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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Sweet Like Grenadine

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You love weddings. However, you don’t love being stuck by yourself at a wedding, a plus one to a boyfriend who’s too busy for you. Enter Daniel Ricciardo, your knight in shining armor.

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: thought of this concept and couldn’t get Danny out of my head. He’s soooo guy you flirt with at a wedding and will probably never see again coded

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content (heavy makeout? idrk how to tag this stuff), one (1) shitty boyfriend

The table in front of you is draped with a heavy white tablecloth. At the center is a large bouquet of flowers, the number 19 stuck haphazardly in the middle of it. Not last, but certainly low on the list. You can’t blame them- you barely know the bride and groom.

You’re only here because your boyfriend is a groomsman. A plus one. You love weddings, so of course you’d agreed, but you hadn’t really considered how lonely an event like this could be. The only person you really know has been busy all day. You can’t complain, won’t complain, you know that’s why he’s here, but…

You’re sitting at a table full of strangers. It’s not exactly fun. There’s still hours left of this. Dinner hasn’t even been served, there’s still speeches and cake and dancing and honestly, you’re already exhausted. You need a drink, but the bar isn’t open yet. You need to take off your heels, but you’re pretty sure that would be frowned upon. You need to talk to your boyfriend.

He’s busy, though. He told you as much when you found him between the ceremony and the reception. There’s a pang in your chest still at the way he brushed you off, the way he told you he didn’t have time to chat. You get it, you really do. You’re not going to get upset about it.

The seat to your left has been empty since you sat down, but someone collapses into it, letting out a heavy sigh. You turn to look, hoping for some sort of familiar face or at least a friendly one, and you’re met with-

“Hi. ‘M Daniel,” he says, sticking his hand out to shake yours.

The thing is, Daniel is a familiar face, but not for any of the reasons you’d hoped for. You know Daniel because your boyfriend is obsessed with Formula 1. You try to keep up so you can take part in his conversations, but it’s never really been your thing. But you know enough to know Daniel Ricciardo.

“Yeah, I… I know,” you say, before you slap your hand over your mouth. “Shit! I’m sorry. That’s weird. S’just- my boyfriend’s a huge fan-“

You swear his face drops slightly, but he plasters that grin right back on before he says, “and you’re not a fan?”

“I’m not not a fan,” you say. “He’s just the bigger fan. Of the two of us.”

Daniel nods. You finally shake his hand. He never stops looking at you, never stops smiling. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back to you, his accented version making you smile.

“Well, is he here? I’d love to meet the bigger of the two fans,” he says. “We talking, like, box fan, industrial blower, air boat fan? How big?”

You laugh, his hand squeezing yours as you lean over the table. He’s laughing, too, then, before he lets go of your hand. You want to crawl out of your skin, want to run and hide in the bathroom, because you’re definitely making a fool of yourself, but-

“Oh, he’s busy,” you say, waving your hand in the air dismissively. “He’s one of the groomsmen, got a lot on his plate. I don’t wanna bug him. He’s the one with the sunglasses on,” you say, pointing at him at the head table.

Daniel looks where you point and quirks his brow. “Guy like that has a girl like you and you’re the one worried about bugging him?”

You stare at him with wide eyes. He collapses into a fit of laughter again, and you follow suit. You don’t know what else to do. Then he nudges your knee with his, under the table, and juts his chin towards the bar.

“D’you want a drink?” He asks.

“The bar isn’t open yet,” you say.

“So?”

“So, how are you going to get a drink?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you just watch and learn. What’re you having?”

You shrug. “A soda, I guess. I’m the designated driver for at least three of the groomsmen.”

Daniel sighs heavily. “You poor thing. You keep making me feel worse and worse for you. Alright, I’ll get you something.”

He strides his way up to the bar, which has a very obvious “Closed” sign on the countertop. There’s a single bartender behind it, and he’s cleaning glasses. You watch with entertainment as Daniel leans on the counter, exuding confidence and charm. The bartender shakes his head. Daniel counters. The man behind the bar shrugs and nods. Then he steps through a door for just a moment. When he returns, he has two drinks in his hands- one that’s obviously a beer, and one that’s bright pink. Daniel smiles, thanks the man, and walks the cups back to you.

He sets it down in front of you with a flourish before he takes a seat.

“I told you, I’m DD,” you remind him.

He nods, taking a sip of his beer before he says, “Shirley Temple.”

“Oh my god,” you say, a grin washing over your face. You pick up the cup and take a sip, sighing at the sweet taste of ginger ale and grenadine. “How did you know?”

“Everyone loves a good Shirley,” he says, elbowing you lightly. “And you can’t drink just plain soda at a wedding.”

They announce dinner shortly after that, and the waiters start bringing plates out. You’re starving, having been up early to help with last minute wedding things at your boyfriend’s request. You hadn’t had time to eat lunch. You chat with Daniel through the meal. The two of you talk about the food, about the wedding, about the decor. There are other people at the table, but they’re all incredibly boring in comparison. Daniel, on the other hand, could hold your attention forever, probably.

You sneak glances at your boyfriend, surrounded by his friends at the head table. He’d promised to sneak away as soon as he got a chance. He hasn’t even looked your way. You're trying to ignore the hurt deep in your chest. Daniel is sneaking glances at you sneaking glances at the bridal party. You’re trying to ignore that, too.

“How long have you two been dating?” Daniel asks.

“About 6 months,” you say with a smile.

It feels forced. Frankly, the last thing you want to talk about right now is your boyfriend. They’re clearing the last plates. He’s at his table, three beers in by your count, not a care in the world. He promised. Daniel opens his mouth, likely to ask another question about your boyfriend, but you speak first.

“So wait, are you here for the bride or the groom?” You ask.

“The bride,” Daniel says , a soft smile on his face. “An old family friend. I’m representing the Ricciardos.”

You smile. “That’s sweet.”

Before he can say anything in response, someone is tapping on a microphone. It’s time for the speeches. You know your boyfriend isn’t making one, which is good. He’s not exactly the best public speaker, especially when he’s been drinking. You and Daniel settle in to listen.

He sneaks away between the maid of honor and the best man, patting the back of your hand and whispering about being right back. He returns a few moments later, another beer and a Shirley Temple in his hands. You smile gratefully at him, and he waves you off. Then the next speech is starting, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way the best man talks about marriage like it’s some awful idea.

“He knows this is a wedding, yeah?” Daniel asks out of the side of his mouth, leaning towards you.

You shrug. “That one started drinking at 9am. I’m not sure he even knows what year it is right now.”

Daniel starts laughing, then. Luckily, the rest of the crowd does too- apparently, the best man has just made an extremely funny joke. Daniel is only looking at you, though, and you can’t help but laugh just because of the look on his face.

When the first dances are over and the music starts, you sink low into your seat. Your boyfriend has still not made an appearance. He definitely knows where you’re sitting, he had told you so earlier. You’re sure he’s busy, but you’d looked away for too long, talking to Daniel, and now he’s disappeared from the head table. You scan the crowd, hoping to see his face. All the while, you can feel Daniel watching you.

“We could go dance,” he suggests.

You sink lower in your seat. “I don’t really like dancing.”

That’s a lie. You love dancing, especially at weddings. You love the cheesy songs they always play, you love the atmosphere, you love watching the bride and groom have fun and getting to be a part of it. But you know how it would look if you went out on the dance floor with Daniel, and your boyfriend definitely won’t be joining you. As frustrated as you may be with your him, you don’t want to cause drama at someone else’s best day of their lives.

“I think I might try and find him,” you say, picking up your drink.

Daniel nods. “Want me to come with you?”

You look around at the rest of the table and find it empty. You shake your head and lean towards him, close enough that you almost knock your foreheads. Nobody’s watching the two of you or trying to listen anyways, but it’s more fun this way.

“He promised he’d find me before dinner,” you whisper conspiratorially. “That obviously didn’t happen. So I’m not bringing you to him as a reward for bad behavior.”

Daniel sits back in his chair and smiles at you, one brow raised. “Atta girl!”

You stand up from your chair and hope he can’t tell that your face has grown hot from that comment alone.

Even if you can’t find your boyfriend, it’s probably best that you get some space from Daniel. Through the last hour or so of your conversation, you’ve been catching yourself leaning towards him and then reminding yourself that you have a boyfriend. It’s just that he’s being so nice, and that you’re feeling so down about the whole thing. He’s comforting, which is fine. But it can’t be more than that.

You find your boyfriend at one of the bars, leaning on the counter and talking loudly with one of the other groomsmen. He’s drunk already- he should really slow down if he wants to last the night. You walk over to him, forcing a soft smile onto your face. You can’t confront him now, not in front of his friend and all the people waiting for drinks.

“Hey, babe,” you say, tapping his shoulder lightly as you walk up.

He turns. You wait for him to smile at you, but it never comes. Your stomach sinks.

“Hey,” he says, nonchalantly. “D’you need something?”

Your palms feel clammy. “Oh, no, I’m good! Just… wanted to say hi. S’been a bit.”

He nods. “Yeah. I told you I’d be busy tonight.”

His friend just stands there and listens. Your skin feels hot, and your eyes begin to sting.

“I know,” you say. “I’m not trying to bug you, I just- I was just walking by. Just. Yeah. That’s all. I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’ll come find you in a bit, baby,” he promises.

You don’t bother believing him this time.

Daniel doesn’t comment on your red eyes or the tear tracks on your cheeks when you return to the table. He just squeezes your arm and disappears for a moment, then comes back with yet another Shirley Temple. You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so you just take a sip of the drink instead.

“You don’t have to sit here with me,” you say to Daniel. “I’m definitely pulling down the mood.”

“Are you joking?” He says. “You’re the best thing at this party.”

You laugh, then, because the statement is so ridiculous that you can’t help it. He sounds so serious, and when you turn to look at him there’s no hint of teasing on his face. He just elbows your arm lightly again.

“Come on, we don’t have to dance but we’re not sitting here all night,” he says. “Let’s go wander.”

He stands from the table and tugs at your chair. You give in and stand up too, taking your drink from the table. You follow him as he weaves through the throngs of people. You like wandering. Wandering is a perfectly sensible thing to do with the guy you just met. At the wedding your boyfriend is a groomsman at. What else are you supposed to do, anyways?

He leads you past the dance floor, which you try not to look at forlornly. There are large glass doors at the back of the hall. He swings one open, holding it for you, waving you through with a flourish of his hand. Outside, it’s lit up with string lights. There’s a wide rolling lawn of grass, with fire pits and chairs spread out everywhere. There are lawn games, too- beanbags and horseshoes and a giant version of Jenga.

You can burn a lot of time out here. You barely even notice when Daniel slips his hand around your wrist to gently pull you with him. You should feel guilty about it. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside. But that same boyfriend has also been ignoring you all night. Daniel is just being friendly. You follow him to one of the fire pits with a smile on your face.

You and Daniel are nearly two hours into wandering when someone calls your name. You look up from where you’ve been staring at the beanbag board, trying to line up your throw just right. You’d been on the verge of winning for the first time. For an Australian, Daniel is surprisingly good at American lawn games. Frustratingly good, even.

It’s your boyfriend, calling you from the doorway of the reception hall. You sigh and drop the beanbag onto the ground near your feet. Two of the other groomsmen are hanging off of him, looking worse for the wear. One of them has something down the front of his shirt- you pray it’s not vomit.

“I think that’s my cue,” you say, nodding towards the building.

“You could always put them in a cab and hope they figure it out on their own.” Daniel says. You give him a skeptical look. “Kidding, kidding.”

“It’s tempting,” you admit.

Daniel bends over and picks up your heels from where they lay in the grass. You’d kicked them off as soon as you stepped into the soft grass outside. You slip the shoes back on and wince. Then you stick your hand out to him, palm open.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you,” you say, as he shakes your hand once more. “Thanks for not leaving me all alone.”

Daniel laughs. “I will be your ‘I-know-nobody-at-this-event-‘ partner anytime you want, sweetheart. Just give me a call. I’ll be there.”

You know what he’s trying to do. The opportunity is right there in front of you. He’s telling you to give him a call- this is where you ask for his number. But you have a boyfriend. You can justify hanging out with him, especially considering you had nothing else to do, but asking for his number feels a step too far.

You smile softly and drop his hand. “Goodnight, Daniel.”

You turn and make your way towards your boyfriend. He’s already complaining before you’re even within ten feet of him, about how he’s tired and he looked everywhere for you and how could you disappear like that? You apologize, just to quiet him down. You usher the three men inside before you turn to look at Daniel one more time.

He’s standing there, watching you, a sad smile on his face.

“Who was that guy?” Your boyfriend asks later, from the passenger seat of the car.

You look at him, at his eyes. The light is gone- he’s blacked out, there’s no way he’ll remember this tomorrow.

“Daniel Ricciardo,” you say.

It’s a testament to how drunk he is that he doesn’t even react.

You get all three guys into bed, including your boyfriend. You lay down next to him, as much as you don’t want to. There’s not really anywhere else to sleep in the little hotel room, and you’re not sleeping on the floor. When you close your eyes, you can’t fall asleep, plagued by thoughts of if you’d made the right choice, unable to erase Daniel’s sad smile from your memory.

…..

You love weddings. You remind yourself of that over and over again as you pin a dress in place for the hundredth time that day. Your best friend Natalie is a bridesmaid, it’s her sister who’s getting married, and you’re here to help in any way you can. So far, that’s included safety pinning, making a run for alcohol, checking on the floral delivery, checking to make sure the groomsmen are where they’re supposed to be, and comforting a bridesmaid who was crying in the bathroom. Her boyfriend had broken up with her the night before.

“Men are shit,” you’d told her in commiseration.

By the time the ceremony rolls around, you’re relieved to have a chance to sit down. You check on the bridesmaids one last time and head into the church. The pews are packed with people, so you find a spot near the back and sit down. You sigh in relief.

The music starts playing, and you finally take a chance to look around. The pews are decorated with flowers, there’s bright light streaming through the large windows. The groom waits up front, eyes already watering. You love weddings. You say it like a mantra in your head.

As the procession starts, you scan the crowd. You know more people at this wedding, having been friends with the family for a while. You’ll at least have some company at your table. You spot a couple friends from high school, a cousin you’ve met a few times, some mutual friends who you’ll definitely have to catch up with later. And then, in the third row on the groom’s side, you see dark curly hair that looks terrifyingly familiar.

It can’t be him. That would be absolutely insane. There’s absolutely no way Daniel Ricciardo is attending a second wedding in the US, for a couple who are no more famous than the previous wedding you’d seen him at. It would make absolutely no sense. And yet, you can’t stop staring at the back of this man’s head, the slope of his shoulders beneath his dark suit. You remember that wedding, months ago, resting your hand on his shoulder for balance as you took off your heels. He’d joked about having to cut you off, holding your Shirley Temple in his hand.

When the bridal procession begins playing, everyone stands. You keep your eyes on him. He turns, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. It’s Daniel. It’s impossible, it’s irrational, but it is him. You’d recognize him anywhere.

You force yourself to look away, to turn towards the bride. She looks beautiful, perfect, the picture of elegance. The flowers in her hands, the ones you’d checked on that morning, are perfect too. You breathe a sigh of relief. She really should’ve hired a wedding coordinator. Maybe you should be a wedding coordinator.

When you go to sit back down, you sneak a glance at Daniel. He’s looking over his shoulder at you, eyes wide. You meet his gaze and your cheeks feel hot. That wide, bright grin breaks out across his face. You grin right back.

When the ceremony is over, and they’re officially Mr and Mrs, the whole wedding disperses out onto the lawn of the church. There are shuttles to take you to the reception, but everyone seems content to mingle outside in the fresh air. You’re one of the first ones out, but you’re quickly swept up in the crowd. You search for Daniel in every face that passes. You find Natalie first, though.

“Nat,” you say frantically. “Does your sister know Daniel Ricciardo?”

Her brow furrowed for a second. “What?”

“Danny Ricciardo,” you repeat, keeping your voice low. “The F1 driver. He’s here.”

“Oh,” Natalie says, brows raising. “Yeah, he’s like, friends with her fiancé- oh, her husband! Shit, I forgot that you watch that stuff- or, you… did? I can probably try and introduce you-“

“No, we- we’ve met.” You admit. She’s the first person you’re telling about this. “At that wedding like 6 months ago.”

She tilts her head at you. Her eyes go wide. She says your name in a bewildered tone.

“Are you telling me that the mystery wedding man, who you definitely should’ve dumped your boyfriend for, was fucking Danny Ricciardo?”

“Keep it down!” You shush her.

“Oh my god,” she says, a conspiratorial smirk crossing over her face. “And he’s here.”

Someone calls your name. You know that voice- it’s haunted you since you left that wedding. You turn over your shoulder as Natalie grabs your wrist and lets out a squeak.

“Danny,” you breathe, like a sigh of relief. “Hi.”

He strides up to you, handsome as ever, grinning so widely it looks like it hurts. “This is fucking insane.”

An elderly aunt glares at him. He makes an apologetic face before turning back to you and shrugging. He steps into your space, so close you can smell his cologne. He’s staring down at you through his lashes. The look in his eyes is so soft and warm that you think you’re melting.

“The bride is my best friend’s sister,” you explain, gesturing at Natalie. “This is Natalie.”

“I’m friends with the groom,” he says, reaches his hand out and shakes Natalie’s hand. “I’m Danny, nice to meet you.”

She nods, and suddenly you’re very afraid. Natalie doesn’t have much of a filter, especially in high pressure situations. Especially when she’s been forced to be prim and proper all morning.

“You must really like American weddings,” she says, and you wince. “I hear this is your second one in 6 months.”

Daniel smirks, raises his eyebrows at you. “Huh. Wonder what else you’ve heard about me.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but you shove her shoulder. “Nat, aren’t you supposed to be taking family pictures?”

She’s so busy staring at Daniel she almost doesn’t hear you. Then her eyes go wide. She swears loudly, earning a glare from the same aunt. Then she drops your wrist and takes off through the crowd.

You turn towards Daniel. “Sorry about her.”

He shakes his head. “No need. She seems sweet.”

You smile. “She is.”

“Makes sense, since she’s friends with you,” he says. “The sweetest of them all.”

You laugh, shove at his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Behind him, people are starting to get on the shuttles. He’s leaning towards you, eyes still lit up.

“I honestly can’t believe this,” he says.

“Neither can I,” you admit. “It’s.. it’s really good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you,” he echoes. “Feels like a sign, doesn’t it?”

You open your mouth to agree, to tell him what you’ve been thinking the past 6 months, but Natalie is calling your name. You and Daniel both turn to look at her, and the look on her face tells you she’s so sorry. You sigh and shrug.

“I have to go,” you tell him. “That bridal party is a mess.”

“Worse than the last one?” He asks.

“No,” you say. “And I don’t have to drive any of them home, so that’s a bonus. But I think I’ll be billing them for wedding coordinator expenses after this. Or at the very least, drinking enough at the open bar to make up for it.”

Daniel laughs. “Atta girl. Should I save you a seat on the shuttle?”

You let out a puff of air. “I’m riding over with the bridal party.”

His face falls in disappointment. “Okay. Find me when you get there, yeah? I’ll have a Shirley Temple waiting for you.”

You nod. “Make it a Dirty Shirley, would you?”

He nods eagerly and squeezes your arm.

You don’t actually make it into the reception until nearly an hour later. There’s an emergency with a groomsman’s tux, and the girl who was broken up with the night before is crying again. Nothing that can’t be fixed with safety pins and tequila, but it still takes time. You check your name on the seating chart, sigh at the sight of the name next to yours, the seat that will stay empty. You find Daniel’s seat, too, a few tables over from yours. You head there first.

Daniel is sitting, a beer in hand and a very watery Shirley Temple on the table in front of him. He’s chatting with the man sitting next to him, who looks a bit starstruck. He perks up when he sees you, reaching for your drink. You take it happily and have a sip, tasting ginger ale, grenadine, and vodka, too.

“The ice is a bit melted,” he says with a sigh. “But good news! Ian here has offered to switch seats with you.”

Ian is looking between you and Daniel, eyes wide. You’re sure he did offer, likely after Daniel had told him the whole crazy story, or at least enough to convince him. You watched him charm bartenders at the last wedding- he has a way with words. Ian starts to stand up.

“That’s really not necessary.” You say, and Daniel’s face falls. “There’s an empty seat at my table.”

He lifts his brows, grinning again. His brown eyes stare deep into your own. He stands up without waiting another moment, handing you your drink and holding his own.

“Ian, nice meeting you,” he says. “I’ll still get you those paddock passes,” he promises, and you bite back a laugh. “See ya ‘round, mate.”

He follows you to your table. There’s a setting with your name on a little card, and the empty setting next to it with another name on it. You grab that card and crumple it in your hand, shoving it into your purse. He quirks a brow but sits down anyways as you greet the others at your table- cousins of the bride and friends who you’ve met a few times.

“So. How’ve things been?” You ask, and he launches into a story that has you listening with every bone in your body.

Somehow, the two of you make it all the way through dinner and speeches and the first dance before the subject of your boyfriend even comes up. You wonder if he’s been waiting to broach it. You’ve been waiting for the right moment.

He nods towards the dance floor. “You have to promise me you’ll dance to at least one song tonight.”

You blink and shrug. “Easy. I love dancing.”

He stares at you. There’s the beginnings of another wide grin on his face.

“That is not what you said last time.”

“I lied,” you admit. “Because my boyfriend hated dancing.”

Daniel nods. “Hated. Past tense?”

“He’s not dead,” you deadpan, making him laugh. “But he’s also not my boyfriend anymore.”

Daniel’s foot nudges against yours under the table. “No?”

“No,” you say with a shrug.

Daniel nods. “Pretty girl like you, you must’ve moved on pretty quick,” he says.

His tone is light, teasing. He’s testing the waters. You shake your head and pretend you don’t see the way his shoulders sag in relief.

“I’ve sworn off dating,” you tell him. Your tone is teasing, too. “After he left me on my own at a wedding, I decided men are shit.”

You’re taunting him now. The conversation has gone from feeling each other out, from digging for information, to circling each other like sharks in the water. Your heart is beating steady in your chest. His eyes are locked on yours.

“You poor thing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Let me prove you wrong?”

The tension crackles in the air. His knee nudges against yours and you swear you’re going to combust. You down the rest of your drink in one gulp, set the glass down, and reach for his suit jacket. You run your finger down the lapel, then back up, adjusting his collar.

“I swore off men,” you repeat, leaning forwards, keeping your voice low. “But this feels like a sign, doesn’t it? Like the universe sent me back to you.”

He nods. He reaches up, captures your wrist in his hand and holds it against his chest.

“So maybe you should go get me another drink,” you suggest. “And I’ll meet you on the dance floor.”

You lean even closer, then, close enough to press your lips to his cheek. Then you stand up and walk away towards where people are beginning to gather, to where the music is loudest. You don’t turn back to see if he’s watching. You already know he is.

…..

You have a fleeting thought, later, that maybe you should’ve switched to a drink with less sugar in it at some point in the night. The grenadine feels like it’s stuck to your tongue. Danny doesn’t seem to mind the taste, though.

He’s got you up against the wall in a back hallway of the reception venue. You back is pressed to the cool surface, your arms around his neck, his hands on your hips. His lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you deeply, like he’ll never get enough. You’re feeling the same.

His knee slots between your legs, and you’re a goner. His hand slips from your hip and cups your ass, hauling you closer with ease, tilting your hips away from the wall and into his. You break away for air, gasping for it, and he moves his lips to your neck. It feels heavenly, trapped between him and the wall, his hands all over you, his lips trailing lower and lower. He reaches up and brushes the thin strap of your dress off one of your shoulders. You shove your hands under his suit jacket and press them against his toned abdomen through his shirt. He lets out a groan, the noise vibrating against your neck. You throw your head back and laugh between gasps.

You wonder if he’d have his way with you right there. You wonder if you’d let him.

There are footsteps, then, clicking their way down the hall. You scramble to push him away as someone rounds the corner, but you know it’s painfully obvious. You turn your head, already feeling mortified, and come face to face with Natalie.

“Oh, thank god,” both you and your best friend say at the same time.

Daniel pulls away and looks between the two of you. You can’t look at him for more than a few seconds. His lips are red and puffy, his eyes half lidded. You distantly wonder if there’s beard burn on your face, if your lips are just as red. Then you start to wonder how his scruff might feel on other parts of you.

“I didn’t know where you’d gone,” Natalie says, laughing. “I heard noises, I thought…”

“I’m fine,” you tell her, and she nods in agreement.

“I’ll say,” she teases.

“Nat!” You hiss.

“You’d better take good care of her, Ricciardo,” he says, and your face grows hot all over again. “I don’t care how famous you are, I’ll fuck you up anyways.”

“Nat!” You hiss again.

“I will,” Danny promises, squeezing your hip and nodding. “I’m on a mission. Trying to prove not all men are shit.”

“Good luck,” Natalie says drily. But when she walks away, she’s smiling.

He turns back to you, and this time he places both his hands on the wall on either side of your head. You look up at him, licking your lips. You still taste the Shirley Temple, and you can taste him, too, now. He groans softly and closes his eyes. It’s nice to know you’re having an effect on him, too, nice to know you’re not the only one feeling worked up. You reach up and tug on the lapels of his jacket. You brush your lips against his jaw.

“We should have one more drink,” you tell him, humming happily. “And then you should take me to your hotel.”

He swallows. You press a kiss to the center of his throat.

“I’ve never heard a better plan in my whole life.” He says.

…..

At every wedding you go to afterwards, you order the same drink. Well, really, Danny orders them for you. You’ve thought a couple times about asking for wine or seltzer or even beer. You think it might break his heart, though. It’s a tradition now, and the pink sugary concoction will always taste like that very first night. Like bare feet in the grass, the thud of beanbags against wooden boards. Like Daniel’s laugh in the middle of the best man’s speech. Like you, alone at a table, and Daniel collapsing into the seat next to you, his hand extended to shake yours.

The same hand that’s wrapped up with yours now, resting on his knee. You never want to let go. You’re pretty sure he’d be okay with that.

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams

#daniel riccardo x reader #Danny Ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x you #Danny Ricciardo x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #honeywrites #formula 1 fanfic

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chaos0pikachu · 6 months

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I don't care that Love in the Air had numerous sound problems and spent all their budget on (1) drone and hair ties for Payu when it has one of my all time favorite friend scenes in any BL where Sky platonically doms Rain in the middle of the day in the middle of fucking class in front of their friends, teachers, and the holy spirit for giving up his phone number to the hot rich asshole (Prapai) that Sky had a secret one night stand with where he broke Prapai's brain by riding the dick so well Megan Thee Stallion would clap in praise hallelujah making Prapai seek out Payu and Rain for Sky's phone number and by that point Rain is completely dicked down bad he's studying the scripture, he's setting up a pop up store, he's committed to being the best bratty bottom he can be and damnit Rain knows it's bros before hos except Rain wants to be the ho here and now he's in a dilemma!!! Dick or his bff's phone number and Rain read his options with his pussy okay???

so now Sky's got Rain on his knees, hands up hold up begging for forgiveness while their classmates are like, just another day of Sky domming Rain in public while we all rack up debt and draw our little houses and Rain's outright begging, & pleading & pouting with his baby doll eyes trying to channel e-girl sugar baby energy and Sky's like bugs bunny no.png and makes Rain sit there for another 30mins at penance cause he's been brat taming Rain since before Payu even spotted that pout he's a pro

who out here is doing it like them I ask you

#love in the air #lita #rain lita #sky lita #skyrain #pikachu's chaotic recaps

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stars-for-circe · 4 months

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Student teacher!Abby Headcannons

Part 1, Part 2

tags / cw: AFAB reader, reader has a sister, fluff, making out, swearing, smut, mentions of tribbing, mentions of oral sex, mentions of fingering, carnival date, student teacher!Abby

Student teacher!Abby who spends the next fortnight absolutely enthralled with the image of you - butterflies in her stomach that she had met you once, and storm clouds over her head that she had met you once. God, how the fuck could she forget to ask for your number like that? I mean what was she, some shy middle schooler confronting her crush??

…Pretty much.

Student teacher!Abby who tries her hardest to keep on teaching despite the fact, distracting herself with making activities for each science class and staying later than usual to mark books each day. But Abby who, upon noticing the students trail out of the class as the main teacher packs up, realises she had once again stayed until pickup, could now only think of you, and of how the two of you had met.

Student teacher!Abby who realises that this is how you two met, and holy shit this is how you two could need again. And just like that, 2 weeks of distracting herself break down, you now on the forefront of her mind once more. And she thanks whatever god is up there that your little sister happens to be the student she is closest and talks with the most, because trying to find her solely to ask when you may be picking her up again will hopefully seem less suspicious and fruity than she thought.

Student teacher!Abby who wastes no time darting out of the building and to the cul-de-sac next to the school - work be damned - as she tries to find your little sister. If she’s fast enough, she’ll be able to catch her before she gets picked up by her dad.

Student teacher!Abby who freezes when she notices what car the girl gets into, belonging not to some random middle aged man, but a woman - you. And initially, Abby contemplates turning around and heading back into the classroom before anyone sees her. But then she watches as your head turns in her direction, following where your sister is now pointing at, and she has no choice now but to walk up to your car and talk to you both.

Student teacher!Abby who walks up to the drivers side while calling out your name and is met with a shocked but seemingly happy look from you (and on your end, you’re just all giddy that your sister’s smoking hot teacher remembered you)

Student teacher!Abby who doesn’t know what to say after finally meeting you again and groans internally because fuck, she didn’t think this far, trying to save herself by engaging in small talk - the traffic, how your sister is going on class, the goddamn weather even-

“-A Date”

“…..what?”

“We-” you clear your throat.

��We should go on a date, Abby”

Student teacher!Abby who agrees entirely too fast (much to your amusement) thankful that you interrupted her with your proposition. But then she realises that you hasn’t decided on where and when. Nervously, her eyes flit around for any ideas - because there’s no fucking way she’s taking you on a boring coffee date - and she noticed the Ferris wheel in the distance, about 7 blocks away.

Student teacher!Abby who asks if you like carnivals, to which you let out a breathy laugh at what she’s insinuating before nodding. She leans over the side of your car, resting her arms against the roof while smiling.

“Uh, is Saturday good for you?”

“Mhm. I can meet you there at around 6”

“You got it, babygirl”

Student teacher!Abby who smirks at the reaction that gets out of you as she stands back to let you drive out, noticing your sister giving her a thumbs up from the backseat (that makes her laugh) and once you’re a ways away she drops the whole “cool” facade and panics because holyshitshejustscoredadatewithyou.

Student teacher!Abby who spends the rest of the week thinking about what she’ll wear and say and what the both of you will do at the carnival.

Student teacher!Abby who keeps bugging your sister during recess on your favourite food and favourite stuffed animals in the hopes that she can win you those prizes, to the point where the poor first grader gets so fed up that she rolls her eyes at her teacher’s antics.

“I heard my sister say to her friend that she’s ‘really gay’ for you or something. I dunno what that means but I don’t think you need to worry that much, Miss Abby”

Student teacher!Abby who chokes on her coffee at that.

Student teacher!Abby who waits for you at the carnival entrance, checking the time every other second and nervously shifting her stance until you arrive. And when you do, it takes a moment for Abby to remember how to breathe because of how beautiful you look.

Student teacher!Abby who makes a joke about how you got all dressed up for her and you playfully push her away while laughing as the two of you walk into the carnival grounds.

Student teacher!Abby who takes you to the food stands first, asking what you want to eat & drink before buying it for you - there’s no way she’d let you pay for anything tonight and she makes that quite clear, much to your protest.

Student teacher!Abby who find you both a spot to sit down at before setting down your food and locking eyes with you from across the table.

“Nice view?” She jokes.

“Yea, actually” Abby lets out a huff of laughter before shaking her head. You join in before repeating what you said.

“I’m serious! Abby you’re like, really pretty”

“Yea well, your sister already told me you thought that”

Student teacher!Abby who breaks down into an even bigger fit of laughter as she watches your face turn into one of shock and embarrassment as you promise that your sister won’t ever see the light of day again.

Student teacher!Abby who really enjoys talking to you as you both eat, hanging onto every little thing you say. You share that your sister is actually adopted, and that you moved to this city only a couple years ago, and she shares that her full name is actually Abigail, and that she wants to teach in a high school later on.

Student teacher!Abby who keeps on talking with you long after the food has been eaten, until you both agree to check out all the rides and games.

Student teacher!Abby who lets you drag her to the high striker game, where you have to hit the hammer down as hard as you can to win the prize. She lets you go first, and watches as the puck makes it fairly high up the tower before falling again, winning you a small rubber duck.

Student teacher!Abby who goes right after you, hitting the hammer down hard. But this time the puck rises all the way to the top, winning her the biggest prize. She looks at the staff member who stares at her incredulously before handing over the giant stuffed teddy bear.

Student teacher!Abby who immediately gives it to you, promising that this is only just the first thing she’ll win you.

Student teacher!Abby who plays almost every other game and goes on all the rides with you that night, and walks out of the carnival with you while you’re holding the largest stuffed animal collection on earth.

Student teacher!Abby who follows you to your car and helps put all of the stuffed animals in the trunk. And holy shit, she tries not to stare at your ass as you bend over to place them inside. She helps you close the door before leaning against the car, looking at you in thought.

Student teacher!Abby who doesn’t speak at first, the only noises being from the carnival and the crickets chirping in the car park. She traces your features with her eyes - still adjusting to the dark night compared to the bright lights of the carnival - before asking softly if you had fun.

Student teacher!Abby whose gaze sinks down from your eyes, lower, lower, as you match her tone and say that yes, you did, and that you’d love to do this again.

Student teacher!Abby who is too busy glancing at your lips to realise that you’re doing the exact same thing, until you whisper a soft “c’mere” as you pull her by her shirt and kiss her hard, lips moving in tandem with eachother as her hands trail up and down your back, drawing small noises out of you.

Student teacher!Abby who pins you against your car and pulls away to take a breath, before kissing you once more.

Student teacher!Abby who groans as she feels you tugging lightly on her braid, moving her kisses down your jawline and to your throat. And in between every kiss and suck and mark she leaves there, she asks lowly, her place? Or yours?

Student teacher!Abby who can’t for the life of her keep her hands off of you as she drives your car to her apartment, pinning you to the car, and the elevator, and her front door as you make your way in. And when you pin her to the wall of her hallway, she lets out a surprised gasp into your mouth before telling you to jump up.

Student teacher!Abby who waits until your legs are wrapped around her waist until moving her hands to your ass and walking to her bedroom. And maybe she was a little rough when she slammed her door shut and threw you on her bed, but Jesus Christ did it you on.

Student teacher!Abby who made sure you came so many times that night, until you couldn’t feel your legs afterwards. Making sure that you would remember how her tongue and fingers felt in you, against you, on you.

Student teacher!Abby who let you take the lead after she had her way with you, letting you touch her just as much. And the sight of you, all beautifully fucked out and breathy as you rubbed your clit on hers, would now be forever imprinted on her brain.

Student teacher!Abby who made sure to clean you both up afterwards, and then pull you on top of her to sleep. Well, not before sleepily making out with you again, but cmon, it’s not like she could resist.

Student teacher!Abby who wakes up before you, watching how the early days of sunshine scatter across your face. She traces circles on your naked back until you wake up. Groggily, you regain your bearings and remember where you are as you look at Abby and smile

And finally,

Student teacher!Abby who thanks the fucking lord that she got moved to the elementary school to teach.

#the last of us 2 #abby anderson the last of us 2 #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #the last of us #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #historians say they were roommates #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #bisexual

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avaf00rdxx · 4 months

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With my best friend

Caitlin Foord x Reader

Warnings : slight mention of anxiety, break up

Summary : in which lifelong Best friends slowly come to senses about their close connection to their number one person.

————————————————————————

2011

“hi I’m y/n” you said to a shorter girl who looked just as nervous as you.

“Yeah I know. They said your name before”

“Oh yeah of course” you said pulling your hand away as you had it out to shake. Pretty formal for 17 year olds. She then grabbed your hand from my side back up again and shook it “Caitlin”

You smiled as you both focused you attention onto the information evening of the Matilda’s new squad members.

——————

2011

“Caitlin you did it I flipping knew it!” You squealed to your roommate. She was starting for Australia, for the first time of her career and you couldn’t have been prouder.

“And I get to start with you!” She squealed as you both jumped around your hotel room.

You two were both in New Zealand when you were called about you both starting together. You made your debut last week, coming on in the last 5 minutes. But Caitlin would make her debut starting.

The game the next day: you managed to receive a pass from Clare as you ran up the field. You felt no one too close on you but you spotted Caitlin completely open just close enough to the goal, possibly not even close enough to you. You still passed to her just near the goal, a pretty impressive pass, as she sent a header straight into the back of the net. Slipping just past the keepers hands. She yelled in excitement as you jumped straight into your best friends arms.

“You did it cait!” You screamed holding her face in your hands before the rest of your Australian teammates jumped onto the two of you, causing you to collapse.

——————

2020 (quite the time jump ngl)

“Hey you” you felt arms wrap around your sweaty neck. It was your girlfriend Ona. You had just beaten her Spanish team 2-1 in your match tonight. You celebrated with your respected team after your win while ona had a chat with hers. After signing shirts and posters and doing your laps around the stadium. You were standing around with Macca, Caitlin and Alanna before your girlfriend greeted all of you.

You turned around to give her a big hug, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck. “Proud of you” she whispered as she kissed your cheek.

“Even more proud of you”

She smiled at you before you both turned back around to your three best friends “hey guys” ona said before hugging all of them.

Caitlin’s POV

Ona seemed brilliant for y/n. I don’t see her smile that much than when she’s with her. But there’s just something about her, something sour that turns me off about when she’s with y/n.

I hugged her lightly, smiling. Knowing how much this meant for y/n. Seeing us get along with her. I’ve seen Ona put stress on y/n, it’s from the long distance. Some nights in our hotel room she has been teary about how difficult it gets. I think it’s that that is bugging me.

——————

2021

“So fucking stupid” y/n sobbed into Alannas arms as we were in her hotel room. At another camp.

The long distance no longer worked for ona and my best friend. “Like it’s like all that trying and effort for the long distance wasn’t even worth it!” She exclaimed into Alan as shoulder.

“Oh Sweet Girl it was I promise it was” alanna soothed to her.

I did feel terrible. The couple had been together since when they met at Barca in 2018. And everyone loved them together. My heart ached at y/ns state. Soaking Alannas top, while Mac ran her hands through her hair. I said some words to her as I sat close to her.

After about 4 hours of room service, and 2 marvel movies. Y/n and me saw the other two girls out. As I shut the door, y/n pulled me close into a bone crushing hug. I wrapped my arms around her torso.

“Thank you for that. Love you” she said before pulling away and hopping into the shower.

—————

July 2021

Y/n’s pov

I gripped tightly onto Caitlin’s hand as the plane went through multiple stages of turbulence over the last hour. For the past 10 years, you had always held her hands during bumpy travel together. It just soothed your plane anxiety.

———

The final whistle blew as you fell to your knees. Hands covering your face. It was the semi finals, you had made it. And you went down 1-0 to Sweden. Tears slowly tried to fall out of your eyes. As you quickly brushed them away. Once finding yourself again moments later and standing up. You hugged some of the Swedish girls and then embraced Sam in a tight hug. Both showing how proud of each other you were. When in Sam’s arms, you looked over her shoulder to find your best friend standing by herself looking up to the sky in disbelief. You let yourself out of Sam’s arms before smiling at her then jogging over to Caitlin. She didn’t notice you at first as you pulled her towards you to giver her a huge hugger. Her head hung low on your shoulder, “I’m proud of you. And for that goal” you whispered.

“Thanks” she said holding you tighter. It was slightly disappointing. You were so close to reaching that gold medal, but just slipped before the last step.

————

The very short plane back to London was soothing. A smooth trip with sleepy girls. So it was very relaxing. Caitlin very quickly fell asleep in her seat next to you. She slept with her mouth hung open which made you giggle. You quickly snapped a photo before posting it to your close friends instagram story. You found yourself in your camera roll looking at the photo just taken. Then the suggestions of Caitlin box came up under the photo. You clicked on it as the photos app took you to all of the photos of you and Caitlin. From as long as you remembered. You smiled remembering the memories. She really has been the glue to your whole life.

—————

A/N

Ok so there is no romance between Caitlin and reader in this. But there be part 2 super soon so hold your nickers.

Luv yall💗💗

#caitlin foord #woso #caitlin foord imagines #caitlin foord x reader #alanna kennedy #ona batlle #matildas #matildas x reader #woso x reader #woso community #mackenzie arnold

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verieriberries · 24 days

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POWER THOUGHT

bruce wayne x professor utonium from powerpuff girls

like, just think about it

both dads of vigilante/hero children

bruce gets more opportunities to girldad (his fave would deffo be bubbles)

the batkids get an emotionally open figure in their lives

cass, steph, barbs and whatever other daughters bruce has gets more sisters

dami and buttercup would either kill each other on sight or would become allies

dick and blossom eldest daughter core

bubbles and cass do ballet together

tim and professor nerd out w each other

like, PLEASE PLEASE IMAGINE IT

professor utonium transfers to wayne enterprises r&d and like, bonds with tim over science and stuff (tim’s an intern). and of course, bruce wayne has to meet this guys because 1) new employee and it would be rude of Brucie Wayne™️ to not check on him and 2) tim’s been talking about this dude and he wanted to thank the man for not undermining his son’s intellect

and so he goes and whoops, exactly his type. the b in bruce wayne stands for bisexual and there’s two things that get him going: mean women e.g selina & talia and soft men e.g clark in those first years they knew each other and, now apparently included in the list, professor utonium

and the professor DOES NOT shut up about his daughters. dang, more points. although that kinda made bruce a little worried that the professor was a married man but his worries were put to rest when the man confirmed that he had been single ever since he graduated college.

so, should he shoot his shot? survey (tim and alfred) says yes.

that’s still the gist of it but bonus miscellaneous stuff

the number of batkids the batfam has is up to you

the age of the ppg is also up to you

younger ppg (like, 5-8): dami’s not the youngest anymore and he takes pride in being an older brother, dick is just delighted, the girls get a bunch of older brothers and sisters that are all very protective even when they find out that the ppg have superpowers

teen ppg: 95% risk of dami or buttercup killing the other, dick and blossom bonding about being ‘leaders’, bubbles brings a boyfriend home one time and the boyfriend never returned under the terrifying glares of batfam + blossom and buttercup (professor utonium was the only nice one), the ultimate sparring sessions

bruce teaches the ppg hand-to-hand combat and to not rely so much on their powers

batfam gets free laser dodging training courtesy of the girls’ laser eyes and just about any type of training pertaining fighting against superpowered enemies

this has been bugging me all day and i NEED someone with more motivation to draw or write about this. and if you do make art or fics, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TAG ME 🛐🛐🛐🛐

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sister-of-hitoshi · 2 months

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Bnha main three x turned to child reader

Scenarios with just fluff!

Midoriya Izuku

It was a quaint, idle afternoon, although Midoriya Izuku was as busy as ever.

Being the former no.1 hero's protégé, being the weilder of One for All, being a dutiful student of the most prestigious academy of Japan, being a good son, being a supportive friend, a wonderful partner, a-

Good babysitter?

Yes there was a lot to be, but being a babysitter was really asking too much of him.

Our pure, sweet and innocent boy might be good with kids in general, but he was not made to handle little gremlins with short fuses.

But alas, to be the future no.1 hero of the country, you should be ready to face each and every challenge thrown at you.

Or that's what he kept telling himself.

Because right now, a little gremlin had been pulling at his curls for god knows how long.

And this little gremlin was his adorable s/o...

It all started when he had comeback to his room being left in shambles with a little toddler claiming their throne at it's centre.

"U-ummm"

"W-W-Whoooo a-are youuu??!!"

What is an adorable kid doing in his room? How are they even in his room? Isn't UA supposed to have top-tier security? Why is-

"I'M Y/N!!"

This was enough for his instincts to take over his next movements as he immediately picked you up and full-cowled to Aizawa sensei.

Recovery girl was informed, and following her deductions, he got to know about the duration of three days.

Without further ado, and due to all the qualities mentioned in point number 2, Aizawa immediately put him in charge of his companion.

Which brings us back to the present.

The present where you were running around the common school yard with him chasing after you- because at some point during his conversation with his teachers you had become tired of his curls and had jumped down from his back, ordering requesting him to run and catch you.

The first few minutes he was only trying to humour you to see that adorable grin that you sported.

But this soon wasn't the case anymore since he was now being bested by a literal toddler in terms of running for two hours straight.

This activity was followed by you doing his hair and him doing yours in your room, since his was left in shambles and you wouldn't let him go.

To say you were hyper was an understatement-

And you hadn't even unleashed half of your potential!

At some point, the perplexity of his own precarious situation got to him, leading him to call his mom asking for tips.

Following which he had you strapped on his chest everytime he was busy doing something, he couldn't have you tiring yourself afterall (he didn't have it in him to run after you anymore)

It was pretty alright after your initial tantrums and pulling on his hair, asking to be let down.

You were a somewhat of cuddle bug for him- you slapped everyone's hands away when they tried to touch you, and only permitted him for doing so (he is still very proud of you for doing that).

Want to be entertained? You can swing using his black whips, float around the room with him, the options were endless!- So of course you did everything on the list because why not.

All in all he was a good servant caretaker, you never once cried when he was around and he could keep up with your royal decrees shenanigans.

Of course you would never know that he fantasized about you in his almight onesies

"...Is this the candy that you wanted, Y/N?"

"YEs"

You were pretty pleased with your devoted follower, so being a good ruler, you decided it was best to promise your loyal subject a deserving reward.

"Uh- they said that they've run out of stock for that juice Y/N-san so-"

You interrupted him by giving him a sweet peck on the cheek, as a reward of course-

"Mr. Izukw! I'm gonna marry yu in the fwuture!"

"..umM..."

.......

....

"...- so the kis- I MEAN THE CANDY- NO JUICE-JUICE-"

You child form wasn't enough to keep him from blushing till his ear tips.

He pulled on his bangs to keep you from seeing his red face.

"Umm...m-me too"

For Katsuki Bakugo: Here

For Shouto Todoroki: Here

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pablitogavii · 1 year

Text

Finally...GAVI MASTERLIST

It's here! All my work at one place...Enjoy ;))

SMUTS:

Swapped Roles

Proving a point ;)

Number 30

Her Best Friend

Special Request

That boy is mine!

Another special request

Same to you

Lingerie

Only his fan

Injury

Injury Pt. 2

Silent Treatment

Girls night

Testing Limits

Campeon!

Flash him

Shaving Cream

Distractions ;)

Bath time

Safe Word

Princesa mala

Boys night

Enemies don't kiss each other

Teacher

His naughty little cheerleader

Friendly

Para la Victoria!

Special dance moves

Behave

Our promise

Mi chica buena

PRANK WARS

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

FLUFF

Seventeen

Panic

Bad Game

Angry bird

Ballon D'or Ceremony

Caught

Video Games

Protector

I love you too

Misunderstanding

Little jealous

Makeup routine Pablo style

On her period

Cute request

Hate :(

I'm sorry...

Meet the crew

Care

Bebé

Campeones, Campeones!

Fight for you

Goodnight (kinda smutty but not really :)

Celebration

Situationship (jealous!pablito)

Imagine we are dating?

Seeking attention

Anger Issues

Soft Mornings

Period Problems

Spoiled

Clumsy

Only my baby!

Fight

Sceardy Cat

Home

Passenger Princesa

How we met/ social media

Familia

There for you

My Angry Bird

Social Media Fluff

New Boyfriend

Bracelet

Friend vs Boyfriend

His doctora

Vacation mornings

His Ídolo

Home Sweet Home

Bad Friend

Things Pablo notices

Sleepy Bug

Sick Babyboy

Family Vacation

Dad!Gavi

And A LOT more to come...<33

#pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #gavigif #gavi #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #fc barça #fc barcelona #fc barca #pablogavixreadersmut

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eventuallyaugust · 1 year

Text

bound by the rules masterlist smau

pairing/s: lesserafim huh yunjin x txt's sixth member! gp! oc x aespa yoo jimin

summary: txt's oldest member, oh hyunseol just want a peaceful life after pandemic with her members, but it seems like fate wants to shake things up.

tags... crack, fluff; angst; hurt(?); suggestive/smut (not all time); kinda slow burn (not the do i like her slow burn, but those longer than a min touches and longing gazes kind of slow burn); no beta we die like men; love at first sight; friends to lovers

warning/s... love triangle; angst; too many things going on; an ungodly amount of time skips; suggestive/smut themes; dark jokes; toxic staffs and management; scandals; dark themes & graphic content: strong language, bullying (affectionately); multiple mentions of alcohol and its consumption; many more to be added

setting... story will start in 2022

featuring... txt, lesserafim, aespa, itzy (mostly ryujin), ive (mostly annyeongz), choi yena, skz bangchan, nct jaehyun, g-idle yuqi, enhypen heeseung, some bts members, and many more that often pops up in just one of the chapters.

status... CONTINUING (surprisingly)

————

profiles. bighit's baby giants, too pretty to be ais, not-so-fearless with bugs, the seven avengers

chapters (number of chapters & some titles still unidentified)

⭐ - fav chap

01 | happy birthday to you⭐

02 | new bestie unlocked

03 | birth month twinnie (half written)

04 | pretty elevator girl (kinda half written)

05 | tagged along

06 | birthday money

07 | meeting for what?! (mostly written)

08 | MEETING?? HER?? WHAT??

09 | minjeong's research

10 | lee fcking soo-man (written) ⭐

11 | give me your bets

12 | field day (pt.1)⭐

13 | the claw machine⭐

14 | party party yeah

15 | alexa, play drama by txt (written)⭐

16 | she is like dramama ramama

17 | #prayforheeseung

18 | gay panic-ese⭐

19 | txt's first 2022 vlive (written)⭐

20 | lord me when⭐

21 | be careful what you wish for (written) ⭐

22 | something bad just happened ⭐

23 | perfect friends ⭐

24 | matchz? it's a matchz! ⭐

bonus... matchmaker episodes

25 | 0 7 . 3 0

26 | seol & umji?? seolji?

27 | haters gonna hate

28 | wee-woo 🚨🚨

29 | a house of cards (written)

30 | us against the world

31 | through the cracks

32 | without the foundation

extra/s:

bbtr plot timeline

2022

2023

2024

----

taglist: @curly-fr13s , @neuftaeng , @myothegreat , @yoontoonwhs , @nasyu-kookies , @awkwardtoafault , @osakis-gf , @dream-chasers-things , @woonie57 , @juhyunsthirdwife , @sewiouslyz , @yerevies , @kimsgayness , @jeindall777 , @notodayeli , @mah4u

°°°°

a/n: seol can be interpreted as the reader or whole other person. it was supposed to be y/n, not seol but i find it hard to imagine if i pair yunjin and karina to someone i can't imagine, so that's where seol is born.

disclaimer all images and pictures used in this story are not all mine. they belong to their rightful owners and i therefore give credits to their edits. since this is a smau, all of the happenings and events within are made up and the product of my imagination. any similarity to real-life occurrences or individuals, whether alive or deceased, is entirely coincidental. SEPARATE FICTION FROM REALITY.

@ eventuallyaugust 2024 | navi

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foxufortunes · 2 months

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From: unknown number you’ve been invited to a monsters ball lucky you rabbit

Finally, the fic is out, A Monsters' Ball the pro-exy team MSBY Black Jackals (ft Andreil and some rabbits). Details like team line up and positions, alt jerseys, layers and some backstories beneath the cut.

So, our team line up and some details (and yes, I do have a colour coded spreadsheet to keep track of all this, which Neil and Sakusa constantly mess up by being the wrong year for their age bc they're babies, but ages are rough because no everyone has a declared birthday/age) with some art breaks between:

#4 Captain Meian Shuugo - 29, backliner, 5yrs MSBY, 5yrs college, from one of the country's best high school teams, 1 season as captain, trying really hard to be mature and not find everyone's antics funny, eternal rival to Hirugami Fukurou, captain of the champions, the Alders.

#20 V.Captain Hirugami Shouko - 26, backliner, 2yrs MSBY, 5yrs college, from another top high school, middle child of 2 pro-exy players (two of the earliest adopters before it got big, probably ppl who went to uni with Tetsuji and Kayleigh), younger sister of Alders captain Fukurou, joined the Jackals out of desire to say fuck you to her older brother.

#2 Amani Kanoka - 23, striker, rookie MSBY, 5yrs college, from a private all girls high school that became the best in the country, known as the Queens of Exy, very shy, has a lot of confidence issues, that she handles by being the best on court.

#5 Nathaniel Wesninski - 24, striker, MSBY rookie, 1yr Baltimore Wildcats, 4.5 yrs EAU Ravens, 0.5yrs PSU Foxes, joined the Foxes after only a year playing in a nowhere team but was quickly poached by the Ravens at Christmas that year and was a regular member the team the next year under his real name, very flighty, big fan of secrets, no idea how to handle the Jackals' chaos (they're like the Foxes but without the trauma).

#12 Bokuto Koutarou - 24, striker, 1yr MSBY, 5yrs college, one of the top 5 strikers in Japan in high school, another top high school team, ultimate himbo, might have committed tax fraud, has a word of the day calendar he's trying really hard to use properly, known for super sharp angle shots and for just bodying people and the ball.

#15 Sakusa Kiyoomi - 22, striker, rookie MSBY, 5yrs college, championship highschool team several yrs running, one of the top 3 strikers in Japan in high school, collegiate MVP, Team Japan 2016 squad, Team Japan U19 rep, grumpy baby, very into properly folded handkerchiefs, do not touch, preferably do not interact outside of court, speak to him via his adorable cousin or not at all unless saving him from bugs.

Halfway through the team stats, time for some art. The Away Colours! Maybe the racquets change to white too, idk I couldn't be bothered to recolour them though.

Ok, back to the second half of the team:

#3 Andrew Minyard - 25, goalkeeper, 2yrs MSBY, 3yrs USC Trojans, 2yrs PSU Foxes, best goalkeeper and rookie awards during his rookie season, didn't really tell anyone his plans after university just kind of vanished, only told a handful of people he'd signed for a team, Neil thought he was dead, he has a motorcycle now because city traffic is awful on his sports cars and the stadium is walking distance, sometimes plays defensive dealer.

#6 Inunaki Shion - 26, goalkeeper, 4yrs MSBY, 3yrs college (dropped out to go pro), middling high school only competed nationally once, the vodka aunt of the team, here to get people drunk, instigate drama with the monsters and then sit back and laugh, actually very soft on the youngsters, tolerates stupid nicknames like Inu-san and Wan-san (never get tired of that being translated Mr Dog and Mr Woof).

#9 Adriah Tomas - 27, backliner, 1yr MSBY, a transfer from European leagues, surprisingly fast for his size, just happy to be here, comes across as a bit of an airhead, but is usually right next to Inunaki instigating chaos and then pretending he doesn't understand the language enough to know what happened.

#10 Oliver Barnes - 30, backliner, 2yr MSBY, Team USA 2016/2012 Olympic squads, transfer from America, big friendly softie, dad of the team, actual dad of a 5yo girl, starting to consider retirement into coaching so is happy to spend the end of his elite career with these idiots.

#13 Miya Atsumu - 23, offensive dealer, 5yrs MSBY, Team Japan 2016 Olypmic squad, Team Japan U19 rep, from a top high school, considered the best dealer in Japan in high school, signed straight from high school, a particularly offensive dealer, easily doubles as striker, all rounder (all Jackals are all rounders but the dealers in particular), demanding and thoughtless jerk but not trying to be nasty, can come across as arrogant but is the first to accept his own mistakes.

#21 Hinata Shouyou - 22, defensive dealer, MSBY rookie, 2yrs playing street exy in Brazil, middling high school team on the rise, player backliner in high school despite wanting to be a striker, but learned to play all positions in Brazil, sometimes move position based on what team they're facing, general ray of sunshine, obsessed with exy, does meditation and yoga in the sunrise preferably on a beach.

Ok, team done, have some more art because yes, I did layer these team pics up slowly from the base dri-fit layers to the armour/padding to the jerseys.

The Jackals provide uniform everything from base layers to padding to anything like compression sleeves, knee/arm pads and everything else. Armour is provided by them to ensure it's up to regulation and team standards, the Jackals require some kind of shoulder padding (most of the team has detachable shoulder pads, while Bokuto and Sakusa who prefer more shoulder rotation and just more coverage respectively, where seperate bicep/shoulder pads). I've talked more about armour on older wip posts, but they're based on lacrosse chest pads. Brief version: strikers were shorter, around the vitals, backliners generally are longer on the sides to protect the ribs, goalies have more coverage because duh, and dealers wear whatever they like. Every single one has either hollow rigid or extra padded piece over the centre of the chest because, especially in younger players, a ball to the chest can stop your heart.

And there we go!

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119riize · 1 month

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HEARTS BETRAYAL - S. EUNSEOK

SYNOPSIS .・゜゜・ you and song eunseok are known for being academic rivals, it was no secret. the whole school knew you guys always fought for the number 1 spot, which also led to the public assuming you both hated each others guts. but, did you guys really hate each other?

PAIRING .・゜゜・ eunseok x fem! reader

GENRE .・゜゜・ school au, fluff

TROPE .・゜゜・ academic rivals to lovers

START - END .・゜゜・ 03.31.24 - ongoing

TAGLIST .・゜゜・ feel free to ask!

01. WILL YOU HELP ME STUDY?

AGAIN, THE EXAM RESULTS came in and of course, song eunseok just had to be number one, for the 3rd time in a row. the first time it didn’t really bug you, since you believed the boy was just lucky and you’ll be number one for the second exam. but then the second results came in, you were still number two. and now the third results, again, number two. you stared at the list that was stapled against the wall, specifically looking at Number 1. Song Eunseok and you felt nothing but anger. “how could i let him win three times in a row?” you mumbled underneath your breath before walking away from the list.

“she’s upset isn’t she?” eunseok’s friend, sungchan, nudged him while pointing to you walking away.

“why are you asking me? i don’t care whether she’s upset or not, she earned her spot and i earned mines.” eunseok replied abruptly, startling his friend with the tone of his voice.

“i mean, dont you feel a little bit bad? i bet she’s been working her hardest for these past exams.” sungchan said, but eunseok showed no sign or even felt bad for you. “well clearly she hasn’t been working hard enough.” before his friend could say anything else, eunseok walked away without mumbling another word.

he walked into an empty classroom to study for the next exam that was just around the corner, who knew you were doing the same exact thing, at the same time…in the same classroom he had just happened to walk into. as soon as you heard the door open you looked back, and then made eye contact with your academic rival, song eunseok. you quickly turned away and cursed at yourself, “out of all classrooms, he had to choose this one?”

“this is new. switching up where to study, huh?” eunseok was first to start up an conversation as he sat quite far away from you. “i suppose so. a group of people took my usual classroom, so i have no choice but to stay in here now.” you responded quietly, though the boy still heard you.

“so, how do you feel about the latest exam results?” eunseok asked, and you knew he was just asking that to make you mad. “shut up, i don’t wanna talk about it.”

all your academic rival could do was laugh at your reply. it seemed like he didn’t take you very seriously, which pissed you off but of course you didn’t wanna stir up drama between you two so you kept quiet. it was obvious eunseok was very happy that he placed first three times in a row, but does he feel the need to brag it in your face?

“ok, i get it. you placed above me three times. congratulations, but just a reminder there’s two other exams waiting and i’ll be sure to be number one for those. don’t get too full of yourself, song eunseok.” you said to him, and the boy’s smile faded as he stared at you.

“oh there’s no need to worry about me. these past exam weeks you’ve been overly confident, and now look where you are. below me. the key is to not be so confident that you’re gonna place first, alright?” just listening to the tone of eunseok’s voice, it was clear he was being serious this time.

“overly confident?” you scoffed. the audacity eunseok had to say you are overly confident. and though you are confident, what’s wrong with that? can’t a girl be confident sometimes? eunseok looked over at the desk you were sitting at; even though you two were sitting quite apart from each other, he had good vision. “what are you studying, math?”

you turned around to look at him before responding, “yes, got a problem? the next exam is based on—” before you could even start to be smart with eunseok, he interrupted you before you could let another word out of your mouth. “you do realize you’re studying the wrong unit, right?” he interrupted, smirking as you looked back at your notes.

“oh what do you know about which unit we’re supposed to be studying?” you say frustratedly, and watched as the boy pulled out his giant notebook. “if you were as smart as me, you’d know our teacher continuously told us to study unit 10.” your rival responded and showed his notes in the process. you couldn’t believe eunseok had such smug look on his face after being right.

you angrily put away your notes and grabbed a new sheet of paper. you faced eunseok who just stared at you, “i don’t have the notes for unit 10. im gonna need them to study.” you say, and the other tilt his head with an eyebrow raise, “oh? you need my notes now?”

you sigh, “what do you think?”

“you didn’t ask very nicely, y/n.” eunseok replied, and you just scoffed.

“WILL YOU HELP ME STUDY?” you ask, and the boy smirked.

“of course.”

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taglist. @starwonb1n @kyusqult @teddywook @renjuneoo @lecheugo @seunghancore @sunwoosberrie @b-riize @ilovechanhee @yyangj3lly @07yujin

#hearts betrayal #riize fics #riize eunseok #song eunseok #riize #riize x reader #eunseok x reader #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize fluff #kpop fics #kpop #kpop x reader #academic rivals #lovers #kpop fluff

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florwal · 5 months

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girl could you pls give us a for rent pack review cause im getting so many conflicting reviews😭 we need a real one to help us out!

i haven’t had much free time to play around with it but i can definitely give my opinion on what i’ve experienced so far!

world:

disappointing tbh. for a world that’s finally not super american, they could’ve done a lot more. it feels lazy.

some of the debug buildings are cool, and the world IS pretty but it just gets meh after a while. it doesn’t matter how good something looks, if there’s nothing to do what’s the point? BORINGGG. this is the case with pretty much any new world atp. lots of set dressing but not much to actually do.

i’m so sick of the new worlds having debug plants mostly from older packs like just give me more damn plants PLEASE.

hardly any npcs walk around so it feels very dead. the night market had like 1 sim show up. half of the stalls are decorative.

too many rabbit holes but the beaches are nice.

waaaaay too fucking small. the fact that there’s only 2 neighborhoods and the biggest lot is a 40x30??? bitch what???? for an ep that’s meant to have a lot of apartments… u can’t really build big places in the new world at all. yeah, the new lot type works in any world BUT it’s still an odd choice to me.

build/buy:

LOVE that there’s so many gross/dirty things. i really like the nasty wall decals and the fact that most objects have swatches that look old and used.

super happy about the functional water heaters, radiators, and electrical things.

build/buy doesn’t feel super cohesive to me.

cas:

haven’t gone through all the items much. don’t have much to say about it yet.

wish there was an aspiration to be a slumlord

gameplay:

i’m obsessed with the chance of infestations 🪳🩷 and i really like the mold lot trait. there’s a lot of references to tlou and the mold spreads very quick and gets super chaotic, but i enjoy it.

the nosy trait is fun and the cringe trait is goofy.

bugs/glitches:

a fucking NIGHTMARE for me. i’ve wanted to cry and rip my hair out several times.

there are ways around this, but residential rentals can make everything u placed off lot with tool mod get deleted. i had to go back to an older version of my save to get them back. i’m in the middle of updating my save for christmas and want to get it out asap and this set me back a lot so i’m PISSED!!!!

lot and unit names don’t stick. they revert back to a generic name generated by the game. same thing with editing the rent $ amount and lease days. they all get set back to a game generated one. one of my units also changed to 4 million simoleons and another one became a -negative number and trying to change it back fixed nothing.

the new lot type lags so fucking much it’s basically unplayable and u have to switch back to the regular residential, build and decorate whatever, and then switch to residential rental to set which rooms u want to be units as a last step. some people said repairing the game fixes the lag, but it didn’t fix anything for me. only the new lot type is lagging and freezing for me.

the new landlord sim i made didn’t make any money at all? he owns multiple properties.

overall:

i’m glad there’s south east asian representation but ea could’ve done a lot more.

i would never pay $40 for an expansion pack that feels like a game pack and has a lot of issues. please 🏴‍☠️ that shit if u get it.

if ur mostly just a builder or really want apartments and a new world, get it now. if u don’t, ur not missing that much imo. u can always wait for a sale or for bug fixes (if we ever get any lmfao look at mws and dine out)

#haven’t gone through cas much #i’ll definitely talk more about it as i play around #asks

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confused-robot-cat · 3 months

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Preschool: Numbers are simple. They go 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

School: Numbers go together to make more numbers in all kinds of ways.

High School: Numbers can also be letters and they also have opposites.

College: Numbers can be entirely theoretical.

People: Gosh, learning math sure did get more complicated over time. That's reasonable though.

Preschool: Dog. Cat. Boy. Girl. Flower. Bugs. Rabbits.

School: Dogs and cats are mammals. Flowers are plants. Bugs are insects. Rabbits are rodents.

High School: All bugs are insects, but actually not all insects are bugs. There are lots of different classifications. Let's talk about minibeasts...

College: Rabbits, despite their resemblance to rodents, are actually lagomorphs.

People: Gosh, learning biology sure did get more complicated over time. That's reasonable though.

Preschool: Boy. Girl.

School: Boy, girl, man, woman.

High School: XY Male, XX female.

College: XY male, XX female, XXYY male, XXXX female, X female, XYY male, XY female, intersex, gender identity, gender -vs- sex...

People: There are two genders!!!!! !!! Where were you in high school biology huuuhuhh??????? Stupid!!!!!

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ghoststyles · 7 months

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Fairway to Heaven - Chapter 9

7.8K

SO SORRY I WENT MIA LIFE SUCKED FOR A MIN THERE

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When Harry peels his eyes open at the crack of dawn on a Tuesday, he’s not expecting two beady eyes to be staring into his, mere inches from his face.

“Morning, sleepy!” Hattie’s shrill voice rings through the small guest house. She’s dressed and ready for the day, munching on some Percy Pigs.

“Morning, rug rat. Why’re you eating candy at half eight?” He narrows his eyes, slowly lifting his head from the pillow. “Gimme some.”

Hattie hesitantly hands him one, taking notice of the dwindling number of gummy candies left in the bag.

“Mumma left already and Daddy took a phone call,” she reasons.

Harry rolls his eyes as he chews, pushing himself to his feet.

“C’mon, let’s go get you a proper breakfast.”

She perks up at this, following behind her uncle. Harry’s bones crack as he stretches his limbs. He crosses the slightly damp grass and opens the back sliding door to Gemma and Michal’s house, trying not to let any cats out. Hattie stays in the garden, staring at some worms on the stone pathway.

Harry begins making scrambled eggs and conjuring up any fruit he can find. As the eggs cook slowly, his mind begins to wander. It’s been a little over 2 1/2 months since he returned to England and his mind has had very few thoughts that didn’t include Briar.

He misses her on his runs. He misses her on the train. He misses her in the morning. He misses her when he’s alone in a shop buying fuck-all to fill the void.

Grabbing his phone, he sends his daily “ . ” to Briar, just to check if he’s still blocked. As usual, the message sends in a green bubble.

Pushing the eggs around, he makes it just how Briar likes it; mostly cooked, but still runny. Drudging over to the fridge, he spots some cheese to sprinkle on top. With careful hands, he plates the eggs for the two of them to share.

By this point, Hattie is romping around the garden in her school uniform, getting dirt and muck on her shoes and dress. He stalks over to the door, opening it enough to shout out to her.

“Oi! You’re due at school any minute and you’re ruining your clothes! Get in here.”

Hattie’s head whips up at Harry’s tone. He’s never once yelled at her in her 6 years of existence. Usually, she can get away with anything from painting Harry’s nails to stealing his nice clothes for a fashion show. Harry sees her face drop and can sense the tears are about to start. She stands up, her wide eyes looking at him. She meets him at the door and wraps her arms around his legs.

“‘M sorry, uncle H. Didn’t mean to mess up my dress.”

“It’s okay, bug. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. Why don’t you sit and start eating, and I’ll run upstairs to grab a new dress, yeah? Do you need new socks, too?”

She nods sadly, her bottom lip still in a pout. Harry lowers down to kiss the top of her head.

“Alright, love. Be right back.”

It’s not right. The room is silent, apart from the strained puffs of air hitting her face. Soft praises and dirty comments aren’t being whispered in her ear, and the hairs on the back of her neck aren’t standing straight up. Sweat is building up on her lower back and the backs of her knees as his hips snap sloppily into her.

They’ve been in this spot for a while, Spencer and Briar. If she were with Harry, she’d have reached completion twice by now, and explored 3 different positions. He’s barely uttered a word to her, just periodically grunting and saying, “oh yeah.”

Shuddering at the thought of Harry, she finally musters up the courage to look up at Spencer. His eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip in a manner that would normally be sexy, but to her, it’s repulsive.

They’d been out at a bar with a group of his friends; Briar being the only girl to tag along. They were both drinking and listening intently as his friends told funny stories. He included her when he could, but for the most part, Briar sat quietly to people watch.

“Close, Bri,” he grunts again.

She cringes, again. Only the people she’s closest with call her Bri. Is he asking her if she’s close, or is he telling her he is?

“Mhm,” she squeaks out a lie. He can’t possibly think this is good, right?

“Oh my goddd,” he drags out as he finishes into the condom. His heavy pants continue as he rolls off of her, a little sweat from his chest transferring to hers.

She cringes as he maneuvers his way to lay along side her. When he doesn’t immediately get up to grab a washcloth, she slides herself off the bed, picking up her shorts and throwing her long t-shirt on. She slowly shuffles to the bathroom, willing herself not to cry.

Spencer is nice; he’s respectful, but a little boring. When she looks at him, her heart doesn’t hammer in her chest.

Staring at herself in the mirror, her heart sinks to the floor. Her mascara is smudged, bags more prominent than before.

Briar used to feel enlightened and empowered after sex, a sense of weightlessness hitting her senses. But right now, a pit is formed in her stomach and she can’t wait for him to leave.

Entering the room, she sees Spencer sitting along the edge of the bed in his boxers. He smiles at her before pulling his sweatpants up.

“I have to be at the shop early tomorrow. I’ll text you?”

She inhales sharply, slightly relieved.

“Okay, yeah,” she smiles back as he leans in to peck her on the lips.

“See you later, gorgeous.”

Gus lifts his head as the unfamiliar man makes his way past him before exiting through the front door.

She joins him at his spot on his bed, nuzzling her face into his wide and fluffy neck. She’s a little salty because Spencer didn’t even acknowledge Gus.

“Gus, what did I get us into?”

After 10 weeks in England, the longest period of time he’s spent there since he was 16 years old, Harry is heading back to the U.S.

There were lots of tears from Hattie, sympathetic looks from his sister, and sad waves from his mum.

He’s in his groove as a father to Oliver, balancing work and making time for FaceTime dates and even popping back over to France for a weekend. Camille is bringing Oliver to America in a few days.

His flight was seamless. He opted for business class so he could lay down and sleep. By the time the flight attendant shook him awake, they were just minutes from landing in New York City.

Looking to the escalators, the same ones Briar left him at to go to France over 3 months ago, his heart sinks. Getting broken up with 11 days into a trip is fucking with his head.

Harry’s driver, Paul, is waiting for him, the trunk of the SUV open for his luggage. He’d added an extra bag to carry new clothes and even a new trinket for his collection. Paul gently pats Harry on his back when he approaches.

Sliding into the back seat, Harry doesn’t bother buckling himself in, and lays his long legs over the seats. His eyes are about to close when he gets a text from Niall.

Welcome home, mate. I’ll stop over tomorrow for the meeting?

It’s not that he’s not excited to see Niall, he just can’t stomach acting happy and ignoring the elephant in the room. He wonders if he’s been to Wynnewood recently. He answers Niall with a quick ‘ya’ and shoves his phone in his pocket.

Town is quiet, just a few joggers and dog walkers milling about. It’s early, so the shops are only just opening their doors.

“Hey, Paul, can we stop for a minute? I want to grab a coffee.”

“Sure thing,” Paul says, slowly pulling the car to a stop.

With a cracking of his bones, Harry slides out of the car to stand in the street. He ducks inside the shop to find one guy behind the counter. He’s tall, flowy brown hair with a few tattoos on his arms and hand. He reminds Harry of a younger version of himself.

“Morning, man. Let me know what I can get started for you,” the barista smiles.

“Thanks. I’ll take two large iced cold brews. Black. And a croissant.”

“No problem. I just gotta fire up the oven, so it’ll be a minute," the guy says as Harry taps his credit card.

“Take your time,” Harry waves him off as he tucks himself into a corner booth, pulling out his phone to look at his emails.

A few more people filter into the coffee shop, so the level of chatter increases. Another worker brings over his coffees, and the original worker is pulling the croissant out of the oven.

The bell over the door jingles, signaling someone is entering.

“Hey, Bri!” the barista shouts as he’s pulling two espresso shots.

Harry’s blood runs cold as he wills himself to lift his head. His chest tightens when he’s met with his worst fear.

She’s as breathtakingly gorgeous as the day he left her at the bottom of the airport escalator. Her eyes are still puffy from sleep, but bright and lively as ever. Her skin is perfectly tanned, and her hair pulled into a neat braid that extends down her back. She’s a bit flushed, assuming she is in the middle of a run.

The barista has completely abandoned Harry’s croissant in order to lean over the counter and talk to her. He passes her her favorite drink; a green iced tea, lightly sweetened with lemon.

In his observation of this interaction, Harry forgets to breathe, so he lightly chokes on his own saliva. He’s hidden from their view, so he’s not worried about being caught.

Are they friends? Are they more? Was she in essentially no pain since she ended it?

Peering around, he can’t find an emergency exit. Paul will start to question why he’s been in there so long. The other worker finally brings his croissant to Harry, but there’s no way he can physically stomach it.

More people are entering the coffee shop, so Briar waves shyly to the barista and makes her way out of the shop.

He counts to 30 before pushing himself to his feet. The lock in his jaw is tight and his shoulders are so tense he’s scared he’ll snap a tendon.

He leaves the croissant, grabbing the drinks and stalking out of the shop. He’s moving haphazardly around the small cafe style tables.

“Have a good day, man!” the barista shouts, to which Harry ignores and slams the door with the strength of Thanos, he’s sure the whole building shook.

Paul is stood outside the car, leaning on the hood, his eyes a little wide, “Was that…”

“Yes,” Harry snaps, handing Paul the cup.

He rips the door open returning to his seat. His heart is pounding, and he can’t help but obsess over one detail:

She didn’t fucking pay for her drink.

For the remainder of her run, Briar felt unsettled, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. She never feels this paranoid unless she takes too much of her edible gummies. Even then, she always had Harry with her to make her feel safe.

Things with Spencer are stagnant; they’ve hooked up a few times, and he’s invited her to meet his friends. They have a good time when they’re together, but she isn’t feeling the spark. Since shutting off contact from Harry, she’s grasping for male attention; something she’s worked on since starting therapy.

There’s a networking event at Wynnewood later today, so Briar is anxious to know if Niall will be there. They’ve effectively avoided one another, treading the subject of she and Harry’s relationship lightly.

Her pace picks up when she hits the public garden, stomach twisting in pain when she passes the bench in the little alcove where she and Harry had their first official date. Tears begin to prick in her eyes, making her squeeze them shut to try and stop it from getting worse.

Her relationship grief comes in waves; waves of missing him and fits of anger. Anger at herself, really. Deep down, Briar recognizes she fucked up. She won’t admit it, though. The amount of times she’s wanted to pick up her phone, unblock him and grovel at his feet should have her on some sort of government watchlist. She reaches her apartment complex in record time.

While the shower runs, she foam rolls her legs and starts to lay out her skin care on the counter. Her phone is blasting her calming playlist, and her favorite bergamot candle from Target is lit. She’s not sure what comes over her, but she delicately enters her passcode and scrolls to Harry’s contact.

Her stomach churns and her finger hovers over the unblock button. She’s a split second from unblocking him when she hears Gus bark abruptly in the other room. Slamming her phone back down, she strips her clothes and jumps into the cold shower. That should clear her head a little.

Getting ready and driving to Wynnewood went by in a blur. Her knuckles are white from gripping her steering wheel tightly. She’s certain she’ll see Niall today. He’s the executive sponsor of the networking and charity event on the back course and luncheon in the main dining room. She just hopes his best mate isn’t there to support. She’ll donate an extra buck to make up for that damning thought.

Briar spots her Uncle Patrick in his office squinting at the computer screen as he normally does. She smiles to herself before gently opening the door. Patrick looks up, glasses perched on the end of his nose.

“Hey, Bear,” he smiles brightly.

“Hi,” she sighs, taking her usual spot on the sofa.

“I sent over your itinerary for California. We’ll all be on the same flight, but you’ll be on your own for most of the trip. The boys and I will be playing at Pebble Beach and a few other courses. But, I’m sure you’ll keep busy with your mom.”

Briar inhales through her nose at the mention of her mother. This will be her first time visiting her in her new life in California. Anxiety bubbles in her chest, causing her to feel her pulse at her neck.

“We want you to come over for dinner when you drop Gus off and stay the night so I can take us all to the airport Sunday morning.”

Her jaw locks at that. This is a mandated trip, planned by her uncle so she can’t put it off. She’s the last of her siblings to visit. Seeing her mother start over with a new family seems too much to bear. Her heart hurts thinking about it.

“Okay. Are you sure Aunt Mer is okay watching him? I can have Caroline stay at my apartment.”

“She’s fine. She’ll want a buddy for the week, anyway.”

Briar hums, playing with the hem of her shirt as she musters up the courage to go out on the course. But before she does, she scrolls to Harry’s contact again and finally bites the bullet to unblock him.

Harry finally makes it back to his house. The sun is rising, casting an orange hue over the windows. He sees his annoying neighbor Maureen watering her plants, so he’s sure if she sees him she’ll fill him in on 12 weeks of nonsense he missed.

The lawn is well kept and the windows are clean. Madison did a good job of making sure his house is in order. His heart twinges when he enters the new code on his lock, imagining Briar on this same step, cursing him out and steam blowing out of her ears. He misses the way her nose would scrunch up any time she was cross with him.

Slowly, the door opens and the deafening silence hits him like a bus. No sign of life anywhere. He isn’t tripping over her shoes, and he doesn’t smell the light traces of coconut and citrus from her perfume anymore.

Paul follows behind him, placing his bags down by the entryway. Harry says nothing, but nods at him appreciatively.

“I’ll be back to pick you up for the airport on Sunday, Harry.”

“Thanks, Paul. Have a good day.”

Dreading the walk upstairs, Harry continues on with his carry-on so he can shower and try to sleep off as much jet lag as he can. He has a feeling he’ll have a lot of early mornings this week to get back on track.

He stomps up the stairs, preparing himself to see his bedroom with no traces of Briar left. The door squeaks when he opens it, and a gust of wind escapes his lungs. It feels wrong; almost too sterile. Briar brings a certain level of peace and comfort everywhere she goes, and now his house feels empty and void of color and fun.

Hell, he even wishes his sheets were twisted from Gus rolling around on the bed even though Harry hates it. The three of them just fit. It was easy.

Harry pads into the bathroom, turning the water in his shower on the hottest setting, ignoring the lonely blue toothbrush sitting on the counter, clearly missing its pink companion.

“Fuck,” he chokes out, not expecting to be hit with the grief from something as simple as that.

Just before he strips, he opens his text conversation with Briar to send his daily “ . ” to see if he’s still blocked. This time, the message is blue.

Harry’s heart stops for a split second. A rush of adrenaline shoots up his spine, but he can’t help the smile that’s formed on his face.

Briar finally emerged from Patrick’s office, so she quickly scurries to the garage to start loading up her cart. The bar backs already got a head start on it, so really she is only putting out the fun straws and straightening up.

She spots Joaquin, the stuffed bird Harry got her. She’ll spare him — for now. She thanks the boys for their help before setting off to the back course.

Wynnewood is packed with people, thanks to the networking and fundraising event hosted by Niall and the men’s league he plays in on Wednesday nights. She’s bound to see him, so she’s basking in the moments of no awkwardness.

Zipping past the practice green and driving range, she spots a lot of members who are never at the club at the same time; it’s all of her worlds colliding at once. No sign of Niall.

The shift is going relatively smoothly; Everyone is in great moods, and being even more generous. She’s already decided she’ll donate a portion of her tips to the fundraiser.

Rounding the 14th hole, she sighs as she sees Niall seemingly waiting for her. He’s leaning suavely on his golf club, tan chinos hugging his legs nicely. He smiles at her facial expression, knowing he has her in his trap.

Panicking, Briar slowly approaches him on the path. As Niall begins to speak, Briar punches the gas and plows over the grass, cutting around Niall. In shock, he whips around and begins to shout after her. She smiles to herself smugly as she whips to the 15th hole.

The grounds crew will have to forgive her for fucking up the grass.

Briar makes it through the afternoon without running into Niall again. But at 3pm, she’s in need of a break. She parks the cart and heads to the locker room. Staring down at her phone, her breath hitches when she sees a notification from Harry.

Just as she’s about to swipe to open the message, a pair of hands grabs her and she’s suddenly lifted into the air.

“Oh my God! What the f—”

Niall is laughing hysterically as he drags her into the empty steam room. He covers her mouth so she stops screaming. He places her down on the ground and she starts to smack him on the chest.

“Niall, what the fuck is wrong with you? Grabbing a fucking girl like that!”

“I know, you’ll have to forgive me,” He laughs sitting down on the teak bench. “I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Okay,” he reasons, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sure about that?”

Briar stays put. Niall cocks his head at her, fully assuming if that were the truth, she’d have left by now.

“Fine,” she grumbles. “What?”

“What is going on? You’ve been AWOL, Harry won’t talk to me, and I’m just plain miserable. Why did he fuck off to England?”

Briar is quiet. She had no idea he hasn’t been in the states this entire time. She figured he was avoiding Wynnewood.

“He was in England?”

Niall hums, “There it is. There’s the confirmation.”

“Fucking — Fine, yes, Niall, we broke up. I broke it off.”

Niall sighs again standing up to face her, “I figured as much. It’s been like, two months, and he’s barely had a conversation that’s not about work with me. He worked remotely from his sister’s.”

Her heart hurts knowing Harry fled to England; reminiscent of when Camille ended the engagement. She can’t help but feel like a villain.

“Briar, you’re 24. I think anyone with a good head on their shoulders would have apprehensions if their significant other has a kid. He just needed time.”

Tears prick in her eyes as she hears the one thought she’s been beating herself up over for weeks.

“I know,” she admits quietly.

“There’s plenty of time to fix it, if that’s what you want.”

Niall pulls her to his chest, the most physical touch she’s received in weeks. He leans down to whisper in her ear, “I’m sweating out of my arsehole right now.”

She guffaws and shoves him, turning on her heels to leave the steam room. She pulls her phone back out to deal with the text from Harry. She mentally prepares to read a long text trying to get her back. Instead, she’s met with a single “ . ”

What the fuck?

Friday night comes quicker than Briar likes. She begrudgingly loads her luggage and Gus’s supplies into the Jeep and sets off for her Aunt and Uncle’s house. Her brothers are already there, based on the memes in the “BarlHOES” family group chat.

Her uncle is quick to help her unload and manage Gus, and Cormac grabs her small suitcase and backpack. She gives her youngest brother a big hug. They silently embrace until Cormac pulls away.

She follows the two of them inside and is greeted by her aunt.

“Hi, sweets! I’ve missed you, honey.”

Briar hugs her aunt and gives her her best fake smile. Meredith looks at her knowingly.

Dinner goes by in a blur; Briar only participating if directly spoken to. The boys head to bed early to prepare for their rude wake up call at 3:30 AM. Patrick bids the girls a good night after he takes out the trash.

Briar slowly backs out of the kitchen, hoping her aunt doesn’t notice. Meredith clears her throat and slams two wine glasses down on the kitchen island. She silently reaches down into the wine fridge and pulls out a Cabernet Sauvignon.

“Sit,” Meredith orders.

Briar exhales and gives in. She pulls out the stool and rests her legs on the spare one between them while Meredith pours.

“How long?” Meredith pries.

“How long, what?” Briar plays dumb.

“The break up. The break. Whatever you’re calling it,” She pokes. “The reason you’ve been M.I.A.”

“10 weeks, maybe? I ended it,” Briar replies, stone faced. “I’m hooking up with someone from my program now.”

Meredith sighs, taking a sip of her wine. “What spooked you?"

“Nothing. I just wanted Harry to be able to adjust to being a dad without me in the way. I had the parent who didn’t choose her kids, and it sucked.”

“I think those were two completely different situations, Bri. Your mom had issues and needed to focus on getting better. Harry can easily find a balance with his circumstances.”

Briar rubs her neck, “I’m only 24, I can’t be someone’s step-mom,” Briar replies out of exasperation.

Meredith glares at her and clears her throat, “Um, I was only 27 when I took in FIVE little monsters. Cormac was barely even eating solid foods!”

Briar laughs, and takes a sip. “You’re right. I didn’t think about that.”

“It was the sexiest thing watching Patrick care for all of you. It showed commitment and stability,” Meredith recalls fondly. “And it takes a strong partner to keep it all together. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

Briar inhales deeply, resting her head on her forearms, “I know what we had was good. Amazing, even. I fucked it all up. I told him not to contact me. But obviously I wanted him to. He respects me so fucking much, he listened!”

Meredith laughs, “Briar, he’s 40 years old. He’s not gonna play your game. So, now, you need to figure out what you’re going to do about it. I suggest you do some reflecting and journaling when you’re in California. And smoke a joint. It’ll give you all the clarity you need.”

Briar hums, shaking her head.

“I think you already know what you want. You just have to go get it.”

Harry’s wake up call on Sunday ripped him from a deep sleep; the best night’s sleep he’s had since getting back to the states. He’s usually up by 4:45 AM pacing the kitchen and reorganizing things for the hell of it.

But today, he’s sluggish, and doesn’t even want to move from his bed. Rising to a seated position on the edge, he cracks his neck, followed by several cracks down his vertebra.

He checks his phone to find a text from Camille from 30 minutes ago. She, Oliver, Theo and Amelie are 2 hours from landing. Harry and Oliver are going on a solo trip, so Camille and her family are staying in New York for the next 2 weeks while they bond. Harry has a few stops in mind, and he can’t wait to spend this time alone with him.

Paul texts Harry that he’s downstairs. He unlocks the door from his phone, and sends him a text to let him know where his luggage is. For good measure, Harry checks his messages between himself and Briar. The message is still blue, but no indication that she read it.

He slips down the stairs after getting ready to head to the airport to meet them. Harry and Oliver’s flight is in a few hours, giving them plenty of time to go through customs and get him situated.

The ride is silent; Harry slipping in and out of a light sleep. Paul isn’t talkative in the morning, either. For some odd reason, there’s a traffic jam at the terminal. Harry can’t quite place what’s going on, but spots a family that looks like they’re arguing and some of their bags rolled into the road. Harry shrugs and pulls hood further over his eyes to block out the bright lights of the terminal.

Camille’s plane hasn’t landed yet, so Harry opts to lay in the car until it’s closer to when they’ll hit customs. With time to kill, he slips back into a peaceful sleep.

“Get the fuck out of my face!” Jasper screams at Welles before shoving him out of the way.

“I didn’t even fucking do anything!” Welles screams back.

Before they know it, suitcases are toppling over into the street, and Uncle Patrick jumps out of the driver’s seat to intervene. He shoves Jasper, who’s significantly taller than the rest of the boys, and shoots Welles a glare.

“Knock it off! Callum, Cormac. Pick the suitcases up. Now!”

Cars are honking and swerving to avoid the family’s altercation. All of this is happening at the grand old time of 6:15 AM. The younger boys roll their eyes before listening to their uncle.

Briar is disassociating in the passenger’s seat, not even lifting her head to assess the situation. She woke up with extreme anxiety, so she’s just praying her heart doesn’t jump out of her chest.

“Fucking ridiculous. 30 years old, for Christ’s sake,” Patrick mutters about Welles.

If there’s one thing about the Barlowe boys, they settle everything physically. They’ll even team up on Briar every once in a while, throwing her in a headlock or slamming her down on the sofa.

She finally snaps from her daze and maneuvers to grab her belongings. For all she cares, she’ll head in alone and pretend she doesn’t know them. Once she’s through security and has her Starbucks, she’ll be golden.

They descend toward the escalator, until Briar hears a gasp. She whips her head around to her younger brother, Cormac, looking white as a ghost.

She places her hands on his shoulders, her sisterly instincts kicking in, “Mac? What’s wrong, bubby? Are you gonna be sick?”

He speaks so softly she has to lean in to hear him.

“Bri, I forgot my license. Are they gonna let me on the plane?”

She tries to mask the pain on her face, but fails. She glances over at her stressed uncle, whose blood pressure is probably only just lowering. Cormac turned 18 3 days ago, so she knows their chances of flying without his license is slim to none

“It’s okay, I’ll tell Uncle Patrick,” she pats his head lightly.

They are 25 feet from the security line, so Briar speaks up.

“Uncle Pat, don’t make a scene, please,” she reasons. “Mac doesn’t have his I.D.”

Patrick closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to try and regulate his reaction. Wordlessly, he pulls out his phone to dial American Airlines. Briar watches as he places his phone between his shoulder and ear, and aggressively waves the family to follow him back downstairs.

Needless to say, none of the Barlowes got on that plane.

It was just like the movies when Harry reunited with Oliver. He stood at the bottom of the escalators and waited for his boy to spot him from the top. He immediately bounces on his heels but refrains from running down the escalator when Camille shoots him a look. Amelie is strapped to Camille’s chest while Theo manages the bags.

“Papa!” Oliver shouts as soon as he’s within earshot of Harry.

“Mate! Welcome to America!”

Camille smiles as she makes the final steps off the escalator. She looks down at her excited boy fondly and gives Harry a side hug as to not disturb the baby.

“Customs line long?” Harry asks, breaking up the mild awkward silence. Theo finally joined them, shaking Harry’s hand and pulling him in for a bro hug.

“Not bad today. Packed far too much, though,” Theo grumbles, looking directly at Camille.

“2 1/2 weeks in New York means 2 months worth of clothes,” she smirks.

While Harry takes Oliver to California solo, Theo and Camille are staying in New York. Camille worked out several business deals, so she’ll have in-person meetings the entire time. When Harry and Oliver return, they’ll fly home to Paris together. After that, Harry’s not sure when he’ll see him next.

Camille felt more comfortable being in on the same continent during their first solo trip. Harry is stoked — he planned the whole trip to Montecito, being sure to hit all his old favorite spots and spend plenty of time in the sun. Even though he and Camille aren’t together, he thinks it’s important to tell Oliver about their story. He probably won’t understand, but he’s excited nonetheless.

Oliver stifles a yawn, so Harry takes that as their queue to start their own trip. They have about an hour until their flight. He needs coffee and a good bagel.

Camille leans down to give Oliver a huge hug, whispering in his ear to behave, be kind and have fun. The boy smiles brightly, wiggling his first loose tooth at her.

“That tooth better be gone when I see you next, mister!” She smiles, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“I think we can arrange that. Does the tooth fairy travel?” Harry laughs.

Harry bids the couple farewell, and drags he and Oliver’s bags behind him. He spots a Dunkin’ Donuts, so he decides to treat them to some coffee — hot chocolate for the little guy — and munchkins.

Oliver’s eyes light up at the taste of his first American donut. Harry hopes he isn’t going to regret this later, unsure of how Oliver reacts to loads of sugar. It’s the American way, he supposes.

To pass the time, Oliver colors and the two of them play tic tac toe. He’s grateful he wasn’t raised as an iPad child. They talk about what movies they’re going to watch, fully knowing the boy will probably sleep for most of the flight. He’s a trooper after almost 24 hours of travel.

Harry shows Oliver pictures of their bungalow for the next 2 weeks; a small cottage steps from the beach and a short walk from the Beachwood Cafe, he and Camille’s old stomping grounds.

About 20 minutes before the flight, Harry ushers them over to their gate. As he’s sitting down, he partially tunes out the chatter around him, until he hears an announcement from the desk associate, her accent thick.

“Bare-low party of six, please check in at the desk.”

Harry looks around, in case the love of his life is right under his nose. He can’t be that lucky.

Then again, 10 minutes later.

“Bare-low, party of six, last call to check-in. Standby passengers, please come to the desk.”

Getting Oliver settled, they wait for their boarding call. They board third, a new perk of having a kid.

He places their bags in the overhead bin, sets his boy up with snacks, juice and headphones for a movie, but he can already see his little eyelids fluttering. Painstakingly slow, the plane boards. Harry paid close attention to the passengers coming on, and he knew his luck had run out.

Though, the seat next to him is suspiciously empty as the pilot announces the closing doors.

Thanks to Aunt Meredith leaving pilates to drive an hour to the airport during rush hour, Mac has his license and they’re booked for a later flight. The family swiftly runs through security and heads to their gate. The boys have calmed down, opting to lay in an empty row of chairs. Two are sleeping and two are scrolling their phones.

Patrick is scratching Briar’s head as she leans against him, something they’ve always done since she was little and pretended to be a dog everywhere they went.

Their boarding group is called, so they embark on their journey, leaving Briar to suck it up. She’s decided she’s going to make this trip about her, leaving all distractions behind. Her mother, Harry, Spencer, and school.

Settling into her seat, she turns on the movie she queued up and gets comfortable. She watches about 25 minutes of the movie before dozing off. She hopes Patrick will wake her to get a biscoff biscuit and a ginger ale, but she doesn’t have high expectations.

Patrick nudges Briar awake when there’s 40 minutes left in their flight. She climbs over a sleeping Cormac to use the bathroom and stretch her legs. She spots her other brothers a few rows back, smiling at the way they’re piled on one another. It reminds her of them all as kids, dog piling on a fort of pillows in the basement.

She stretches her arms above her head as she pees, swearing plane bathrooms have gotten smaller. She takes a selfie in the plane bathroom before heading back to her seat. Cormac is still passed out, so she clambers over him to the window seat.

Before she knows it, the plane is descending into Los Angeles. A pit forms in her stomach knowing she is spending the next 2 weeks with her mom while her brothers and uncle golf and surf most of the time.

Patrick rented two cars; so she opts to ride with Welles. It’s not often the two of them are alone. He was 12 when their dad died, so he had a more realistic grasp on what was happening to their family. He was Cormac’s age when their mother sought treatment. His bright, happy demeanor dissipated quickly. It makes Briar’s heart hurt sometimes. Her siblings dealt with these issues differently, and they’ve never had a true heart to heart about it.

They drive for a few miles, Welles fiddling with the Bluetooth and playing his music. They’re in the car for the next few hours, so Briar finally got the courage to speak up.

She clears her throat, “what moment did you realize Mom needed help?”

Welles’ eyebrows scrunch, and he looks over at his sister before looking back at the road.

“Uhm,” he starts, not sure where to begin. “I remember Mom picking me up from the first day of middle school. She was waiting for me in the pick up line, and she was slurring her words. I obviously didn’t know what being high was, so I was scared something was wrong with her health.”

She closes her eyes, remembering that day vividly. Uncle Patrick came storming into the house, yelling at their mother. Welles called him, too scared to get in the car with her.

“I remember that,” Briar replies quietly. “Mine was when she kept missing important things; school events and doctors appointments. It got to the point she didn’t know what day it was.”

“Yeah,” Welles responds solemnly. “Well, that’s in the past now. She’s better. Even though I don’t agree with some of the choices she’s made recently, we have to try to support her.”

“I know,” she starts to sniffle. “It was just fucked up to put that kind of pressure on us.”

Welles reaches over to squeeze her shoulder, “I know, Bear.”

Harry and Oliver’s trip started off smoothly. He collected their bags and got them on the shuttle to the rental car office. Oliver could still barely keep his eyes open, so Harry held him while they stood in line. When it was finally their turn, Harry was ecstatic (first to relieve his back and arms from carrying 55 pounds, and second, because he rented them a convertible coupe).

It’s similar to the car he used to drive around Montecito as golden hour hit the coastline. He and Camille would drive on the Pacific Coast Highway and head to the beach to smoke a joint and watch the stars. He smiles to himself fondly.

He sets Oliver up with a booster seat in the back, and rolls the top down. If he weren’t so tired, he’s sure he’d be smiling ear to ear.

“Papa, je suis fatigué,” Oliver mumbles.

Harry smiles to himself. Even though Oliver can speak English well, his native tongue slips out when he’s exhausted.

“I know, mate. As soon as we’re at the house we can sleep some more.”

“D’accord, Papa.”

They drive for a while, and Harry slows down to stare out at the ocean as he drives through familiar towns. He’s excited to have some decent Mexican food again.

They pull up to the bungalow a little before noon. He lifts Oliver from his booster, laying his head on his shoulder. He unlocks the door based on the AirBnB host’s instructions, and gently lays him down on the sofa in the main room. His face scrunches in protest, and Harry can’t help but feel like he’s looking in the mirror. Even their mannerisms are identical.

Jogging back out to the car, Harry unloads and gets everything inside before locking up. He’s excited to head out back and enjoy the view. He snaps a few photos of the water, and sends his daily “ . ” text to Briar.

The bubble is blue again.

Briar and Welles talked the whole drive to Montecito. They laughed as they covered what seemed like years they’ve missed out on being close. She hopes this is a turning point for them.

Her phone chimes, and her heart stops as she looks down at the notification. Another fucking “ . ” from Harry! What does that even mean?

“What’s wrong?” Welles pipes up. She must’ve made a sound or had a sour face.

“Oh, um. I’m not sure if I told you, but Harry and I broke up.”

“Yeah, Jasper told me. Sorry to hear.”

“Thanks. So, I blocked him like, 2 months ago, and I just unblocked him the other day. I’ve been getting messages that only have a period in them, and I have no idea what that means.”

“It means he’s been testing if he’s still blocked. He’s probably been sending those the entire time.”

Briar ponders this. She kind of thinks it’s funny. And a little sad.

She laughs, “Do you know that from experience?”

“Maybe. Before Imani and I were good together, we were not so good together,” he says, hysterically laughing.

The GPS indicates they’re at their destination. It’s a nice house that overlooks the ocean, and appears to be well kept.

Patrick and the other boys are already inside, so Welles and Briar approach the front door to knock. They’re greeted by a small girl, no older than 8 years old, in a purple princess gown.

“Hi,” Briar smiles.

The girl ignores her and retreats back inside. She and Welles shrug, stepping into the threshold of the house. They follow the loud voices into the main living room. Along the way, she spots photos on the walls of her mother, her new husband, and his kids. Her heart pangs when she realizes there isn’t a trace of her or her brothers.

“Bear! Wellie!” Catherine Barlowe screeches. “All my babies under one roof!”

She hugs both of them and plants strong kisses on their cheeks.

“Did you meet Penelope?”

“Uh, I think so,” Welles responds.

“You remember Dean, right? And these are his two other girls, Daphne and Delaney,” she points to two identical girls. They’re probably 10 years old. Brian remembers seeing photos of them at the wedding.

Dean leans in to give her a hug and shake Welles’ hand.

They all exchange pleasantries until Briar excuses herself outside. Their back deck is gorgeous, and overlooks a picturesque part of the ocean. She snaps a few photos, and fights the urge to send them to Harry.

By the end of day 9, Harry is exhausted. He wasn’t aware of the mental toughness required to occupy a child, feed said child, and and also take care of himself. His heart grows three sizes everytime Oliver smiles during a new activity, making it all worth it.

They’ve already explored the beaches, went shopping, went to the aquarium, explored Big Sur, and even spent a day on the golf course. Harry just had to sneak one day of golf in to keep sane. Oliver reacted well and had fun chasing the golf cart, despite the nasty looks from members.

They start off most of their days by walking to Beachwood for coffee and croissants, and Harry tells Oliver their plans for the day. It’s been nice to reminisce his life with Camille. Almost like exposure therapy.

They check in with Camille frequently, and Harry’s even gone out of his way to vlog their entire trip. Maybe he’ll put together a video at the end. Briar used to love vlogging. She’d take 1 second clips and arrange them with his favorite songs. Some videos were for their eyes only.

Camille is busy with work, but she’s thinking of leasing a New York apartment to make traveling with Oliver easier. Harry’s not sure how to feel about it.

Harry goes to sleep that night with a plan to take Oliver kayaking. They’ll swing by Beachwood before heading off.

Briar’s brothers and uncle have golfed every single day, leaving her to stay with her mother and her new family. It’s interesting seeing her mother in this role; almost like she’s on a TV show. This trip should be healing for Briar, but she feels an overwhelming sense of anxiety.

The moment she woke up, Briar informed her mother that she’d like to spend the day alone. They’d gone shopping one on one and went to lunch, but Briar felt a major disconnect. Her mother took some offense, but understood she’s there for a few more days.

Slipping on her running sneakers and pink trucker hat, Briar set off up the hills of Montecito. She’s explored every coffee shop in the neighborhood and has one left that her mother raves about; the Beachwood Cafe. Her running pace has improved tremendously, so she makes it to the doors of the cafe just after 8. It’s jam packed, but she realizes it’s a Saturday. On vacation, she loses track of the days.

After ordering her iced green tea and a croissant, she spots an open table outside. The sun is shining, but the damning humidity from the east coast is nowhere to be found. She could live in weather like this forever.

Her podcast is playing and she just started the mini crossword when she feels the vibrations of the extra seat at her table being drug away from the table. Startled, Briar looks up to find a young boy, loose chocolate brown curls on his head, freckles, and bright green eyes staring at her. Still a bit stunned, Briar doesn’t react when the boy sits at her table. He has a book of marine animals with him, equipped with a sticker set.

Her heart is beating erratically. It can’t be, can it?

The boy is paying her no mind as she wordlessly starts to pack up her things. She’s cursing herself for bringing so much shit with her on a run. He munches on his croissant with strawberry jam and watches her fumble around.

Finally, she gathers her things and heads to the door, her head down in case this is really happening. She takes 5 stunted steps before running into a rock-solid object. She stares down at the brightly colored Hoka sneakers belonging to the man she’s utterly in love with, but is choosing to torture herself and stay away from.

“Birdie?”

___________________________________________

REUNITED N IT FEELS SO GOOOOOOD :D

Wrapping up the story in part 10 <3 I already know how I want it to go, so hopefully I can get it up soon.

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