh tonight? Time-sensitive question, sorry mod, but maybe just this once you can move it up the queue? After all, I did bring you that Pokemon game you wanted more than anything when you were ten!

What are these acronyms?

[archangeldyke-all]

No bc I keep thinking of modern Sev trying to get into the dating game because she wants to settle down and she gets on a dating app because Jinx had mentioned in a conversation with Silco and she ends up matching with reader,,, ahh it’s stuck in my brain

i changed this just a bit to make jinx even more of a shithead hehehe i hope u love it

men and minors dni

"aunt sevy." sevika rolls her eyes at the nickname she hates, and looks up from her book at jinx.

the girl's ten years old now, old enough to know just the right buttons to push to annoy sevika. and sevika's stuck on babysitting duty, because she's an idiot and agreed to be the shithead's godmother when jinx was still a harmless, quiet baby.

"what?" she grunts.

"why don't you have a wife?" jinx asks.

sevika groans. "did your dad put you up to this?" she asks. silco's been bothering her about the same thing lately.

"no." she says. "'m jus' wonderin'. when we have birthday parties and stuff, all the adults bring their boyfriends and girlfriends and wives. but you never do. why not?" jinx asks.

sevika tries her best not to kick jinx's shin. she manages, but not without flicking the kid's forehead.

the truth is that sevika's been asking herself the same thing lately. but she's realized that after so many years of emotionless hook-ups, she's got no idea how a relationship would even fucking work, and she's decided it's easier for everyone if she just... doesn't try.

"mind your own buisness." sevika grunts eventually. jinx studies her with those frighteningly inquisitive eyes of hers, before she smirks, turns on her heel, and runs to her room.

sevika's too relieved by jinx's disappearance that she doesn't even consider that the girl could be up to something.

three days later, sevika gets a call from silco at five in the morning.

"do you know what fucking time it is?" she groans into the receiver as she rubs her sleepy eyes.

"i'm sorry."

"what's so fuckin' important that you couldn't wait to tell me at work?" sevika asks.

silco's responding sigh is long enough for sevika's stomach to sink. "you should dress nice today. a suit, maybe, or at least nice slacks and a button up."

"why? do we have a meeting?"

"no." silco says. sevika waits for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. she huffs.

"silco what the fuck is going on?" she asks.

"you have a date tonight."

it's silent for a few moments. sevika tries to remember if she'd drunkinly given out her number to someone, or if silco asked her to butter up a client. she draws a blank. "...i do?" she asks.

silco sighs again. "jinx got the idea in her head that you need a wife, so she made you a dating profile."

"what?!"

"she's been cat fishing some poor person as you, and she's scheduled a date for the two of you tonight at seven."

"she what!?" sevika screams. her neighbor pounds on the wall that they share. sevika pounds right back. "silco, there is no way in hell i'm going on a date jinx set up for me."

"yes, i figured you'd say that." silco sighs. sevika's phone buzzes. "check your messages."

sevika pulls her phone away from her face and checks the new text sent from silco.

she gulps when your picture pops onto her screen.

you're... everything. if sevika was asked to describe her type, she'd have described you to a tee.

silco starts talking on the other line, and sevika blinks down at your picture one last time before pulling it back up to her face.

"fine." sevika grunts. she can hear silco's smile, and she huffs. "shut the fuck up. which suit should i wear?"

silco cackles on the other line.

sevika almost passes out when she meets you in person. you're stunning, and she's nervous, and she knows absolutely nothing about you even though it seems like jinx has told you everything about her.

it's only when you've ordered your dinner and are chatting over bread that sevika finally confesses.

"i have to tell you something." she mutters.

you pause mid-chew, your lame story about a fat squirrel you'd seen earlier today entirely forgotten at the sight of your gorgeous date's grimace. "don't tell me you're straight." you groan.

sevika cackles, and you relax a bit into your seat, smiling as you watch her catch her breath. "no!" she laughs. "god, no." she wipes her eyes. "i am very gay. and i find you..." she trails off, her eyes darting down to your lips for just a flash, before she blinks and shakes her head. "very attractive." she says.

you gulp, ignoring your sudden arousal. "so... what's the problem?" you ask.

sevika sighs and looks down at her hands. "you've been catfished."

you frown. "uh..." you study the woman in front of you. "you are sevika right? i mean... you look just like your pictures..."

sevika chuckles and shakes her head. "yes, that's me in those pictures. but you haven't been talking to me all week."

"so..." you're beyond confused. "who have i been talking to?" you ask.

sevika cringes. "my fucking shithead niece." she says.

relief floods your body. this isn't a scam or a fucked up prank-- it's a real date with a beautiful woman who's looking at you like she's expecting you to throw your glass of wine in her face.

instead, you burst into laughter. "you sound awfully fond of her."

sevika's stiff posture relaxes, and she huffs her own laugh. "she was cute before she could talk." she says, shrugging. you laugh even harder, reaching across the table to take sevika's hand and squeeze it as you try to compose yourself. "but now she's old enough to ask me why i'm still single and work a smartphone..."

"well, that explains why you had so many typos in your texts."

"oh, god." sevika groans.

"you misspelled 'restaurant' like five times."

"it's a hard word." she chuckles.

you pull the gorgeous woman's hand up to kiss her knuckles, and watch in fascination as all her worry and embarrassment melts away. "so." you say.

"so." sevika repeats.

"if you'd like to leave i understand, i won't be offended. i'm not sure i'd be into the dates my little cousins would pick out for me."

"no!" sevika shouts. she cringes as half the restaurant turns to look at her. you giggle. "no, that's not-- i really want to be here. i just-- i just wanted you to know that you weren't talking to me... you were talking to a ten year old."

it's quiet for a minute as you try to wrap your mind around the situation. so you'll have to re-introduce yourself to the woman in front of you-- that's fine. you're looking forward to getting to know her, and it seems like she wants to get to know you too.

you take a sip of your wine, then giggle when a thought occurs to you. "god, i'm so fucking glad i didn't try sexting with you." you say.

sevika bursts into surprised laughter, and she has to pinch herself to keep from launching over the table and kissing you.

(jinx never lets sevika live down the fact that she married the first person she picked out for her aunt.)

(jinx also officiates your wedding.)

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It was your wedding day, and Bradley realized he was getting everything he wanted... not just a perfect wife, but a perfect family of three. After exchanging vows and promises, you and Everett take him home, because there's something important you want to ask him. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"I can't believe you're getting married tomorrow," Molly said from the spot where she was lounging in the middle of your bed eating tortilla chips dipped in marshmallow fluff. "I remember when you married Danny. God, you looked fucking miserable that day."

"I was miserable that day. Young and stupid, too. Thanks for reminding me." You tried to take the bag of chips away as you said, "I hate crumbs in my bed. Can't you at least sit on the floor or something?"

She whined and reached for the bag. "It's not for me! It's for the baby. Now be a nice auntie and let me have my little snack."

You weren't sure of all the details of what had gone down. All you knew was Molly and Bob were still together, and she was keeping the baby. Apparently there had been some pleading on his end. Molly said he begged her not to leave him, and then he promptly told her about a million times how much the idea of having a child with her thrilled him. And slowly but surely, over the past few weeks, she seemed to become attached to the idea of being a mom.

"Fine," you sighed, handing her the chips. "Have your snack. But just remember, I'm not doing it for you."

"The baby thanks you," she said, rubbing her tiny bump as she shoved four chips into her mouth. "I wonder what the guys are up to," she said after she was done chewing.

"Watching the Phillies game. Or at least that's what Bradley texted me a few minutes ago."

"Give me your phone! You're not supposed to be talking to him! Bob was supposed to hide Bradley's phone under our bathroom sink. My god, I can't trust him to do anything right," she said with a soft smile on her face. She yanked your phone away and tucked it behind her back. "Now try on your dress one more time. Your tits look so good in it."

"I need you to zip it. Go wash your hands."

She rolled her eyes so hard, it was like she was fifteen years old again, and then she went into your bathroom like she was told. "What's it like living with Bradley?" she asked, moving his stuff around on the counter. "Does he like belch all the time and scratch himself?"

You started laughing as you tried to pull your dress on. "No! He's perfect. It feels like he's always been here. He takes care of almost everything for Ev, and he's actually quite tidy." You skipped over all the parts where you and he had been making love all over the house just because you could, but you did add, "I love having him with us."

Molly turned around and smirked as she came to zip your dress. "If I ever marry Bob, which I might not!" she said, cutting off your excited look. "If I do though, it'll be in the middle of a wildflower meadow just after sunset. And I'll make my own bouquet with the flowers beforehand. Oh, and I'll have to make sure Bob takes his allergy pills. But it'll be so dreamy."

You were gaping at her in the mirror as she zipped the dress. "Really?" you asked, flabbergasted. "That's literally nothing like what I thought you were going to say."

Molly sighed and made her way back to the bag of chips. "It's these fucking hormones. Fuck! I want to get married in the middle of some flowers now! What the hell?" She was wiping at her eyes as she told you, "Pull your dress down a little bit. I'm telling you, Bradley won't even be able to focus on the ceremony with your boobs looking like that."

"The ceremony is only going to be like ten minutes long. If that," you reminded her. But damn, she was right. This dress fit you very well. "Thanks for having an emotional breakdown in the middle of the dress shop and kind of forcing me to buy this dress after I sat on the floor with it on."

She smiled at you as she dipped a chip into the fluff. "That's literally what I'm here for."

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

The following morning, Bradley pulled up to Petco Park with Bob and Everett in the Bronco just as the sun started to warm everything up for the day. He was getting married in an hour and a half. He felt jittery, but he wasn't nervous. He felt warm, but he wasn't uncomfortable. He felt like everything was the way he never knew, until very recently, that he wanted it to be. 

"Ready, kiddo?" he asked Everett as he opened the back door. Everett scrambled into his arms and wrapped him in a hug around the neck.

"Yep!" he replied, and then the three of them were making their way into the Players Only Entrance where a security guard was waiting for them. "This is so cool," Everett whispered. The ballpark was basically deserted since the game didn't start until three o'clock, and they only passed a few other staff members as they entered the Padres locker room.

"Remember that fun tour we went on?" Bradley asked Everett as Bob held the door for them. He kissed his stepson on the cheek before setting him down on one of the benches. 

Everett muttered, "Yeah," as he looked all around the room in awe. "But we went in the visiting team locker room."

Bradley laughed and looked around as well. "We sure did, because we wanted to see all the Phillies gear."

"Can we all go to Philadelphia?" Everett asked.

"Well, Philadelphia made it to the short list of vacation spots when I talked to your mom. We'll work on her. We already got a Phillies room out of her."

Everett was smiling nonstop as the three of them changed into their baseball jerseys in the same room where the Padres players would be putting on their uniforms in a few hours for their game against the Rockies. Bradley checked himself out in the mirror. They all matched, more or less, in their white jerseys with gold stitching and letters. Molly had been in charge of ordering them from a small boutique shop. Everett's said GRAND SLAM on the back. Bob's just said BOB. And Bradley's said GROOM; he was a little surprised his didn't come back saying TURD-IN-LAW to be honest. 

When the security guard poked his head inside and said, "You can go out onto the field now," Bradley's heart started pounding. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he put his Phillies cap on backwards. Then he put Everett's on him backwards and picked him up again. 

"I love you, Ev," he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes. Bradley was in some ways more emotional about becoming Everett's stepdad than he was about marrying you. Because it was like a bonus. A little extra responsibility he never planned for. Falling in love with you was one thing, but this was something else entirely. Every time he looked at his kid, he saw innocent trust returned to him, and all Bradley wanted to do was make him feel safe and loved.

"I love you, Dad," he replied, like it was already the most natural thing in the world. And Bradley supposed it was. Because the two of them seemed to be cut from the same cloth. And Bradley was more than happy to step into the role of a father for this child.

When Bradley turned to Bob, he asked, "You have the rings?"

"In my pocket," he promised, and then the three of them were on their way. They walked quietly through the tunnel and out onto the turf. Everything smelled fresh, like grass and damp earth. Everett's head was on a swivel, looking all around, just like when they took the ballpark tour months ago. 

They were being waved over to home plate by John, their tour guide from that very special day. "It's nice to see you again," he said, shaking hands with Bradley. "I've just been informed that your bride is on her way up from the other locker room."

"Thanks," Bradley muttered, anxious to see you and be with you. He held onto Everett a little tighter as they waited, and he laughed softly. Somehow you managed to pull off this wedding, and the fact that Jake was the one who helped you do it was almost too funny.

"Hi, Mommy!" Everett called, waving his hand as Bradley whirled around to find you walking out onto the infield. A strangled noise escaped him as you made your way closer with a soft smile on your lips. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. It was the only word to describe the day and how he felt and how you looked with Molly holding the bunched up bottom of your wedding dress.

"Kitten," he whispered, feeling short of breath as you joined him on home plate. Your dress was simple but beautiful, and Bradley wasn't ashamed to admit that he couldn't stop glancing at your tits. But it was the smile on your face that had him grinning, too.

When you leaned in to kiss Everett's cheek, Bradley took your chin in his palm and tried to kiss you. "Stop it!" Molly screeched as she finished straightening out your wedding dress. Bradley froze as she added, "You're not supposed to kiss her until John says it's time! Have you never been to a wedding before?"

"I'm so happy I'm gaining not only a wife and son today, but also such a lovely sister-in-law," he told her in response. 

Molly smiled sweetly at him. "You should be delighted."

"Can we get married now?" you asked with a laugh, and Bradley set Everett gently down next to home plate. 

"It's the only reason I'm here," he promised, taking your hands in his. "To marry my beautiful Kitten and live happily ever after."

You smiled at him as he pulled you a little closer. Everett was practically standing between the two of you, so excited for what was to come, and Bob and Molly stood next to John.

"Ready?" When everyone nodded, John said a few words about how he was pleased that he could perform this short ceremony today after being the one who gave them the tour of Petco Park. He told them that they made him smile so many times that day as they interacted with each other. And then he asked if you and Bradley wanted to say anything to each other.

"I'll go first," you said, ducking your head for a beat before you looked Bradley in the eyes. "The first day we met...the first day of tee ball...I took one look at you interacting with Everett, and I thought maybe there was a small chance that it wouldn't have to be just the two of us forever." You let go of Bradley's left hand and smiled at Everett as you ran your fingers along his cheek. "Not that there was anything wrong with the two of us, Ev. You know that, right?"

Everett nodded and told you, "I know."

"We were so close to perfect. But Bradley makes us even better," you said, looking up to meet his eyes again. You studied him for a beat, and Bradley watched your eyes fill with tears. "It's hard to explain how you make me feel so confident, when at the same time, you make me feel like you'll be strong when I can't."

"Kitten," he whispered, wiping your tears as they fell. 

"I love you, Coach," you said with a soft laugh through your watery eyes that had him smiling and shaking his head. "You belong with us."

"I really do," he agreed. 

"Your turn," you whispered, and with a nod, Bradley knelt down in the dirt next to home plate, his jeans getting messy in the process. 

"Hey, kiddo," he whispered to Everett, loud enough that you could still hear him. 

"Hi, Dad," he replied, and Bradley wrapped him up in his arms as he started to cry.

"Thanks for letting me marry your mom," Bradley told him, his voice a little rough as he kissed Everett's forehead. "And thanks for letting me be your dad. I'm going to make some promises to you, okay?"

"Okay," Everett said with a little shrug that made Bradley chuckle. 

He wiped at his tears as he said, "I promise to play baseball with you in the park all the time. At least until your mom gets annoyed. And I promise we'll watch the Phillies together in Philadelphia, because it's the only way to see the Phanatic up close."

"Yes!" Everett said, clapping his hands.

"And I promise to help you with your homework and make you pancakes and collect baseball cards together. And we can do anything else you decide you want to do, okay? Because I love you, kiddo."

Everett hugged him again, and when Bradley stood and looked at you, he was crying in earnest. "Kitten, I love your son just as much as I love you."

"I know it," you whispered, crying as well. 

He took a deep breath and laughed. "Are you ready for your promises, Kitten?" When you nodded he took your hands in his again. "In front of Ev, Molly and Bob, and this immaculate turf at Petco Park, I promise I love you more than baseball."

You started laughing through your tears, and Bradley turned to see Molly wiping her own tears on Bob's jersey. 

"That's a lot of love," you told him, squeezing his hands. 

He nodded, pulling both of your hands so they were around his waist. "I promise I love you more than the Phillies. And I always will." He let his forehead come to rest against yours and said, "And if you'll let me be strong for you sometimes when you need it, then that's an honor, Kitten. Because you're the strongest person I know. But I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." Your eyes closed as Bradley's lips brushed your forehead and his hands slipped around your waist. "John, I'm ready to kiss my wife."

"By all means," he replied, "go right ahead."

Your hands were around Bradley's neck, nudging his backward cap and pulling him closer, and then he was kissing you while your little cheering section of four people went wild. 

"I love you," he promised against your lips, but you pulled him in for more with a smile. He brushed your nose with his and kissed you one last time. Then Bob was holding out one ring on each palm, and you let Bradley slip yours on before you took his left hand in yours. His ring looked perfect after you slid it into place. And then Everett was reaching for him, and Bradley scooped him up while you hugged your sister and kissed Bob's cheek.

"You're really my dad now," Everett said, letting his head come to rest on Bradley's shoulder. 

Bradley held him close. "I think I already kind of was."

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

The fact that your wedding reception consisted of ballpark food and cheap beer in one of the Padres' suites had you and Bradley smiling nonstop. The two of you had taken wedding photos while the park was still empty, and most of the shots were of the three of you.

"Could I interest you in some nachos, Kitten?" Bradley asked, stealing a chip as he handed you a tray.

"Thanks, Coach," you said, kissing his cheek. "You know, I don't think we give Bob enough credit."

"What do you mean?" he asked, dipping another chip into the cheese and eating it. 

"Well, we only met because he got you to coach the team with him in the first place. And he kind of let you bully me into being the Team Mom."

Bradley shook his head. "That seems like ages, not just just five months. You'd wear your little black skirt to practices and prance across the grass in your high heels. Fuck, you're so sexy." You giggled as he kissed you behind your ear. "And your tits look amazing in your dress."

"You can thank Molly for making me buy this one."

Bradley glanced toward where Molly and Bob were making out in the corner. His hands were all over the barely noticeable swell of her pregnant belly, and she was raking her fingers through his hair. "Nah, Bob's busy thanking her himself at the moment."

As more guests showed up just before the game started, you watched Nat squirt some ketchup onto a hotdog for Everett. And then you watched Bradley hold a napkin up while he ate it, just like he always did. The two of them were so shockingly similar, it was jarring at times when you remembered that Danny was Everett's biological father. 

"Talk about an upgrade," you whispered, taking a sip of beer before you went to greet Maverick. You barely watched the game, too busy chatting with your friends and kissing Bradley nonstop. But the Padres won which made Bradley and Everett happy, so it made you happy, too. 

And then by six o'clock, you had an exhausted seven year old son on your hands. He was crashing from all the snacks and the excitement of the day. "Time to head home," Bradley said, picking Everett up and kissing your lips. "And then we can send Ev off with my delightful sister-in-law."

You looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean? Ev's going to their condo for the night?"

"Two nights. I'm taking you to Palm Springs," he told you with a smirk. "We're having a real honeymoon now, and then I was thinking over winter break, we could take a family trip to Disney World?"

You threw yourself at him, and he collected you in his other arm. "That sounds perfect." You'd never been to Palm Springs or Disney World, but suddenly you wanted to go everywhere with him. 

"You said Philadelphia," Everett whined in Bradley's grasp.

Bradley kissed his forehead. "That'll be in the spring, silly. Gotta go when the Phanatic is active in his natural habitat."

Your heart pounded as you walked out across the parking lot to the Bronco. Because it turned out Molly had been keeping two secrets today: one for Bradley and one for you and Ev. You didn't expect to be this nervous, but here you were, barely able to get your seatbelt buckled around your dress.

Bradley was sweet and gentle, taking the buckle from your shaking hands. "Are you okay, Kitten?" he asked, the dying sunlight turning his eyes a deep amber. 

"Yes. Just can't wait to get home. Ev and I have a special wedding gift for you."

"Well, I can't wait either."

You bit your lip and looked out the window as you muttered, "Hope you like it."

Because Molly was the one driving her car, she and Bob got back to your house first. She was unlocking the front door so Bradley could carry Everett inside while he yawned. "We'll be out on the back deck," Molly said, taking Bob by the hand. "Let us know when Ev is all ready for his sleepover."

Now Bradley was the one who looked confused as they closed the back door behind them, leaving the three of you alone in the living room. "Ev's bag is already packed," Bradley said. "He can go with them anytime." 

"That's true." You felt too hot in your wedding dress now, thinking you might need to take a minute to yourself. But then Everett was climbing out of Bradley's arms and reaching for the box you'd stashed under the couch. 

"Can we give it to him?" he asked, looking up at you for permission with wide, innocent eyes. 

"Yeah," you whispered, running your hand over your chest, trying to calm the pounding of your heart. Your eye caught on the baseball covered in hearts that Bradley had used to propose to you where it sat on your mantle. He belonged here with both of you, and you wanted Everett to have every opportunity to live his best life. "We can give it to him."

Then Everett thrust the wrapped box into Bradley's hands, and you realized you were both staring at him. You reached for your son, pulling him closer to you as Bradley shook the box a little bit. "This is for me?"

"Yes," you and Everett said in unison, but now you felt like you were going to be sick as he started to rip into the silver paper. And then he was opening the box. 

A smile lit Bradley's face as he set the box aside and held up a Phillies jersey, examining the front of it. "I love it," he said, nodding his head. "But it looks a little small for me, doesn't it?" 

You pressed your lips together as you squeezed Everett's shoulder. "Look at the back," you told him, your voice a little shaky. 

Bradley turned it around and read it. "Bradshaw. But it's a child's size." When he met your eyes, you could barely see through your tears, and you even sensed that Everett was anxious now. 

"It's not for you, Coach," you informed him softly. Then you looked down at your son for a beat as you said, "It's for Ev. This is just our way of asking you if you'd like to be Everett's father. If you'd like to adopt him."

You watched Bradley's lips part, but no words came out. He was looking between the two of you in awe as tears seemed to fill his eyes. Then he read the back of the jersey again as he sobbed. "Come here," he whispered, kneeling down in front of Everett and tucking the jersey under his arm. "Is that what you want, kiddo?"

Everett wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck and said, "Yes."

Then Bradley looked up at you with tears in his eyes. "You'd let me?"

"Yes!" you said, now crying as well. "It's what we want."

He buried his face in Everett's neck and squeezed him. "Yes, I want to adopt you, Ev," he managed. As he stood with Everett in his arms, he kissed you and whispered, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

"We can do it soon," you told him, hugging him a little awkwardly as he held Everett. "I'll have my lawyer change my petition from child support to adoption. We can get new papers served. No more Danny. We don't need the money anyway. Not like we need you, Coach."

Bradley leaned down and kissed you. "First thing when we get back from Palm Springs, Kitten. Let's get this ball rolling. You won't have to worry about custody or Danny anymore. You won't even have to think about it. And I'll get my bonus," he told Everett with a grin. "A son to go along with my wife."

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

Married! Adopting Ev! Happiness! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 30

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[princesssmars]

holly jolly!

an abby anderson x reader based on my abby winter drabble !

wc : 15.718

contains : fluff, angst and smut . fxf relationship. fem!reader. switch! abby and reader. oral and penetrative sex. strap-on yippee. past abby x owen ewwww. owen hate bc i hate him and its funny. reader is a skier and abby does hockey! shitty dad for reader sorry girls. slight alcoholism sorry girls again. the reader is described as slightly tall i know yall been wanting taller readers. reader is kind of bitchy and abby loves it my fave dynamic (dynamic and pretty much the rest inspired by the little ruse go read it).

a/n : sorry i never got over my drabble guys. i dont know who exactly made hockey!abby but ive read em all so big creds to @angelkissiies @millersaurora @whatwouldsylwrite (and @eightstarr for calling abby princess) everyone else smoochies ily <3 made reader a skier because ive been obsessing over the olympics and i watched mollys game and thought it would be cool if i made a skier reader instead of a figure skater. ballerina next time if yall will indulge my delusions.

christmas has always been a bittersweet holiday.

you can remember the good parts from your childhood. picking out your first stocking with your mom. when your younger brother hid in the cupboard to try and catch santa. when your baby brother got cookie dough all over the kitchen, even on the ceiling. or when you were five years old and your dad gifted you your very first pairs of skis.

but it was hard to remember when the bad could get really bad. constant days spent out in the cold and snow, redoing your runs over and over until your legs burned and your back ached. your days that were supposed to be full of vacationing and fun instead filled with aches and falls and countless arguments once you realized you could start talking back.

some of the few friends you've had over the years tried to get you to focus on the good times and not the bad. that dwelling in the past wouldn't help you move forward. when you were younger you'd just call them assholes and move on, but recently it didn't seem worth the effort. that's probably why you started college with no close friends.

it was fine. you had your smarts, which helped you to get a full-ride scholarship when a skiing one fell through after a bad leg injury a few months back. because of that, your mom managed to convince your dad to get off of your ass for a while as you recovered. you had money thanks to your parents and you had your looks which would land you a hookup once in a blue moon.

you'd even made two acquaintances on campus, your roommate, tonya, who was pretty mellow and made sure not to bring the weed she smoked inside your dorm, and a girl named nora in one of your general ed classes whom you would partner up with often.

so yeah. it was fine. at least until the end of your freshman year.

you were running late for your ten am class, sleeping in because tonya had somehow managed to convince you to go to a small party with her last night and take body shots, and then when you were close to being drunk you saw one of your past hookups in the corner who you had dropped for getting way too attached way too quickly, so then you had to quickly find tonya and run back to your dorm-

youre in the middle of remembering ton's bird-like laugh when you nearly faceplanted into your front door when you ran full force into a hulking mass of a body.

the sound of them lightly cursing and asking if you were okay falls on deaf ears as you pick up your bag and hike it to your class, ignoring the stairs of the other students when you rush and plop into your seat.

luckily you manage to get yourself together afterwards, fixing yourself up at your dorm before heading to your next course with nora. as soon as you sit down she's teasing you about a video she saw of you getting wasted last night and you don't even have the energy to entertain her.

"well, instead of getting drunk off your ass again how about you join me tonight? one of my friends is on the hockey team and i got some nice ass tickets."

"c'mon, nora. hockey? seriously?"

"oh, im sorry ms. olympian, is hockey too good for you suddenly? just a bunch of women tossing a puck around too barbaric for you?"

"wait, you didnt say it was women's hockey."

"well, it is."

"..."

"..."

"what time does it start?"

at around five you're putting on a cute sweater and a puffer jacket before joining nora on the campus bus where she tries to quickly explain the rules of hockey to you in the span of five minutes. she asks how on earth you haven't been to one of the games or at least heard of the team's star breakout player. you have to carefully explain that you've had enough of sports to last a lifetime.

the indoor arena is packed, and you have to roughly squeeze and push multiple people out of the way to get by. nora starts laughing and tells you to leave the violence to the players and you brush her off. (for some reason she constantly loves to tease you.) when you both finally sit in your seats, you notice that they're behind the glass where the team players get out onto the ice and sit for breaks. nora suddenly bangs on the glass behind a player wearing an ANDERSON 20 jersey. the girl stands up and turns around and good god.

you weren't the shortest girl yourself, standing a couple inches over most girls you knew, but jesus she was easily almost six feet tall, and big, even if her jersey and gear probably made her look larger which really didn't help you focus. you liked the contrast of it with her face, bright, cute, and red from the cold as she talked to nora through the plexiglass. you were just about to admire the shape of her nose when her slightly unnerving blue eyes turned to you.

"hey, i recognize you!"

your brows pull in a deep scrunch.

"from this morning, you bumped into me and nearly knocked me on my ass."

"oh my god, i had a feeling that was you!" you hear the familiar noise of nora laughing at your pain. "jeez, how drunk did you get last night?"

"would you just- look, im sorry about earlier. i was hungover and rushing to class."

she smiles and shakes her head. "its chill, dont worry about it. nora, are you going to that party at derek's frat after? i swear he was begging me to come but i wasnt too sure."

"abby, everyone asks you to go to their parties and you never do! live a little." nora pauses before wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

you knew she was about to say something to piss you off.

"even little y/n here is gonna come and properly apologize to someone for once. isn't that right, hun?"

great.

"well, that wasn't my plan for tonight. at all." you say before picking up your giant hockey-themed plastic cup and taking a sip, hoping the chill of your slushie numbs out the rest of this conversation.

abby adjusts some of her straps and her helmet before resting her hand on the glass, noticing how the rest of her teammates are getting ready to go out on the ice. "well, i'd really like to see you there. is there any way i could convince you to come?"

"i don't know, is there?"

"how about... when i win, you come to the party with me."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes so hard they hurt. leave it to nora to be friends with the walking cliche of an arrogant sports player. you could've been spending this moment in your dorm watching a dumb hallmark movie about a businesswoman falling in love with a farmer while eating chips and drinking a self-indulgent capri sun.

"and if you lose?"

the announcer over the loudspeaker called for the game to start and the players started making their way onto the ice. abby winks at you before turning around and joining the rest of her team.

"trust me, i won't."

you scoffed and flopped back into your hard seat, sucking almost angrily at the bright red straw in your slushie to ignore nora's look.

"are all of your friends that annoying?"

"kind of. thought you'd enjoy it though. birds of a feather."

not bothering to entertain her, you focused on the game that was starting in front of you.

you could understand the basics of the game; one team had to get the puck into the other goal several times until they won. you had a brief understanding of some of the other rules, mostly because your father explained every winter olympic sport to you in great detail when you were twelve. it became so boring at one point that you fell asleep and banged your head on the coffee table, startling the both of you so much he decided to let you go to bed.

but as the game goes on you have to admit that anderson is frighteningly good at what she does. she moves gracefully and quickly on the ice, so well you think to yourself that if she ever tires of hockey she could seriously pursue ice skating, but when an opposing player gets too aggressive with her she returns it with force. she's like an avalanche on skates.

when the game ends you can't tell whether you're shocked or agitated. your team won in what nora called a 'total fucking landslide', the bright 6-1 lighting up the scoreboard like a smack in the face. it felt slightly awkward that everyone around you was yelling and celebrating while you were sitting statue still in your seat.

nora could probably sense your discomfort and gently pulled you up, telling you that the both of you could throw your things away before meeting up with some more friends of hers before heading to the party.

so awesome.

her friends were nice enough, a psychology student named leah and her boyfriend jordan who was some type of biology major. they seemed happy to meet you but happier to make googoo eyes at each other and go to the party, which meant you most likely wouldn't see them again once you got there unless you stumble upon the two in a hallway closet or bathroom. there was also mel, a nursing student who seemed slightly closed off but agreed with you when you mentioned this party would probably be loud and gross. a bunch of athletes celebrating a win is a recipe for disaster.

"finally, the campion herself arrives!" jordan cheers and raises his bag of chips up to abby who's walking up to your group, wearing a simple college sweatshirt and some black sweatpants. for something so basic she makes it look good, and if you didn't have any integrity and weren't pissed off about this party bet thing you'd tell her so. but you are pissed off and still have about half of your integrity, so you keep your mouth shut.

when she bumps into your shoulder with a 'told ya i'd win' you're about to reply with a snarky remark when a tall man with dark blonde hair and another with tanned skin and brown hair come up beside her and raise her up on their shoulders, chanting 'anderson, anderson!' on repeat. you look to nora who just rolls her eyes and tells you that she'll introduce you in the car.

you're all split into two cars, with you riding with the two strange men along with abby and nora. they tell you the guysin the front seats are owen and manny. also that they've all known each other since they were teens which definitely doesn't make you feel like an outsider. but manny keeps trying to joke around with you so you don't feel too awkward which you can appreciate. even if you don't really laugh.

when the car stops at a giant white frat house you arent surprised in the slightest. you were about to prepare yourself for another night of drinking and finding another hookup when abby throws her arm over your shoulder and decides that she likes you enough to spend most of the night by your side.

she walks with you to get drinks and then leaves to go celebrate with some other friends while you sit and nurse your drink for a while. it leaves you some time to think, asking yourself why you're acting like you're trapped here when you could just leave whenever you want, but you don't understand why you don't. maybe it's because you'll use any excuse to have a good reason to drown out your problems with alcohol. or because you're lonely but don't feel like admitting it.

after around half an hour she comes back and sits on one side of you while you talk to nora and joins in. she asks about your major, if you're from seattle, and how you met nora. after a while you stop rolling your shoulders when she asks a new question and settle into conversation with her. and after a few hours you learn more about her too, that her dad is a neurosurgeon and she's following in his footsteps with her pre-med major, but that as soon as she tried hockey she knew she wanted to do it forever. she tells you that she doesn't really like drinking, she knows most of the people on the other women's sports teams, that she used to date owen-

you choke on a sip of your vodka and nora pats your back with a chuckle. you were definitely off your game tonight. but besides that hiccup you have to admit talking to them is enjoyable. even their friend manny comes over and dares you to do shots with him and you were seriously about to do it before the girls talked you out of it.

over the next few weeks, you talk more and more to the anderson girl, to the point where you're staying up at night to talk to her over the phone and waking up to your roommate giggling in your face. once she was so tired after a game she started snoring and you would not let her forget it. just like she wouldn't let you forget the time you got wasted at a sorority party, got on top of the kitchen island, and danced to a city girls' song before she set you back on the floor.

you wouldn't ever admit it out loud, hell you had barely admitted it to yourself, but you had started to catch feelings for abby. there was nothing more mebarrasing and cliche to you than falling for your straight friend, and you really didnt want to be on eof those girls who did so. but in your defense, it was really hard not to. she was annoyingly pretty, lord knows how many times youe admired the freckles dusting her cheeks down to her shoulders. she was strong and smart and every other positive character trait your brain could conure up.

but the worst thing was just how nice she was to you.

in hindsight, the way everything fell into place was honestly the dumbest thing ever. you were at a county fair leah had heard about and asked you to come with her along with jordan and abby. obviously, the couple went in their own direction after a while, which left you and abby to wander around getting on the different rides and getting your reaction to abby eating her first-ever funnel cake. but then it was later, and the two of you had stopped at one of those rigged pop up games and you bet her twenty bucks that she wouldn't win, and if there was one thing you knew about abby it was that she took bets very seriously, so when she won and had to pick her prize you were a little confused when she picked your favorite animal and handed it to you.

when you asked her how she knew it was your favorite, all she could say was 'you said they were cool a few times and they're your profile picture on your private instagram, so i just put the pieces together.'

you went home and didnt talk to her for a week. or at least you tried to, because after a weekend of ignoring her calls and convincing tonya to bring you meals from the lunch hall the blonde girl banged her fist on your door and basically demanded you tell her what your problem was.

"i don't see what the big fucking deal is. i'm allowed a little bit of space from you, abigail."

she scoffed and you could see her tongue bunch in the corner of her mouth before her body pushed past yours until she was standing in the middle of your room.

"i'm not saying you can't have space and you know im not. i mean, one second we're having a good time together and then you just shut me out for no reason. if i did something wrong i need you to tell me. i can't read your damn mind, y/n."

sometimes it feels like you can, you think with a snort, feeling slightly embarrassed by the angry look on her face. you collect yourself and cross your arms over your chest. "i just don't feel like talking to you right now, so if you could please get out now-"

"nope. not gonna leave until you tell me what's wrong."

sometimes you could forget just how damn stubborn she was. it mostly popped up on the ice, and you had once overheard her coach say that if she wasn't such a great player she'd be benched most of the time.

"do you realize how annoying you're being right now?"

"don't care."

"i don't give a shit if you have muscles, i can still kick your ass."

"i'd really like to see you try, princess."

you groan and cover your face, but not before raising them in a choking gesture. you walk backward and sit on your bed, trying to take a breather before anderson follows you and resting on the ground in front of you, her large palms smoothing up and down your thighs.

"please, y/n, just...just tell me what i did and i'll fix it, i promise."

you've never been one to cry. or maybe you had been when you were a young child before your father taught you that 'crying doesn't achieve success, at least not the kind you want.' but you can see how much abby cares about you in her eyes and you know that despite you being unreasonable she'll put up with it anyway. your eyes start to sting and you rest your head in the crook of her neck.

she doesn't force you to say anything more than you want, rubbing the expanse of your back while another hand gently pats your head. after a long minute, you pull your head up and find that the space between your two faces is almost nonexistent, your eyes dart from her eyes to her lips, and before you can say anything else her hand is on the back of your neck and she's bringing your lips down to hers.

its soft and sweet and her lips are soft and feel like heaven against yours, and she doesn't give you a second to be confused about what's happening because she's making the kiss deeper and pulling your body closer to hers by putting her arms under yours and pressing you in by the back of your shoulders. you throw your arms over her shoulders and behind her neck and decide that you're going to enjoy this moment for as long as you can.

but eventually, you need to breathe, pulling your head back and letting out a shaky breath of air when abby just moves her ministrations to your neck, sucking and biting on the skin until it bruises.

"i..i thought you were straight." is all you can manage to voice, the feeling of her body pressed into yours and her teeth nipping at your neck making your mind hazy.

she laughs and kisses your neck a few times before looking you in the eyes. "well, i never actually said i was, you just assumed so."

"seriously? you dated owen? he's the dullest straight girl choice i've ever met. and we live in washington" you scoffed.

"yeah, well. that was a long time ago. i've moved on to bigger and better things."

she plants a big overdramatic kiss on your cheek, repeating so on the other side of your face until she can see your smile and hear you giggle. when you both calm down a little she backs up and wears a more serious look on her face.

"i care about you. more than i've cared about anyone before." she smiles, her thumb rubbing over the back of one of your hands. "except maybe my dad, obviously. and nora, she was kinda my best friend before you. but you get what im trying to say."

you laugh and nod at her. "i understand. i...like you too. a lot."

"geez, you're seriously emotionally stunted. but i'll take what i can't get, you'll warm up to me eventually." she slaps her hands on your thighs, ignoring the annoyed look on your face before scooching your body up until you're laying down on your bed, her body gently flopping down onto yours.

"abby! get the hell off, you're wearing your outside clothes!"

"cmon, just five more minutes."

and as much as you complained during those five minutes, you both knew you didnt mind that much.

after that things were really nice. at least for the most part. you were officially abby's girlfriend, which she had asked if you wanted to be the day after you two semi-confessed your feelings. she knew that this kind of commitment was new to you, and the last time it didn't go so well for her, so you both decided it'd be best to take it slow.

(slow meaning you did everything you two did before with the added bonus of making out whenever you wanted. you weren't complaining.)

but keeping things on the down low was a bit of a struggle. abby was a huge fan of pda, always found hugging one of her teammates after a successful game or cuddling with someone on movie nights. she would hug you when you were just friends, but now that you were comfortable with her touching you more in private it started to bleed into public life, her hand looking for yours when walking around or giving you a kiss on the cheek after you aced another test.

the next problem was your friends. you had told nora over a late night phone call while manny had found out when he had walked into the living room of his and abbys shared dorm and found the two of you with your shirts off and kissing on the couch, shouting in both spanish and english about how his eyes burned but he was happy for you both.

you both knew you could trust the two of them with your 'secret', but you didn't expect that end-of-the-year party owen and manny decided to invite you both to.

it was a mix of things really. you were going to just spend time with your friends and nothing more, but you were feeling really pent up. when you and abby decided to take things slow, that also meant sex. which at first was all right with you, hookups were a lot different than sharing yourself with someone you really cared about. but abby was just so effortlessly hot, and now since hockey season was over she had more time to spend with you and it was driving you up the damn wall. it got to the point that you found yourself nearly always on the brink of an orgasm when after a long day she'd press you into her bed and kiss you until you felt dizzy.

so when she decided to go to the party in a tight long-sleeved top and a normal pair of jeans, you definitely should not have been all over her as you were.

(to be fair. she was also on you like white on rice. you had decided to don a tube top with a mini skirt, figuring it couldn't hurt to dress up a little for a simple party. especially since it made your girlfriend look at you like she wanted to eat you alive.)

after mingling a bit and getting yourself a drink, you meet up with some of your friends and start to talk to leah about some drama in one of her classes when abby rejoins you, moving your body so your body is resting into hers. you aren't used to such a public display of affection, but this alcohol is blurring any desire you had to hide that she was yours and you were hers.

"god, you guys are so cute together it makes me sick." nora laughs into her red solo cup, shaking her head at your adorable but annoying affection.

leah's eyebrows scrunch up and she starts to pinch at your arm. "wait, am i missing something? you two are dating?"

at that point, some other people were listening in and looking in at the two of you, including none other than owen moore. now, you and moore were always cordial, but you wouldn't call him a good friend like you would the others. you always felt that whenever he saw or heard about you abby spending time together or heard about how close you two had gotten so quickly, he would smile silently while staring at you like he wanted to burn lasers through your brain.

and he was doing the exact same thing now, his grip on his bear so tight you feared the glass would break. somehow you were the only one who noticed.

"yes, we're together. finally managed to convince this one that jocks aren't just big dumb idiots a few weeks ago." abby's talking breaks you out of your thoughts, her arms snaking around your waist and pulling you to sit on her lap.

you cant help but roll your eyes. "i never once said that."

"well you were thinking it. i could tell."

some of the people who you didnt know and who were friends of friends said congrats, how cute they thought the two of you were, etc. it kind of weirds you out to have all these people paying attention to you just because of who you were with, but abby's quips to any weird remarks you didn't want to acknowledge made you feel better about anything.

but later on, when the two of you are unseriously dancing in the living room, owen comes over and asks abby to talk in private, leaving you to dance with some girls you recognized from the last party. but after three songs pass and abby still hasn't come back, you get a weird feeling in your chest and decide to go looking for the two. you head upstairs and down a few hallways before you hear two voices in a heated argument, and after numerous visits to her games, you can recognize abby's yelling anywhere.

before you can knock on the door to ask if something is wrong, it opens and you see a red-faced owen, not even saying anything before he knocks into your shoulder and goes back downstairs, clearly ignoring your call of 'fucking dick' to his back.

you scoff and shake your head, turning back around to say something to abby before you slightly step back at the look on her face. its dark, like if owen didn't leave she would have kicked his ass first, and now it's trained at you. you know she'd never hurt you, though. partially because she cares about you too much, and partially because you always keep a taser in your back pocket whenever you go to a party.

"abby? what's wrong? did he fucking say something to you?

she laughs before grabbing your arm and pulling you into the room, shutting the door behind you and locking it. her long legs take seconds to reach the bed, her arm releasing when your body sits and bounces slightly on the bed as she stands above you.

"its...its nothing, just owen being a dick like always."

her voice is strained and her hands are tensing into fists, telltale signs that she was really pissed off. you hold her hands in yours, pressing little kisses to her knuckles. normally you hated being so sappy, but you knew that being cute with her was a quick way to calm her down.

"don't worry. i can guarantee one of these days someone is gonna kick his ass. unless i do it first, and you know i want to." you joke and smile when she laughs, gripping her hands so she can sit on the bed next to you.

"yeah, youre right."

"im always right. you should learn that if you wanna stick with me."

she shakes her head before looking at you in silence, and you feel your face get hot under her gaze. you'd never admit it to her but seeing her so angry really did something for you. the bottom of your leg rubs against hers, and her eyes dart down before trailing up your legs to the point where your skirt is starting to ride up your bare thighs.

"here, babe? seriously?"

you sigh, figuring she was right and having your first time together in some stranger's house during a party was horribly tacky. you start to move your leg before she grabs it and puts it on the bed before grabbing you and resting you in her lap.

"i didn't tell you to stop."

so yes, you did get tacky in a strangers house. and back in abby's dorm. and again after you both showered.

so if there was one thing you could ever thank owen for, it was finally giving you both the push you needed to take the next step in your relationship. but after that night things were a little strained, as abby and owen were on a no-contact basis, their fight having something to deal with them and maybe you although she wouldn't go into details, which just led to this drama also spreading to mel since she was dating owen and was always pretty neutral when it came to you and tense when it came to abby, and mel was close friends to leah who was now close to you and...

it was complicated.

but you were used to not having people around. you had abby, nora, manny, and tonya, and that was all you really needed. speaking of tonya, you don't think you've ever seen anyone as happy for someone else's relationship as you did when you told tonya that you and abby got together. she said it was 'half happy that you found someone for you and half happy that someone will finally get the stick out of your ass.'

but your bliss was partially broken when your mother called a week after you had your last finals to let you know she and her father were going to be visiting seattle to talk to you about something important. at this point you hadn't talked to either of your parents since winter when your dad had not so discreetly told you he would be on your ass about skiing again as soon as your leg was alright again. and you were definitely going to dread every minute you had to spend trying to cordial to them, don't even mention finally introducing them to your girlfriend who you so far had never told them about.

for a few days after the call, you must have been acting weird because abby could tell something was wrong and took you to a relaxing little cafe she had found when she first got to the city. you're sipping on a milkshake while abby does the same across from you, digging into her stack of blueberry pancakes, waiting for you to tell her what's going on while she talks about her schedule now that school is out.

"manny's gonna be gone for a month because of his music internship, so i was wondering if you wanted to come and stay at mine while he's gone. we can watch movies, dance to music, or we can practice those recipes i saw on tiktok."

"mhm, that sounds nice, babe." you continue to at least show minimal attention to what she's saying, briefly slurping at your shake until she speaks again.

"yup. but after that, i might have to leave for a while, i haven't seen my dad in forever and he wanted me to stay for two weeks while my aunt is visiting salt lake."

her words slowly die out when she notices how you stop slurping your drink, your eyes staring into space as your thumb scratches at your palm.

throughout your relationship, you had told abby the rundown of your relationship with your parents maybe once. at first, it was because it was a touchy subject and you would be embarrassed if she knew the reason for the way you acted the way you did and thought your baggage was too much for her.

and then it was because deep down you were jealous. they had their ups and downs, but abby had such a pure relationship with her father that sometimes it made you sick. while he didnt flaunt his wealth because of his principles, but abby would tell you about all the times when she was younger that her dad would give her the best birthday parties, take her with him to conferences around the world, and made sure she had anything she desired.

so when you had to tell her that the most your dad did was give you a break to be a normal adult instead of shaping you into a champion, you don't think there was ever a time that you secretly envied her more.

"this is about your dad, isn't it?" she whispered, reaching across the table to take your hand in hers. you nodded, relieved that your girlfriend could read you like a book and you didnt have to say it out loud.

"could you tell me more about it?"

shit.

you sighed, a deep breath leaving your body and clearing your head.

"my parents are gonna be here soon. said they wanted to talk to me about something "important", which means my dad thinks i've had enough time to recover from my leg being nearly snapped in two because he thinks he knows better than the doctor. but hey, maybe when i was gone he got another fuckin degree to throw in my face."

while you ranted abby never said a word, just paying close attention and providing you comfort. out of everyone in the crew, she was always the person people went to talk to when they needed it. she said it was something she got from her mom.

"all my life he's been like this. just pushing me and pushing me until im at the point of breaking until i use my anger to win. there's no doubt he's still doing it. heard my brother is being scouted at his games and he's only fifteen."

abby nods and presses a kiss to your hand, treading carefully with what she says next. "your dad sounds...horrible, honestly. he never...hit you did he?"

you feel your body jerk back and both of your eyes go big at your reaction.

"no, no he would never. im serious. wouldn't make sense from a logical standpoint, id be in front of other people all the time and any injuries would fuck up my skiing."

"well that's a bleak way of looking at it, but im glad he didnt. but the other shit is still bad."

"yeah. definitely not looking forward to dealing with that again in two weeks."

"i know, but im here, and im gonna stick by you every step of the way, alright? even if your parents find out they hate me and curse my bloodline."

you couldn't help but snort at her. "nobody could hate you, anderson. you would annoy them too much and make dirty bets against them."

"what? that wasn't a dirty bet! you'd just never seen my skills before and i used it to my advantage."

"whatever you say abs."

abbys reassurance and patience helped greatly, and by the time you met your parents at their hotel for breakfast, you weren't nervous about whatever bullshit they had to say.

but for some odd reason, they were very cordial. your mom asked you about school, how your grades were, and how you liked your chosen major. when it got to the point if you were seeing anyone, you not so subtly gushed about abby and she seemed really happy for you. your dad even praised you for picking another sportsman, avoiding your look while he ate his eggs.

a week later you even had the courage to introduce them to abby, who told you she would cook something for all of you to eat.

that tiktok recipe she was talking about? it was ratatouille. and you had to admit it was delicious, and you wondered how abby was so good at so many things and she told you when she was a kid she wanted to learn how to do basically everything and her dad was more than happy to indulge her. sometimes you really wondered how she didn't appear to be so spoiled.

but your girl was nothing if not a charmer, and by the end of the night your mom was gushing over how much she liked abby and thought she was a great match for you.

your dad was...your dad. he acted polite, asking abby about her intentions, if she was dedicated to her studies and sports and you at the same time. blah blah blah. abby gave perfect human resources-like answers that she knew would make you giggle and loosen up.

once dinner was over your mother insisted on staying a little while longer to watch a movie, finding out she and your girlfriend both had soft spots for mamma mia and grease and planned to drink some wine and let loose for once. while the two were watching meryl streep panic on screen your dad tapped you on the shoulder and asked if he could speak to you in private, and you were mentally prepared to get into yet another argument.

"i know i'm the last person who gets to say this but..you've seemed to have really grown this past year. I'm proud of you."

"thanks. i guess."

he sighs, shifting on his feet. "i know i've always been hard on you and your brothers. i just-i knew that if you had guidance you could be phenomenal at whatever you do."

"yeah, dad, but that doesn't mean forcing me to train for ten hours a day when i was still in third grade." you could list more instances of him being overbearing and partially ruining your childhood, but you don't feel like being the person who makes the conversation go sour.

"i know. trust me, i know. look, your mother has us going to a shrink and...one of the steps is asking for forgiveness and whatever mumbo jumbo."

you almost snort but pass it off as a sneeze. your dad in therapy was about as believable as a talking donkey.

"well, it's nice to hear dad but it's not gonna be just as easy as being nice to me and my girlfriend for a night."

"i know. which is why i wanted to show you this."

he pulls out and his phone and after a few taps shows you an article. you read the word 'olympics' and nearly blow before he cuts you off.

"just listen, alright? one of the big coaches was caught and fired for doping a bunch of the players, so they're postponing the winter games for another few years for investigations to see if there's any more misconduct."

"are you serious?"

"deadly. and i know with your leg and your schooling you'll have your hands full but, i figured the best way i knew how to bond with you was to help you. it'd be enough time to get extensive physical therapy and train up. but only if you want to."

"dad, i. i really don't know what to say."

"you don't have to say anything, at least not now. just promise me you'll think about it, alright? and if by next spring you still don't want to, I'll never bring it back up again."

after that, your mother comes and says they should get going to get enough sleep for their flight tomorrow, and you bid your parents goodbye with stiff hugs and a genuine smile.

for the next few months into your sophomore year your on the fence. when you were a kid, despite the pain and the tears and the bruises, there was nothing you loved more than skiing. you swear that the adrenaline rushes you would get speeding down slopes were better than anything you've ever experienced, even sex.

(when abby heard you say that one night on the couch, she pouted and wouldn't touch you for a week, telling you to go back to those stupid slopes if that's how you felt.)

but the point was that you were basically going through a beginning life crisis. either stick with the new normal you've created and potentially miss out on fulfilling your childhood dreams, or take a risk and potentially come out more damaged than before.

you were planning on spending the next thanksgiving mulling it over, but to your shock baby invited you to come with her to her dad's house for thanksgiving with her family. when checking in with her to see if she and her dad would be ok with this big step, she told you it was actually her dad's idea and she'd be more than happy to have you meet her family.

you swear to god you have never been more nervous on a plane than you were on the flight to salt lake, only being soothed by the constant free drinks you get in first class, the six hundred page book in your hands, and abbys large hand constantly rubbing on your thigh and back. you suggested that you both join the mile-high club as a joke and she seemed a little too into it.

"babe please, i promise ill be quick. i can even put my fingers in your mouth."

"abby, i was just joking. im not gonna do that and get kicked off the plane. god, you're so fuckin weird."

"you make me weird. pretty please? ill pull out the puppy eyes."

"i really don't give a fuck."

and you come to find out that abby's stories were true because her dad is so weirdly nice. he greets you at the airport like he's known you all your life, and is eager to find conversation the whole drive to his house where you both are staying.

you were glad that like you abby had a smaller family, or at least one she spent thanksgiving with. after her father you only had to introduce yourself to her aunt and her small family, a husband who you have to look down at and likes to boast about his coin collection, and three children. the eldest, ashley, was closer in age to you and abby and was clearly abby's favorite cousin. the middle child was a wild child named kris, who didn't seem at all phased that you were a stranger and kept asking you if you'd ever heard of their favorite anime series.

now, you've never been the best with children, you repeatedly told your mother to throw your baby brother in the trash when you were six, but you couldn't help but fawn over abby's baby cousin lyle, the cutest infant you've ever seen who after a few hours of fussing because of the time change, he calms down into a smiling drooling little thing who, although he keeps tugging at your hair when his mom hands you to him, seemed to actually enjoy your presence and laughs like its the funniest thing ever.

you didnt catch the way abby looked at you fondly while you were playing around with her cousin or the way she swatted her father away when he called her out on it.

so thanksgiving was easy, a peaceful week full of meeting kind people and eating some surprisingly good food. but you didn't even get a week of peace after before abby brought it up.

christmas.

yes the holiday was full of joy and warmth when you were a child. but after a mini teenage rebellion and your energy you just...gave up on the holiday completely. last year you spent it alone inside your dorm which wasn't the worst thing on earth. you got to watch corny feel-good movies like national lampoons, drink hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, and had free reign to the library since the librarian apparently used to watch your games on tv. it wasn't like it used to be, but it was enough.

"so, you're coming with us to the cabin right?" nora reaches across the library table and takes one of your fries from the fast food you sneaked in. for some reason she refused to order her own fries, content to pluck the ones from your container.

"what? what cabin?"

"god, abby hasn't told you about this by now? i thought she would have taken you there already and made it her love shack or something." she quickly ducks her head when you toss a burnt fry at her, looking around to make sure no one saw. "it's her dad's cabin at one of the ski ranges in the mountains, she invites us every year for christmas break or new years if we can't make it."

"first, you're a perv. second, i don't know why she hasn't told me about it. id probably tease her for it anyway."

"well when you see her next ask her, because you definitely have to come with us this year."

"i don't know, nors. you know how i feel about skiing right now..."

"you don't have to ski! we literally never do, as sad as it is. we just hang out, go out for drinks, and hit the skiing town. im telling you cold resort parties are insane."

you take a minute to mull it over, staring into space as you tap your fingers on the hardwood table. nora fingers tap on the top of your hand.

"i understand you're going through things, with your dad and all. you don't have to come if you don't want to. but i know we'd really enjoy it if you came, especially abby."

you nod and eat another fry before gegging back to the novel you were reading, some 'all-time classic' abby had said you had to read.

you saw abby a few hours after that, yet again staying the night at her dorm to kick off the following weekend. when you entered using your spare key the smell of chinese food instantly hit you, and it took you by surprise since abby normally insisted on cooking for you and manny.

you set down your things and kicked off your shoes before heading into the little kitchenette, hearing the sound of rather loud whispers that stopped as soon the roommates saw you, noodles stuffed into both of their mouths.

"what the fuck are yall starin at?"

manny snorts before making some weird excuse for leaving, telling you he's meeting up with some meteorology student at a bar and he won't be home until tomorrow. you bid him. a quick goodbye before turning back to abby, the blonde picking through her food.

its only then that you notice the gauze wrapped around her palm, quickly cross the threshold to gently but firmly raise her hand up to your face to observe it.

your about to go on a triade when you see that sad pout on her face.

"tell me who did this to you." you grumble, putting on a fake deep voice.

she chuckles and shakes her head. "you're so weird."

"only because of you. tell me what happened."

"i was trying to cook before we ordered takeout and i just...got distracted and burned my hand. its not a big deal, don't worry about it."

you tell by the way her shoulders were tensing that she was getting into one of her moods, always hating when she failed at something and hating even more when people kept asking her about it.

"well im always gonna worry about, something that's also your fault by the way. what made you distracted."

"nothing."

"abs."

"please just drop it."

"abigail."

she groans before slumping her head into her arms on the counter.

so you decide to drop it. at least for a little while. you put away the rest of the food, deciding to eat the box she bought for you after her mood had been resolved before figuring you'd leave her alone while you took a shower.

but if there was one thing you knew about abby, it was that she took 'golden retriever energy' to a whole nother level. aka most of the time she couldn't leave you alone and followed you near everywhere. after only a few minutes, you heard the shower door open and felt her large arms circle around your waist and her head rest on your shoulders.

"i wanna ask you something. there's this cabin my dad owns that we all head to for winter break and stuff-"

you felt your heart skip a beat. to be honest part of the reason you were nervous about abby asking you this was because you were second-guessing yourself and your relationship. you hadn't even been together for a full year at this point, and even if you knew you loved her and that she adored you, you didnt want to be the one to bring up this thing she does with people she's known for years and get your heart damaged.

"and i wanted to invite you to go with us because i just know youd make it feel so much more special."

"i feel like a 'but' goes at the end of that sentence."

she rubs her head into your shoulder more, kissing at the soft and wet skin of your shoulder blade.

"i didn't tell you much. about my fight with owen. but everyone knows we haven't been talking much, but he's still been my friend since elementary, and i was hoping that maybe during the trip we could resolve things. but if he ever said something to you or about you i think id go fucking crazy."

your turn around and hold her head in your hands. her body is still slumped so her head is more at your level and her pretty blue eyes stare right into yours.

"i appreciate that. your slight anger issues make me feel honored." a smile quirks on her face and she nuzzles her head into your palms more. "and as much as he pisses me off, i don't know how i feel about causing a greater rift between you and your friends. ive only been with you less than a hear, he's known you for-"

"year or not doesn't matter. you mean...so much to me i can't put into words. the only reason i was nervous all day was that i didnt know how to make this sound like i wasn't putting him before you because i wouldn't. ever."

you look at her a bit longer, swiping away wet pieces of her hair back from her face so you can see all of her. because she's looking at you like she can do the same.

you both take an intimate shower without a word, helping the other bathe and lather her hair in apricot shampoo she's become addicted to. once you exit, dry off, and change into some matching fluffy pajamas she bought for you both, you finally head back to the kitchen to eat your food before turning on a movie.

it was only because you both decided to choose some random movie that the stupid thought crossed into your mind.

"could you imagine if we were that touchy all the time? we're already halfway there and it drives your friends nuts." you poked her cheek while you were resting on her, her arm wrapped around your shoulders while your legs intertwined on the couch.

"what do you mean?"

"just like, overdoing it. always with an arm around the other, making eyes across the room. if you wanna get extreme you could carry me on your back."

"or i could carry you on my front."

the shift of her hips and the tone of her voice makes you turn your head to look at her, nearly busting out laughing at the way her eyes are glued to the screen while she chews on her lower lip.

"stop doing that."

"doing what? im watching the movie. watch the movie with me."

"this is just like on the plane. y'know i was kidding about the exhibitionist thing at first-"

"baby, please."

"please what?"

she groaned while you just giggled at her, moving your bodies so she was sitting up on the couch and you were on top of her, adjusting your hips so you were straddling her waist.

"what're you thinking about, bunny?"

a subtle whine escaped from her throat and you smirked in triumph. there was nothing your girl loved more than being called the softest and cutest pet names, and you would frequently use it to your advantage, like the time when she refused to help you cheat on a test 'on principle' and you rested your face on her thigh from under the desk with a 'please, princess?' and she happily gave you the answers after roughly grinding herself on your tongue.

"i just...maybe if we played it up at the cabin owen would finally fuck off and realize im yours. i just thought it'd be funny."

you felt a warm feeling in your chest at the thought, showing your girl all the affection she craved from you on an idyllic vacation while also showing that dick owen who's boss. maybe then he'd finally let whatever his issue with you go. or not. at this point you didnt care.

"ok. we can do it."

"what? are you serious? i was half joking. i don't wanna make you do anything you don't want to-"

you cut off her sweet rambles with a press of your lips to hers. her arms brought you in closer until your breasts were squished into hers.

when abby texted the group chat the next morning next to you in bed to let the others know you'd be joining, you couldn't help but feel warm at the replies.

manny : thank god, i need a drinking partner since no one ever wants irish hot chocolate

leah : because the last time you made it you got drunk by five pm and kept singing baby its cold outside while doing both parts

jordan : and badly

manny : haters

nora : omg thank god

nora : this is all because of me btw

nora : tell y/n we're gonna have sooo much fun

manny : wait is she gonna ski

jordan : stop.

you giggled at your friends' antics. you were already imagining all the crazy things that would happen on the trip and happily listened to all the stories abby had to tell you.

mel : cant wait for the trip! hoping ben's is still open.

owen : 👍🏻

a snort escaped from you. "oh hes so pissed."

"definitely." abby agreed before turning the phone off and snuggling into your neck to relax for a little while longer. "prepare, he's probably just gonna get angrier from our masterful plan."

"technically my plan. and are you sure you still wanna do it? i don't wanna drive a wedge between you guys."

"he started that at that party. either he's gonna deal with me changing for the better or im gonna leave him in the dust. now shush, im going to sleep."

your hand smooths through abby's locks as she drifts back into sleep, and you soon follow her into it, dreaming of pale snow and the sight of the slopes.

the nex two weeks before break starts you're horrifically busy, finishing up some tests while also buying and packing everything you'll need for the trip. which is really just an excuse for you to get a bunch of those cute thick sweaters you saw on ebay but that's neither here nor there.

once your last class was finished abby immediately called an uber to take you to the airport, citing that as the host she always headed to the cabin earlier than everyone else to fix it up and stock up on little things, everyone would need or forget like extra blankets and lots and lots of water. during the trip to the airport, waiting in the airport since you were both 'get there hours before the flight' girls, and on the flight itself, abby was telling you stories of the cabin and what has happened on the past few trips that you should know about.

apparently, the cabin (in aspen, which you teased her was so basic) was bought by her grandparents (more teasing) for family trips when her dad was little. but as his siblings got older and started their own families the trips dwindled down, until his parents decided to just leave the place to him, telling him not to sell it for anything since it was worth a fat load of cash by now. hed take abby and her mom there before she passed, and then once she turned sixteen told her he trusted her enough to bring her friends up there if they could.

"honestly, i think it was part of him being nice and feeling sad we didn't spend much time together then. we were still mourning and he was always working." she sinks into her first-class seat, sipping on her complimentary ginger ale can. "but we're better now, and i get to have a laid-back vacation with my friends every year."

"sounds like a win-win to me. traumatic way you got there and all."

"you of all people saying that is hilarious, truly."

a few hours of talking and napping later and you've landed in colorado, a rental car waiting for you in the airport parking lot.

"abs, you are so secretly bougie. like, why didn't you rent a private car that time yours was in the shop and we were stuck in the rain downtown?"

"it's for emergencies and the necessary."

driving through the roads of aspen snowmass is something close to magical. at this point, the sun has set and the twinkling lights of the villages are everywhere, and you can see a plethora of christmas decorations inside shop windows.

when abby parks outside of the cabin your jaw is close to dropping, and you have to hold it up once you step inside. there was obviously a lot of wood, making up the floors, walls, and beams that connect both. but it was also decorated with relaxed brown and cream furniture.

"i want you to know if we get married, im not signing a prenup."

abby cackles before sneaking up behind you and tickling your waist, cackling at your shriek followed by a scowl.

"'if' babe, really? nice to know you're so committed."

"i'll be more committed if you give me a tour of this place."

the cabin was big, of course. enough bedrooms for your whole group and a few more. you honestly couldn't pick your favorite. there was a game room with a pool table you were just itching to beat jordan and leah at, a hot tub outside on the deck looking down onto the village that looked like the perfect place to drink champagne with nora talking shit about her recent ex.

"now, this is what i really wanted you to see," abby smiles before pushing open a wide set of doors on the upper floor and revealing to you the grand bedroom. there's a giant bed against the back wall, with a warm little nook tucked into a bay window.

"it's so nice here abs, really. i can't wait for everyone to get here so we can start doing stuff." you drop your bags by the front of the bed and flop your behind onto it, loving the way it bounces you up and down a bit. and you can tell that abby also loves it by the way she's staring at the way your boobs jiggle.

"im glad you like it, baby. but we don't have to wait for the others to get here to have some fun." a pervy little smile lights up her face and she starts inching towards you, making stupid little grabby hands as she does so.

"you're insatiable. aren't we supposed to be making sure this place is ready for everyone else?"

"wasn't it your idea for us to play everything up for fun? that includes sex. a lot of it. strap-ons are allowed on planes, by the way. and other things."

"...seriously?"

"seriously."

at this point, her arms are caging you into the plush of the comforter, and you don't know whether to look at the veins in her arms or her eyes or her mouth-

"you're staring, pretty."

"well you're all i can see, gorgeous."

she presses a soft kiss to the underside of your chin, her tounge poking out to lick down your neck.

"god, abs, please."

"please what?"

you groan and she just laughs at you.

the hardest part of being a switch was that abby could just throw shit back in your face when she became more dominant. it was both infuriating and arousing.

“im not gonna say it."

"you sure?" her large hand slips beneath the band of your pants until its resting over your underwear, teasing you.

"yes i a-am!" your refusal is cut off when two of her thick fingers slide inside of you, filling you up in the most delicious way. it doesn't help your case that there's no restriction, the wetness between your thighs letting her know just how much you were enjoying this.

"y'know, your master plan isn't exactly gonna work if you have an attitude with me, baby." her words are gravelly as she speakes into the crease of your neck, occasionally looking up at you to ingrain your reactions into her memory.

"god, abs."

"this is one the things i love most about you acting like a brat, just means i get to fuck and love on you until it goes away. and i've got all the time in the fuckin world."

just when you start getting close to your orgasm, you could've sworn in the distance you heard the sound of a door opening before closing a few minutes later. the feeling of abby kissing you and adding a third finger inside of you. you decided to just drop it

later on, after a nice long shower and putting on this cute warm sweater you bought, you and abby decided it was time to head out and get enough groceries to last for around two weeks until everyone else would arrive and decide what meals they would want after. it was very entertaining to watch abby standing in a fluorescently lit market aisle decide if she wanted to make a giant chicken pot pie or some creamy chicken soup one of her teammates told her about. she just stuck her tongue out when you looked at her.

once you returned to the cabin you could hear some music coming from inside the house, and despite your initial worry abby just smiled and rushed inside, your brain seriously wondering if you had chosen correctly romantically.

you headed inside with a few of the bags, setting them on the kitchen counters before heading to the source of the music that appeared to be coming from the living room. once you cross the threshold you are happily surprised to see your girlfriend and manny talking and laughing in the middle of the room.

"ah! nice to know abs hasn't broken you already." manny comes over to give you a big hug before setting you down and shaking your shoulders, just laughing when you start smacking his hands.

"jeez, what is with you guys? be normal."

"you forget im abby's roommate. this is because of you. you gave me this trauma."

you roll your eyes before patting him on the shoulder.

"ok, ok. why did you come early? when do the others get here?" abby asks from her place still on the couch.

"what, i cant just come because i love and miss two of my best friends."

the room is silent as you both stare at him.

"well just so you know, that was half true. but also," he looks down a dark hallway before tugging you closer to the couch so he can speak quietly. "mel and owen are here."

you blink. "thats...odd."

"very odd, but maybe it's a good thing? who knows, maybe owen's gotten over the whole fight and wants to put it to bed." abby turns to you, those big blue eyes filled with hope that you don't have the heart to squash with a joke.

"yeah, maybe."

"well if he did do that, i don't think he's in the mood for it now." manny chuckles.

"why not?"

"he was confused to see a car in the driveway, so he came by two hours ago and left like two minutes later. his face was as red as a tomato, you know how he looks when he's flushed."

oh my god.

you turned to abby and her cheeks were puffed, a clear sign she was trying not to laugh.

well, it looks like your plan was already working.

the next three days were more laid back, just spent taking a chance to relax and sleep in after your grueling semester. you decided to spend these days exploring more of the cabin, admiring all of the rooms and the random really pretty art pieces on some of the walls.

you swore that nothing could beat the bliss you felt on that second day, waking up to the faint sun in your eyes and abby gently snoring next to you, deciding to cook up a bunch of waffles, one of the meals you excelled at, and read a four hundred page book on the sofa.

(the plan was still in motion at this point, just more tame.

once jordan, leah, and nora came things really took a turn for the exciting. after hearing that you'd been cooped in the house these past few days, leah insisted you come with them to some bars and other hot spots around town. you hadn't been drinking much lately but figured that since you were surrounded by people you trusted and a bunch of strangers you'd be able to handle yourself.

and you did.

for the most part.

you just weren't expecting the bartender to be the chillest girl you've ever met and make a killer strawberry daiquiri, because before you knew it they were playing some old-school song over the speakers and were hanging off of leah's arm like a koala.

"oh my god, im so glad you invited me out. this place rules. have you tried the daiquiris? serenity said she'd make me one more but you can have it."

"her name is trinity, and you're getting touchy. where's abs?"

you shrug and she shakes her head, looking over your shoulders to see if she can spot the hulking blonde. she waves someone over and then abby is in your vision, a soft expression on her face as she tugs your body into hers.

"how much have you had to drink, baby?"

"mmmm, not too much. i could walk in a gay line. look, i even made a corny joke!"

"yes, you did." she squats down a little bit and you wrap your arms around her neck and your legs around her waist, trying to restrain yourself from making any noises when she lifts you with ease to the amusement of some of the people in the bar.

"how about we head back and take a long bath, pretty. ill even try those rose face masks you bought."

you were about to agree when out of the corner of your eye you catch owen, sitting inside a booth with jordan and manny, sparing looks in your direction.

you smirk down at her and she can already guess what you're thinking, tightening her grip on your hips.

"or we can do that later. and dance now."

you nod and loosen your legs for her to drop you but she just holds you tighter for a moment, leaning her head up to place a heated kiss on your lips before pulling away, fighting to ignore the tiny string of spit that connects your lips to hers.

"ok. now we can dance."

abby told you the next day that owen had asked to talk to her one on one in the morning and she didn't really understand what it meant. he apologized for lashing out at her, apparently, but still didnt agree with some of the 'drastic changes to her personality' that were happening lately.

you really tried to promise her that you wouldn't cuss him out, telling you she'd handle it later after having a conversation with manny to figure out when the hell he started acting like this.

focus on tried.

you and nora were in the kitchen that night making cups of hot chocolate, taking the chance to top them with all the stuff you weren't allowed to as a child. also probably increasing your risks of cavities, but whatever, it was nostalgic. you were laughing at the absurd abundance of whipped cream in her mug and the three candy canes in yours when you heard footsteps coming into the kitchen, looking over to see owen looking over some things in the fridge.

you looked at nora. she looked at you.

"so owen, how are things going with mel?"

his hand pauses over some leftover noodles, gripping it with a fist.

"we're great actually, thanks for asking norsie."

noras eye twitches, bumping into your shoulder before leaving the room to rest in the kitchen and wait for you before starting a movie.

owen turns and suddenly its just the two of you. staring at each other. you with a three-caned hot cocoa and he with a tupperware of linguine.

"what's your fucking problem."

his eyebrows shoot up, almost like he wasn't expecting you to actually bring up the tension at hand.

"y/n, is this really the time-"

"yes, it is the goddamn time to ask you why you've been acting like a dick to me and my girlfriend."

his mouth quirks downwards and you nearly laugh at the realization of the words, the glances, how he would look at abby sometimes like a kicked puppy even when his damn girlfriend sat on his lap, it was all because he couldn't move the fuck on.

"seriously? that's the reason? you've been putting me, putting abby through hell because you're still hung up over her? this is my worst gay nightmare."

"it's because ever since she's been with you shes been different, always acting like she's some better person now that she's over me. like i was the thing holding her back. how do you think that makes me feel, huh?"

you stare at him after his quiet outburst, his face that signature shade of pink and his eyes enraged. but he doesn't scare you.

you walk closer to him, entertained by the way she avoids you like the plague, and presses his back into the refrigerator. you want to lash out more, to scream at him until your throat is sore, to whisper all the little flaws about him you've noticed over the past year that are driving everyone away, but you won't.

"i hope it makes you feel like the heap of shit you are. goodnight, moore."

when abby feels you snuggle into her later that night, feeling your hands squeeze into her stomach from behind you, she asks if everything is ok, and you press a kiss to her cheek and tell her to go back to sleep.

the next morning it's christmas eve, and everyone is in the dining room eating breakfast and talking about how everyone somehow has no plans when you make a suggestion for the day.

"i wanna go hit the slopes today."

you swear most of them look at you like you've grown another head that just started trying to sing the tequila song.

manny continues chewing his eggs before giving you a thumbs up, but you can tell he's secretly been waiting for this. after you first met he asked you if you've ever skied again after your accident and then dropped it when you gave him a death glare. but since you've gotten closer he knows more about how it's not that you can't ski, but almost as if there was a mental block that stopped you from doing so.

"uhm...sure. i can see if we can do that. are you sure you want to?" abby rests her arms on the table and leans her head into yours, trying to give a sense of privacy for your answer.

"i'm not made of glass, abby. it's about time i get back out there. its the only way i'll known for sure about what my dad said."

"what'd your dad say?" mel speaks up from the opposite side of the table, her hand rested over owen's on top of the wood.

you straighten your shoulders. "some stupid doping scandal got the olympics postponed, and my dad said if i wanter he thinks he could get me back in shape by then to apply."

"holy shit! i mean, it's your choice obviously, but that's cool as hell. i think you should do it." jordan exclaims, sipping on his orange juice through a straw.

"wait, what about your leg? you've only had problems with it a couple of times, but is it alright enough to go ski?" nora asks. she was the one who besides abby you've told the most about your skiing problems, and once took you to the pharmacy to pick up your pain meds like it was no hassle.

"it's better if i don't push myself too much, but the blue and reds should be a piece of cake."

you look at abby, and even though she has no idea why you've had this sudden change of heart, she can hear the subtle excitement in your voice and nods her head at you with a smile.

thanks to everyone always waking up at the break of dawn for some reason, you're checked in to the slopes and ready to go only three hours later. jordan and manny even decided to join you and try their hands at the bunny slopes, the rest of the group deciding to find somewhere to sit and relax while they watched you all.

"mama please, you're embarrassing me." manny groans while you tilt his head from side to side to make sure all of the straps for his helmet and goggles are secure. you weren't about to have him getting a concussion and blaming you for bringing him here or the workers for their sloppy job.

"no one knows better ski safety than me. now shush, I'm almost done."

once you were finished you gently smacked his head and headed to the side of where the slope ends, abby beaming at you from over the rail. she was wearing this cute little beanie she bought for the trip and this all-black bomber jacket that made her look so much bigger than she already is.

"hello? babe, did you hear what i said?" abby's hand waves in front of your face bringing you back to focus. you slowly blink and she shakes her head. "you're so weird."

"again, i get that from you."

"whatever." her gloved hand rests on your face and she brings you closer so she can press a soft kiss onto your lips. when she tries to pull away but your arms are wrapping around her neck and pulling her body into yours, starting an impromptu makeout session before jordans wolf call yanks you out of it.

her fingers reach up to push a strand of hair back into your helmet. "are you sure you'll be ok up there? if your leg hurts just pull over to the side and i'll try to come up and help you-"

you cut her off with another kiss. "i'll be fine, princess. don't worry about me. just worry about all those losers I'm gonna show up."

she laughs that cute and loud little laugh of hers and sends you off, waving to you multiple times when she sees you go up the lift.

once you are at the top you go over everything again, making sure all of your equipment is snug, the track in front of you is good, and your skis are tight and before you know it you're standing at the top of the slope breathing heavy and feeling like you're about to have a panic attack.

your head feels like it's on fire and you swear that you are close to passing out when someone taps on your shoulder. you turn around and it's some teen by his face unobstructed by the goggles, a go-pro attached to his helmet.

"hey, sorry if i'm being annoying but, you're y/n l/n right?"

you nod, hoping he can't see the strained expression on your face.

"i just wanted to say that i think you're like, so cool. i saw that video of you training for the super g at thirteen and it changed my life, seriously."

your head felt a bit better at the memory. the adrenaline you got skiing down slopes at top speeds and then dodging the flags your father asked the owners if he could put on the track to help you train. they were nice people, and even let you pick what flags you wanted. a mix of pink and black.

"thank you. i swore that training took everything out of me. but at least i didn't have to worry about how i was doing in algebra."

he laughs and bobs his head. he clears his throat before slightly hopping on his two feet.

"you ok, kid?"

"yes, yeah, i just... ya see i have this youtube channel where i post videos of me riding down the slopes, helping beginners, trying the harder slopes, and stuff like that." he taps the go bro on his helmet. "and i was wondering if you wanted to do like, a friendly little race? i don't know, you don't have to i know you're leg is probably still healing, i can just go if you wa-"

"i'll do it."

his eyes bulge, surprised at your answer. you have to admit you're slightly surprised too. you weren't planning on doing anything more than inching your way down the intermediate slope a few times, but the memory of the super g has energy suddenly rushing through you. besides, it'd be a nice distraction from everything else. your dad. owen. you.

when you both get to the edge of the slope, you let him know you'll give him a twenty-second head start before you follow. he nods, and a few seconds later you're skiing for the first time in years.

and it feels fucking great.

at the speeds you are going the wind is whipping across the unprotected parts of your face, the stinging cold keeping you focused as you turn around trick hills and get your legs used to the feeling of slight strain. but your legs feel fine, and that makes you feel even better.

before long you can see the kid ahead of you and your friends in the close distance, nora's red coat bobbing up and down as she cheers for you. only five seconds after you pass your fan and can hear his slight spluttering before you're bringing your skis to a stop and the ice is flying from underneath them.

your heart is pounding as the kid, who tells you his name is aidan, thanks you for 'kicking his ass, i swear it'll get so many views". he tells you he'll tag you, and you do him one better by saying you'll follow him back and you're a little scared he's about to have a heart attack before he leaves to check in with his parents.

"oh my god oh my god oh my god! that was so fucking cool! i really thought you were gonna wipe out there for a second but I'm glad you didn't." leah squeezes your body in a hug rocking you from side to side. "are you gonna go again? if you do i swear I'll put on some skis and go down the bunny slope."

you throw your head back with a laugh, imagining leah slowly going down the snow while pizza and french frying her skis. you bask in the compliments given to you by nora who was watching the whole time and manny who tells you he successfully completed the green slope with no falls or bumps. you feel the urge to talk to abby, to have her tell you she's proud of you when you see her near one of the equipment cabins, talking to owen.

"are you gonna go again or do you wanna stop for the day?"

you look at nora with a grin. "yeah, i'll go again."

later that night, after a few more hours of racing your friends and even seeing a few more fans who recognized you, even one lady who said she remembered you based on your form, everyone is headed back to the house to end the day after getting some drink from the community lodge

for some reason, abby hasn't talked to you since, and based on what you saw you're preparing for the damn worst. a small part of you knows you might be overreacting, that there's no way she would fall for the bullshit more had to say to her, but her avoidance of you isn't helping that little part take charge.

like she could read your mind, she's on your tail and following you into your bedroom, taking off her clothes as you do the same but still no word before you head into the shower. under the heat of the water, you rest your head on the wall and close your eyes to try to center yourself. you know abby, you know how much she's done for you. owen wasn't going to get in the way of that and you refused to let him.

you dry yourself off, brush your teeth, moisturize your body, and decide not to put on your pajamas and just this cute robe abby bought for you before leaving the bathroom. after turning off the lights you stop in your tracks, abby sitting on the side of the bed and staring at you.

your feet slowly carry you closer to her before she rolls her eyes and tugs you onto her lap. your face is neutral, even when you can feel the bulge inside of her sweatpants. you tilt your head and she replicates it.

"let me guess, you got an attitude again?"

"you're a fucking hypocrite."

"wh?" her face jerks back in confusion. "what are you talking about?"

"don't play fucking dumb with me abigail. biggest personal growth moment for me in forever and you spend it talking to your damn ex, who if you didn't catch it is still hung up on you, by the way."

"i know, just let me explain-"

"no, i don't want to know. if you're just doing all this as some fucked up way to let me down gently i swear to god-"

you get cut off when one of her hands moves from your waist to cover your mouth, her eyes drooping when you nip at her palm.

"stop it. you know i wouldn't do something that shitty to you, please stop being so paranoid." she waits to gauge your reaction before she decides that you aren't likely to cut her off, softly rubbing at the skin under your eye. "please don't cry."

"im not gonna cry."

"just wanted to make sure. because i care about you, and that's what i was letting owen know that when he was being a jealous dick about you skiing earlier. told him I'm this close to kicking him to the curb for good."

"wait really? what'd he say? i bet he was pissed when i skied over that stuck stump, probably wishes i rode over it and fucking broke my back."

"jeez, you really do despise him." she shakes her head, smiling and rubbing her hands on your thighs. "but yes, he was wondering if maybe now that you were fine to ski you were trying to upstage me or something."

"and do you? and why were you ignoring me?"

she sighed. "literally the opposite. you're just...so amazing, and funny, and talented, and i just know soon you'll be this olympian and wont wanna deal with me and my dumb ex anymore."

"i mean, i am amazing you're right about that," you brag, giggling when she pinches you. "but i'd deal with anything to be with you. i don't even have the words. i wouldn't have gotten on that slope without you always pushing me, despite how annoying i may find it."

abby's' face is beaming and suddenly she's kissing you like you're air, leaning back into the bed so you can hover over her. she stops kissing you just to move her ministrations to all over your face, repeating little 'i love you's' as she does so, reveling in the little hums that leave your throat.

"ok, are we done being sappy so we can fuck now?" your question ends in a squeak when her palm slaps your ass. you look at her with a glare and she just dopily smiles at you, gripping your hips to flip you underneath her.

"y'know, owen and mel picked the room right next to ours." she grinds her hips into yours, the friction of the strap rubbing against you heightened since your robe was riding up to show her bare cunt.

"god, you want me to be loud, don't you?"

"mmhm." she grins as her hand moves down to push the band of her pants down, the feeling of the toy grinding out forcing you to bite your lip to hide your moan, embarrassed by how quickly she could make you want it. her thumbs moves to pull your lip from between your teeth.

she continues humping you until she can see you're wet enough to slide in, looking for your nod to push the strap into you, groaning as it just slides in.

"y/n, we barely did any foreplay-"

"shut up, please shut up."

for some reason she takes that as a sign to start thrusting, reveling in your moans as they finally start to pick up volume. you try to bite the back of your hand when she pulls it away, holding it in hers and holding it above your head. the action is so sweet it almost makes you cry, instead thrusting your head up to press a sweet kiss to her lips.

"mm, love when you're all sweet like this honey. wanna stay like this forever, love you so fuckin much i swear to god." she accentuates her last couple of words with short but harsh thrusts that knock the breath out of your lungs. your orgasm is fast approaching at this rate, and she can tell by the way your eyes are fluttering and your hand is squeezing hers.

"you gonna cum? huh? gonna cum all over me baby?" you nod your head, not trusting the words and sounds that are coming out of your throat. she moves her hand down to rub at your clit and suddenly your stomach is pulsing and your orgasm is hitting you like a truck, abby's following after yours as she's groaning into your neck and thrusting harder to grind the base of the strap into her clit.

it takes a minute for both of you to calm down, the bliss overtaking the both of you.

"was...was that loud enough?" you whisper and feel her silent laugh on top of you, rubbing your leg over the back of hers.

she pushes her head up enough to look you in the eyes, and you really regret asking the question because she's got that dumb-ass smile back on her face and shaking her head.

only a few minutes later she's got you on all fours, leg propped up as she forces your hips back and forth on her dick. and then after that she makes you ride her, and then the position she knows you're obsessed with: her fucking you while standing up.

"a-abs! abby! oh my god!" your throat is sore as her fingers grip the meat of your thighs, the force of her bouncing you and thrusting her hips up getting you closer and closer to euphoria. your eyes are closed and your head is tilted back, doing anything to avoid the way she's looking at you like you're some goddess she's been blessed to witness.

"just a little bit more baby. cmon, tell me how much you love it."

"i do! fuck abby, love it so much."

"love what, honey? you can do it, know you can. god you're so perfect."

your mind is hazy with the feeling of the strap hitting that sensitive spot inside of you with every bounce of your hips and her words that you barely even register her demand, groaning when she bites at one of your tits that have been bouncing in her face.

"tell me what you love. please, please tell me."

"nghh, love you abby! fuckin love your dick so much!"

"that's it, thaaat's it pretty girl. let everyone you're mine, that i'm yours-"

you're pretty sure she kept talking after that, but the rush of your orgasm deafens every sound and lights your body on fire, only able to feel the high and the cum leaking down your thighs. you go in and out of consciousness but come back to when you're both back in bed, abby pulling you onto her chest and she rubs a soft hand down your back.

"love you." you mumble, snuggling into the warmness of her.

"i love you too, y/n."

"'m sorry about earlier."

"me too. promise that i'll tell you whenever i'm feeling down. or when i'm dealing with a douche."

"me too."

you get the best night's sleep you've had in years.

in the morning everyone seems ecstatic for the holiday, ready to share their gifts with each other after breakfast. you decide to join in helping to cook, which gets you a crazy accusation from jordan saying your helping is just 'sitting on the counter so abby has something to look at while you drink a mimosa". whatever. abby is standing between your thighs and talking to you about her new workout schedule when owen and manny walk into the room, manny bidding you a sly 'good morning' with a smirk as owen grabs water from the fridge.

"hey owes, can you hand me one?" abby asks, her fingers drumming on your thigh as she uses the other to catch the bottle he tosses to her with a polite smile. your eyes are following the action suspiciously before abby is for some reason keeping a grip on the middle of the bottle as she opens it so the liquid spurts onto a bit of her shirt.

"ugh, abs! wait a second." you start to move off the counter when she holds your hips down.

"its fine, babe. i'm used to things squirting on me, anyway."

your face scrunches up as you smack her in the shoulder, your face hot as you hear jordan and manny cackling like hyenas and owen chugs down his water. abby just presses a loud kiss on your cheek.

other than your friends constantly teasing you, nora whispering a 'love shack' in your ear when she walks behind you in the living room, the day really is perfect. when the sun sets everyone is exchanging the gifts they got for each other. leah got jordan some necklace he's had his eyes on, manny bought mel some earmuffs after hers broke a month ago. some of them teased you for having surprisingly thoughtful gifts despite having a heart of only half-thawed ice, making you only reply that you weren't past taking the gifts back.

and then you open the gift abby got you and nearly cry; a custom snow globe, inside two mini figures dancing on a mountain of snow, one wearing skis and the other wearing skates. the she almost does the same with the corny 'cooking for two' book you bought her and the limited edition version of her favorite novel.

its a night full of warmth and laughter, and once it ends you find yourself standing out on the balcony, looking out at the lit lights of the village and the lifts on the slopes. your phone is in your hand and you open the text messages to your dad.

tell everyone i said merry christmas. its going to take me time to mentally heal enough to train. but if you're willing to do it with me then i'm in.

"hey, it's fucking freezing out here." abby opens the slide-apart door and comes up beside you, wrapping her arms around you to look out at the view with you. "are you ok?"

you sigh, turning to admire her. the redness of her cheeks, the tiny snowflakes in her hair. the way she's looking at you.

you nod your head.

"i'm on top of the world."

fics keep getting longer to overcompensate allah take me now. spent so much of yesterday aka my birthday writing this omg but it was so fun to write a more developed reader. uhhh idk stream cobra by megan.

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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“Draw two,” Sasaki says. 

“I’ll add another draw two. So now [Name] has to draw four,” Iguchi follows up, throwing another card onto the pile.

You stare at the two cards left in your hand, and then you cast a glance beside you, over to poor Itadori, who’s easily holding more than ten. Part of you wonders if you should be nice and spare him, since he’s clearly suffering more than enough already, but then again, this is Uno. 

Uno is just about as cutthroat as it gets. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, wincing a bit as you add another card onto the pile. “I still have a draw four card left… which means Itadori has to pick up eight cards in total. Also, um, Uno.” 

“No way!” he cries out, and you swear you see his soul leave his body. 

Sasaki throws her head back and starts laughing. “Man, Itadori, you stink at this! I swear you’ve placed last every single time we’ve played. It’s actually kind of impressive how unlucky you can be sometimes.”

“I haven’t lost yet,” Itadori stubbornly refutes, but of course, within the next round, you win, and Sasaki and Iguchi quickly follow suit. 

You watch as Itadori’s shoulders slump in defeat. 

“Fine, now I lost,” he sighs. Most people would probably be pretty frustrated seeing as he’s lost more than four—or is it five games in a row now? In any case, Uno tends to ruin friendships and drive people insane, but since this is Itadori, it only takes a few brief moments of adorable sulking for him to perk up again. “Alright, well, I’m ready for the next round!” 

Iguchi shakes his head. “Sorry, but no more. I’m starting to feel bad about beating you this badly.” 

“Really?” Sasaki blinks. “I’m having the time of my life.” 

“You don’t always have to voice your intrusive thoughts aloud, Sasaki.” 

“We can play more next time,” you say, gently patting Itadori on the shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ll win a bunch then. Enough to make up for all the losses from today.” 

“Doubt it,” Sasaki muses. 

“Sasaki, that’s seriously enough out of you,” Iguchi sighs.

“Alright, fine,” Itadori relents. He quickly glances towards the clock on the wall. “I guess it’s about time for me to head out anyway. It’d be nice to get to the hospital early for a change.” 

More than a week has passed since you first awoke in this world, and during that time, you’ve spent pretty much every day hanging out with Itadori. It’s quite literally a dream come to true to be able to talk to him like this. From the moment you discovered you attended the same school, you were already starstruck, but you figured you would only ever be able to stare at him longingly, from afar. Never in a million years did you imagine that you would actually become his friend. 

Even though your friendship is destined to be cut short, you’re determined to enjoy these blissful moments for as long as you can.

You and Itadori say goodbye to Sasaki and Iguchi, and the two of you walk out of the building together, stopping by a vending machine to grab some canned drinks. You crack your can open and sit down next to him, relishing in the fresh air paired with the cool liquid running down your throat. 

“Visiting your grandpa again, right?” you affirm. 

Itadori takes a big gulp, then nods. “Yeah. Same old, I guess. That’s another reason why it’s nice being part of the Occult Research Club. A lot of people have pestered me to join athletic clubs, but they run way too late. I wouldn’t be able to make it down to the hospital in time for visiting hours. It just works out better this way. Plus, hanging out with those guys is a lot of fun.”

“It’s nice that you always make an effort to visit him,” you say, smiling gently. “I’m sure he really appreciates the time he gets to spend with you. It must mean a lot to him.” 

“Well, I’m the only one he has left, so I’d feel really crappy if he had to spend every day all on his own.”

“Still. Not everyone would make sure to visit every single day, like you do. You’re really kind. You’re a good person, Itadori.” 

You hold your smile as you take another sip of your drink, and you don’t notice that Itadori is staring at you wide-eyed, at least, not until you turn and realize he’s nearly breathing down your neck. 

“Um,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed by how close he is, “y-yes? Is there… something on my face?” 

Itadori scratches his neck. “Uh. This might sound like a bit of a weird request and all, but I was just wondering if… maybe you wanted to come with me today?” 

“Come with you?” 

“Yeah. To visit my gramps. Since we got to talking and all, I figured maybe he’d like to see someone other than me for a change. To be honest, I don’t think he has much longer left. He’s always snapping at me for visiting him, saying I shouldn’t waste my time going to a depressing place like that, and that I should be spending time in clubs with my friends instead. Maybe he’ll feel better if he sees me bring a friend along. He won’t worry that I’m lonely, like he is.” 

You proceed to just stare at him, and although you didn’t intend for your gaze to be unsettling, Itadori lets out a nervous chuckle and quickly shakes his head.

“Aw, man, what am I even saying? Sorry. That was kind of weird. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to waste your free time going to a hospital, of all places. I didn’t mean to try and pressure you into anything. Just forget what I—” 

“I'll go,” you blurt. “If you're sure you want me to come with you, then yes. I'd be happy to meet your grandpa.”

Itadori blinks rapidly, clearly bewildered, but it doesn’t take long for one of those ridiculously cute smiles to spread across his lips. 

“Awesome! Thanks so much, [Name]. That’s really cool of you. I feel like you’re always the one doing me favors, even though it should be the other way around.” 

“It’s not a favor,” you reassure. You pause, smiling shyly. “I really like spending time with you, after all.” 

Itadori’s smile shows no signs of disappearing, and together, you make the trip to Sugisawa Hospital, where his grandfather is currently admitted. 

You have to admit, you feel a little nervous. His grandfather is his only remaining family, and naturally, you want to make a good impression. Even more so because you know that he doesn’t have much time left. You may not be able to stay by Itadori’s side once the canon plot begins, but at least for now, you’d like to put his grandfather at ease. 

“Don’t worry,” Itadori reassures, smiling brightly. “He might seem like a crabby old man at first, but he’s not actually that bad. I know he’ll be happy to see me with a friend.” 

You smile back and quickly nod, and after a moment’s delay, Itadori slides the door open. 

“...you again, Yuji?” a gruff voice immediately barks out. “I thought I told you to quit wasting your time stopping by. Don’t you have anything better to do? What about your school club?” 

Itadori steps into the room first, rolling his eyes as if this kind of reaction is typical, but once you follow behind him and make your presence known, his grandfather’s expression does a full one-eighty. 

“Oh,” he blinks. “Who’s this now? Yuji, don’t tell me… you finally managed to get yourself a girlfriend? Good going, kid. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

Itadori blushes a bit, but his embarrassment dissolves once he lets out a sigh. “Cool it, old man. Don’t make me regret bringing her. This is [Name]. She’s my friend. You always seem so worried about me not spending enough time with other people, so I invited her to come, and she accepted. Make sure to be nice to her, okay?” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” you say, bowing your head. “I hope me being here isn’t an inconvenience.” 

“Itadori Wasuke,” his grandfather introduces. You watch as he sits up a bit straighter in his hospital bed. “Hm. Are you sure you’re not dating Yuji? You seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ve got manners, unlike this brat. Hey, Yuji. Don’t be stupid. You don’t want to lose a pretty girl like her to someone else.” 

Itadori rolls his eyes again. “It might be easier said than done, but try to ignore him. Sometimes I think he just says things because he likes hearing the sound of his own voice.” 

“See that?” Wasuke points. “Do you see how this ungrateful grandson of mine treats me?” 

You bite back a chuckle. Naturally, you’ve already gotten a glimpse of what their relationship is like, well before meeting either of them in person. Wasuke may have a sharp tongue, but it’s clear that he loves his grandson, and he wants him to have a good life. He wants him to be surrounded by people who care for him, and even though Itadori will face plenty of hardship in the future, the fact remains that he will have plenty of friends who are willing to stand by his side. 

“Itadori’s a really good guy,” you say, lacing your hands together and smiling. “Everyone likes him. He’s got a lot of other friends besides me. And I know he’ll make countless more friends from here on out.” 

You pause to gauge their reactions. Itadori is blinking at you, perhaps a bit flustered by your sudden declaration, and Wasuke’s expression hasn’t really changed much, but you notice that his eyes are a bit wider than they were a second ago. 

It’s awfully subtle, but for just a brief moment, a smile rises to Wasuke’s lips. 

“Is that so?” he chuckles. “Thank you for saying that, young lady. I’ll admit that it brings me some relief. I’m glad Yuji isn’t just wasting the best years of his life tending to a sickly old man like me. If he’s got friends like you who speak so highly of him… then I guess he must be doing something right.” 

“No way,” Itadori marvels. “Did you just compliment me, gramps?” 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

“Still! You actually said something kind of nice for a change!” 

“Alright, I take back everything I just said.” 

The two of them go back and forth like this for a while longer, and you’re perfectly content to just stand there and watch. It’d be nice if Wasuke could stick around longer. It’d be nice if Itadori didn’t have to lose the only family he has left. But without a doubt, Wasuke will live on in his heart, and you get the feeling that even when he passes, he’ll be watching over him for a long, long time. 

Wasuke clears his throat. “Seriously, though. If you don’t act fast enough, by the time you know it, [Name] will be dating someone else. Don’t live a life filled with regrets, kid.” 

“...gramps, come on.” 

Uh-oh.

You’re not an idiot, so of course, you know what this means. The wooden box he’s referring to is where Sukuna’s finger was being kept. Up until Itadori found it, that is. 

Which can only mean that soon—like, very soon—the main plotline will begin to unfold. 

You nervously chew on your lip. Truth to be told, you want absolutely nothing to do with that stinky finger. You already know that everything will be fine until the Occult Club members remove the seal, but still. The whole thing just freaks you out, and it’s way too scary to even fathom getting involved in. 

While you struggle to come up with a reasonable excuse, your phone buzzes again. 

Balls. He’s just too goddamn cute. It makes it downright impossible to turn him down. 

With a heavy sigh, you text him that you’re on your way, and you eventually get there, unsurprised to see him standing in front of the same storage box that Fushiguro was frantically searching at the start of the series. 

Itadori grins widely. “Thanks for coming! Here, check this out. Have you ever seen something like this before? It looks kind of supernatural, doesn’t it? I bet Sasaki and Iguchi would go crazy over this.”

He proceeds to hold up a small, visibly old wooden box, and you gulp as he opens it up to reveal the cursed object inside—one of Sukuna’s fingers.

Of course, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what it actually is. It’s completely wrapped up in the seal, making the object inside indiscernible. He probably wouldn’t be grinning ear-to-ear if he knew it was some wrinkly old finger. 

…then again, he swallowed said finger without even hesitating, so maybe he wouldn’t actually care that much. 

“Oh, c-cool,” you say, doing your best to mask your discomfort. “Yeah, it definitely gives off that occult vibe. I’m sure the other club members would like it a lot.” 

“I really wonder what it’s even supposed to be, though.” Itadori frowns as he picks up the sealed finger—much to your horror—and leans in closer to get a better look at it. “Yep, I honestly have no idea. You got any theories, [Name]?”

Without warning, he tosses the cursed object towards you, and out of pure reflex, you lurch forward to catch it. 

The second it falls into your hands, you experience a sense of dread that is almost too nauseating to put into words. 

It’s only for a moment, but the scene before your eyes changes. All of a sudden, you feel something wet sloshing around your feet, and you look down to find crimson liquid, red water, or perhaps—blood. 

You try to choke out a few words, but no sound escapes your lips. You’re understandably disoriented, so your gaze then pans upwards, and to say that you’re terror-struck would still have been an understatement. 

Right there, sitting on top of a pile of skeletons, is Sukuna.

It seems as though you’ve lost the ability to speak, but even if you could speak, you doubt you would have been able to find the right words. You’re too overwhelmed with fear to even think clearly, and right before you collapse onto your knees, just shy of a meltdown, Sukuna knits his brows together and leans forward.

“...who are you?”

You snap out of it with a gasp, only to find that you’re still standing in front of Itadori, who has a worried look on his face. 

“[Name]?” he frowns. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so good. Sorry, did I freak you out by tossing that thing at you? I probably shouldn’t have done that. I get why you’d be startled.” 

He crouches down to pick up the cursed object, which you apparently dropped to the ground without even realizing it. You place a hand over your chest, exhaling shakily. Your heart is pounding relentlessly, and you feel dizzy, like you might pass out at any given moment.

Just now… that was Sukuna’s Innate Domain, right? But how is that even possible? He hasn’t even been incarnated through Itadori yet…

You swallow hard. That finger is completely sealed. Even though the seal is old enough to be torn off by even a regular human—like Sasaki, for instance—Sukuna shouldn’t have appeared before you. Or at the very least, you shouldn’t have been able to see him. 

Maybe it was just a strange vision. Maybe the shock induced some kind of hallucination, or something. None of this makes any sense in the first place. The fact that you’ve been transported into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

Itadori places the cursed object back inside the box, then tucks it into his pocket. “Sorry again for catching you off guard like that. Are you okay? You look a bit faint. That was my bad. You even mentioned before that you don’t really like scary stuff, so I should have thought twice before doing that.” 

“I’m okay,” you reassure, and it’s true. You feel perfectly fine now. That sensation of choking up and being overcome with fear is already a thing of the past. It seems more and more likely that it was probably all in your head. 

Yeah.

You must have just been imagining things. 

“Kokkuri, Kokkuri, please tell us… which creature is the school council president weaker than?!” 

Ah. So, it’s finally starting. 

The question is all too familiar, of course, and as you allow the coin to be guided around the board, the word formed is exactly what you expected. 

“What? A fish?” everyone laughs in response, and just like in the canon series, the door abruptly slides open, revealing none other than the student council president himself. 

He starts berating everyone in the room, of course, but you're not really paying attention. 

Instead, you gaze at Itadori with a wistful smile, realizing that after today, you will no longer be part of his life.

There's no place for you by his side. It's simply too dangerous, and even if you were strong enough, you can't risk upsetting the delicate balance of this world. Everything will unfold the way it's supposed to, which means that your role here, albeit small as it was, is over. 

…or is it?

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[youreverydayfangirl]

the man

pairing: pierre gasly x doctor! reader

summary: after taking over the clinic y/n meets a cute patient, or in which pierre meets a cute doctor

warning: injury

a/n: i might make a pt 2

mathersonclinics has posted

liked by yourusername, yourbsfusername and 3, 985 others

mathersonclinics We are thrilled to introduce our new Chief of Medicine Y/n Y/ln. Doctor L/n first began their journey with our clinic at the young age of 16, displaying and extraordinary dedication to the field of medicine. Over the past ten years, Dr L/n has contributed countless hours of hard work and commitment, shaping the clinic into what it is today. Their experience and passion for patient care is what makes Dr L/n perfect for the role and we look forward to seeing the continued growth and success of our clinic under our new Chief.

tagged: DoctorY/Ln

DoctorY/Ln Very grateful for this opportunity.

yourbsfusername that's my bestie and I'm proud

DoctorY/LN has posted

liked by yourusername, yourbsfusername and 24, 568 others

DoctorY/LN It is such an honor to be presented with this oppurtunity.

yourbsfusername 😭😭

yourbsfusername after seeing how you've put your blood sweat and tears into this i could not be prouder

user1 i still remember when she was a baby 😭

user2 how old is she??

→ user3 shes 26. she finished highschool when she was like 11.

→ user2 OMGG???

→ user3 i know shes like a geniur

yourusername 🔒 has posted

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yourusername 🔒 literally freaking the fuck out

yourbsfusername your so fine

→ yourusername yourbsfusername thx pooks

yourusername 🔒 has posted five stories

caption 1 only way to start your day off is with a healthy meal 🥗

caption 2 morning run + gossip

caption 3 healthy snack ✅

caption 4 beach day

caption soaking in the sun rays

liked by yourbsfusername and 13 others

yourbsfusername never going running with you again

yourbsfusername you aren't human

liked by creator

__________________________

When Y/N and her best friend arrived at the beach, they set up their gear close to a volleyball game. The smell of the ocean brought a sense of calm that Y/N hadn't felt in a while. Although she loved being a doctor, it could be very stressful at times. Her eyes focused on watching the waves, the dark blue that seemed so inviting. Her gaze drifted over to the group of men playing volleyball. They were all very attractive, but one caught her eye in particular.

"You should ask for his number," her best friend whispered, nudging her shoulder. A blush crept up Y/N's cheeks at being caught.

"No, we're here to relax."

"No better way to relax than to flirt with a hot man," her best friend said, shrugging her shoulders. Y/N just chuckled, shaking her head as her eyes drifted over to the group once more. This time, he seemed to catch her stare. She felt her cheeks flush but kept eye contact with him until he got pulled back into the game.

Y/N got up, brushing the sand off as she reached into the cooler she had brought. "Water?" she asked her best friend, but she just shook her head, gesturing to the beer bottle she was holding. Y/N grabbed a water bottle and some of the fruit she had brought before sitting back down, opting to read the book she had brought, her eyes occasionally flickering to the loud group of men.

The group caught her attention when they seemed to give up on volleyball, with a smaller group of them opting to go surfing. Her best friend nudged her, but Y/N ignored her, looking back down at the book she was reading.

A while later, loud shouts caught Y/N's attention. She looked up and saw the group pulling one of their friends out of the water. Shit!

Her best friend nudged her again. "Y/N, go help," she said, tension and worry in her voice.

"Yeah- Yeah, okay," Y/N said, her voice slightly shaking.

She sprinted over to the group. "What happened?" she asked, her eyes focused on the man who she now realized was the attractive one she had been eyeing earlier. She looked up at the man standing closest to her. "Well?"

"Um, not sure, I think he might've hit his head on a surfboard or something," the man said. Y/N could hear a thick accent in his voice, but she was too focused on the injured man to decipher it.

"Okay, okay, shit, where are the lifeguards?" Y/N looked up and around, but the sun had begun to set, and the lifeguards had packed up. She could feel her brain going a million miles an hour, thrown off by the unexpected situation.

The men seemed annoyed, not understanding what she was doing. "Focus, Y/N," her best friend said.

Y/N looked up at her. "Can you get a towel? There should be an emergency first aid kit in my bag." She then turned to the men, the whole group having moved closer. "Can you put him down gently over there, please?"

"I'm sorry, but who the hell are you?" one of them asked.

"I'm a doctor. Just listen to me, okay?" she snapped, her brain suddenly switching on. Her best friend came back, handing her the towel and kit.

Y/N folded the towel and slipped it underneath the barely conscious man's head. "Can you hold his head, please? It's important that he doesn't move too much to protect his spine." She then slipped off her t-shirt and pressed it gently against the wound, trying to minimize the bleeding. She checked his airways to make sure he was breathing properly and that there wasn't anything obstructing his breath. "Can someone keep holding this against his head?"

She went through the kit and grabbed what she needed. "Okay, the bleeding should have slowed down now. I need to clean it, so can you take that off gently?" Once the shirt was peeled back, she gently wiped the wound. "The wound isn't too deep; it should be fine," she noted, more to herself. She then grabbed a gauze pad and placed it against the wound. "Hold this," she said, grabbing the medical tape and securing the gauze with it. The boy was now more awake and aware of his surroundings.

"Does anything else hurt?" she asked the boy, looking down at him. He tried to shake his head, but she quickly stopped him. "Be careful, you might still be concussed," she said. She looked up at the group, who were watching her curiously. "Does anyone know when the ambulance will get here?" she asked.

"Oh shit, forgot to call them," one of them said, a thick Australian accent creeping out. She sighed exasperatedly. "Don't bother now, an ambulance will take too long." Her eyes flickered over to her best friend, who was looking at her expectantly. She sighed.

"Come with me, you still need proper medical care, not just a makeshift gauze," she said, talking to the boy who had first spoken to her. He raised a brow, and she sighed. "Look, I'd rather be relaxing and celebrating than whatever the hell we're doing right now, but your friend needs proper medical care, and I can't do that on the beach, okay?"

Y/N ended up taking the men—who she had found out were named Charles and Pierre—to the clinic in her car while the rest drove in their own. Her best friend couldn't come as she had to work.

"How old are you?" an unfamiliar voice spoke up from the backseat of her jeep. Y/N's eyes flickered up to make eye contact with the injured man. "Hmm?"

"How old are you?" the man repeated.

"Twenty-six," she replied. His brows furrowed in confusion. "You aren't even old enough to graduate med school."

"Special case," she said firmly. He picked up the hint that she no longer wanted to talk about it.

Soon they arrived in front of the clinic. "You two stay here, I'll grab a nurse to help get you inside. I'm not having you walking," she said firmly, about to head in before becoming extremely conscious of the fact that she was only in her bikini. "Here." The boy groaned, passing her a shirt with a logo on it. She smiled softly, muttering a small thanks before heading inside.

"Doctor Y/Ln, what are you doing here?" the receptionist asked, noting her attire. "No time, could you grab a wheelchair, please?" The nurse quickly picked up on the seriousness in her voice and hurried around to where Y/N was. Y/N led her outside to the car.

"Sit down," she said, gesturing to the wheelchair. The boy groaned. "You can't be serious."

"Now," she said firmly. He put his hands up in mock surrender and got into the wheelchair. The group of four then made their way into the clinic.

Everyone looked over at them, and nurses began whispering to each other, which Y/N brushed off. "Greta, can you take them to a spare room while I go get changed?"

Y/N headed back out once she had changed, still picking up on the glances thrown her way. She entered the patient room, tying her hair up. The two men looked up at her as she entered, Pierre's gaze lingering slightly longer, an unusual feeling rising in his chest. "Okay, Charles, I'm gonna get you to fill this form out while I check on our patient here." She passed him the clipboard and then instructed Pierre to sit on the patient bed.

"So, how did you become a doctor?" He sent her a look before focusing back on the bandage on his head. "What? It's a valid question. Okay, when did you become a doctor?" She sighed, knowing that he would continue to press for answers.

"I got my Doctor of Medicine nearly ten years ago, and I've been working here ever since." Pierre's brows furrowed in confusion.

"You must've been-"

"Sixteen? Yeah."

"That means you would've graduated at-"

"Eleven? Also yes," she said, checking for signs of a concussion. Pierre just looked at her in wonder.

"How?"

"Child prodigies do actually happen," she said, taking off his bandage.

They talked for a while longer, mainly Pierre asking her questions and her deflecting or straight-up ignoring him. "So, do you-"

"Done," she remarked, pulling away from him suddenly. Right before he was about to say something, a knock cut him off, Charles jumping from his spot where he had fallen asleep.

"Chief, sorry, I know you're busy, but can I get you to sign off the papers for the Anderson file?" Pierre's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Yeah, can you just put them down, and I'll have them for you tomorrow," she said, grabbing Pierre's file from the bench.

"So, Chief?" he asked once the nurse had left.

She smiled slightly, turning around to face him. "I guess I never introduced myself. Y/N Y/Ln, Chief of Medicine."

yourusername 🔒 has posted

liked by yourbsfusername and 17 others

yourusername 🔒 not the way i expected the day to go but not complaining

yourbsfusername you look hot in doctor mode

→ yourusername I WAS STRESSIN

friend1 Y/n OMG ANSWER MY TEXTS

→ yourusername bet

yourusername 🔒 has posted three stories

caption 1 getting spoilt rn

caption 2 yummm

caption 3 i was talking about the food guys obviously

liked by yourbsfusername and 9 others

yourbsfusername ditching me for a man 🙄

yourusername youll alway be my number 1

yourbsfusername good

friend2 omg whoo

yourusername thats a secret ill never tell

___________________________________

a/n: a bit short but ill probably make a pt 2 guys. idk if this is good.

[lilacgyuvin]

star — p. gunwook

pairing: gunwook x gn!reader

synopsis: gunwook unfortunately loses his wallet. luckily for him, a good samaritan is kind enough to trace the address on his i.d. and brings it straight to his doorstep! too bad it’s his newly ex-best friend (post-dramatic confession of love).

word count: 3.6k

warnings: highschool!au, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, BARELY proofread, jealous gunwookie, talks of falling out, misunderstandings, miscommunication, feat. seniors hanbin and seunghan (and eunseok), not to be taken serious this is just fiction!!

a/n: needed a break from writing that tattoo artist jiwoong au so i wrote this 🥸

Gunwook’ s lost his wallet.

It’s no big deal! It’s not like his whole life is in there or anything: his money, I.D., credit and debit card, along with his ultra rare Twicecoaster Lane 1 devil Nayeon photocard— yeah, he’d be fine without them.

He only realizes when he get’s on the train home from school, reaching for the photocard for emotional support after the shit week he’s had until he realizes it’s in his wallet which definitely isn’t in any of his pockets right now.

He finally lets out what he thinks is a quiet ‘fuck!’ after patting his pockets down and emptying out his backpack for the third time, which ends up not being as quiet as he originally thought, if the looks from the elderly couple sat across from him are anything to go by.

A few hours go by, and he’s still mourning the loss of devil Nayeon— oh, and all that other stuff too, he guesses. To get his mind off of things, Gunwook thinks a game of Fortnite with his loving friends would do the trick. It’s twenty minutes after when their entire squad gets wiped out (and proceed to get emoted on) is when he retracts that whole idea.

“I’m positive those guys were like, ten year olds. Do you know how embarrassing that is?!” Hanbin’s voice comes from Gunwook’s headset, meshing with the groans of Eunseok and the laughter of Seunghan on the other ends of the call.

“Obviously, it just happened to us! And the audacity. of Gyuvin to leave when he’s the reason we lost. His aim is so fucking ass,” Eunseok speaks loud and fast into his mic, making Gunwook wince at the volume. He seriously needs to start putting his volume down as soon as Eunseok joins. “Why do we still play with him? No, seriously someone answer me, why do we still play with him? Can we replace him with Y/n? Matter fact, I’m calling them right now I can’t do this.”

Seunghan’s laughter comes to a halt the minute their name is mentioned, just like Gunwook’s breathing for a split second.

“Eunseok.” Seunghan says his name and it sounds like Eunseok’s movements come to a stop, the only sound being that of the classic lobby music and the occasional Ps4 notification.

“... Does Gyuvin not have shit aim? I mean, we all saw that.” he says, and Hanbin then decides it’s his turn to speak up. “Maybe don’t talk about Y/n right now.”

It’s only now that Gunwook realizes he hadn’t told Eunseok about the whole ordeal this entire time, and it’s evident in the way he gasps from the other end of the call. “Y/n?! The fuck happened with Y/n? Oh my God please don’t tell me I have to cut them off they’re so fun. Speaking of, we have plans next week on Thursday to this new—”

“Eunseok seriously shut the fuck up.”

“ ‘Kay I’m gonna go heat up my hot pockets.”

Gunwook feels bad since he’s kind of the reason why Eunseok got cursed out by Seunghan. He’ll make it up to him after the upcoming, full on expected pep talk from Hanbin.

“You two still aren’t talking?” he asks the same time Eunseok logs off, and Gunwook thinks that maybe he too can escape this if he leaves without a second thought. He then realizes that Hanbin can literally just call him after he leaves, so he decides to dish it out and get it over with, mumbling his next words. “Well they’re not talking to me.”

It sounds childish, but he wasn’t lying! “The phone works both ways, Gunwook.” he sighs, the sounds of him readjusting in his seat being heard before he’s continuing, “Was it that embarrassing?”

Gunwook forgets that he didn’t explain the extent of the situation to his senior, so it isn’t entirely Hanbin’s fault that he thinks that Gunwook is simply embarrassed, but he can’t help the groan that follows anyway. “It’s not just that. It’s- I can’t even say.”

It’s nothing personal, really— everyone knows that Sunghoon and Y/n used to go out (for a mere 5 months, so Gunwook doesn’t even care for real!). What people didn’t know was how they swore to Gunwook that they’d never get back with him, not even for a second, so when Gunwook finally realizes the feelings he has for his best friend and decides to do something about them (queue chocolates and flowers at the end of the school day), the last thing he expects to see is Y/n and fucking Sunghoon, holding each other in a warm hug, like they’d shrivel up and die if they were to part.

Gunwook wished that had happened to him when he walks into the empty classroom, the wrapping from the flower arrangement in his hands startling the two out of their tight embrace. They looked like a pair of deer caught in headlights, frozen in place as they watch Gunwook’s word die on his tongue, mouth agape as he tries to restore them.

“Sorry. Bad time.” it’s the only coherent thing he can manage to say before he’s making a beeline for the door, too embarrassed and upset to verbalize the rest of his thoughts. Never getting back together, huh? Gunwook’s feeling a lot of things in this current moment, but the one that sticks out the most is how utterly stupid he feels. It’s so intense it almost drives him to anger, but he’s on the train home before it can get to that point, free from the fear of them running after him.

He isn’t particularly proud of what he does when they text him almost immediately after the whole ordeal, only responding after he gets home.

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: omg i’m so sorry i totally forgot you asked to meet up

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: we were just talking

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: did you still wanna talk? where’d you go??

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: gunwook??

You:

sorry i had to rush home

You:

its fine tho lol

You:

i was just gonna ask your opinion on

the flowers i got

You:

they’re for eunchae

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: oh

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: i didn’t know you liked eunchae?

You:

yup

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: okay well then yeah they’re really pretty

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: she’ll really like them

You:

thanks 🙌

Okay don’t look at him like that. He had to save face! He feels bad as soon as he spews the lie out, but then he remembers the way his heart dropped to his ass at the sight of Y/n and Sunghoon hugging, and convinces himself that maybe this was for the best.

What Gunwook doesn’t expect are the two weeks that follow. To describe them in two words: extremely awkward. The following morning, instead of the two taking the train together like they normally do, Gunwook makes up some lame excuse about being late and ends up taking the longer way. They talk during the classes they have together, but it’s all stiff and feels uncomfortable, despite anyone saying anything about it. Going home is the same as the morning was, yet this time it was Y/n who couldn’t make it, saying they had to visit a relative after school.

It was always easy for the two to tell whenever the other was lying, but Gunwook wants to give them the benefit of the doubt, seeing as he wasn’t so truthful himself just recently. When the two do arrive home, there are no texts exchanged or calls that go on for hours on end like usual, and it makes Gunwook uneasy, but the feeling of being rejected without actually being rejected was more prominent in that moment, so he left it alone.

He didn’t know that the lack of communication on both ends would lead to them not talking at all, though! It didn’t help that he’d see them talking with Sunghoon again in the hallway only two days later, rubbing a reassuring hand along their arm, which then prompts him to talk with Eunchae during the period he knows he shares with Y/n. That day is what really set the tone for the rest of the week, he thinks; no calls or texts, passing each other through the hallways, and going home together came to a dead end. All the little things that made Gunwook not absolutely hate school were taken away from him, and he feels it’s partially his fault which made it suck even more.

It took his friends, including his seniors, only two days to realize that something was wrong, which is what’s prompted Hanbin to lecture him every chance he gets for the past two weeks.

“Well maybe you should text them anyway. I bet they miss you just as much as you miss them, right Seunghan?”

There’s absolutely no way Seunghan was listening in, seeing as he doesn’t answer til five seconds later when Hanbin clears his throat. “Oh! Yes, definitely.”

“What are you even here for.”

“Emotional support? I don’t know man, I just wanted to play Fortnite.”

“Seunghan.”

Seunghan whines at the disapproving tone of Hanbin’s voice, not sure how he got roped into being scolded alongside Gunwook. Hanbin’s just that good, he guesses.

“Ugh okay fine. Not gonna lie Gunwook, seeing you two not talking is really depressing, for all of us, and honestly super unsettling. Just tell them how you feel and maybe don’t lie to your crush about having a crush who isn’t actually your crush. How’d I do Hanbin?”

“Absolutely terrible. Please log off.”

Before Seunghan can defend himself against what Hanbin identifies as Useless Senior Syndrome™, there’s a steady knock coming from the front door, successfully getting Gunwook out of the lecturing. “Thanks guys, but I have to go.”

The two can barely bid their goodbyes before Gunwook is logging off, scurrying down the steps as the knocking increases in speed.

“I’m coming!” he half-screams. He knows it isn’t his mom because she always has her keys, so it’s okay that he raised his voice a bit. He honestly thinks it’s Yujin from next door, most likely wanting to borrow Gunwook’s switch again after he miraculously submerged his own into water. He swears to God if he doesn’t return it back on time again—

Oh. This isn’t Yujin.

What stood in front of him held waves of familiarity: one being the navy blue leather-skinned wallet he’d gotten gifted by a relative a while back, the one that’s been home to his ultra rare Twicecoaster Lane 1 devil Nayeon photocard for years now— and the other being the person he’s gotten to know over the past seven years, who’s favorite foods he’s mastered and whose voice he can point out in a room full of thousands. The one who sits through the same old episodes of ‘Haikyuu!!’ with him, despite already seeing them multiple times. His best friend, who he hasn’t talked to in over two weeks, over his own fears and insecurities, is now at his front doorstep with his wallet in their hand, face unreadable to Gunwook for the first time since they’ve met.

“You forgot your wallet in Ms. Chwe’s class.”

Ms.Chwe’s class; the last period that they share with each other, where he was too busy trying to avoid Y/n’s gaze so in turn chatted up anyone who’d listen, not paying enough attention to the wallet that was falling out of his front pocket. Gunwook can’t even feel relieved that his most prized possession is safe, nor can he think of a way to make it anyone else’s fault at the moment given that his (ex?) best friend, who he hasn’t even glanced at in 14 days, is standing at his door with it in hand.

‘What am I supposed to even say?’ The silence that follows after still isn’t as embarrassing as that cursed Wednesday two weeks ago, so he tried to avoid saying anything that may exceed that level. “Thanks… okay bye.”

Okay what the fuck was that. He almost slams his head against the door, but he thankfully doesn’t have to dwell on it for too long, as they’re speaking before he knows it.

“You seriously don’t wanna talk about this?” They say, and Gunwook doesn’t know why it shocks him— they’d always been the confrontational type when needed.

“What do you wanna talk about?” He thinks it’s a pretty valid question, given that they could be referring to multiple things, but Y/n apparently doesn’t think so, if the roll of their eyes were anything to go by.

“You can’t be serious. About how you’ve been ignoring me for the longest!”

“Wha- only because you’ve been ignoring me!”

“That’s what most people do when someone’s been ignoring them first, dumbass.”

Gunwook huffs, he almost forgot how stubborn the both of them could be. “This is going nowhere. Just- come inside.” He gives up, decides to be the bigger person and let them in, not wanting their first interaction in so long to be an argument outside his door. Also because Yujin can be quite the creep and likes to instigate arguments from his bedroom window (he knows this because they’ve done it together).

They make themselves comfortable on the couch best associated with movie nights and hot cocoa during winter break, sitting on opposite ends. The air feels stale, and Gunwook feels like he has to say something before he can let the silence linger any longer. “D’you want some wate-”

“What did I do to you?” he’s cut off, the voice quieter prior to it outside. They turn to face Gunwook with hands gripping both knees reassuringly and— are they crying? “I mean, I’ve been trying to figure it out for so long, but I can't think of anything. Was it the flowers? Did she not like them?”

Gunwook wants to wipe off the face of the Earth. Not only were they crying, but they were kind enough to consider the feelings of others while nursing their own, successfully breaking his heart, while also making him feel unfathomably shitty.

He’s by their side in less than a second, not quite sure what to do with his hands as he lets out a stream of ‘no no no’ and ‘please don’t cry’. They won’t even look at him this time either, opting out to facing the wall in front of them instead. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/n.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

Gunwook sighs, finally deciding to rest his hands on his thighs. “I’m going to tell you, but you have to tell me why you were too, okay?” He asks and they nod almost immediately. “And you can’t laugh either. Seriously, I will kick you out.”

“I’ll walk out myself if you don’t spit it out already.” They attempt to say it threateningly, but they’re pouting and Gunwook hates how cute he finds it, considering their current circumstances.

“Okay I was getting there,” He can’t help the snark remark, and he half blames it on the fact that he’s about to do the thing that he never got to two weeks ago: confess his undying love for his best friend of over seven years to said best friend. Folding his hands atop his legs, Gunwook takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a split second before opening them as he exhales.

“Those flowers weren’t for anyone but you.” He’s not facing them, he absolutely cannot right now, instead focusing his gaze on his now sweaty hands, but he still hears the hitch in their breathing— it’s as clear as day. “I was going to give them to you, tell you about my feelings, but then I saw you with fucking Sunghoon, and I- I don’t know. I just felt so embarrassed and stupid and angry, so I came up with that stupid lie,” He finally finds the courage to face them, looking up to find their eyes already on him. “I’m sorry.”

Silence follows, and Gunwook fully expects it, but fuck was it agonizing. His face is practically on fire and he doesn’t want to break eye contact because he wants to ‘assert male dominance’ or whatever the hell Eunseok was going on about that one time he gave advice absolutely no one asked for, but it’s getting harder as the seconds go by and he just might explode right where he sits.

“Gunwook. You’re not gonna believe this but I was talking to Sunghoon about you,” Oh thank God they broke the silence— but what did they say? “I wanted to know if it’d make things weird between you and him if I asked you out or something, since you two are on the same dance team. I was also asking for advice on how to do it, since I’ve never asked anyone out before. I was going to the day after, but then you said you wanted to confess to Eunchae and I got really upset, I didn’t want to see your face at all.”

It’s now Gunwook’s turn to stare in silence, his previous anxious feeling replaced with one that screamed ‘what the fuck is happening I can’t believe this is happening right now’.

“What.” It’s all he can manage to say at the moment— if he felt stupid before, it’s definitely hitting harder this time around. He was avoiding his crush (who also has a crush on him, apparently?!), his best friend, all over nothing. His cheeks are becoming hot again and he feels like crying.

In classic Gunwook fashion, he does the most rational thing he can think of at the moment and bows his head beside their lap, clasping his hands in front of it as he lets out streams of ‘I’m sorry’, catching them completely off guard.

“Get up! It’s fine Gunwook, seriously." They reassure him, but he doesn’t dare get up from his position, only raising his head ever so slightly. “You still like me? Even though I lied to you and made you cry?”

They seem to find humor in his current predicament, giggling as they move a hand to pat his head. “I shed one tear. And dude, I lied too. I’m sorry as well, I was just scared.” It’s said with earnest, and Gunwook can feel it through their gaze once he finally gains the courage to lift himself up, his confidence fully restored. “Okay if we’re gonna date, you cannot call me dude anymore.”

“Is this you asking me out for real this time?” A hint of amusement makes its way onto their face, lolling their head to the side as they ask.”

“Yes. Wait no.” The switch up visibly confuses them, even more so when Gunwook gets up from his seat, instructing them to ‘wait here’ as he runs to the kitchen, coming back with a single flower. “My mom wouldn’t let them go to waste. They’re in a vase and she’ll kill me if I take all of them.”

They laugh, both because Gunwook was so so sweet and because his mom really would kill him. “Will you go out with me?” He knows it’s short, but he could tell them all the things he likes about them over takeout, and he really wants to kiss them right now.

“That was lackluster,” They say as they snatch the flower from their hands, but their actions are words are laced with playfulness, and they contradict themselves when they move to embrace him in a warm hug. “But yes, since you asked so nicely.”

Gunwook almost shoves them away if it weren’t for how intimate the current moment was. He’s glad they can still play around after spending so much time apart from each other. “Shut up! I just wanted to kiss you already. Wait, would that be weird?”

They look up, contemplating it for a second before they look back at him with a shrug. “I don’t know, but you can give me a kiss on the cheek. The one that isn’t wet.”

He takes takes that as a win, holding their damp cheek in favor of landing a peck on the opposite. Then another on their forehead. And another on the same cheek, but in a different place. It soon turns to him showering them with kisses all over, causing them to fall back on the cushions as they begin to laugh, taking Gunwook down with them as he refuses to stop. “Gunwook! I said one!”

He doesn’t even have the mind to grace them with an answer as he joins them in laughter, too overjoyed and buoyant with that fact that he’s now free from many things; free from hiding his feelings, from his insecurities now that their feelings were laid bare and are mutual, and free from pretending that he was okay letting his best friend falls into the hands of another. He no longer has to worry about any of that though, as they’re right where he wants them, where he deems perfect.

The cafeteria is booming as always, Gunwook and his friends (seniors and same-age mates alike) already seated at their table as they await the arrival of a few others. None of them say anything about the way Gunwook and Y/n are holding hands under the table, but there are definitely shared glances exchanged between Hanbin and Seunghan.

It’s only been two days since Gunwook’s actual successful confession, and they still have yet to say it outright, so they’ve just decided to let everyone come to their own conclusions. He thinks they’re on the right track though, with the way they shot him a thumbs up from across the table.

“Y/n!” It’s yelled from behind them, making the entire table, if not the whole cafeteria turn their heads to the source of the noise. Gunwook wishes he could say he was surprised as to who it was.

Eunseok practically tackles Y/n with the force in which he runs to their side, engulfing them in a hug from behind. “I thought I was gonna lose you! Don’t tell Gunwook, but you’ve always been my favorite junior.”

“I’m right here.”

“Shut up dont ruin this for me.”

a/n: we all know gunwook would be a communication king but i wanted to write this anyway. and guys i promise i can write things other than love confessions gimme like two weeks!!! also recs are open likes + reblogs are always appreciated ty baii

[toomuchracket]

haunted house (dad!george x reader fluff)

more promptober! just a fun fic about you and the kids making plans for when george gets home. enjoy! <3

the bell for the end of the day rings just as you make it through the school gates, wet autumn leaves on the ground and the wriggly three-year-old in your arms doing nothing but hindering an already-running-late you. panting slightly, you carefully set cara down and try to catch your breath, ruffling her hair as she clings to your leg.

you're not really sure why you rushed, to be honest; connor's the most laid-back five-year-old you've ever heard of, with a habit of swanning out of school a few minutes after most of his classmates have bolted out of the playground, and you know you would have been there waiting for him in plenty of time had you walked from the car instead of running. still, you don't want to chance it, you'd rather wait for your son than have it be the other way around.

and you do wait - seven minutes (and three games of hopscotch with your daughter) after the school day ends, connor finally deigns to leave the building, chatting away to dylan as they wander over to you. at the sight of her brother and for-all-intents-and-purposes cousin, cara speeds over to them to say hello; when the three of them walk closer to you, you can see the smug little grin on her face at getting to hang out with the “big kids”, even though there's barely two years between her and them.

you grin back at them, amused at the (classic daniel/healy) height difference between the two five-year-olds. “hi, munchkins. y'alright? took you a while to leave school today.”

“dyl couldn't find her water bottle, mum,” connor throws himself into a cuddle, which you reciprocate eagerly. “but i helped her.”

your goddaughter corroborates this, giving you a hug of her own in greeting. “yeah cos we have the same one and no-one else has it because they're from our dads’ work. but mine has an sticker that's pink,” she almost whacks you with said water bottle in her haste to show you the barbie sticker half-stuck over the 75 logo. “it was at the sink and not my seat.”

“oh, well, that's good you got it,” you pat her head. “did your dad tell you this morning that it would be me picking you up because mummy's not feeling well?”

“yeah. he said baby's making her tummy sore, so i'm going home in the car with you.”

“that's right,” you take cara's hand, heading out towards the almost-empty car park. “let's go to the car now, babies.”

“mum!” connor looks aghast. “we're not babies. i'm five.”

“i'm nearly six,” dylan says proudly. “when baby gets here i'll be six. and lena will be four. and you too, cara.”

your youngest looks at you, brow furrowed; you have to stop yourself giggling at how much she looks like george. “i'll be four?”

“yes, angel. you and lena won't be the tiny babies any more, will you? we'll all have an actual baby to look after.”

cara hums, too preoccupied to be excited about the thought of a new friend. “will i get a party when i'm four?”

“oh, i think so,” you unlock the car, scooping her up with a kiss to her cheek before settling her into her carseat. “you know what dad and matty are like. any excuse to celebrate! right, dyl, you get in there, darling, watch your step,” fastening her seatbelt, you shout across the girls to your son. “you alright, con?”

“mhmm!”

you check anyway - he's fine - before getting in yourself. “alright, munchkins, home time.”

what should only be a ten-minute drive to the healy house actually ends up being twenty-five because of traffic, but it's pleasant enough - the kids are good as gold, patiently playing i spy, softly giggling the whole time and warming your heart. you knew all along that your babies would be best friends with your best friends’, but seeing dylan - tiny for her age, shockingly tentative from birth - yap and laugh along with your two like this is a heartwarming (and only slightly terrifying) indication that the kids will genuinely end up being as close (read: codependent) as their fathers are.

their fathers, who are still at the studio working diligently, you learn when your friend waddles (there's no other word for it) out to the car to get dylan despite you yelling “stay there! i'll bring her up!” repeatedly when you reach her house. she rolls her eyes as she tells you, absentmindedly rubbing her baby bump, an air of vague exhaustion hanging around her. “according to matthew, they're working on until half 6 tonight, so they can take the weekend off and do final tweaks on monday, and that's them done,” she scoffs. “can you believe that?”

“of course not. george has been promising to be home at half 4 for the past three weeks,” you snort. “and as for final tweaks…”

“oh, another month, at least.”

“literally. that baby girl of yours might arrive before they send that final mix off.”

“don't, i'm actually nervous about that,” she giggles, cradling her stomach before pulling you into a hug. “i'd better go before elena tries to cut her own hair again. d'you want to do dinner next friday, us and the kids - and the boys, if they ever unchain themselves from that mixing desk?”

“i'll bring starters and dessert,” you kiss her cheek. “take it easy, alright?”

“yeah. hope you get to see your husband this weekend, babe!”

“you too!”

you really, really hope you do; after an hour in tesco, you and the kids get home well after george's originally-planned home time, and your heart sinks when you unlock the door to the lights still off and no sign of him, other than the half-drunk coffee he left this morning and a couple of cigarette butts in the kitchen ashtray. moments like these are sometimes harder than when he's actually away touring, you think - it's less upsetting missing george when there are oceans between you than it is when you're ships in the night in the same house.

still, you've got the kids to keep you distracted from being melancholy; it's impossible to be anything other than overjoyed when your sweet babies insist on group cuddles on the sofa while you watch another episode of balamory, or when the two of them run to get their stepstools so they can watch you make fajitas for dinner with genuine interest (well, connor more than cara), or during dinner itself, when connor collapses into contagious giggles at the sight of his little sister’s face covered in guacamole. but they miss their dad, too, despite all the happiness, as admitted by cara while she's clinging onto you in piggyback while you do the dishes. “when's daddy home?”

you sigh, doing your best to keep the sadness out of it. “m'not sure yet, angel. he'll phone when he's leaving his work, though.”

“‘kay,” she digs her little chin into your shoulder, only slightly uncomfortably for you. “will he read me a story?”

“i bet he will,” you put away the last plate, wiping your hands before swinging her round to hold her in front of you; once her laughter subsides, you speak again. “daddy loves reading stories to you and connor.”

cara nods. “and he hasn't done it in ages.”

well, four days, but to a three-year-old… that probably feels like an eternity. the thought brings a lump to your throat. “he will, though, soon, munchkin. daddy will be home soon, and he'll read you a bedtime story,” biting back a sniffle, you spot a parenting advantage. “that is, if you brush your teeth extra well once you put your pyjamas on. yeah?”

“yeah!”

ironically, coincidentally, whatever you want to call it, the omw home text from george flashes up on your watch during cara's bathtime, the last step in what her dad likes to call “the ‘pre-bedtime routine’ routine”. she squeals when you tell her, kicking her little legs with such enthusiasm that half the bathwater ends up over you, and her brother rushes into the room in a panic. “what's going on? why is cara screaming? is she ok?”

wriggling even as you lift her into a cosy towel, cara answers. “yeah! daddy's coming to read us a story!”

“oh!” your son's face lights up. “really, mummy?”

“yes, darling, he just sent a message,” you confirm. “d'you want to go and choose a book while i get cara into her pyjamas? and then we can wait for him together?”

“mhmm” connor moves to leave, but turns back in the doorway to look at the two of you. there's a familiar smile on his face, and you're not sure whether to be worried about whatever sneaky thing he's about to suggest or pissed off that both of your kids look nothing like you. “or…”

you brace yourself. “or what, con?”

“we don't wait and we hide and then jump out and surprise him.”

the laugh escapes your lips before you even realise. fuck it. “alright. let's do it…”

the cheers you get in response are deafening.

“... but,” you raise your eyebrows pointedly. “only if you pick a book for your bedtime story now, connor,” matching his nods, you turn to your youngest in her towel cocoon. “and you brush your teeth properly, like we agreed earlier.”

cara nods so excitedly that the towel falls off her head. connor laughs, and you can't help chuckling either. “okay, babies - don't get stroppy, con, you're gonna be my babies forever, alright? anyway,” you ruffle his hair. “we'll hide in the wardrobe in your room. d'you want to wait there for me and cara, munchkin?”

“yeah!” he darts off, and seconds later you hear him rifling through the little bookshelf in his bedroom. “i picked a book!”

“good boy!” you call, before turning back to your still-beaming girl. “will you be good, madam?”

she nods sweetly. and she really is - there isn't a peep of a complaint at all. not while you're drying and dressing her, not during teeth-brushing, not even when you've got her sat on the bathroom counter as you brush and braid her hair, which is usually something she prefers george doing “cos it's not sore when daddy does it”. 

whatever. at least you still have hair.

hyper-aware of the fact that time is of the essence, you comb through cara's fringe once more, before scooping her up into your arms and kissing her little cheek. “what do we think, munchkin - d'you think you look good?”

“hmmm,” cara squints at her reflection, then grins. “yeah!”

“i think so too. shall we go and get connor and wait for daddy?”

a nod against your shoulder, and off you go on the short jaunt to your son's room. connor's already sitting in the massive built-in wardrobe, book in hand and an eager smile on his face. you smile in return, settling down beside him and pulling the cupboard door almost fully-closed; you're careful to leave a crack in front of you, so you'll be able to see your husband when he arrives. which, actually, should be imminently, so you'd better come up with a game plan. you tug your kids close to you. “so, when daddy gets here-”

“mum, why are you being quiet?” the confusion is evident on connor's sweet little face even in the minimal light. “dad isn't here yet.”

he's got a point. you blink. “true. anyway, like i was saying, when he does get here… wait for me to open the door, and then you can jump on daddy, yeah?”

“can we shout too?”

“i don't see why not. but no bad words, you - just because you've heard matty say them doesn't mean you can,” you point at connor, before turning to cara. “and no screaming from you, you hear me?”

“yes, mummy.”

“good,” your eyes widen at the sound of the front door opening, closely followed by george shouting a greeting as he dumps his bag, and your voice shifts to a whisper. “quiet, now, alright? let's see how long it takes daddy to find us.”

there's a whispered chorus of agreements, and then - miraculously - your kids go silent, aside from the quick little huffs of air signifying silent giggling; these get more frequent when you all hear george wandering around downstairs, calling your names in turn and humming to himself in bewilderment. when his footsteps become audible on the stairs, cara practically wraps herself around your arm, all but shaking with kinetic energy and clutching her brother's hand as they hear their father reach the landing. 

you, too, are laughing to yourself as you listen to george opening and closing doors in search, monologuing as he goes. “nowhere to be seen and they've left every bloody light in the building on. s'like blackpool illuminations,” comes the gravel grumbling so characteristic to the love of your life, as he wanders into what you know is the bathroom; he sniffs loudly, and you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from cackling. “strawberry shampoo… cara's bedtime routine. maybe everyone's in,” another door opens. “here! oh. empty. must be in connor's room, then.”

three strides across the landing, and there he is - george, his tiredness obvious even through the tiny crack between wardrobe doors. he turns slowly, taking in the emptiness of the room (and making your heart glow when you catch a glimpse of his pretty face), and - as if by magic - stops with his back to the wardrobe, muttering “where are they?” to himself.

partially out of slight guilt for putting him through this, but mostly because you think connor and cara might explode if you make them wait any longer to surprise their dad, you push the wardrobe doors open. the kids fly out, little voices shouting “hi dad!” and “we're here!” as little bodies land on george's massive one; he gasps in shock, and you're extremely thankful for the victorian high ceilings in your house, because your husband's head (and the rest of him, probably) would absolutely have hit anything lower when he jumped in abject terror. he sinks to the floor, head in his hands. “jesus christ,” he sighs, before standing and tucking a kid under each arm, swinging them around and filling the room with laughter. “you meanies, surprising me like that. i thought you'd all run away and left me!”

“we would never,” you step forward, taking cara into your own arms and pecking george on the lips. “we like playing tricks on you too much.”

“yes, that one's obvious,” george rolls his eyes; his face breaks into a big smile, and he kisses your nose. “hi, by the way, angel. thanks for the interesting welcome home.”

“i wish i could take credit.”

“oh? it wasn't mummy?” george dramatically looks from kid to kid. “who's the evil genius among us, then?”

cara giggles, nuzzling her head into your neck. “connor.”

“reeeeeeeeally?” george cocks his head to look at his boy, who's grinning from ear to ear. “s'that right, munchkin? it was your idea?”

connor giggles. “yeah.”

“in that case, then,” george tickles your son through his t-shirt, smiling at the raucous giggles that follow - from cara, too, actually. “say sorry, and i'll stop.”

“sorry! sorrysorrysorry!” connor's laughs fade to little hums, and he snuggles into his dad while they both catch their breath. “mummy planned it though. tickle her!”

george winks at you. “oh, i will, later. but first,” he flicks your son on the nose. “bathtime? and then a bedtime story for the little ones?”

cara nods. “and then mummy and daddy bedtime?”

“once i've redone your hair, munchkin? i think so,” your husband smiles at you, eyes twinkling. “of sorts, at least. you up for that, sweetheart?”

“oh, absolutely.”

[hermitcraftguesstheauthorevent]

GUESS THE AUTHOR IS BACK!

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