#i hope i answered this well enough this is fucking word vomit lmao

[mavspeed]

Heyo! Just wanted to come thank you again for the awesome chapter and wish you well. I was completely blown away by chapter 7 and the way you keep giving these little pieces of the puzzle that is IceMav’s relationship but not so much that we can put it together all the way. You have to keep coming back and then think about how both characters might have experienced the same moment in different ways, if that makes sense. You really play in the unreliable narrator so well and I am living for it. Like I always want to believe that the narrator is telling the truth and to an extent they are because that’s how they experienced and understood what was happening but they don’t realize their perception is being marked or shadowed by their past experiences and/or biases. It the best thing because I live for multiple perspectives so it’s like that scene character A took it this way while Character B understood this way. It’s great, phenomenal, one of my absolute favorite writing techniques.

I do have a couple questions though if you don’t mind and feel free to take as much time responding as you want. Do the flyboys really blame Ice for what happened or is that his guilt and terrible self worth talking? Like I know you mentioned Slider not talking to him for a bit after the break up but do they understand that both Maverick and Iceman fucked up? Also can you perhaps explain a little more why Maverick felt so hurt? Your writing really made me feel the emotions during these scenes but I have been having a hard time wrapping my head around some stuff. I am very slow on the uptake and can’t always make connections as to why people get upset about certain things. Was he hurt that Ice had been keeping secrets and denying the validity of their relationship to Ice’s family? Upset that Ice was no longer bringing him to the parties? I totally understand if you can’t reveal any of these answers yet or if you just want to point towards a certain chapter for these answers, then that works too.

Ok I think I have word vomited enough to you and hope you have a great rest of the week. Thanks again so much for the update and all your hard work because 16000 words is no joke.

hiiii this is such a lovely lovely comment thank you so so much! seriously I always greatly appreciate it when people express that they like my writing style bc I hate it most days lmfjjdks❤️❤️

as for your questions! do the flyboys really hate ice for what happened- nope, they don’t. it’s mostly his guilt talking bc he genuinely feels terrible still for how he handled the end to their relationship (although Mav had a hand to play in it too 👀)

the slider thing is honestly ice blowing it way out of proportion. here’s the thing- slider could only hear about what happened from one person only, and that was ice, since the other one cut off all communication and went cold turkey on them. he hears ice blame himself and runs with the facts. except he doesn’t have two sides to the story and ice is skewing the account of it too much in Mav’s favour! plus, slider was Also hurt by mav’s isolation, and he unknowingly puts the blame on ice. and you have to admit, it sounds pretty bad from ice’s pov only. lying to mav for 9 months and then cold shouldering him for one more month? WHEW. anyone would be a little Yo Dude What The Fuck after hearing that. but yeah, after a while slider comes to his senses and realises he was being unfair to ice. ice just keeps thinking slider is mad at him until one day slider comes up to him and is like dude chill I’m not mad 😭

ALSO DONT SELF-FLAGELLATE that honour belongs only to icemav!! you can ask me anything seriously I don’t mind answering stuff!! you are absolutely not slow on the uptake sometimes I leave a little too much subtext in my fic lmao. for the mav thing: he wasn’t hurt about the parties in any way, he hates them 💀 but yeah, he’s that hurt because ice lied to him in a massive, massive way- and again, for NINE MONTHS.

at this point, he just wanted a little bit of clarity and openness from ice. like ice has refused to tell him about his family for so long and this lie sort of... toppled the deck of cards lmao. it’s got mav thinking- does he care about me as much as I do for him? or have I been reading this wrong and I am just a warm body for him?

you can argue that it is a little bit hypocritical of mav to be all You Lied To Me! when mav has Also been lying to ice and downplaying the severity of some stuff in his past + goose-related trauma. but at the same time, lying about your family, telling them you dumped your boyfriend, going to parties and putting up the appearance of a single man... it’s wild! it’s crazy! and that’s why he got so upset.

(this is getting way too long of an answer once again) but anyway, all this gets hashed out in a proper conversation/screaming argument between them... eventually. their second go of it won’t be so disastrous, I promise 🙏🏼

[hekatekun]

hiii i really really love the way you write and the themes you touch on in your posts id love to hear if theres any books/media that influenced your writing style + the things you focus on in your analyses !

omg hiiii thank you<3 this got annoying so lemme put it under cut lol

This is actually really hard for me to pin down I've been racking my brains over this one. I tend to be a little bit of everywhere, just whatever catches my interest at the time. Most of my personal reading is nonfiction within the realm of philosophy/theology + history + english criticism; whatever fiction I do get around to tends to be horror and/or satire. House of Leaves by MZD actually has just about everything that tickles my fancy. Finally read it beginning of 2021 and I truly haven't been the same since. That's definitely a big one.

But to give you an idea here's the pile of books I'm looking at on my desk as I type this is: an anthology of John Wesley's sermons (founder of Methodism), House of Leaves, an anthology of Percy Shelley's poetry + prose, "The Sphinx in the City" essays on urban living + feminism, the communist manifesto, a dissertation on the influence of Hermann Hesse in Japan, "Thank God for the Atom Bomb" essays by a "conservative cultural critic", and how could i forget the 70pgs of the unabomber's manifesto i printed out.

Currently been slowly making my way through "Romanticism and Consciousness" which are essays on the historical/political background influencing Romantic literature. More often than not I tend to look for essays and critical readings of works before I actually do read said work proper. I don't recommend this btw I just never listen to my own advice. But like, this book inspired me to buy the Shelley anthology. And some of the essays in the Shelley anthology analyzing him I actually found online weeks prior and added them to my digital library. I'd rather read them physically, as I tend to highlight my books. I find highlighting + margin notes really help me stay focused otherwise simply Sitting And Reading makes me go a lil nutz unless the book really is that good. I backed an artist's first comic book that had me ensnared recently. Independent comics tend to do a number on me. Yes I'm still a huge homestuck fan. Will be going 8 years strong.

I reread Brave New World late 2020 after, somehow, getting my hands on it in middle school. Comparing the way the protagonist kills himself at the end vs trying to read Huxley's theological pieces, he should've stuck to the racist satire. I'm still gonna try to finish the Perennial Philosophy, though. All this rambling has me realizing the childhood series I grew up on was A Series of Unfortunate Events, so I think I'm starting to notice a trend.

But actually the biggest media type I consume is games I fucking love video games. I think I cried playing Disco Elysium. I wish more games understood its medium as well as DE. I think that's really what you have to find is stuff that understands its medium. Ososan is a show that is really fucking good at being a tv show, and I think it helps because it doesn't necessarily draw from anything prior because it's such a different beast from osokun (the ososan manga actually came out like a few months after it aired I learned recently).

I don't watch many movies or shows, and the ones I do make me really wanna read the original source material just so I could compare (A Clockwork Orange, American Psycho). I just last watched the Belladonna of Sadness and I think that's an animated movie that understands it's an animated movie. Why go for realism when you've got watercolors?

My other main criteria for any piece of work is that it makes me want to pick up smoking. I don't think I could explain this further if you asked.

Aside from. Any of whatever I just said. My writing background is largely academic with some journalistic experience. It makes media analysis really easy. It also helps that there's technically no wrong answer when it comes to critical readings, just like any school essay you just have to be able to back up your claims with evidence and articulate the connections you see. Prose is a new beast that I am attempting to tame but I think 1. You need to have fun with the learning process and I do in fact enjoy learning. This includes a willingness to examine and reexamine your own words even after you're done working on a piece and analyzing what you can/need to improve on. 2. I really enjoy being able to construct a sentence in a million different ways and I will always have a tab open for the Merriam-Webster dictionary-thesaurus while writing ANYTHING. 3. Did I mention having fun? I really have fun writing I love writing as a hobbyist. 4. Consume and question everything in equal measure. This will eventually produce something.

[secretsolarsystem]

Prompt: “you’re so bad at this. It’s cute.” (Literally all I can think about for this is anakin trying to flirt on an undercover mission lmao.)

okay you’re SO RIGHT about this being Anakin flirting undercover. boy cannot flirt to save his life but he’s all the more cute for it <3

this is written in the same ‘verse as the lil ex-Jedi!Obi-Wan/padawan!Anakin fic I wrote!! this takes place a few years after that…idk how many lol, but Anakin is still in the Jedi Order here :)

ex-Jedi!Obi-Wan, padawan!Anakin, bad flirting at some random twi’lek guy I didn’t even give a name, Obi-Wan saving the day YET AGAIN, 2.1k <3

—

Taking a deep breath, Anakin reminded himself why he was here. The target, a twi’lek, was suspected of working with a local bounty hunter, the twi’lek seducing their targets to get information to ensure an easy catch for the hunter. The Jedi were of course not a fan of any guns for hire, but this one was getting too confident and going bigger and bigger with their targets. Soon, the Jedi worried, prominent figures would fall victim. 

So that was the main reason this mission existed at all. But Anakin needed to remind himself why he was here, or else he’d bail.

He was here because the Council suspected that the best way to catch a bounty hunter that was trying to show off was to bait him with his very own Jedi. So they put out a bounty on Anakin, hoping to get first to the twi’lek and then to the hunter. 

Anakin specifically was here because, well – everyone else was busy.

That, and when the Council tried to encourage him, telling him he just needed to flirt enough to get the twi’lek to leave the bar with him so the knights waiting outside could follow them to wherever the man ran his part of the operation, Mace Windu, Anakin’s own master, snorted. He snorted.

Because yeah, Anakin couldn’t flirt for shit. But for Master Windu to snort and say, “Force help us all – I mean, did you see him with the senator from Naboo?” was enough for Anakin to narrow his eyes right at his master as he accepted the mission.

Now he was wishing he’d just taken the joke as a warning and declined. Because, truly, Anakin couldn’t flirt for shit. Not like a normal person would, anyway. Words weren’t always Anakin’s strong suit, but when he truly meant and felt what he said, Anakin could be quite articulate and even persuasive.

Did he want to fuck this conman? No, not at all. But did he want to see him brought to justice? Yeah, obviously.

And did he want to make his master take his snort back? That more than anything made him take one more deep breath and make his way towards the bar itself.

Fortunately, utilizing the fact that he was a Jedi allowed Anakin to wear his typical Jedi attire, affording him some comfort in this very uncomfortable situation. Holding the familiar ends of his sleeves between his palms and his fingers, Anakin approached the empty seat at the bar next to where the twi’lek sat, and asked, “Is this seat taken?”

Except- Maybe he just didn’t hear him? Because the twi’lek didn’t answer. Anakin coughed. “Oh, um- Excuse me?” The man whipped his head around quickly, making Anakin snap to attention. But with the man’s attention on him, sneering as he was, Anakin asked again, “Is this, uh, seat taken?”

The man gave him a once over, his yellow eyes starting at Anakin boots and trailing up, widening in what must be intrigue as he took in his lightsaber and then his padawan haircut. “Only by you,” the man purred, lips quirking into an easy smile as he watched Anakin take a seat.

Giving the twi’lek a smile – he’d meant for it to be suave, but he knew it probably looked like he was going to vomit – Anakin waved down the bartender, waiting anxiously for them to arrive. “Another drink for him, please. And I’ll take one of what he’s having too. Please. Thank you.”

As the bartender nodded and got to work making their drinks, the twi’lek dropped his elbow onto the countertop of the bar and dropped his hand into his hand, leaning closer towards Anakin. Anakin’s eyes watched as he threw an orange lek over his shoulder and let his fingers caress it all the way down until his hand dropped to his thigh. “You sure you’re old enough to drink, little Jedi?” he asked, making Anakin’s eyes snap back to his.

“Yes,” Anakin responded, not at all pouting. He was exactly the legal drinking age, thank you very much.

“Aw, no need to get all pouty,” the man tsked, sitting back up once their drinks arrived. He pushed one of them, a small glass of some amber colored liquid, towards Anakin and held up his own glass. “To being old enough,” he toasted, throwing Anakin a wink.

Blushing, Anakin gave another nervous smile and tapped their glasses together. The twi’lek took a long sip of his drink, watching over the rim as Anakin sipped his own. The second it hit his tongue, though, Anakin spit it back into the glass, cringing as he stuck out his tongue.

“Kriff, what is that? That’s terrible! Uck, I feel it sitting in my stomach!” he groused, placing a hand on the spot where he could feel the alcohol burning despite not even swallowing his entire sip. The bartender graciously dropped of a glass of water for him, and he gulped it down without hesitation. When he set the glass back down, he saw the man looking at him with an unimpressed look, his own glass now empty.

“Oh, um, sorry,” Anakin said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I guess it’s a, uh, an acquired taste.”

Lips quirking up again, the twi’lek dismissed him with a wave before leaning on the bar again. “It’s alright, little Jedi. It was cute.”

Anakin went red in the face again and squirmed, and thankfully, based on the persistence of his leer, the man seemed to see it as shyness rather than the discomfort Anakin really felt. He didn’t want to be called cute, especially not by this man.

But he was supposed to at least pretend to want that, so Anakin made to mimic the man, resting his own elbow on the bar top and dropping his head into his hand.

Except, when he did that, he must have put his elbow where one of the glasses left behind some condensation, or maybe the bar top was just slippery in that one exact spot – because when he leaned on it, his elbow slipped right off, making him fall forward and smack his forehead directly on the counter.

“Oh!” the twi’lek laughed, watching with delight as Anakin righted himself and rubbed his aching forehead, face burning up with embarrassment. He had to fight a scowl at being laughed at, and tried to offer, at best, a grimace instead.

“Sorry,” he muttered, though why he felt the need to apologize for accidentally getting hurt, he didn’t know.

“Adorable,” the twi’lek cooed, reaching out to hold and thumb at Anakin’s braid. It made his whole body freeze, having a stranger touch his braid so casually, so confidently without even asking. “So, little Jedi, what brings you down here from your beautiful Temple?”

Passing off the urge to shake himself out of his skin as a shrug, Anakin answered, “Thirsty, I guess.”

“Hmm,” the twi’lek hummed, smirking as he looked at the glass full of Anakin’s unfinished drink. Then, looking back, he said, “Perhaps I could make you something better, something you’d like more. How does that sound?”

It sounded horrible, it sounded terrible, it sounded like the last thing Anakin wanted. But, more importantly, it sounded exactly like his mission objective. “Uh, yea-”

Before he could seal his fate, the bartender placed a tall, skinny glass full of some purple liquid before him. Anakin and the twi’lek blinked at it, then at each other, then at the bartender, who tilted their head to the other end of the bar as explanation.

Turning away from the twi’lek to look over his shoulder, Anakin immediately relaxed, even as he fought a sigh and smile of relief.

Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was here to save him, as always.

Upon catching Anakin’s gaze, Obi-Wan’s lips stretched into an easy smile, and he stood from his barstool and came over to the two of them. Anakin heard the twi’lek grumble something, but he didn’t care. Obi-Wan was here.

“Hello,” Obi-Wan greeted, looking first at the twi’lek and then to Anakin. “I couldn’t help but notice your…dislike of Corellian whiskey.” Anakin blushed, though this time it was not from discomfort. No, it was from knowing Obi-Wan had been looking at him, and from Obi-Wan looking at him now. “So I thought you might like to try Phattro. Perhaps you will like it better.”

Nodding, Anakin made to grab the drink, but a hand suddenly on his wrist stopped him, shocking him out of Obi-Wan’s hypnotic gaze. Both of them turned to look at the twi’lek, his yellow eyes narrowed into slits as he snarled at Obi-Wan.

“We were just leaving, actually,” the man growled, grip on Anakin’s wrist and braid tight.

Obi-Wan hummed behind Anakin, and Anakin felt the man’s fingers brush on his neck before he also took his braid in hand, gripping it above the twi’lek’s hand, closer to Anakin’s head. It made Anakin gasp, having Obi-Wan’s hand on him. One of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s hands on him was enough to let him forget the two the twi’lek had on him.

“I think you are the only one leaving, friend,” Obi-Wan spoke, voice heavy with suggestion. Anakin watched as the twi’lek’s eyes grew wide and unseeing, and he watched as he repeated “I am the only one leaving,” and then watched as he let go of Anakin, stood, and left.

Blinking as he processed what happened, Anakin turned to look at Obi-Wan with a scowl. “You just lost me my target!” he whined, scowling further when Obi-Wan simply smiled.

“Oh hush, young one,” Obi-Wan chided, tugging on his braid before letting it go and taking a seat next to him. “There are knights waiting outside to apprehend him. Worry not and enjoy your drink. I truly do think you’ll enjoy it.”

Pouting, Anakin did as he was told. He might as well, seeing as he still felt gross from interacting with the twi’lek and now felt like he’d failed his mission. He took the first sip and immediately felt better – not just because he was getting alcohol in his system, but because Obi-Wan was right: it was delicious. It was fruity and sour and didn’t even taste like alcohol.

He would blame his blush on the booze, and not the satisfaction at Obi-Wan knowing him so well.

“Good?” Obi-Wan asked, voice and smile incredibly please.

“Very,” Anakin admitted, taking another long sip. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, young one.” Obi-Wan said like it was his favorite thing in the world to say. Maybe it was. He took care of Anakin so much, he had to enjoy it at least a little. “You’ve earned it, after pushing through all of your terrible flirting.”

Turning to Obi-Wan with frown, Anakin gasped. “Terrible? It was working! He was about to take me home!”

“Yes, darling,” Obi-Wan agreed, “but only because he is trying to cash in on the bounty they’ve placed on you.” This last part was said with a sense of…agitation? Anger? Whatever it was, Obi-Wan clearly wasn’t happy about the bounty, if the way his eyes briefly flashed gold was anything to go by. “You are so good at many, many things,” Obi-Wan went on, “but you’re so bad at this. It’s cute, though. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Anakin felt at least four emotions at once. First of all, ‘darling.’ Obi-Wan’s little pet names killed him, how casually and affectionally he used them. Then, him saying Anakin was good. It wasn’t the same as when Master Windu said it; when Obi-Wan said it, heat he tried to ignore pooled in Anakin’s belly. And then saying he’s bad! Anakin tried his best! But then Obi-Wan had said he was cute, and that made heat fill his belly and rush to his cheeks even more than before.

Anakin supposed he could see what Obi-Wan was saying, though. Apparently everyone knew that Anakin couldn’t flirt, so what else could he do but snort and take another drink? “You’re telling me that slamming my head onto the counter wouldn’t do it for you?” he joked, throwing Obi-Wan a smile.

Obi-Wan returned it easily. “Oh it would, dear one, but only because I already like you so much.”

Heat rushed all throughout Anakin tenfold at that, and he faced forward as he downed the rest of his drink, heating up under Obi-Wan’s amused gaze. Anakin hadn’t been worried at all about the bounty hunter successfully killing him tonight. Now, though, he was worried Obi-Wan Kenobi was going to make him blush to death.

When Obi-Wan ordered him another drink, Anakin accepted it happily.

from this prompt list

prompted fic collection on ao3

[in-tua-deep]

I would like to see Hargreaves family time please :3

HMMMM have a bonding scene ;3c

it is unedited though bc i never got around to it lmao

...

The thing they don’t tell you about recovering after escaping from terrible experiences, is that there are some things that you miss about them. You can be glad that you escaped while still mourning what you left behind, even if as far as you are concerned there shouldn’t be anything to mourn in the first place.

Five hated the apocalypse with something heavy and terrible that settled deep in his gut and that tended to be vomited out at the most inopportune times. Or perhaps it wasn’t hate at all, but fear that he experienced. Not that he would ever admit it, mind you.

But there were just some things that just - well. Five had spent over forty years in the apocalypse, sifting through rubble and ruin and scratching out equations on walls that were too broken to offer even the memory of the comfort and safety they’d once upheld. He’d spent forty years clinging to life by his fingernails and re-reading a book that was the only thing he had of his siblings outside of the grave sites he refused to visit,

He didn’t want to go back there. His entire life’s work was getting out of that hellscape and making it so that it never existed in the first place. Five hated and feared the apocalypse, but oh there were some days that he missed it with such a terrible fierceness it rather took his breath away.

He missed it on the days when nothing seemed to go right, when every word that came out of his mouth was wrong. When people looked at him with tightness around their eyes and pinched lips, and his siblings looked at him with pity in their eyes. Poor little Number Five, who couldn’t even accomplish the simplest of social interactions without inevitably fucking it up. Poor little Number Five, who forgot that people weren’t supposed to write on walls or hoard food in their rooms or freak out when someone burned food in a kitchen. 

Adapting to a normal life was a challenge that Five hadn’t ever thought about - because what about his life had ever been normal? He was a child soldier, and then an apocalypse survivor, and then a temporal assassin and then - he wasn’t quite certain what he was now. Was he a child, or an adult? What was he supposed to do with himself now?

He missed that sense of purpose in the apocalypse. He missed Dolores. His one companion for so many years. He’d actually known her for longer than he’d known his own family, and wasn’t that an odd thought?

He missed the spot he’d holed up in before an earthquake had ruined it almost ten years before the Commission had found him. It wasn’t much, but he’d found a handful of records that had miraculously survived and an old record player that had even more miraculously done so. 

He’d admitted to Dolores that he didn’t really know how to dance, not beyond the general flailing and swaying his siblings had used to drag him into when Luther played something from his budding collection.

(Five hadn’t had the heart to go rooting through the remains of the Umbrella Academy for things that could be salvaged, but he wondered about it often. He wondered if he’d find a whole entire collection of records, of if Luther would have lost interest and gotten rid of them all. He wondered if Allison still read through all the trashy magazines she could get her hands on as an adult, if she still tried to balance books on her head and walk regally through the house just because she’d read it once in a princess book or if she’d grown out of that. 

He was back now, and perfectly capable of asking, but he didn’t. He looked at his siblings and saw strangers and missed his childhood even with the shadow of Reginald looming over them all. He loved his siblings as they were now, but oh he ached with the knowledge that the siblings he had known, the ones he had tried so hard to get back to, were lost to time. As good as dead. But then again, perhaps so was he.

He wasn’t the child who left on that fateful November day. He would never be him again.)

He missed Dolores teaching him to dance under the pale moon. Or well, not perhaps dancing so much as gently swaying together with his arms around her, cheek pressed against hers, as he closed his eyes and pretended for a moment that he hadn’t met her in the apocalypse at all. That they’d just bumped into one another in the street and gone on dates where he made her laugh and where he stressed about what to wear - a million inconsequential moments that meant nothing and everything at the same time. He’d wished they’d had a life together instead of the slow drawn out death that was the only thing that existed in the apocalypse.

And perhaps, there were other things he didn’t know he would miss until they were already gone and out of reach. Things he didn’t even think about, until he looked up at night and wondered where all the stars had gone.

It was a silly thing to get upset over, to go tearing through the house like a man possessed to figure out what had happened to the stars.

(Or perhaps it wasn’t so silly after all - the almost-apocalypse he had witnessed destroyed the moon. Was it such a reach to wonder about the stars, as well?)

Light pollution was the simple answer. It wasn’t that the stars were no longer there, just that they were drowned out. Only a few pinpricks bright enough to shine through and be picked up by the human eye. There had been no human lights in the apocalypse, with no one to turn them on or off except one lonely man who had a flashlight with scavenged batteries. Not nearly enough to make any difference.

The stars had been so beautiful. On the clear crisp nights, he’d lay next to Dolores on the ground staring up at the brilliant specks of light and tried his darnest to remember the constellations that once upon a time Luther had enthusiastically outlined for his unattentive brother at the height of his space phase.

(“When we get back,” He’d whispered to Dolores ever so softly, in the way he whispered every wish that only seemed appropriate to utter out loud under the night sky, “I’m going to get Luther to tell me them again, and I’ll actually listen this time. I won’t tell him to shut up, or that stars aren’t important. I’ll listen.”

He’d never been very good at listening, even as a child. But outside of a seven day deadline - the apocalypse had taught him patience. It was something the Commission found to be a boon as well - there was nothing more deadly than a very patient predator on the hunt, after all.)

Klaus had told him that the apocalypse was an addiction, and Five had done his best to quit cold turkey. 

He’d returned Dolores to her store, mourning what could never be between them. In darker moments, he wondered if she would have ever actually chosen him - in that imaginary world where they met on a crowded street by happenstance. They’d been forced together at the end of the world, and even though he loved her he wondered about things like choice and happiness and shared trauma. Them breaking up was the right thing to do, he knew that, he just hadn’t realized quite how much it would hurt.

So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Five sought comfort where he could. That he stole a record from Luther’s collection (it had gotten bigger, a passion pursued into adulthood which was one question answered) that he must have played dozens of times on that record player in their little sanctuary at the end of the world. That he slept on the floor instead of the bed that was far too soft in so many ways.

That he crept up to the roof and lay on his back and stared at the stars that were visible, remembering a sky filled with diamonds and a cool hand in his own and whispered hopes and dreams and secrets from one terribly lonely boy to the uncaring infinity of the cosmos.

And maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that it wasn’t long until he was discovered up there, gazing at the sky with such careful mourning carved across his face.

(He hated and feared the apocalypse, but he mourned it as well. It had raised him, in the harsh and terrible way that was all the apocalypse knew how to do. He’d been raised by Reginald Hargreeves and forged in bruises and thoughtless brutality, and then delivered into the arms of something else that didn’t care for him either. 

He grew into a boy with careless cruelty and harsh criticisms and a love for his siblings that burned hotter and longer than any fire the apocalypse could produce. He grew into a man, or perhaps just something man-shaped, in starvation and desperation and terrible all-consuming loneliness.

Reginald had been fond of telling them, “You will learn through suffering.” It was something trotted out whenever the children were forced to skip meals or run up and down stairs until their insides twisted and they retched on the floor barely held up by burning thighs and weak knees. It was being tossed behind locked doors until they promised their unrelenting obedience to a man who had done nothing to deserve it.

If suffering was a teacher, then surely Five was one of the wisest people alive.)

“What are you doing up here?” Luther asks, too loud in the stillness of the night. Five doesn’t begrudge him it though, it wasn’t every day one was confronted by their teenage shaped brother laying listlessly on the roof at hours when everybody should be tucked away in bed.

“What are you doing up here?” Five parrots back, melancholy mood sharpening the edge of his words into something more pointed than he perhaps meant them to be.

Luther shuffles, looking awkward in his own skin as he so often does. It’s enough to make Five soften, just ever so slightly. After all, Luther isn’t exactly the only member of the house who feels alien in their own body. 

Perhaps it’s cruel to take comfort in his brother’s discomfort. But perhaps Five is cruel. It isn’t the worst thing he’s been called in his life.

(No one speaks about the dinner where Five and Diego had been sniping at one another and pushing each other’s buttons where Diego had brought up Five abandoning the family. That had been his exact word - abandoning. Five had frozen and Diego had pressed on, snarling about Five not getting an opinion about Reginald because he’d ditched so early and left the rest of them to Dad’s tender mercies. He’d said far more, but the rest of that dinner was a blur of sound and colors for Five.

Diego had apologized over the incident and then proceeded to not look Five in the eye for the next week. The whole family were so good at picking at one another’s weak spots and hitting them hard and fast. It was practically second nature. They knew which points to leave alone when it came down to it for each other, but not for Five. Not yet.

They didn’t know him anymore. It was a work in progress navigating their respective minefields of trauma in the meantime.)

“I asked you first.” Luther says, childish statement bringing Five out of his own thoughts. At the end of the day, they are brothers.

And perhaps it is that brotherly spirit that prompts Five’s lips to quirk as he offers the equally childish response of: “I asked you second.”

Luther scowls, but he’s fully aware of exactly how stubborn Five could be. That’s Five, built out of spite and pettiness, who never knew how to just lay down and give up. But if he’d been any less himself, they would never be there that night on the roof irritating one another. The thought fills Five up with something that could almost be called fondness.

Luther crosses his arms, and looks away. “I like looking at the stars.” He admits haltingly, and it makes Five sit up from where he was still sprawled on the ground. “I just - on the moon - I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Five cuts in with a fierceness that surprises them both. Five doesn’t look at Luther, just the sky. “There’s not as many stars, here. Not that you can see. It’s supposed to look different, but what’s left is still comforting because the sky is a constant. Because the stars don’t really change, even when the rest of the world does.”

“Yeah.” Luther sounds surprised at Five’s insight. There’s a moment of hesitation before Luther is gently lowering himself down to sit on the roof a few feet away from where Five is. When Five dares to sneak a glance, Luther’s eyes are trained on the sky with an almost wistful look on his face.

“I know I’m not supposed to miss it,” Luther begins, and the thought sounds so much like what Five was just pondering that he can’t help but startle. Thankfully, Luther doesn’t see. “But - it was always my dream, you know? To go up there, into space. I know it was just a rejection now, that Dad didn’t want me around so he wouldn’t have to face his failure.” Luther’s face twisted as he spat out the last word. He’d taken it hard, learning that he was just as insignificant in the grand scheme of their father’s plans as the rest of them.

“But.” Luther continues, his face smoothing out, “It was still four years of my life. I had a routine. It was lonely, but god Five. The weightless feeling? The stars? The sunrises? There’s nothing quite like it.”

There’s a silence between them for a moment that Five decides to break. Because he’s trying, he really is.

“Sometimes,” Five says, so softly that Luther actually shifts closer to hear him, “Sometimes the apocalypse was beautiful. A decade or so in, when the plants just tentatively started realizing it was safe to grow again, and the weeds came back first. Just spots of green and bright yellow dotted through the cracks and crevices.”

(Five had spent many springs of his life wandering through the rubble, leaning down to pick dandelions to admire before he ate them. Even when he was terribly hungry, he’d never eaten all of them - always leaving some to mature and bring more the next year. Picking them up and blowing softly and remembering the first time he’d seen one - on a mission where Ben had quietly and excitedly informed them that they had to blow on it and make a wish. That he’d read about it in a book.

Five had made the same wish for forty some years. He wasn’t sure what he’d wish for now, now that it had come true.)

“And when the skies were clear, at night - the stars were beautiful.” Five admitted, Luther made a sound but Five ignored it to carry on because if he didn’t speak his mind now he might never. “There were so many Lu, way more than we ever saw out our bedroom windows. And on nights where the moon was just a sliver, there were even more. We’d lay out there for hours.”

Luther coughs. Five looks over and isn’t quite sure why there’s a guilty look on his brother’s face. “’We’ would uh, be you and uh, Dolores, right?” 

Ah, that would explain it. Luther always got that look when Five brought up Dolores, no doubt thinking about when he’d held her out of a window as leverage to prevent Five from killing someone. Luther hadn’t known then, Five thinks, about exactly how much Dolores meant to him. He’d known she was important, but hadn’t known why. He hadn’t asked.

There’s nothing Five can do but nod though, in response to the question. “Yeah. She likes the stars, she’s always loved things that glitter.” It was why she loved sequins so much, and Five was secure enough to admit that he liked them as well. 

There’s an awkward silence between them now, one that Five can’t help but try and break. “I tried to remember the constellations.” He blurts out, grasping at the connection the two of them had shared before it slips between his fingers and results in them quietly going to their rooms and forgetting this conversation ever happened.

He can’t look at Luther, not as he admits this. So he doesn’t, he turns his gaze upwards to the pinpricks of light. “Do you remember, when we were eight and Mom gave you that book of constellations? And you wouldn’t shut up about it for like, a whole month? You kept waking all of us up and dragging us to the roof and you said we had to listen to you because you were Number One?”

Luther surprises Five just a little by laughing, “Yeah! Yeah I do remember that. Diego threatened to throw me off the roof if I ever woke him up in the middle of the night again after the fourth time and I’m pretty sure Klaus learned morse code to complain about me to Ben.”

Five grins, “Nah, don’t flatter yourself. He learned morse code with Ben to gossip at dinner. Your little nighttime shows were just something else he could yell about in front of Dad without anyone the wiser.”

“Of course he did.” Luther just sounds exasperated at their most colorful sibling’s antics, which is a big improvement on how he would have felt about it when they were actually eight. “To be honest, I didn’t think any of you actually listened to what I was saying at the time. I’m surprised you remembered.”

Five shuffles, not exactly wanting to admit he doesn’t remember most of the content but not quite willing to lie to his brother either. “I only remembered bits and pieces. Some names, other shapes. Those three stars that make up that one dude’s belt or something.”

“You didn’t just find some astronomy book?” Luther asks, looking puzzled. He doesn’t look offended at least, that Five didn’t pay that much attention during those lectures so many years ago. To be fair, he’s had plenty of time to come to terms with the idea.

“It felt disloyal.” Five admits after a heartbeat, only half grudgingly. He isn’t exactly the king of heart to hearts, but there is something about Luther that seems to encourage them in him. Even during the stress of the days preceding the apocalypse weighing on him, it had been Luther who Five had told about finding their bodies and who Five had told not to waste his life.

Maybe it was the certain level of kinship between them, both of them trapped in bodies that they did not choose and did not want. Both of them left alone for years on end, having to relearn how to interact with the general populace. Luther was loyal where Five was rebellious, but they had enough common ground between them to be significant.

“Disloyal?” Luther’s tone isn’t quite questionioning, just offering a way for Five to continue his thought where he’d trailed off. 

Five’s stomach squirms at the blatant emotion, but it would have to try a lot harder than that to stop him after he’d gotten used to the hollow aching pain of starvation. “I didn’t want to learn the constellations from a book.” He says, and it’s easier to admit to hopes and wishes in the dark with the stars above him. It’s familiar. It’s not Dolores next to him, but Luther isn’t half bad company when he’s by himself. “I wanted to learn them from you, except you weren’t around to ask anymore.”

Now that he’s out of that hellscape, he can half admit to himself that not allowing himself to pick up an astronomy book might have been him giving himself even more incentive to go back and fix things. Not that he needed it but - half of it might have also been a sort of punishment for abandoning his family to whatever fate left them buried in rubble and dead at the end of the world as well. Never let it be said that any of Five’s coping mechanisms were actually healthy.

There’s a silence where Luther mulls that over, before he opens his mouth with a soft expression, “I’m around now.”

It’s an offer and a question rolled into one. It’s not Luther immediately launching into a lecture assuming that’s what Five wants or needs at the moment, it’s him asking, which is an improvement all in itself. If Five was too raw tonight, he would accept that without a question and they could look at the sky in silence together until the dawn came.

The ball is in Five’s court.

“What - what’s the name of the dude with the belt?” Five asks, hesitant and careful and feeling as brittle as the porcelain vases that Reginald decorated the halls with.

Luther’s answering smile is bright and tender enough to hurt.

“His name’s Orion...” Luther explains, and Five closes his eyes and lets Luther’s voice wash over him. When he opens them, it seems like the stars twinkle just a tiny bit brighter than before.

Or that might just be his imagination.

[kookiesjoonies]

risk it — jjk | four.

risk it | four: pretend.

a/n: i think it’s safe to say that yn, jk, and yoongi are all a mess, right? let me know your thoughts, loves! xo

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.7k

↠ warnings: some fluff if you squint LOL, angst so much angst, explicit language, jealousy, being drunk, light violence, spitting (but in a non sexual way lmao)

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Nearly ten minutes. 

That’s how long you’d been arguing with Jungkook at the bottom of your stairs. 

You were the world’s most stubborn person, and most (if not all) of your friends would agree with that statement. And you were even worse when you were drunk. 

“For the thousandth time,” you slurred your words together as you spoke, leaning against your ex boyfriend’s side for support as you stood, “I can walk up the damn stairs by myself. You don’t have to carry me. I’m not a baby.” 

He rolled his eyes at you— hard. If he had a dollar for every time you’d caused him to roll his eyes since you’d gotten into his car earlier, he was sure he’d be a millionaire by now. 

“If you can stand up on your own without holding onto my arm, I’ll believe you.” 

And now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Only, when you did, it made your vision fuzzier than it already was. 

“Well if you’d stop spinning the room, maybe I fucking could.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and he dragged his free hand down his face. 

“You know what—“ You were being whisked off of the ground before you could even register what was happening. 

Jungkook had your body thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he treaded up the stairs, and of course you were pounding your fists against his back like a child. 

“Put me down!” You insisted, to which he decided to happily oblige once he’d successfully carried you into your bedroom at the end of the hallway. 

“Absolutely.” He gently tossed you onto your queen sized bed, and you let out an overly dramatic huff as your back hit the mattress. 

“Not what I meant.” You mumbled.

You laid back and rested an arm over your eyes after you’d closed them, but you still felt like you were moving in circles. Nausea quickly set in and you groaned, clutching your stomach with your other hand. 

“Fuck you, this is all your fault.” You snapped at the man that was standing at the foot of your bed, staring at you with a look of both annoyance and concern. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook’s voice was laced with sarcasm, “how is this my fault, exactly?” 

“Because if you’d have just shown up tonight, I wouldn’t have tried to drink my feelings away,” you barked out a harsh laugh, a pitiful sound that made Jungkook’s heart drop to the pit of his stomach, “feelings that I shouldn’t even fucking have.” 

He let out a low sigh. Of course he knew your feelings for him were still there, or maybe he at least secretly hoped that they would be. Because after all, his feelings for yours never seemed to go away. No matter how hard he tried to forget you and forget how much love he had for you, it never worked. 

“Of course,” you scoffed, “just stand there all silent and brooding. It’s what you do best.” 

The feeling of being giggly and buzzed was long gone, now you were just an insane amount of nauseous and wanted nothing more than to sleep this state of drunkenness off. You were sad, and you were fighting an internal battle. 

The rational side of you kept screaming for you to tell Jungkook to leave, and you knew that he would without question. Which pissed you off to no end. As badly as you didn’t want to admit it, you wanted him to refuse to leave. You wanted him to fight to stay with you tonight. Hell, you just wanted him to fight for you. 

So, instead of asking him to leave, you asked him a different question instead. 

“Can you find me some clothes to sleep in? I can’t sleep in a mini dress, and if I stand up I’m going to fall, vomit, or both.” 

“Yeah, shorts and a T-shirt okay?” 

You nodded, finally feeling like you’d come back down to earth enough to remove your arm from your face and open up your eyes. 

Jungkook made the short walk from your bed to your dresser, and you couldn’t help but to admire him as he did so. 

He looked good— so good, and you fucking hated it. His hair was longer, just the way you’d always liked it. It was messy from sleep, which somehow made him even more attractive. He’d shown up at the club wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie to match, and that damn leather jacket he’d had for years. And in typical Jungkook fashion, he’d worn combat boots to top it all off. He looked like a fucking dream. And maybe it was the alcohol— no, it was definitely the alcohol, you were sure of it, but you desperately wanted to jump his bones. 

As he made his way back over to you, with your newfound sleep attire draped over his arm, a wave of boldness hit you. And you blurted out the question before you could stop yourself. 

“So, you wanna fuck?” 

You don’t know what you were expecting him to say, but you definitely weren’t expecting to hear the sad sounding sigh that made its way out of his mouth. 

“You’re drunk.” He stated the obvious, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you sat up on your bed. 

“So?” 

“So,” he emphasized as he handed the clothes off to you, “I’m not fucking you while you’re drunk.” 

You scoffed, “But I’m asking you to. It’s not like you’re taking advantage of me or anything.” 

“You know me better than that. Now please, just get some sleep.” 

Of course he wanted to. It’d been over two years since he’d last been inside of you, and if you were sober, his answer probably would have been much different. Sure, he’d had hookups, but none of them could compare to how you made him feel. Not even close. 

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up on your knees to tug off your dress. 

As you did, Jungkook turned around and faced away from you to give you your privacy. 

And of course, you thought he was being ridiculous. 

“Jungkook, you’ve seen me in my underwear before.” 

“I know, but it’s different now.” 

Your eyes narrowed at the back of his head as you tossed the dress onto the floor and replaced it with the old T-shirt. 

“Wouldn’t have to be different if you weren’t so stupid.” You quietly mumbled, pulling the pair of plaid cotton shorts up your legs. 

“Huh?” he prompted, “Couldn’t hear what you said.”

“Nothing,” you sighed, “are you going to hold me, or what?” 

Before Jungkook could respond, your bedroom door was being swung open by a very heated Min Yoongi. 

“Get the fuck out.” He spoke through gritted teeth as he took two steps closer to Jungkook, pointing toward the door with his index finger. 

You watched the scene in front of you unfold as Jungkook, too, took two steps forward— the two of them starting to get dangerously close to one another. 

“If Y/n wants me to leave, I will. But if she doesn’t, I’m not fucking going anywhere.” 

Yoongi clenched his fist at his side, staring daggers through the taller man in front of him. He took one swift stride forward, resulting in the two of them being toe to toe. 

“I swear to God, Jungkook. I’ll throw your ass out of this apartment if you don’t leave in the next sixty seconds. You’ve hurt her enough. I’ll be damned if you’re going to do it again!” 

Jungkook was seething, you could tell by the way he was clenching his jaw. This was about to get ugly, and if you didn’t put a stop to it you were sure to be wiping blood off of the floor and picking up their teeth. 

When you said you’d wanted him to fight for you, you didn’t mean it literally.

“Like I said on the phone, I’d like to see you fucking try you piece of shit!” 

It took a lot to make Jungkook this angry. But somehow— for a reason unknown to you, Yoongi always seemed to push all of the right (wrong?) buttons to piss him off. All Jungkook could see was red, and he was ten seconds or less away from putting your best friend through a wall. You could tell by the way his knuckles were turning white as he formed his tattooed hands into fists. Yeah, it was definitely time for you to step in. 

As you were scrambling off of your bed, still unbalanced from your alcohol induced high, you heard Yoongi spew out a string of insults— followed by a harsh spitting sound. When you looked up, you saw Jungkook wiping saliva off of his cheek with the back of his hand. And you knew it was too late. 

“Jungkook, don’t do it!” You shouted, trying to get to him before he could make a move. 

But you weren’t quick enough. Jungkook had his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders in an instant, shoving him backwards and slamming him into the wall so hard that you were sure there’d be a Yoongi shaped hole in it. 

Jungkook balled his right hand up into a tight fist, ready to swing and forcefully connect it to Yoongi’s jaw. Fortunately, you stood in between them before he could do so, causing him to halt his actions abruptly. 

“Don’t,” you pleaded, the current situation resulting in you slowly sobering up, “please.” 

Your hands found their way onto the sides of his face, your thumbs grazing along the tops of his cheeks. To your surprise, he leaned into your touch and allowed himself to focus only on the way you were rubbing his skin. He hadn’t touched you, or been touched by you, in so long that he was going to take all he could get. 

Yoongi stood up straight behind you, watching the way you seemed to handle Jungkook with such care. It broke his heart to know that you’d never be like that with him. Especially since he was one hundred percent certain he could treat you better than Jungkook (or anyone, for that matter) ever could. You deserved the world, and he wouldn’t hesitate to give it to you. Jungkook didn’t deserve you. He was the dumbest human alive for refusing to marry you. Whereas Yoongi— well, he’d marry you any time, any place, any day of the week without hesitation. 

Maybe if he wasn’t such a chicken, he would’ve confessed his feelings to you by now. Or maybe he would’ve if he wasn’t already certain that his feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. 

“Do you want him to stay?” Yoongi questioned, despite knowing the answer. 

As much as he loved you, he also respected you. And he also knew that you were an adult and free to make your own decisions, even if he thought they were the wrong ones. He couldn’t stop you from getting hurt again. But he’d be there to hold you while you cried afterwards, and to pick up your broken pieces if you needed him to. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking back at your friend as you rolled your shoulders into a shrug, “I do.” 

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.” 

He shot Jungkook a death glare before glancing at you, and you felt like you could crumble and fall to the ground from the amount of disappointment you saw in his eyes. 

“Yoongs, I—“ The loud slam of the wooden door cut you off, and your lower lip began to quiver. This was all too much, too fast. Alcohol, sleep deprivation, and emotions didn’t seem to mix well. 

At the sight of your trembling lip, Jungkook brought his hand upward to run his thumb along it in an attempt to soothe you and provide you with some form of comfort. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft as he spoke, and you shot him a questioning look. 

“For?” 

“For a lot of things.” He admitted, and you simply gave him a nod. 

“I know. Doesn’t change anything, though.” 

He sighed, “I know.” 

You grabbed hold of his hand with your own, taking just a few seconds to admire the way that your hand seemed to mold perfectly into his— like it was made for him to grasp. He let you lead him to your bed, kicking off his boots and stripping himself of his jacket before lying down beside you. 

“I miss you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and you didn’t dare face him. 

He closed his eyes, and you could hear him intake a deep breath.

“I’m right here.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, willing the tears that were begging to overflow to stay back. 

“Would it kill you to say that you miss me too?” Despite your efforts to hide your true feelings, your voice cracked and gave you away, “Unless you don’t miss me, then I guess that would make sense.” 

“Look at me.” He ordered, but you shook your head. 

“No.” 

Jungkook rolled over onto his side, scooting closer to close the gap in between your bodies. You could feel the warmth from him beside you, and you could smell his signature warm, inviting cologne that never failed to put you in a trance. 

“You think I don’t miss you?” The question was clearly rhetorical, seeing as how he continued to ramble on, “I miss you so bad that it hurts, it physically hurts. Every bone in my body aches from how badly I miss you.” 

That’s all it took for the tears to finally spill over and onto your cheeks, and you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were crying. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his own eyes welling up with water, “I didn’t mean to make you cry, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. Maybe I should just leave—“ 

“Go ahead!” You shouted, your tears coming out quicker and stronger now, “leaving is what you do best!”

“I didn’t leave you. You broke up with me.” He didn’t yell. In fact, he spoke calmly. It was rare for him to raise his voice at you, and you could count how many times he’d done so on only one hand. It didn’t matter how badly you seemed to piss him off, or how loud you got with him, he couldn’t bring himself to scream at you. 

“What other fucking choice did I have, Jungkook?” You finally looked at him, and when you did his heart shattered at the pain he saw in your eyes. 

“You deserve better than me. You deserve someone who can give you—“ 

“Everything that you can’t,” you finished his sentence for him with a bite to your voice, “yeah, I’ve heard that before.” 

It was silent for what felt like an eternity. When in reality, it was only about five minutes. And it was Jungkook who finally broke the obvious tension in the air. 

“Let me hold you.” 

You didn’t say anything, only turned your back to him to allow him to spoon you from behind. His strong arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled your body against his chest, using his free hand to card his fingers through your long hair. 

You melted into his touch, humming as he began to dig his fingernails into your scalp to massage it. 

“Can we just… pretend that everything’s okay between us?” you asked, “For tonight, and then tomorrow we can go back to how it was.” 

He pressed his lips to the back of your head and allowed them to linger there as he nodded, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. 

“Yeah, bug. We can.” 

Your heart swelled at the nickname, short for lovebug, that he’d given you so many years ago, and you cracked the saddest smile you’d ever mustered up in your life. 

“Kook?” You allowed your arm to rest over his, and he took the lead in intertwining your fingers. 

“Hmm?” 

“Did you… cover up my name? The tattoo of it on your chest, I mean.” 

“No,” he didn’t hesitate, “and I have no desire to. Do you regret letting me tattoo you?”

You shook your head, running your thumb along the back of his hand, “No.” 

“You need to go to sleep.” 

“I know,” your eyelids were already beginning to droop, “sing to me?” 

“Of course.” 

⇠ masterlist ⇢

a/n: if you’d like to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! thanks for reading!

tag list: @ppersonna @taetaewonderland @preciouschimine @agaassi @honeyoongles @jinhitwhore @alterlovess @dontaskshhhhh @bonobonoya2001 @fan-ati–c @diorhobii @athenakyle @nerdycookiemonster-1222 @ashleyjoyx @sadgalsadpal @shaktibhardwaj @jeonsbananamilk @bat-shark-repellant @jkhey97 @sterynlis @aizuwusho @krystle1990 @crazylittlemay @betysotelo18 @cypheruby @deadleaves278 @awesomekpoptrashblogposts @styxdagger @kookoo-kachoo @jungkooksseuphoria @imluckybitches @ayasanuwu @sugaminh @kisskoos @tae165 @themyscirarey @janetgordyx3 @mini-coop25 @out-of-jams @sugalarity @yoongissugarmommy @missseoulite @amoreguk @meesheru @namugguk @guksweet @55west81st @barbikatherine @ilyeuphoria @jeon-joker

if you aren’t tagged, it’s because tumblr won’t let me tag certain people for some reason. so sorry! :(

[scraregenrecs]

Rec Roundup - May 2021

Hello friends! It’s June! (i know, i know, wtf, right?) Which means that we have a nice long list of fics from May that we know you all will love. There’s a little bit of everything. Everyone can find something they enjoy on this smorgasbord of rare ships and gen!

So, look through the list and buckle in for some AMAZING fic!

--

Aeration by @middyblue, Alexis & David, rated T, 4495 words

Summary: Isn’t her whole life proof that she can handle it? However shitty life gets, she puts one heel in front of the other and keeps walking, keeps going to the next adventure, the next thrill, because it’s when you stop that it catches up to you; it’s when you stop and there’s no one there that you start disappearing.

The night before she leaves Schitt's Creek, Alexis gets a text from Sebastien.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: This is a stunning fic that takes an unflinching look at the people that Alexis and David used to be, and the people they've become. I haven't read an Alexis character study that touched me quite so deeply. Check the tags!

and i’ve known you for a long time by @hullomoon, Stevie/Twyla, rated Gen, 574 words

Summary: While moving in together, Twyla discovers something from their childhood

Rec [written by samwhambam]: I love this little fic for multiple reasons! Stevie! Twyla! MOVING IN TOGETHER! REDISCOVERING SHARED MEMORIES. I love it all. Give it to me. It’s a sweet little slice of life and hullomoon killed it. Again. Per usual.

Every Night Has Its Dawn by @lilythesilly, Stevie/Ruth, rated G, 633 words

Summary: Everytime Ruth takes her to a new place, whether it’s a karaoke bar or a concert in the park or a cheesy tourist trap, or to try her favorite foods (sushi is so far a yes, the bistec Ruth made in her kitchen this afternoon is so far a yes, kimchi is so far a no) she watches Stevie with a bright smile, like she’s anticipating whatever her reaction is, good or bad.

Stevie never wants to stop chasing that smile. She’ll follow Ruth to a million different places in a million different cities if it means she gets to see that smile over and over again.

--

Ruth + Stevie + Karaoke

Rec [written by doingthemost]: This is so pitch perfect, I could see it easily unfolding on my screen. I love the way you instantly get to understand the dynamics of their relationship through Stevie's amusing POV. This is a must-read for anyone curious about the ship!

The Future Is This Moment by floosilver8, Jake/David, rated E, 1774 words

Summary: Mostly canon compliant, David's POV for just before the cold open of S03E01 Opening Night

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: I’m such a sucker for David/Jake and this is super hot! I also love the tense shift at the end there.

High and Warm by lonelygrocerystore, Stevie/Twyla, rated T, 567 words

Summary: A (very stoned) Stevie and Twyla share a moment at Mutt's barn party and Stevie has feelings.

Rec [written by samwhambam]: Give me ALL the Stevie and Twyla making out while stoned at Mutt’s barm party. It is SUCH an underrated moment in the show. They both looked fantastic and it’s time we all really appreciated it. This fic is a combination of stoned making out and queer feelings and I really enjoyed it. So much. Highly recommend it.

In her brown eyes (the ones she gave to me) by @sarahlevys, Stevie/Ruth, rated G, 600 words

Summary: "I'm dating someone. Her name is Stevie."

Her mother tsks under her breath. "Stevie, ha? Sounds like a boy's name."

A laugh escapes Ruth despite her nerves. "Well – yes. I guess so."

Ruth tells her mother about her new relationship.

Rec [written by samwhambam]: This fic gave me mom feels. 😂 I read this and was really rooting for Ruth and I was so happy that her mom was receptive to meeting Stevie. It really breathes life into a character that we got limited screen time from. It’s a nice little treat!

Let’s all be with us by [orphaned account], Stevie/Albany/Jake, rated M, 1556 words

Summary: Jake and Stevie are at Café Tropical for their weekly milkshake the night of Jocelyn's baby sprinkle. After Albany overhears Klair saying breaking news: we still fucking hate her in regards to her at The Wobbly Elm, she flees back to where they'd indulged in lunch earlier that day, meeting the two of them in the process.

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: The thing I love most about fanfic is when I read something that makes me consider a character in a new way — or, honestly, makes me consider them full stop, which is something I’ve never really done with Albany. But this fic fleshes her out and gives her a damn good day.

my dress on the floor by @5ambreakdown, Stevie/Twyla, rated T, 4332 words

Summary: David smiles and squeezes his hand. “You’re cute.”

Before Patrick can respond any sort of way to that, he hears the door open behind them and turns to see Stevie enter, her eyes widening and mouth opening slightly. He hears her whisper, “Oh shit,” as she takes in Twyla behind the counter.

Huh.

----

are stevie and twyla together? will patrick ever understand fashion? did i just vomit a bunch of words onto the page and didn't double check to make sure it was coherent? all these and more just might be answered!

Rec [written by samwhambam]: This is such a fun fic!! It’s told from Patrick’s POV as he slowly starts to notice some uhhhhh things between Stevie and Twyla. I love the Stevie and Twyla of it and I love David and Patrick being the classic best friends and getting super into it. I was smiling the entire time. It’s such a good fic and I kept getting distracted while writing this review because I keep reading the fic instead lmao.

rise and spin / over and over again by @anniemurphys, Alexis/Twyla, rated T, 2384 words

Summary: The apartment is dark when Alexis gets home, curtains drawn, air heavy. She wants to give in to the darkness, to curl up in it – but she also wants to pull her wife out.

Seven moments of grief, and one moment of hope.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: Please mind the tags! That said, if this is something you're comfortable reading, you'll find a devastating, breathtaking, captivating story in so few words. This is a fic that reminds me of how powerful fandom can be, and how we can often find solace and empathy in telling stories through these characters we love.

save it from the funny tricks of time by @hullomoon, David & Moira, rated G, 1114 words

Summary: While David helps her pack up her wigs, Moira reflects on their relationship.

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: David and Moira’s relationship is one that always fascinates me, and the parallel between the opening of the first episode of the show and this fic is so brilliantly done.

Sweaters In the Dead of Summer by @kindofspecificstore, Heather/Rachel, rated T, 2195 words

Summary: Rachel desperately wants to bury herself in the covers and never come out again. The lights were off last night- Heather didn’t have to see the patchwork that makes up her back and shoulders, the speckling of white and pink dots in varying stages of healing scars. She doesn’t like it. She’s not proud of it. But Rachel doesn’t really know how to fix it either. It’s not embarrassing, per se, just awkward to explain.

You know that feeling when you want to pop a zit?

Like that, but all the time. Except it’s all you think about. And you can’t control it.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: Yay, more Heather/Rachel! Please mind the tags with this one, but with that out of the way, this is a touching look at their relationship (every relationship in this fic, in addition to the Heather/Rachel, is treated so well!) and the importance of being seen and cared for.

To the end of reckoning by @dinnfameron, Patrick & Ronnie, rated T, 1308 words

Summary: He should get David a coffee. He could deliver it to the motel, see how he’s doing. His arm is raised halfway to flag Twyla down when he catches himself. David doesn’t want to see him right now. He may never want to see Patrick ever again. The thought makes him sick.

“Brewer.” Patrick turns at the sound of his name. There aren’t many people in this town who call him that, and sure enough, there’s Ronnie Lee at a table near the front. He’d missed her, somehow.

“You look like shit,” she says.

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: I love Patrick, I love Ronnie, I love anything and everything that explores the contentious relationship between the two of them. I love post-barbecue angst. Basically I love every single thing about this.

you make everything good by @rosedavid, Alexis/Twyla, rated G, 835 words

Summary: “Stop being grumpy, it’s lame."

Twyla has to go and visit her gaggle of cousins for two weeks, and Alexis is pouty about her girlfriend leaving for so long.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: This is an adorable little slice-of-life type of fic with some fun banter and some true-to-the-show Twyla moments! It's cute and funny and exactly what I love about the ship.

-

Happy reading, friends!

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #457

“blue are the words i say and what i think  /  blue are the feelings that live inside of me”

Do you buy your lingerie at Victoria’s Secret? No. That shit is so overpriced and not for my size group. Would you ever use an online dating service? I never would again. Are you good at multitasking? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Have you ever eaten Frosted Mini Wheats? Ugh, those are so gross. What does your bikini look like? You think THIS bitch wears a bikini??????????????????????? Does age really matter in a relationship? To an extent, yes. How much does the last person you kissed mean to you? I honestly don't even know if I'd be here without her. Almost like magic, Sara popped back into my life right after I returned home from the hospital following my suicide attempt. She helped make recovery possible as a solid source of support. Do you use lotion? Not NEARLY enough. My skin is so dry; I need to. Do you believe in teenage love? I experienced it deeply and thoroughly, so yes. Have you ever sat on the roof of your house? No. Do you like Sublime? I like that one popular one of theirs. "Santaria" or whatever it's called? What’s your favorite movie genre? Paranormal horror, especially the "found footage" type. It's creepy to imagine it being actually real. Is there a celebrity that you’d be willing to have a one night stand with? If he was single? I know in my gut I would lmaooooo Do you want to live in your current town the rest of your life? OH MY GOD PLEASE NO If you found out today your best friend was gay what would you do? She's demisexual, so. She can like anybody. If you could get a pet for free today-what kind/what name? A tegu, because it wouldn't need an enclosure that I don't have. I'd let it free roam. God, I can only imagine Roman's reaction. How many people have you slept with? If you mean what I think you do by "slept," one. Do you ever wish you had a family business to become a part of? Not really. What’s the most gruesome way you could come up with to kill someone? Hunny, have you seen my dark RP????? The world best be glad I'm a pacifist lmfao Do you think anyone deserves to die that way? I don't believe in torture, so no. If you had to fight for survival, what would your weapon of choice be? A gun, I guess? I'd want something with range and that's quick. I wanted to say a bow and arrow, but preparing another arrow after shooting once could really cost you your life. Where did you buy your favorite pair of jeans? I don't wear jeans anymore. Do you have a large dog? We don't have a dog, period. If not, are you afraid of them? No, I love big 'ole puppos!!!!! I just don't wanna own a dog myself. Are you good at playing darts? Holy fuck no, I have NO hand-eye coordination. I once stabbed the guy at a balloon popping booth thing with a dart in the arm, if that tells you anything, ooooooooooof. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? YESSSSSSSSS omg Do your parents know that/if you smoke? They know that I don’t. Have you ever been under a blacklight? Omg so in elementary school, we did this thing once where we all washed our hands as best we could and then put them under some sort of light (maybe a blacklight, idk???) to see JUST how resilient germs are. You gotta scrub the fuck out ya hands, people. How many pounds do you want to lose? I'd rather not share a number, but a lot. What’s your favorite natural phenomenon? The Northern Lights. Do you snore? Very surprisingly for someone with sleep apnea like mine, I actually don't. How many people do you know with the same first name as you? Off the very top of my head, one, but it's spelled differently. I KNOW I know of a shitload more Brittanys, though. Is it possible you could be pregnant? Well, I haven't been intimate with a man in years and just finished my period, so like- Could you go a day without texting? I go most days without texting. Do you have a step-parent? My dad is remarried, so yes. If so, do you get along with them? She's EXTREMELY Christian, so her beliefs wildly disagree with mine, but I keep my mouth shut a lot just to keep the peace. She IS a very sweet woman, nevertheless, and am glad she and my dad are so happy together. Does your current/last job require that you wear a uniform? My last job (which lasted not even two hours lol) did. When will your driver’s license expire? My permit has been expired for like... two years. Do you live in an apartment? No. If the last person you kissed proposed to you what would you say? That's too wild a concept to even imagine. I'd probably ask if she was okay lmao. Would you ever get back with one of your exes? Weeeelp, I want to get back together with Girt. Pretty badly. Write a foreign word, and what it means: "Schadenfreude" is a German term that essentially means secondhand embarrassment, but it doesn't have a perfect translation. Is there an ex you think about everyday? Inevitably. That's PTSD, my friends. Who is the last person that you said I love you to, besides family members? Sara. What's the worst thing you have ever said to anyone? Something along the lines of "no one could ever love you like I do." It boils my blood just typing that; I considered even deleting this question. That quote right there is fucking manipulation, even IF I thoroughly believed it. Who was the last person to comment one of your pictures? I don't feel like looking. Do you tend to go for older or younger when looking for someone to date? It's weird, I'm into slightly older-than-me guys, but probably girls who are barely a bit younger than me. Have you ever been used? I don't think so. Have you ever not been able to get someone out of your head? Like I've said in plenty of surveys: Jason is probably a permanent fixture. But also as of the past two days, Girt's been living up there. I went from "hmmm I just don't know how I feel" to "FUCK I want to talk to him about how stupidly into him I am right this fucking INSTANT" pretty goddamn fast. It kinda scares me just because of how extreme my feelings are. Again. That's only ever gotten me hurt. Buuuut let's not get into that. Have you ever got caught cheating on a test? No, because I've never tried to. Will your next kiss be a mistake? I hope it won't be. But it's not like I know the future. Have you ever worn an oxygen mask? Actually yes, when I was young and thought I was having an asthma attack or something. Mom had one for her own asthma. Then I obviously wore one for surgery. What song do you want to be played at your funeral? "Paradise" by Coldplay is absolutely #1. How many swear words are in the song you’re listening to? I'm not listening to music; I'm back to watching Gab play Sekiro. What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Black. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same sex, and if so, who? Yeah, just Sara. Who did you last tell to ‘shut up’? Ha, I think my WoW friend Lyndsey, but only playfully, of course. We pick fun at each other all the time. Would you ever get a tattoo of a boyfriend/girlfriend's name? NOOOOOOOOO. Are you one of those girls who already have baby names picked out? I know what I'd name my kids IF I actually wanted any, yeah, but I don't. Do you think guys with long hair are attractive? Yessss, I love long hair on guys. Are any of your siblings taller than you? I think Ashley is a liiiiil bit taller? I know my brother is, for sure. Have you ever scared someone so badly that they cried? Yikes, no. When was the last time you wore high heels? Boy oh boy, no idea. Is there someone that you want to hurt right now? Jeez, no thanks. What was the most interesting or colorful birthday cake you’ve had? I don't remember, but I'm sure something from childhood. What was the last thing someone bought you? Was it expensive? Mom bought me food from McD's, which obviously isn't expensive. Do you have any interesting moles anywhere you don’t want people to know of? No. Have you ever gotten high or drunk in a really formal place? Strong "no" there. Do you ever write poetry and post it on any certain websites? On the very rare occasion I write poetry and actually like it, I'll sometimes post it on dA. What do you miss most about your childhood? Actually, genuinely having fun and not dealing with fucking anhedonia. Would you like to know the precise date of your future death? Hell no. Do you photograph well? I'd like to hope so. Are there any animals you flat out refuse to touch? Maggots and similar bug larvae. What super power would you refuse, if it was offered to you, and why? Mind reading. It just sounds... awful and overwhelming. What’s your favorite discontinued product that you wish would come back? Oh, I KNOW I have answers to this, just none are coming to me immediately and I don't feel like sitting here for five minutes thinking about it. If adults had show and tell, what would you bring into work? My snek! :') If you had a reset button for the last 10 years, would you press it? Tempting, but... I don't think I would. I cannot go through how deep my depression was again. Who is someone you would never swear in front of? My nieces and nephew. Yes, I don't believe in profanity being a "thing" and is just a stupid human fabrication, but nevertheless I acknowledge societal standards and expectations, and they're way too young to get when you shouldn't say something like that and why. Have you ever won a contest or competition? A few. Who is your favorite TV character? I don't think I really have one? Do you coo over other people’s babies? Not really, no. Sometimes I'll think they're super cute and be like "awww," but I don't like... squeal and spaz like some people do. What is something that makes you very squeamish? VOMIT. Has there been a celebrity death that really affected you? Steve Irwin got me deeper than anyone else. Chester Bennington hit real hard, too. If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends? If you’re still in school, do you think you will? Most of my closest ones, yes, at least via Facebook. What’s a movie that you want to see? Old movie, but Jacob's Ladder. It was a massive influence on Silent Hill, so naturally, I'll probably love it. It's a classic, anyway. Do you use the same username everywhere online or do you have a lot? I use "Ozzkat" in most places, but I do have some other ones for different sites. Who was the last person you know who became pregnant? My friend Ana recently revealed she's expecting her second child, a boy. What fad were you actually into? I have zero clue. Have you ever tailgated? Would you want to? Fuck no. That's how so many wrecks happen. My sister legit got in a wreck with an 18-wheeler mostly because she was tailgating (which she does BADLY); she was trying to pass, and he moved over at the same time because he couldn't see her coming around. It's a borderline miracle she got out with only some cuts, bruises, and a seatbelt burn. Have patience, people. Get off cars' asses. Why did you fall for the last person romantically? Look, don't get me started on this. There are a shitload of reasons and I have been way too emotional over this the past few days laksdfja;lwke What’s the last thing you had to eat? A bagel w/ cream cheese for breakfast. Do you ever pick up your house phone? We don't have a landline phone. Truth be told, are you more into looks or personalities the most? Personalities, for sure. I cannot be into you if your personality isn't attractive.

[frywen-bumbles]

The Way to a Man's Heart Goes Through His... Cat? Ch2

Days 6-7: Jaskier gets some unexpected messages and looks after house plants

AO3

Master of Music.

Jaskier loves the sound of it.

What he doesn't love is the half-empty document staring at him from his laptop screen.

'Historical Facts, Recent Myths, Current Connections: The Witchers in Historical and Contemporary Music'

He has all of his research material on hand. He has read through it. Several times. But writing the actual research down isn't happening.

Gods above how much he wishes he could just compose new songs and throw his brain out of the window. He doesn't even believe in any gods but if praying will help writing to happen he's willing to try.

Roach sits on top of the bookshelf, in one of her favourite places to... stare at him. And judge. Or maybe Jaskier feels like the cat is judging him. She hasn't warmed up to him during the first week at all, all she does is stare at him whatever he does but doesn't let him close enough to touch yet alone to brush.

"You know, Roachie if you won't let me touch you soon your owner will have to shave you naked when he returns."

Roach doesn't answer.

Of course, she won't answer. He must be going bonkers. Maybe a walk will help. He doesn't hold high hopes, everything is going shite anyway, what good could one walk do?

He snaps a quick silly selfie of himself and Roach and sends it to Roach's owner, like every day. It doesn't take long for the mark to turn blue to note the message has been seen. No answer, but at this point, Jaskier is not surprised. There has been no answer in the previous days, why break the tradition now? Some people just aren't made for small talk and Jaskier isn't going to force it. Not that he'd want to see the man. No, that would be ridiculous.

He gets lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out how to put together his thesis in some sort of coherent way as he walks to the nearby park. His phone buzzes in his pocket for a new message. He digs it out, not giving it much thought expecting to see a message from Essi or Pricilla. What he sees makes him almost drop his phone in his shock.

Cat dad answered? And with a photo?

A honk makes him realise he's standing in the middle of the road like an idiot and he crosses to the other side to reach the park. Only it feels like he doesn't need to have a walk anymore, this is more excitement than he's had in the entire week.

He opens the message.

A selfie with a blonde girl and a man stare back at him. He feels like his heart will stop.

"Essi?" Jaskier has to talk to someone. He knows he shouldn't, he promised absolute confidentiality. But he will burst if he doesn't talk about this to someone. He will absolutely without a doubt die.

"What is it, Buttercup?" Essi drawls like she has all the time in the world.

"Cat dad it insanely hot!"

"Whaaat? He texted back?"

"Yes! He's off the wall hot? I can't deal with this! How am I supposed to just sit working on his desk knowing what the man looks like? He will haunt my dreams, Essi!"

"Well, spill the tea! What does he look like?"

"You know I can't tell you, just know he's the hottest dude I have ever seen, okay? I can't deal with this. How am I supposed to write academic bullshite when his picture sits on my phone and I could just... look at it whenever I want to?

"Jaskier, for fucks sake. Your thesis is already a year late. You have been promised a place in the doctoral programme. If you keep sitting on your arse with this, instead of being the brightest student at the Uni, you will fail, understand? Get your shite together and stop falling in love with every person you happen to see."

"But, Essiiii... He's really hot!"

"I know, darling. Just keep it in your pants until you've finished with your thesis. Then I give you my permission to go chase the hot cat daddy."

"Melitele forbid, Essi, you're no fun. I wasn't going to chase him! I don't even know where he is. I just can't get over the hotness, okay?"

"Mm hmm, I know you too well. Get back to work or do I need to remind you why you took up pet sitting?"

"No. I'm sorry. I'll take a small walk and then get right back to writing, I promise."

Jaskier does not get back to writing.

He stares at the picture in his phone trying to figure out how a gorgeous man like that could have such an impersonal home. The man has his hair tied back in a messy bun, revealing an undercut which tells the milky white locks are natural. Jaskier didn't know he had a thing for blonds, but he sure as hell does now.

The girl's young, maybe around ten years old, Jaskier isn't sure. Kids aren't exactly his forte, all of his friends are still firmly stuck in their studies instead of having families of their own.

The picture had been taken by the girl, the grin wide on her face suggesting taking it had been her idea. But the soft smile the man has as he looks at the girl is melting Jaskier's heart.

If only someone would look at him like that he could die happy.

A crash from upstairs startles him enough to put down his phone and look at the time. Jaskier tries and fails not to fall into despair. He has wasted another day, not a single word written and how he wishes he could just throw up all of his ideas into coherent text but it is not happening.

He closes his laptop. It's no use. Going like this he'll never graduate.

Roach stares at him from the door, covered in dust and... definitely more dust.

"I'm a mess, aren't I, Roachie?"

Roach doesn't answer. Instead, she screams and runs downstairs, expecting him to follow like a good servant. His phone buzzes for a new message and Jaskier taps it open.

<Water the plants. Remember to brush the cactus.>

Remember to what the what now? He stares at the message, trying (and failing) to ignore the image above it.

"What the fuck?" he mutters to himself as he makes his way downstairs to stare at the house plants he has given no thought at all up to this point. On the windowsill in the kitchen is a lone cactus, right next to where Roach likes to sit and look to the yard. A cactus completely covered in cat hair and Roach is happy to provide how that particular thing happened. She jumps next to the plant and rubs her head against it, leaving even more hair on the spines.

"Brush the cactus. Okay then..."

<How do I brush a cactus?>

<What the fuck Jask?>

Jaskier snaps a picture of the cactus and sends it to the group chat with Essi and Pricilla.

<How do I get rid of the hair???>

He gets no response. ... appears on the screen several times before crying laughing emojis fill the screen.

<Thanks a bunch -.- >

He goes to dig through the cabinet where he found cat things and discovers a comb.

"That'll have to do," he sighs and gets to combing the cactus, careful not to harm it. In the end, the cactus comes unharmed from the endeavour but unfortunately, Jaskier doesn't. His palm is adorned with spines he spends a good five minutes plucking out with tweezers.

<If i die bc of a cactus related infection I'm blaming you>

<omg what did you do>

<Squeezed a ball of hair in my hand but it was filled with spines from the cactus>

<lmao>

<lmao???? I'm suffering and you're laughing??? Essi, Pris is being horrible>

<it is only what you deserve>

<OMG rude!>

<kissy face emoji>

Jaskier looks up from his phone when he hears water splashing. He doesn't even want to know what toy the cat has decided to drown now but if he doesn't hurry the whole kitchen will be filled with water.

Roach is happily playing with a toy mouse dunking it in her water bowl and tossing it around, spreading water everywhere.

"Roach, please? Could you just... not do that?" Jaskier begs as he fishes the mouse out of the water bowl and puts it to dry in a cabinet. "This may come as a surprise to you but I do not enjoy mopping the floors after you." He complains as he dutifully takes kitchen towels and dries the kitchen. At least it's better than the time Roach tucked the entire kitchen rug in the water bowl while he was out.

"You are a menace," Jaskier tells Roach after he has cleaned up everything. Roach meows.

Jaskier feels like he has barely fallen asleep when he wakes up. At first, he doesn't understand what woke him, but another yowl has him wide awake. What has him jumping out of the bed and run is the sound of pumping, like someone was trying to unclog a toilet.

"Roach you bastard, where are you? Please don't throw up on a carpet!!" Jaskier tries to find the cat based on the noise, stumbling in the dark. To his horror, the noise is coming from the second floor, where he was absolutely forbidden to go.

"Roaaaaach...!" he whines and makes his way up the stairs.

The view that awaits him when he flips the light on is totally unexpected. It is so unexpected Jaskier has to pinch himself to believe he's actually standing in a real room.

It is, and really the only way to describe it is every little girl's dream room. The room spans the entire second floor, ceiling low on the sides showing it was renovated from an attic, pinks, purples and blues adorning the furnishing.

And right on the middle of the white rug is the vomit.

"Fuck."

Jaskier collects the rug and carries it in the bathroom and spends an ungodly amount of time washing it, hoping against all the odds, the stain would leave.

It doesn't.

Come morning and Jaskier is sure it's all been a weird dream. Unfortunately for him, the stained rug awaits him in the bathroom when he goes to brush his teeth and he groans in frustration.

Roach meows at the closed door and scratches it until he lets her in so she can stare at him. Jaskier sighs and snaps a quick selfie, hair mussed and toothbrush still in his mouth and sends it. No need to prolong it, now he can hopefully focus on writing.

He's drinking his third cup of tea when his phone buzzes for a new message.

<Roach's hair is as messy as yours>

Jaskier stares at the message, sent from an unknown number.

<Who is this?>

<Youre looking after daddys cat>

<You're the girl! From the picture!> <I'm Julian but you can call me Jaskier> <Wait you shouldn't text strange men does your dad know you've texted me?>

<You're not strange you just told me your name> <I'm bored daddy went out with grandpa and im left with uncle> <Hes no fun> <I'm Fiona>

<Hello Fiona, it's nice to meet you>

Jaskier doesn't know what else he's supposed to say. How does one talk with children? Just like normal people? Right?

Wait!

Jaskier comes to a sudden realisation; now he has the perfect opportunity to ask cheat codes for Roach to get the cat to, well maybe not like him but to tolerate him.

<How do I brush Roach? She doesn't let me near her>

The screen fills with laughing emojis earning a sigh from Jaskier. No help then.

<Give her cheese> <Shes crazy about it but only gets it after shes brushed>

Of course, why hasn't he thought to give the cat cheese? Maybe because it doesn't make any sense. Who gives cat cheese when there are perfectly good cat treats available?

Nothing else about this makes any sense either and since writing isn't happening nor is Fiona texting anything else he makes his way to the fridge and digs out a block of cheese and cuts a piece.

Roach runs at him screaming. She thrills and screams and rubs herself against the drawer where all of her brushes are.

Roach doesn't purr when he combs through her fur, but feeding her bits of cheese every time she gets too annoyed helps and like a miracle Jaskier manages to brush a cat-sized pile of loose fur to show for his efforts. He gives Roach the last piece when he has finished and tries to pet her, but she sprints away from him with an annoyed meow.

Maybe Roach doesn't hate him as much as he thought after all.

[evening-starlight]

Chances {Chapter Ten}

I think this is my longest Chapter so far lmao

Master List

Tainted

Word Count: 1867

    I'll be honest with you guys, our first kiss is tainted. This chapter will explain it. I will also mention that this might be hard for some readers to read, so reader discretion is advised.

    I pray for the world to open and swallow me whole right then and there. Of course, he would show up. He has to insert himself into every wonderful thing in my life. He has to plaster his face in every corner of my mind. Tom looks over my head at the man I used to be married to. This is not how I wanted to tell Tom about who it was. I slip my hands out of Tom's and turn around to Jared.

    He smiles wickedly like I've fallen into his trap. The smile sends waves of nausea and anxiety coursing through every vein in my body. "What do you want, Jared?" He hands me a bouquet of flowers. Purple and green daisies. I cross my arms to avoid taking them. "I was thinking of you, so I bought you some flowers." Jared's attention shifts his attention to Tom behind me. "Thank you for dropping my wife off. I really appreciate it." Oh, absolutely the fuck not.

    "Jared," I snap, pushing him away from Tom so we can speak semi-privately. "Why in God's name are you here? I am not your fucking wife. I don't want your damn flowers, which you never bought me when we were together anyways. I don't want you near me." My voice rising with the anger I feel boiling inside me. "You are nothing but a horrible stain on my history that I wish I could erase. You have ruined my life from the moment you walked in with that stupid book. You are the most possessive prick I have met in my life, and I regret every minute I spent with you." Jared continues to smile down at me. He has me right where he wanted me, yelling and spewing venom.

    "I just wanted to show Tom what kind of girl you really are," He says, looking at Tom behind me. "A venomous bitch." My jaw drops to the floor when I realize I walked right into his trap. He pushes the flowers into my chest and grabs my face roughly in his hands. The kiss is forceful and possessive. I feel the bile rising in my throat the longer he keeps his lips pressed to mine.

    Jared finally pulls away, wiping his lips. "I'll see you later, Jules." He walks off like nothing volatile just happened. I have approximately five seconds before I spew popcorn all over the steps. I drop the flowers on the ground and rush to the door, slamming my keys against the sensor pad and hoping it works. The door clicks like a heavenly sign. The gold trash can next to Will's desk is the closest and safest spot for the vomit.

    "Holy shit, Stella. Are you okay?" Will asks, standing up from his desk as I empty my guts into his freshly cleaned bin after falling to my knees. Someone rests their hand on my back before pulling my hair out of my face. I wave them off.

    "Fuck off, Jared." I manage between heaves.

    "It's not Jared." Tom answers. "I want to make sure you're okay, and then I'll leave if you'd prefer." I have no energy to fight as I continue to dry heave, nothing but saliva and air coming out. Will hands me a handful of tissues as I sit back on my heels. I manage a small smile in return as I wipe my mouth.

    "Sorry, Will." I apologize.

    "Don't be. I'd rather it the trashcan than across the floor," Will jokes back. "Let me get you a water from the back." I look at Tom when Will leaves.

    "I'm sorry. Theater popcorn doesn't taste good coming back up." He shakes his head with a small laugh.

    "Don't apologize, Love. He seems like a cock." I chuckle with a nod. "I'm not going to force you to talk about it now, but I would like to understand more about that relationship." I nod. It's a fair request.

     "If you grab those stupid flowers for me, we can head up to my apartment and talk. If you want," I suggest. Tom gets up to grab the flowers as Will comes back with a cold water bottle. I trade Tom the bottle for the flowers, pushing them bud first into the bin I just hurled in. I give Will another apology and tell him I'll get him his favorite bistro next time I'm at the studio.

    Tom follows me back to the elevator silently. I have no idea what to say to him, especially after something like that. What are you supposed to say when you kiss the guy of your dreams, and your abusive ex comes by and forces one on you? Sorry I have a fucked up past I've been conveniently avoiding? I unlock my apartment door and walk in first. "You can sit anywhere. I have to go bleach my mouth." I mumble, making my way to the bathroom.

    I avoid looking at myself as I gargle mouthwash, turning my back to the mirror. I can't believe I let that happen. I should have done something other than stand there like a statue. Why couldn't I do anything other than stand there and let Jared do that? Tom must think I'm a whore.

     The mouthwash is traded out for my toothbrush and toothpaste as I continue replaying what the hell just happened. Jared showing up out of nowhere with flowers after years of saying they're meaningless because they'll just die. And of course, they were purple and green; self-centered prick was probably thinking of himself as he bought the Joker colors. I meet my own eyes in the mirror as I stand straight after spitting the toothpaste out. I have mascara tear streaks running down my cheeks. I've paled considerably enough to enhance the dark circles under my eyes. I look terminally ill.

    I fix my makeup steaks quickly before walking out to the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?" I ask Tom. "I have beer, Capri Sun, and water, but you'll have to drink out of a shot glass because the two cups I have are dirty." Tom opts for a CapriSun. I hand it to him as I sit on the opposite end of my couch. We sit in silence for a few minutes while I think of how to start talking and how much I want to tell him.

    "Your apartment is quite nice," Tom starts, looking around at all the frames I have of the band and I. "Do you play all those?" He asks, gesturing to my elevated music area by my balcony door. On it is a bass guitar, acoustic and electric guitar, along with a keyboard and violin.

    "Yeah, when my parents heard I wanted to make music because Jared was, they paid for multiple lessons. I fell in love with singing, but I can definitely shred it on bass." I joke. Tom laughs with a slight nod.

    "How old were you when you met Jared again?" Tom asks in such a casual tone it calms me down slightly. Maybe he's just worried about me. Or maybe he just wants to know where Jared went wrong so he won't make the same mistakes, good or bad.

    "I was introduced to him at fourteen." I avoid Tom's sudden worried look by looking at the floor beneath my sneakers. I should get a carpet in here. "My parents wanted to be millionaires, so they moved us all to LA when I was, like, three, I think. I don't know how they met Jared's family. They never told me, and neither did Jared.

    "Everything was really innocent at first. He was my closest friend for years. He helped me with homework and practicing my music. I wanted to be just like him." I let out a bitter laugh. "I was sixteen when I realized I like him as more than a friend. We had to share a bed in a hotel on tour, and I remember not sleeping because he was right there, and he was cuddling me. He asked me out the day of my eighteenth and proposed two months later, married two more after that. We got divorced when I was twenty when I realized how much I really did miss out on life, and he was so possessive he stopped letting me go to band practice without him.

     "The band started pointing it out too. Robbie was the one who literally slapped sense into me. Because why would I hit Robbie back and tell him off, but not Jared? So, yeah. Jared's super possessive and still is." I finish quickly, realizing I was going on a tangent.

    "And he called you Jules?" I almost wished Tom would have forgotten about that. I know it's somewhere on my Wikipedia page, but would Tom have gone that far in learning about me?

    "I've had three legal names in my life," I say, finally bringing myself to look at Tom. He seems concerned, and his eyes are so soft and welcoming I could curl up into his chest right this second. "Juliet Davis is my birth name, and I took Jared's last name when we got married. Then, about a year after our divorce, I decided to rebrand myself and use a new name entirely. Don't ask me why I chose Thompson; I googled it when I was drunk, and it just stuck. Stella is from this one kids' book I was obsessed with for years, Stellaluna. I don't know why, but I carried it everywhere with me until about junior high."

    I guess I didn't notice the tears falling or that my voice was faltering. However, Tom did. Without hesitation, he pulls me into his arms, resting his head on mine. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, Love," He says in a soft voice. "You didn't deserve any of that. Thank you for sharing with me." I let him hold me for a while longer. I enjoy his touch, but I really just want to be alone to cry and break shit.

    I don't know when I fell asleep; I just know when I woke up on the couch with a blanket on top of me and water on the coffee table in front of me, that Tom had taken care of me. He left a handwritten note as well, which I still have in my house. It said, 'I didn't want to leave you alone after something like tonight, but I felt it weird to stay the night uninvited. I truly appreciate you sharing something hard with me. I hope it's alright I washed a cup for you, and found some medicine as well, in case the crying caused a headache. Text me when you wake up. Much love, Tom.' Yes, I did run through the house like a crazy lady trying to find the letter so I could write it down verbatim.

[guns-n-zeppelin]

Slash imagine: Hookup at a party

Anonymous: Hey I wanted to ask if you maybe could do an imagine with the older slash, where the reader throws a party or something like that and his son's are there because the reader and his son's are friends, and he comes to pick them up and the reader is super drunk and flirts with slash and they hook up (the reader and his son's are in there early 20's) I hope you know what I mean 😅 + Sry for my bad English

Words: 2,085

Warning: SMUT (kids go away pls)

A/N: It okay, friend, your English is great. Lmao i haven't written anything guns n roses related in ageees (sorry about that everyone heh), it's over 3am rn and i don't even know what i wrote, i barely reread it lol. Hope ye like it though. Comments about how shit this is are recommended hehe.

Not sure if i'm getting back at fanfics, if i get some requests which sound interesting i might try something quick if i have time.

People were dancing to the loud music all around you, pumping at you constantly and almost making you fall on the floor. You were carrying a half empty Jack Daniels with you and trying to walk straight. You knew you were super drunk right now and a complete mess.

You had thought it was a good idea to have a party at your house and invite all these people, but it would be really hard to get everyone leave and clean up this place after you’d recover from the worst hangover. Too late now anymore.

You walked to the kitchen, took a sip from the whiskey and put it on the table. Your friend Emilio was standing next to the fridge with couple of his friends and you started walking towards them, a large smile on your face.

”Emilio, there you are! My bestest best buddy!” you basically yelled and went to hug him tightly, burying your face on his chest.

”Y/N you’re so drunk,” he laughed, but he wasn’t completely sober himself either. For a while he looked like he would vomit, but it ended up being just a false alarm this time. ”I think i’ll call my dad to pick me up.” He took his phone and started calling his dad.

”Ohh yes, call him, that’s a good idea!” you slurred and laughed, but Emilio just ignored you and went to a quieter place.

The truth was, that you had had the biggest crush on Slash, Emilio’s dad, and you always got super awkward around him. All blushing and nervous. You almost had a breakdown if he would even smile at you and say hi. You knew he was your best friend’s dad, for god’s sake, but you couldn’t help your feelings.

It didn’t take long until Slash arrived with his car in front of your house, you and Emilio already standing and waiting outside, smoking cigarette. You looked towards Slash through the car’s window, he didn’t get off his car but waited Emilio come to the car by himself.

”Well, that’s my ride,” Emilio said, ”you sure you won’t need help to get all these people leave?”

You shook your head. ”Nah, Alicia, Sophie and Nick should be enough help with that. No worries.”

Emilio gave you a hug, until he started to walk to the car, barely keeping his balance anymore. You felt your head spinning a bit too.

You kept looking and adoring Slash’s dark figure, but quickly turned your head away and felt burning blush spreading on your cheeks. When you turned to look again, he still stared at you, but then Emilio blocked the view by going to sit in the car next to his dad, completely wasted.

You watched them drive away and let a sigh out of your mouth, still feeling your heart hammering in your chest, and returned inside. There was now less people dancing, it was quite late already, but it would still take time until people would leave.

About half an hour passed, you were talking with your good friend Sophie, until your phone rang and you had to excuse yourself elsewhere. Emilio was calling you.

”Hey, what’s up?” you answered, confused why he would call you already.

”Hey, Y/N. Emilio apparently forgot some of his stuff there at your place. Wallets and stuff i guess,” Slash sighed, sounding a bit irritated because of his son. ”I’m still heading to the centrum so i could quickly come pick them up. I know he’s in no state come tomorrow himself.”

Your eyes widened when you recognised Slash’s voice and suddenly you felt like your voice had suddenly completely disappeared and you couldn’t talk anymore.

”Y/N? If it’s not a good time, i –”

”No! No, no it’s. It’s uh, yea come. You can come get them now, it’s fine,” you stuttered.

When the call ended, you stared at the screen a bit too long and rushed inside. You went to look yourself from the mirror that you wouldn’t look like a complete mess in front of Slash. You were wearing a tight white top and a black skirt, which reached just above your knees. You saw Emilio’s bag next to the couch in living room and went to get it, almost stumbling on a guy who had passed out on the floor.

Soon Slash drove in front of your house again and you took a deep breath to calm yourself down a bit better. I can do this, you repeated in your head, don’t be a fucking fool again, you can do this.

Slash got out of his car and lighted a cigarette, while you were walking towards him.

”Uh, here’s his bag,” you muttered and he put it in the backseat.

”Thanks, Y/L. Emilio passed out immediately when we got home,” Slash told you and shook his head.

You let a laugh out of your mouth and started to giggle, soon almost not able to control it, for being so drunk.

”Yea, he was pretty drunk.”

You kept standing there in front of him just a bit longer and just looked at him. He looked back at you and blew smoke out of his mouth. You turned your head away again for a moment, but then turned back at him again, now trying to collect all your courage.

”How are you doing though?” you asked, coming a step closer him.

”I’m doing fine, thank you,” he answered and smiled, a bit confused why you were suddenly standing so close, but didn’t back off away from you.

”Are you having any … woman right now?” you asked, suddenly because of alcohol feeling extremely bold. You could smell his scent and twirled his curls between your fingers, biting your lip.

He looked a bit confused and furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what you were doing. ”Hm, no i don’t. Why are you asking that?” He threw his cigarette on the ground.

”You know, i’ve always found you incredibly hot,” you admitted and let your hand wander across his chest. ”I mean … wow.” You started to giggle again and Slash’s eyebrows shot near his hairline. ”Do you think i’m pretty?” you pouted and put your arms around his neck.

”Y/N …” Slash shook his head and your heart dropped. ”We shouldn’t … you’re drunk.”

”I knew it,” you said and backed off, feeling tears forming in your eyes. ”What’s wrong with me?” you asked, not sure if you were talking to him or more to yourself. ”I’m so stupid.”

Slash suddenly grabbed your wrist and forced you to look at him again. ”Hey, nothing’s wrong with you. You are … pretty. No, you are beautiful, Y/N. I just. It’s wrong.”

Your heart was beating faster again and you came back closer.

”What’s wrong?” you came stood just a few inches away from him and didn’t break the eye contact between the two of you anymore. You put your hands around his neck again.

”I’m too old for you and you’re my son’s friend,” Slash said. ”And you are very, very drunk.”

You just rolled your eyes. ”We don’t have to tell them,” you whispered and brought your face closer to his, cupping his cheeks with your hands. ”This can be our little secret.” You started to giggle again. Slash looked around the two of you, but there was nobody near.

”Y/L –”

”Come, i’ll show you something in the garage,” you said, thinking nobody must be there, since everybody were partying either in living room or kitchen, if not passed out in the bathroom. You took Slash’s hand in yours and started dragging him behind you to the garage. Surprisingly he followed you.

You closed the garage door and it was empty, just as you thought, only your own car standing there. You turned back to Slash and as he was just trying to say something, you slammed your lips against his, taking him into a deep kiss. He was a bit unsure at first, but still kissed you back. Eventually he broke the kiss.

”You’re drunk, Y/N.”

You shook your head. ”I know what i’m doing. I want you, Slash,” you said quietly and planted a few kisses on his neck. ”I need you.”

”Don’t say that,” Slash whispered, while looking into your eyes. You grabbed a hold on his dick, feeling through his pants his growing erection. Slash hissed between his teeth and a smile spread on your face.

You slided your hand now under his pants and took his dick entirely in your hand, starting to stroke him up and down.

”Y/N …”

”Shh,” you interrupted him, took his hand and slid it under your top on your breast. ”Don’t talk, just fuck me. I want you to fuck me, Slash, right now.”

You kissed Slash again and he immediately made the kiss deeper. You took your top off, leaving you only in your bra. You opened his belt and helped him get his pants off. You pulled also down his underwear and revealed his huge erection and only by looking at it, it made you even more wet. You stroke again his dick with your hand, making him groan, and looked at him into his eyes.

”You know … i’ve always wanted to try having sex in a car.” You glanced at your car next to you and then back at Slash. You took your underpants off and let them drop on the floor, then opening the door. Before he said anything, you kissed him again and felt his hands open your bra and taking them off. After you’d also took your skirt off, you were completely naked in front of him. He scanned your body for a while, until grabbed your waist and pulled you close against his body.

”God, you’re beautiful,” Slash said and roughly grabbed your ass, making you whimper. Your heart fluttered in your chest and he went to sit in the car seat, you following right behind him. You sat on his lap, burying his cock inside you, slowly, until he had filled you completely, all of his thick length disappeared inside your vagina.

You let out a deep moan out of your mouth, you hadn’t expected him to be so big. ”Oh gosh, Slash.” You were still for a while and Slash let you take your time, keeping his hands on your ass, grabbing them roughly.

And then you started to move, up and down on him, your chest and boobs just inches from his face. Slash helped you move by holding your ass and you fastened your pace as fast as you could. You tried to keep your head from pumping on the car ceiling, but it waa harder than you first had thought.

You moaned and whimpered each time his dick hit just the right spot inside you, but you tried to be as quiet as possible, still a bit afraid someone might hear and walk in. Slash moaned too and put his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you back into a deep kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

”I’m so close, oh god, Slash,” you whimpered and he looked at you.

”Come for me,” he whispered. And then you came, orgasm running through your body, him right behind you. Both of you were just moaning messes.

You held his shoulders and tried to catch your breath for a while. You were still sitting on his lap and his hand came up to put a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled and giggled, him chuckling back at you.

The next morning you woke up from your own bed, the sun already up in the sky. You didn’t know how you’d gotten into your bed. Honestly, you didn’t remember much about the night in general and you had no idea what kind of mess was waiting for you downstairs. Though you just physically couldn’t think about it right now, due to your horrible hangover, so you put your head back on your pillow.

One thing you did remember though for sure. You would have thought it had been just a sex dream with the famous guitarist, but feeling how sore you were at the moment, you definitely knew it had actually happened and wasn’t just a fantasy in your mind.

You stared at the ceiling, deep in your thoughts, not sure at all how to face him next time you’d visit Emilio.

[lavenderlattaes]

call me babe. | hwang hyunjin

⇒ summary: you’ve had this thing going on with hyunjin; you called each other babe and acted like a couple for fun. but what happens when he starts liking someone else?

⇒ [college! au, idiots to lovers! au, friends to lovers! au]

⇒ pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

⇒ word count: 4.4k words (woAh)

⇒ genre:  fluff, with a smidge of angst, i guess

⇒ warnings: swear words, plus clingy and flirty hyunjin and reader lmao

⇒ note:  ajxbwjsk this is lit rally based off my best friend’s friendship with another one of our guy friends but i tweaked it a bit so now it’s purely self-indulgent bc HWANG  H Y U N J I N. honestly this is total word vomit and a complete mess — it’s just random moments of my self-indulgence for hyunjin (i need help) so ignore mistakes bc im a bit of a blind bat and enjoy!  ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

“I’m gonna go ahead, see you guys tomorrow,” Hyunjin bids all of you good bye, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder. Everyone momentarily looks up, saying good byes to him. 

Locking class had just ended, but Hyunjin was already in a rush to leave. You stop fixing and put your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Running off again, I see. Where are you off to, Hwang?” You demand, your chin held up high.

He rolls his eyes, walking closer to you.

“I’m meeting up with Yeji,” he answers and you huff. You push him away, turning around to continue fixing your things.

“Hmm, yeah sure. You’re probably just too lazy to bring me home,” You scoff. You hear Hyunjin sigh behind you and seconds later, his arms are wrapped around your waist, his cheek resting on your back.

“Please don’t be mad, babe. And I’m not being lazy! I really do have something to do with Yeji. We need to finish our choreo for the showcase. If you want, you can wait for me and I’ll bring you home later, yeah?” he answers you, making you smile while rolling your eyes. You turn around in his arms, seeing him pout at you with those pleading, puppy dog eyes of his.

“Nah, it’s okay. I can go with Jisung. Just, stay safe okay? Don’t go home late, I’m going to call Felix and make sure you’re home on time. If not, Felix won’t be able to dab again,” You threaten and he lets out a hearty chuckle, his eyes crinkling.

“Yes, ma’am.” He hugs you tight and you return with equal enthusiasm. You break the hug and he says his final goodbyes to everyone, jogging out of the studio.

Once he’s out, Jisung speaks up. “Why don’t you just date already? I’m tired of you guys calling each other babe and shit.” He complains.

You roll your eyes at him as he comes closer to you. “Why don’t you go date Minho then?” You retort and Jisung huffs.

“Shut up, we’re just friends,” Jisung pokes your cheek. 

“Hmm, okay,” you shake your head at him, and he grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m going to go write lyrics with Chan and Changbin. You wanna come with?” Jisung asks as he leads you outside.

You shake your head and smile. “That’s fine, I should probably go check on my essay that I sent in for Mr. Kim’s class last week,” you reply.

“Okay, but don’t tell Hyunjin I didn’t bring you home alright? He might beat my ass up,” Jisung pouts and you laugh, hugging him. 

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just being over dramatic,” you reassure him and he laughs. “Okay, gotta go now! Bye, Y/N!” 

You wave good bye and as Jisung’s form becomes smaller the farther away he is from the building, the more you wished you had gone with Hyunjin.

A few days have passed, and Hyunjin’s been spending less and less time with you. Ever since he told you about the dance he’s working on with Yeji, he’s hardly been spending time with you. 

Truth be told, even if you wanted to call him out for it, you can’t. Because honestly, wouldn’t that make you seem clingy? It’s not as if you and Hyunjin are dating anyway. You just had this habit of calling each other ‘babe’ with a lot of flirting involved.

It started off as a simple joke; you accidentally called him babe, since you used to call your girl friends that way back in high school. He laughed it off, saying you could never resist his charms — you probably really couldn’t, but you wouldn’t let him know that. Another time came when you needed to get out of a sticky situation with a guy who just couldn’t understand that you didn’t like him, so when you saw Hyunjin pass by, you called him babe and he helped pretend to be your boyfriend for five minutes.

“Come on, Y/N. Just one date,” the guy who’s name you didn’t even know asks you, stepping closer as you stepped away.

“I’m sorry, but no. I don’t even know you that much and I really can’t,” you try again and he steps closer, taking your hand in his as you try to get away. 

“Why? It’s not as if you’re already taken,” he reasons and at that moment, you see Hyunjin pass by. You pull your hand back and smile.

“Babe, Hyunjin!” You call out and Hyunjin turns to you. He sees the pleading look in your eyes and the way you subtly glance at the stubborn boy beside you. 

Hyunjin winks, letting you know he got the message. He jogs up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kisses your cheek. 

Okay that wasn’t necessary but, thank you.

“What’s up? I was just looking for you,” Hyunjin pokes the tip of your nose, side-eyeing the guy.

“I’m… gonna go now. Forget what I said, Y/N,” the guy awkwardly coughs, walking away, stealing small glances at you and Hyunjin. Hyunjin pulls you closer and watches the guy walk away. 

The guy turns around the corner and Hyunjin snorts, letting his head fall on his shoulder as his cheeks burned red. “You’re lucky I love you, Y/L/N. I wouldn’t have done something like that if it was Jisung,” Hyunjin giggles as you laugh at him.

The whole babe thing just kind of stuck, and while most people thought you two were dating, only your friends knew that you were just playing around. You and Hyunjin sort of used that tactic to “ward off” — his words, not yours — those people who wanted to get into relationships with either of you that you didn’t want. You weren’t up for a relationship yet, seeing as you both were working hard in college to get into a really good company after graduating. You had to fight off any potential distractions and helping each other out by pretending to be a couple seemed like the best option. You both had this joke that the whole calling each other babe thing would end once the both of you started seeing someone officially. 

Anyway.

Currently, dance classes have just ended and you look around to see that everyone’s already left. 

Except for Hyunjin.

“Jinnie.” You call out, walking over to him. Hyunjin opens his arms for you and you step into his embrace. 

“Hi, babe, what’s up ?” He says, grinning. 

You pout at him. “Where do you run off to these days? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” you whine. Hyunjin laughs, making you laugh as well. You sounded so clingy but you didn’t care. Hyunjin’s even worse.

“I, uh, meet up with Yeji to practice our dance.” He replies and you raise an eyebrow.

“Are you really practicing for the showcase?” you ask, stepping away from him, raising your eyebrow playfully and he grins sheepishly. You keep teasing Hyunjin about Yeji, the pretty girl in his other advanced hiphop class, telling him that soon enough, he’d drop the babe on you once he finally gets the balls to ask her out. The poor boy just whined at you.

“Well...” he trails off, scratching the back of his head.

“Aish, whatever. Go to your woman,” you say, sounding like a mom. He grins, hugging and kissing your face. You scrunch up your face, swatting him away.

“Ew, Hyunjin stop,” you whine and he laughs at you. He stops pestering you and he fixes himself up like a little kid would on his first day of school.

“How do I look?” He asks you, and you looked him up and down.

“Like an idiot,” you deadpan. He pouts and you laugh, ruffling his hair.

“You go on and have fun, yeah? Don’t go home too late,” You tell him as he picks up his stuff.

“Yes, mommy.” He mock salutes you, walking out.

“If shit doesn’t work out with Yeji, don’t whine and ask me to come pick you up! Take care, oh and don’t be an idiot, okay?” You call after him and he raises his thumbs up.

“Whatever you say, ma’am!” He calls out. 

Looking out the window, you soon see Hyunjin walking out of the building. He breaks into a jog once you see Yeji standing a few feet away. There’s a smile on her face and she grins, giving him a hug which he reciprocates. Sighing, you lean against the wall and slide down, bringing your legs up to your chest.

You look up and start talking to yourself.

“You’re such an idiot, Y/N”

“Do you really have zero feelings for him?”

“If I did, you think I’d be pushing him towards Yeji?”

“But isn’t that what main protagonists do in films? If they like a person and can’t risk the friendship they push them towards other people?”

You purse your lips, resting your cheek on your knee.

Do you really like Hyunjin? Or are you just bothered by the fact that his attention is on someone else that isn’t you? Didn’t you initiate the entire thing with Yeji, anyway? Do you want Hyunjin, or do you just want the attention that Hyunjin gives you? 

Weeks after that encounter with Hyunjin, he’s been spending ZERO time with you. You were looking for someone to hang out with, since your rehearsals just ended and you had about three hours to kill before your next class. But Hyunjin’s busy practicing with Yeji, and it didn’t help that Jisung’s busy too with his final showcase with Chan and Changbin. All of your friends, Woojin, Seungmin, and Jeongin were all busy rehearsing for their showcase too. Felix and Minho were your only hope since they didn’t have their rehearsals until later, but they weren’t answering their phones. 

“Why buy phones when you won’t answer them,” you mutter, slowly walking away from the auditorium. “Hyunjin would probably try and find some way to hang out with me,” you whine and stop in your tracks.

Damn it.

You do like him. 

“Y/N!” Fuck, speak of the devil. You don’t turn around and speed-walk, trying your best to pretend you didn’t hear him.

“Y/N! Hey, wait up!” Shit, shit, shit. At that moment, the doors to the lecture hall a few steps away open and a crowd of students file out. You walk faster and slide in the huge crowd, losing Hyunjin. His voice drowns out and you soon find yourself in an empty room, locking the door behind you. Looking around, you survey the area and realize it’s the photography room. The photography majors didn’t use the room around this time, so hopefully no one will scold you for being there.

You like Hyunjin. You actually like the idiot. Why else would you compare him to the other guys? Why else would you try and avoid him like the plague like you’re hiding something? You were an open book around him, so he’d definitely see right through you. You’d blow your cover and ruin the best friendship you’ve ever had with anyone.

You flop down onto one of the chairs, running a hand through your hair. Whipping your phone out, you type a message to Jisung.

you: i know u’re probs still w chan and changbin, but what time do rehearsals end?

jisung: i was just about to text you, hyunjin came in looking for you. Where are you?

you: dont tell hyunjin anything. can you come over to the dorms now? 

jisung: i have about fifteen minutes more with chan and changbin. Is that okay?

you: yeah, just. Don’t tell hyunjin or chan or changbin anything. Or any of the guys.

jisung: okay 

You exhale shakily, standing up to leave. You quickly make your way to the dorms, hoping Hyunjin didn’t see you.

“What’s up? Spill.” Jisung says the moment you open the door for him. You lock the door behind him and pull him to sit on your roommate Ryujin’s bed. 

You stare intently at Jisung, trying to find out how you’re going to tell your loudmouth friend. You’d much rather tell Woojin since he definitely wouldn’t tell anyone, but he was unavailable at the moment and Jisung was actually really trustworthy if he wasn’t so loud all the time.

Deciding to just go with it, you blurt out, “I like Hyunjin.”

Jisung smirks, “I knew it.” He’s about to say more, but then pauses, suddenly confused. “So, what’s the problem?”

“He likes Yeji and I can’t risk our friendship. We both agreed to drop the babe thing once we found someone we genuinely liked, and he’s found Yeji. Soon enough, he’s going to tell me he’s dropping the babe and I’m not going to be selfish and admit that I like him. That’ll just ruin everything and I don’t want to ruin the best friendship I’ve ever had with anyone; not that I don’t have great friendships with you guys too, but you know what I mean.” You say all in one breath, Jisung looking at you in awe.

“Do you wanna, maybe join 3RACHA? We can be 4RACHA,” Jisung says.

You stare at him. “Jisung.”

Jisung shrugs, then sighs. “No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t see Yeji that way. Besides, they’re both Hwangs. Wouldn’t that be weird?”

You give him a look. “Jisung, you and I both know that last names don’t matter. I mean, look at Song Joong Ki and Song Hye Kyo,” you point out. 

“Didn’t they get divorced around like, August or something?” Jisung looks up in thought.

“Han Jisung!” You whine.

“Okay, sorry, we’re getting off topic. Anyway. Hyunjin doesn’t like Yeji.” Jisung reassures you, leaning back on the wall.

“Well, even if he doesn’t, he’ll never feel the same way for me.” You look out the window, seeing all your friends running around the field, minus you and Jisung. Hyunjin was there too.

“I want to avoid him.” You turn back to Jisung. He looks perplexed at this point.

“And why? Are you insane? You know that avoiding your problems never help, Y/N.”

You sigh. “I can’t let him know I like him, Ji. It will make things worse.”

“But—”

“Please trust me on this. I’ll ignore him only for as long as my feelings are here. I’ll talk to him when I’ve completely moved on. It won’t affect my relationships with you guys. I promise.” You plead, clasping onto Jisung’s hands.

Jisung looks defeated. “I won’t trust you on this one, but I’ll respect your decision. If this is what you want, I’ll go with it. I’ll always be here, okay?”

You give him a grateful smile and he pulls you into a hug. 

“Please don’t get your heart broken, Y/N,” Jisung sighs, and you can only squeeze him tighter.

A month passes by and you’ve been ignoring Hyunjin. During the first week that you didn’t greet him when he entered class, he brushed it off as you not having a good day. However, Hyunjin knew that even if you weren’t in a good mood, you’d come to him all the more. You once told him his hugs made your day better, so the fact that you were ignoring him and not asking for his hugs left him confused. He just let it go, thinking that maybe it’s something really serious. You’d tell him eventually.

The second week that you still didn’t talk to him, he tried asking the guys about it, but none of them knew what was going on with you. You still talked to all of them, except for him. Hyunjin however, did notice you hanging out with Jisung a lot more than you usually did, so he tried asking Jisung, but the boy refused to say anything. 

By the third week, Hyunjin soon thinks that maybe he did something wrong. But every time he tried to think of all the possibilities, he couldn’t come up with anything at all. Did he forget a promise he made with you? Did he say something wrong? Did he borrow your favorite book and lose it or forget to return it or something? Did he eat your secret stash of M n M’s in your dorms? Hyunjin’s sure he’s done none of those.

By the fourth week, Hyunjin gives up when he sees you hugging Jisung. Maybe you had feelings for Jisung and you didn’t know how to confront Hyunjin about the babe thing. Maybe you think it would be weird to continue being so touchy and flirty with Hyunjin now that you’re dating Jisung. 

Your last class had ended for the day, and you’re now just waiting for Jisung and Felix. Jisung had invited you to hang out with him and Felix, since they were going to go relax a bit before facing the showcase which was scheduled to happen next week. 

You’re too lazy to take your backpack off, so you’re just sitting cross-legged on a bench, your backpack still on your shoulders. Your earphones are in, playing really sad Day6 songs you didn’t realize Woojin and Seungmin snuck into your playlist while you read some underrated angsty teen novel you found at a random bottom shelf in the library. It’s around 4pm, so the sun is still high up in the sky, giving you enough light to read. Suddenly, your source of light is blocked and you frown, trying to make out the words. You look up and lock eyes with the one person you’ve been avoiding this whole time.

You gasp and try to stand up, but realize that someone’s tied the ends of your backpack straps to the bench. Fuck. You pull your earphones out and take your backpack off, deciding right there that you can be a total idiot and just abandon your bag there and get it later. 

Yes, you were that desperate to get away from Hwang Hyunjin.

“Y/N, wait.” Hyunjin’s hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist. You freeze and look down at his hand resting on your wrist. His grip is firm, but gentle.

You gulp and slowly turn around. Your eyes meet his hurt and confused ones, your heart aching at the sight.

“Are you dating Jisung?” Hyunjin asks softly and you frown at him.

“Are you dating Yeji?” You answer back with your own question.

“Answer my question first,” Hyunjin sighs and you purse your lips. You shake your head and Hyunjin lets go of your wrist, visibly relaxing,

“I’m not dating Yeji either.” He says. Although you didn’t want to know that, because your stupid, stubborn self refuses to believe that he likes you, you still find yourself feeling relieved.

Hyunjin steps closer to you. 

“What wrong did I do for you to avoid me this long? How big was it that you’d willingly leave your backpack here, when I know that you’d never ever leave it behind even if a zombie apocalypse would suddenly happen because you told me that one time? You even told me you’d leave Felix behind, or maybe sacrifice Changbin, but never your bag. So, what did I do wrong, Y/N? Why have you been avoiding me? It’s driving me crazy,” Hyunjin bombards you with questions.

You purse your lips and shake your head. “I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been really busy.” You lie right through your teeth.

Hyunjin chuckles humorlessly. “So busy is sitting down on a bench, listening to music and reading books now? You’ve been avoiding me for an entire month, Y/N. Like, blatantly avoiding me!” He snaps. 

That escalated quickly. You’re getting tired of this. The more you look at him, the more it’s getting hard for you too look away. Even with his face in a frown, his eyes filled with frustration and maybe even anger, Hyunjin still looked beautiful to you.

Fuck him and his genes.

You take a huge step back from him, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s it to you, huh, Hyunjin?!” You glare.

“I just wanted to know why you’re avoiding me, Y/N! What did I even do? Please do enlighten me,” He shouts, frustrated. You’re glad everyone’s either gone home already or still in classes, so no one’s there to witness your fight.

“Can’t I just ignore you because I just don’t want to talk to you?” You say, anger bubbling up inside of you. Or is it your feelings, already on the verge of spilling out of you like vomit? 

“No, Y/N! I know you well enough to know that if you avoid people it’s not because you just don’t feel like it— there’s a reason behind it.” Hyunjin replies, exasperated. 

“Why do you want to know so badly? Why do you care?!” You shout back. You’re tired of this; you’re tired of staying away from him, hoping it’ll get rid of your feelings for him. But the more you stayed away from him, the more your heart yearned for him. You just wanted the words to leave your lips already.

I love you. 

You’d only realized it recently; you don’t just like Hyunjin— you love him. You love the way his eyes crinkle into small crescent moons when he’s genuinely happy. You love his loud, infectious laugh that you can pinpoint even if you were a mile away. You love his hugs, you love how he dances with so much passion because it’s something he loves to do. You love everything about him and it’s driving you insane too. It’s driving you insane that you keep wanting someone who can’t love you back in the same way.

“Because I’m your friend, Y/N! I worry about you, okay? Can I do something to help you? Why don’t you share your problems with me? Please tell me!” Hyunjin pleads with you, his hands coming up to grip your shoulders desperately.

Uh oh.

“No, Hyunjin! You can’t do fucking anything to help me because you’re the reason why I’m doing this, why I’m avoiding you! I love you, I’ve fallen in love with you, and it’s scary. It’s scaring me, okay? I’m scared that you don’t feel the same and it will change everything! You have Yeji now, don’t you? I can’t be selfish and ask you to return my feelings when you’ve already found the one for you,” you blurt everything out, feeling out of breath afterwards. The tears you didn’t know you were holding in start falling freely down your cheeks now. 

You didn’t care anymore. Hyunjin at least deserved to know. You feel better though, because everything that’s been bottled up inside of you is now out in the open. 

Hyunjin stands still in front of you, his face holding an unreadable expression. You’ve always been able to read Hyunjin like an open book, but you can’t decipher what’s going on in that pretty head of his. Every second that passes by that he doesn’t say anything, makes you feel more and more of an idiot for saying anything at all. You sigh, wiping the tears away hastily, but there’s still more. 

“Forget it. Forget I said anything.” You whisper, your voice rough and raspy. You turn around to get your things and get the fuck out of there when Hyunjin suddenly holds you back. 

You sigh. You turn around to face him, “Hyunjin, what—” he cuts you off mid-sentence when his lips crash against yours roughly. The kiss catches you off guard and you almost stumble, but his arms quickly wound around your waist, holding you in place. You’re surprised, but you kiss him back, and he tilts his head to the side to kiss you better. Your tears are still flowing freely, and his arms leave your waist to cup your cheeks, as his thumbs wipe away the tears. Your arms go around his neck, pulling him in closer. He pulls away slightly, before going back in to kiss you again, this time, softer and gentler. The second kiss leaves you lightheaded and you clasp your hands tighter around his neck. Hyunjin’s lips, his oh, so soft and plump lips feel so perfect as they mould against yours. His lips taste like vanilla, and you’re guessing he just ate vanilla ice cream because he knew you liked vanilla and he once told you he’d eat the things you loved — even if he didn’t like it that much, if he missed you.

And you’re just realizing this now, too, that Hyunjin does so many things for you, and because of you. On days when the winter air is particularly cold, he’d bring you an extra pair of gloves because he knows you keep forgetting yours. He buys you hot packs because you easily get cold. You’re always trapped in his hugs because he knows how much you need his body warmth. In the summer, no matter how hot it is, if you want to go out for ice cream, he’d willingly go with you, if it means seeing you all smiley and happy. He always seems to know what you need, whenever you need it.  You realize now that Hyunjin lives for your happiness and he cares about you way too much. 

Maybe he’s always felt the same way for you and you were just too dense and too stubborn to realize that.

When you both pull away for air, he looks at you, your heart beating loudly in your chest. He kisses your forehead as he pulls you in for a hug, his arms going around your shoulders as yours wrap around his waist. You bury your head in his chest and listen to the fast beating of his heart.

Hyunjin suddenly laughs, causing you to snort.

“How’s Yeji doing?” You joke, your hands playing with the ends of his hoodie. Hyunjin chuckles, his chest vibrating as he kisses the crown of your head.

“You know I only have eyes for you, babe.”

“Glad to know we don’t have to drop the babe thing and it’s finally official,” I laugh.

“True. Oh, and by the way?” Hyunjin pulls you back so he can look at you properly. He cups your jaw and tilts your head up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He smiles when you pull away and he looks in adoration at the expectant look on your face.

He rests his forehead against yours and nuzzles your nose, making you giggle. “I love you too, Y/N.”

⇒ let me know what you think or hmu with anything under the sun here!

[softyoongiionly]

No Diving 🏊‍♂️

A Thursday night in the sweltering heat was not your idea of a good time. Your boyfriend however, has a few plans up his sleeve to help you ‘cool off.’

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Fluffy!!! Jin, Boyfriend! Jin, little known fact: Jin was my very first bias in BTS and, he frequently taunts me with his overwhelming perfection,  SMUT (18+ only), Jealous! Y/N

Word Count: 3.2k ( I got a lil out of hand with this one, I blame Jin)

Warnings: smut (no minors plz)

A/N: whoa there, apparently I have a lot of feelings for Jin and, this was an attempt to get it all out. CAUSE EXPRESSING YOURSELF IS A GOOD THING BROTHER. anyway lmao

love you xx

The entirety of the back of your neck is coated in a vomit inducing amount of sticky sweat.  Your normally cozy apartment felt like a stale-scented sauna from which you could not escape. Due to scheduled maintenance, your building  had informed it’s tenants that:

“This Thursday, July 18th, we will be shutting off the Central Air system for a yearly tune up.  The tune up will begin at approximately 10pm and, conclude around 5am to avoid inconveniencing our tenants. We ask that you plan accordingly.

Sincerely,

Management”

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue however, your region had been experiencing an intense heatwave that had kept temperatures well above their national average for about a week now. There was no mercy after sundown as the temperatures were only wavering a few degrees lower.  

Hell, it was absolute hell.

The heat is not something you handled well. You liked to think of yourself as a fairly calm and reasonable person. Well your calmness and your reason-ability were no match for the sweltering heat that seemed to ebb and flow against the perimeter of your body.  What’s almost nearly as irritating, is that your boyfriend, who had spent the entire day shirtless, seemed to have no issue with the lack of air conditioning.

“Jagi,” He chuckles from the counter-top, shaking the black fringe out of his eyes as he continues to cut up a few strawberries, “…it’s not that bad. The air’s only been off for an hour…”

Your irritation simmers at a dangerous rate underneath your skin, “Jin, it’s literally a thousand degrees in here…”

He snorts, shaking his head, rolling his broad shoulders before scooping the strawberries into the blender, his dark eyes scanning the counter to locate the bottle of silver tequila.

“You’re being dramatic…which is my job.” He smirks as your displeasure becomes even more evident on your face, pouring a few shots of tequila into the mix.  “…The margaritas will help cool you down and, if you want, we can always go down to the pool and, wait it out.”

Huffing, you lean hopelessly against the counter, wishing that you could crawl inside of the freezer Jin was currently pulling ice cubes out of.

“The pool closes in ten minutes…” You groan into your palm, trying to ignore the fact that your ANKLES were covered in sweat.

Jin shrugs, the ice cubes landing in the blender with a loud sloshing sound, “So? We pay rent here, the worst they’re going to do, is tell us to leave…”

He makes a compelling argument. Nobody from management would be in at this hour and, most of the security group would likely be with the maintenance crew. You look up at him, admiring the way the sweat glistened across his bare chest as he added a few squeezes of lime juice into the blender.  

Damn him for looking good in these conditions.

“That’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had…”

Jin chuckles, brows rising at your comment, “No, the worst idea I’ve ever had was the time I tried to make a move on you in grade 12 by leaving a homemade custard pie in your locker…”

You giggle at the memory of a very nervous, lanky Jin explaining to you that  there was a now putrid pie in your locker because, he had no idea you would be away on vacation for the week. He had just assumed you ate it and, didn’t like him.  

Neither of which were true…

“Hey don’t say that, that pie was the reason you and I went to homecoming together. Which, if I remember correctly, lead to you getting head for the first time.” You point out, still smiling fondly as you slowly make your way off of the barstool.  

You were going to take advantage of your trip to the pool by using it as an excuse to wear the least amount of clothing legally possible.

“That’s very true—it wasn’t the first time I got head though…” Jin lets this tiny microscopic bit of information and as soon as he does, his eyes widen.

Why the hell did he just say that?

Pausing in your tracks, you feel your stomach churn in an uncomfortable way, “Wait…but-“

As you turn around, your boyfriend quickly amends, his eye still widened in surprise.

“It wasn’t my first time but, it was the best night of seventeen year old Jin’s life so, it didn’t matter…”

Your eyes look over him, assessing his answer. Jin chuckled nervously from the counter before his eyes roll in the wake of the awkward silence.

“Jagi, that was like 8 years ago, you’re not seriously upset are you?” His tone is teasing but, gentle, desperately hoping he hadn’t actually bothered you.

No, of course not. Why would you be upset?  

That would be ridiculous.  

You and Jin had been dating for 7 years and, lasted not only through 4 years of long distance when the two of you went away for school but, you made it through the countless hardships one often encounters at the beginning of adulthood.

7 years later and, you’re both still head over heels in love with one another and, despite your busy schedules, still manage to find time to indulge in eachother…often.

Like, very often…

He was right, it shouldn’t matter, it dOESn’t matter…

Everything is fine.  

“No, I’m not, I think you told me about them actually…I must have forgot…” You pull a convincing smile across your face, trying to ignore the burning curiosity that had lodged itself into your brain.

Jin doesn’t look convinced but, the ice was starting to melt under the blistering heat of your apartment and, he wanted to finish up the margaritas to take to the pool.

“Okay good, now get your cute ass into the room and, please for the love of god, don’t come back in that red bikini…” He looks at you pointedly, gesturing to the bedroom.

You cock your head, giggling at his request, “Wait why? I thought you liked the red bikini?”

“I do but-- “ He motions wildly to the space surrounding him, “The apartment is hot enough and, if you come out here in that thing, you’re going to set the building on fire…”

Laughter echoes throughout the kitchen as you wave him off, “Stopppp…”

However, his comment soothes your petty jealousy (temporarily) and, you do exactly as he instructed you not to do, and slipped on the strappy red bikini you had bought earlier that month.

Moments later, you exit the room to find your boyfriend carefully scooping pink slushy liquid into matching, tropical tiki glasses, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in concentration.

Fuck, you really loved this man.

“Are you re-“ He begins his sentence before halting it abruptly, his eyes widening in horror as he spots you, “YAH! WHAT DID I JUST SAY? DO YOU WANT ME DEAD? IS THAT IT? YOU WANT YOUR BOYFRIEND DEAD?”

You burst out into another fit of giggles, parading over in his direction, “STOP, you’re gonna wake up the neighbors…”

Guffawing, he reaches for you, fingers wiggling in anticipation, “SO?? THERES A FIRE IN THE BUILDING Y/N! THEY SHOULD BE AWAKE…”

Your stomach is painfully sore from your increasing laughter as you grab his hands and, lean into his gesticulating frame. Your lips attach themselves to his momentarily to stop the noise, fearing that your neighbors will think there is an actual fire in the building.

Jin smiles into your lips, his strong hands coming out to grip your waist.

“You’re ridiculous…and it still feels like we’re on the fucking sun so, save your touching for the pool.”

Jin chuckles, stealing a kiss before, putting his hands up, and conceding with you.

“Fair enough…can you grab the towels? I’ll get the drinks…”

Roughly 10 minutes later, you and Jin make it to the gated pool that sat in the center of your complex. The summer breeze was a slight improvement from your apartment but, the air was still sticky and, far too dense to be considered pleasant.

“Do you have the key?” Jin inquires in a hushed tone, turning back to you at the gate.

“Fuck….” You groan, looking dreadfully back at your apartment.

He snickers, shaking his head at you before setting the drinks down, “It’s alright, I got it…”

“Be careful!”  A panicked whisper-yell tumbles out of your mouth as your boyfriend grips the top of the fence, hoisting himself over.

He snickers again as he lands on the other side effortlessly and, pulls the gate open.

“Don’t trip on the margaritas…I will leave you.” He warns as he brushes past you to pick them up.

You snort, tossing the towels onto a nearby chair, “I’m glad our nearly decade long relationship is so easily broken over spilled margaritas.”

“Frozen strawberry margaritas...that you watched me slave over, thankyouverymuch...” He corrects, smirking as he sets the cups down on the edge of the pool.

A giggle leaves your lips as you follow him over to the water.

The pool area was strangely eerie at night. During the day, especially this time of year, it was loud, crowded and, reeked of sunblock and, burnt barbecue. Tonight however, after hours, the area was impossibly quiet, the pool lights illuminating its entirety with a soft blue-green hue.  

A light splash brought you out of your head and, you turn towards the pool to see that Jin had already hopped in, the water in the shallow end only coming up to his waist.

“Is it cold?” You wavered slightly at the steps causing Jin to roll his eyes, his hand coming up to push his hair back.

“No, it’s ‘literally a thousand degrees’ remember? It feels like bath water...” Jin teases, opening his arms to beckon you forward, “...get in here, I’m already lonely.”

You flip him off at his mocking of your tone before giggling as he pretends to catch it like a kiss. Soon enough, you decide to trust his judgement and, slowly begin wading into the pool. The water proved to be the exact temperature Jin described and, it was so soothing that you found yourself immediately dunking under water. The uncomfortable sweaty feeling finally comes to an end and, you feel your mood improving significantly as you begin to cool down.

“You’re a genius Kim Seokjin...” You murmur as he starts making his way toward you, grabbing your drinks along the way.

He laughs at that, handing you the tiki cup before taking a sip from his own.

“I know I am but, I’m glad to finally hear it from you jagi,” He gestures to the cup, looking at you pointedly, “drink this before it melts. Let me know what you think, I added extra fresh strawberries this time...the syrupy shit is too sweet.”

You follow his directions, taking a drink from the tiki cup, humming happily as the refreshing strawberry slush envelops your tastebuds.

“It’s amazing, as usual, I like the fresher berries too, it’s less overbearing...”

“Okay good, I’ll make it that way next time,” Jin smiles, pleased with your reaction before jerking his head towards you, “So are you gonna come over here now or, are you going to keep torturing your poor, sweet, innocent, boyfriend?”

His face turns up into pout but, as usual, there’s mischief behind his eyes.

“You’re so dumb...” You laugh at his antics but, you don’t fight him, setting your drink down before wading over to him. Jin joins you in your laughter as he sinks down further into the water to encourage you to wrap your legs around him.

“Mm thank you... “ He murmurs happily, grinning as you settle into his grip.

You're grateful that the water provides such buoyancy that you’re both essentially weightless because, it allows you to wrap yourself around your boyfriend without fear of him dropping you.

Which he has definitely done before.

“Hi....” You hum as he wades around the shallow end of the pool, his face lit up with pure contentment.  

“Hi...” He responds, pecking at your lips over and over, playfully nibbling on your bottom lip. The giggles that initially leave your mouth eventually fade as your boyfriend’s sinfully plump lips start kissing into you deeper and deeper.  

Jin leans against the side of the pool wall, big hands motioning for you to wrap your legs around his waist, the slow kiss continuing all the while.

He was the only man you had ever been with but, you couldn’t imagine things getting any better than this. Even after years together, Jin knows exactly how to get your heart sputtering in your chest.  

As he explores the skin of your back, his gentle but assured touch sends shivers down your spine, causing you to kiss at him with more fervor. Your tongue slips in with his, sliding slowly against it, causing him to groan gently into your mouth. 

You considered yourself the luckiest person in the observable universe that you had somehow managed to score the man of the century but, there was something rather annoying nibbling at the back of your mind.

“...it wasn’t the first time I got head though...”

That singular, stupid, insignificant little comment that was uttered nearly a half an hour ago was stirring something inside of you.

It was unsettling and wholly unfamiliar because, you considered yourself to be a fairly relaxed person and, you had been in a committed relationship with a very loyal and amazing man.

A man, who was currently placing delicate kisses into the crook of your neck. A man, who could, in the same hour, make you laugh and cum so hard that you cried.

Your man.

He was yours.

“Jin...” You whispered, feeling slightly delusional as he began sucking on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Yeah?” His voice, low and slightly shaky sent jolts of arousal straight to your pussy, your hand beginning to tug him towards the steps.

“I want you in my mouth...”

Jin chokes on a cough as you slide your hand down the length of his torso, softly gripping his swollen length through his swim trunks.

“W...what?” He whispers, heart thrumming in his chest.

“I want you in my mouth...please? Can I?” You turn up the filth factor in your tone, nibbling on his ear, a weakness of his, as you coax him into your hand.

“Jesus...” He groans as you squeeze over him, just a little tighter, his length swelling as you do.  

“Please?” You whisper again, nuzzling against him, the swarm of desperation being brought on by uncharacteristic envy.

“You know you don’t have to beg...give my girl what she wants don’t I? If she wants dick in her mouth than, that’s exactly what’s she’s going to get.”

The timbre in his voice drives you crazy and, the next thing you know, he’s got you both on the steps. 

You bite your lip, admiring his toned body softly illuminated by the blue light of the pool, his black hair pushed back haphazardly...he notices your admiration and, he smirks, because he fucking loves it.

“You gonna get what you were begging for?” He challenges, brows rising as he moves to untie his board shorts, the tanned skin of his hardened length peeking out of the top of them.

You nod, eyes likely blown out completely with lust and determination.

Crawling over to him, you settle onto the second step, leaving some of your body submerged into the water. You brush your lips along his neck, before moving to place kisses over his collarbones, sucking lightly as you make your way down his body.  

Jin’s breathing grows slightly in intensity as you reach the hem of his trunks. You waste no time in easing them down his legs, letting his dick settle hastily against his stomach.

Looking up at him one last time, you return his smirk, licking over your lips as you take him into your hand, “I’m wanna make you cum...really hard.”

He chuckles darkly, thumb coming out to brush over your swollen lips,  

“You better get started then...”

That was all you needed.

You lean down, taking him into your mouth, your hand coming up to accompany the motions as you sucked on him. He groans deep in his chest, looking away momentarily because, the image of you between his legs is something he has never managed to get used to. You use your tongue to lick gently around the tip of him before your free hand comes up to cup his balls.

Sucking Jin’s dick was no easy feat as he boasts a jaw-aching 9 inches when he’s fully hard but, after 7 years together, you like to think you’ve perfected the art.

Jin seems to agree with you...

“Oh shit...you’re so good down there jagiya...you know that? Suck my dick so good...” He mutters the last bit through his teeth, his hips lifting with the motions of your mouth which were increasing with speed.

You squeeze him gently, your mouth and opposite hand squeezing and sucking him into a frenzy. He could feel it in his toes, his spine, he was overwhelmed. Jin couldn’t understand how you were so perfect at it, every damn time, willing him into shivering mess with just your mouth.

“Jagi....Y/N...” He moans deep in his chest going cross eyed momentarily as you begin to focus your lips on his swollen, sensitive tip. “How the fuck am I so close huh? You think after all this time...I’d be able to last in your mouth but, fuck....fuck me.”

His whine cuts off the rest of his sentence, his eyes squeezing shut as you take him down your throat, your hand still caressing and massaging his balls.

You were soaked, you could feel it.

Jin’s dick did that to you, in absolutely every context.

“I’m...fuck...you’re gonna make me cum jagi...I’m gonna cum so hard for you, just like you want huh? Gonna let me cum in your throat?” He growls desperately, hands tightening their grip in your hair as his toes begin to curl.  

You nod eagerly, sucking him faster, moaning in your throat so he can benefit from the vibrations.

“Swallow for me...swallow it please...”

His last request is honored, it always is. He cums so hard it fucks with his vision, his hips permanently pushed up for the time being as he empties himself into your mouth, panting your name as he does. You take everything he gives you but, you wait for a moment, tapping his thigh as he starts to come down.

Jin forces his eyes open, his vision still not a 100% but, he can see you between his legs, with your mouth open, tongue full of his cum.

You’re showing off for him and, make an emphasized sound as you swallow the entirety of him down.

That’s too much for him...

He grabs you then, bringing you up to his lips, kissing you sloppily, “God, I really love you.” He chuckles in disbelief, his brain too hazy to ask questions.

“I love you too...” You giggle into his mouth, still breathless as you push a hand through his hair.

It was silent for a moment as the two of you continue to kiss slowly at one another.

“Hey...” He mumbles against your mouth, a knowing smirk forming on his lips, “...that wasn’t brought on by what I told you earlier right?”

No, uh, not at all.

[kweebtrash]

forthenight (M)

Pairing: Johnny x Reader

Genre: stripper!Johnny, pwp, one shot

Summary: I literally just wanted to write cute smut about Johnny and he so happened to be a stripper with a heart of gold and a dick that would leave anyone wanting more.

Features: blowjobs/eating out, making out, grinding, one night stands, cute and kind of slow sex, slamming that headboard against the wall, reader is shy and awkward because lmao same

Word Count: 5.5k+

Masterlist

I sighed as I exited the club, grateful to be rid of the smell of sweat and spilled alcohol. My friend had decided it was a great idea to host her birthday party at a male strip club and she was already wasted. I didn’t like babysitting drunk people especially when they were starting to get obnoxious. I wanted to go home but also didn’t want to be a buzzkill. I decided that a few minutes outside might recharge my social battery and I could proceed to pretend I was having fun. I leaned against the rough brick of the building and let the semi cool night air wash over me. Though the music of the club was still blaring it was much quieter outside and I was able to feel a bit at peace.

My loneliness was interrupted as I heard the metal door open. A man stepped out in nothing but a leather jacket and tight jeans on, his deep chestnut hair slicked back with sweat. I recognized him as one of the dancers who had been grinding on my friend just an hour or so before. He was beautiful to say the least and I think I had shyly tucked a dollar bill into the skimpy underwear he had been wearing. I watched his long fingers snap at a lighter and ignite the end of a cigarette that dangled from his lips. He took a few puffs, exhaling a little at a time and propped himself against the wall similar to how I was. It was awkward being so close to him and not speaking but how did I speak to a stripper? I mean they were humans too and not just entertainers but I was afraid that I wouldn’t have anything interesting to say. Would I flirt with him? Or ask him about the weather? Both options seemed like they would lead me down the road to embarrassment.

“So, are you the bachelorette or the birthday girl?” He seemed to be reading my mind and thankfully started the conversation.

“Oh…neither actually. I’m with a birthday girl but just as support. Mostly being D.D. I guess.” I replied.

“Well that isn’t fun. Though not being a plastered idiot is a rarity here, it is appreciated.”

“I’m sure you get tired of the ones grabbing onto you without permission and getting too rowdy. That’s how my friend is now and I just needed a break from it all.”

He nodded and hummed in agreement. “Yeah once my set was done I needed a break. It’s too hot in the dressing room and I’m sweating my ass off.”

“Shouldn’t you take off your jacket then?”

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “So you are trying to see me naked.”

“No!No!” I said, my cheeks flushing vehemently. “I mean I have seen you mostly naked already but like… the leather would just make you hotter. It’s cooler out here.”

He chuckled and it was like melted chocolate, absolute music to my ears. “I’ll get there. So what are your plans for tonight?”

My eyes zoomed up to meet his. “W-what?”

“Are you going to stay here or go home? They can like take an uber.”

“Oh…as much as I would love too, I’d feel bad for leaving them. It looks like i’m stuck here for probably another hour or so. I’m hoping to chorale them.”

“And then after you get them home what are you going to do?”

I looked at him a bit confused but also curious. “Why do you want to know? Planning on following me and killing me?”

He flicked his finished cigarette away and stepped a bit closer to me, propping his hand against the wall. “No, of course not.” He shrugged. “Just that…you’re pretty cute.”

I rolled my eyes, believing that he was totally joking. “Yeah, right. I’m sure you’re literally required to say that to all your customers. I’m not special.”

“I think you are. What’s your name?”

I sighed. “Look, to be honest I don’t have that much more money for tips and I know you got a job to do. I don’t blame you at all but you don’t have to fake flatter me. It’s cool. I can ask my friends if they have more.”

“So, you think that all I want is money and to please women I don’t care about?” He said, eyes narrowing a bit.

I realized how poorly worded and offensive it came out. “N-no, i didn’t…i mean like…you’re an entertainer and I figured that’s what you were getting at. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He pushed himself off the wall and grabbed the door handle, ready to head back inside. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” Just as he was about to leave I moved towards him, setting my hand on his arm. 

“Wait,” I introduced myself. “What’s your name?”

“Johnny.”

“No, like your real name.” I giggled.

“Johnny.” He said again.

“Oh…fuck. Then what’s your stage name?”

“JSuh. It’s nothing extravagant.”

“JSuh? Aren’t you supposed to be like Honey Rumpshaker or something.”

He covered his mouth as soon as he started laughing. “What the fuck?! Who would be named that!!”

“I don’t know! The girl strippers are usually like Cinnamon and like Diamond Sparkle or whatever! I didn’t know if it was the same for guys!” I tried to hide my face as I now felt like a complete idiot.

“You are seriously cute. Not just because I’m paid to say that. I like girls that can make me laugh.”

“Oh…well I’ve proven that I can make a complete fool of myself, so laugh away.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I guess I better get back inside though. We’ve got like a finale set that we do so I’ve gotta get ready.”

I didn’t know if I should really ask but I jumped the gun anyway. “Wait…why were you interested in what I was doing after I dropped my friends off?”

He turned towards me fully and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, chuckling a bit. “I think you should know that already. And before you ask, no I don’t hook up with clients that often. It’s pretty rare actually but…” He shrugged. “I’m definitely attracted to you.”

“Soooo….you want a one night stand?” I asked. I always needed things spelled out for me when it came to any sort of flirting, relationships, hookups, anything. I was usually in disbelief that someone would give me the time of day thanks to my lack of confidence and I never imagined that a stripper would ever be asking me to hook up with him. But I found myself wondering what his lips felt like, what he tasted like, and how good he would feel inside me. From what I saw earlier while he was dancing everything seemed to create the illusion that he was good in bed, especially with those body rolls and floor grinds. I had never been jealous of a floor in my life but tonight was an exception. I swallowed my nerves and put on my front of confidence, accepting the fact that I was going to do something so brand new and out of my comfort zone. It was daring and exciting and I was definitely going to get my idiot friends home as fast as possible now.

“Yes? I figured you’d turn me down though, You seem like the goody two shoes type.”

“I am not!” I lied. “In fact, I’m down for it.”

His eyes widened in surprise but a sinful smirk crossed his lips. “What’s your number? I can text you whenever you’re done tucking your kids into bed.” Johnny pulled out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it over to me to input my number. I did and handed it back to him and he immediately called me.

“Why are you calling me?” I asked.

“So you have my number too. Just text me if you’re gonna blow me off at least.” He opened the door and held it open for me to walk through first.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure I won’t.” I placed a quick kiss on his cheek, unsure if that was even flirtatious enough. It seemed more childish than anything and I rushed back to my friends to grab them and get them home. There was no way I was going to let them ruin my fun now.

–

Getting them back to their respective houses was the biggest clusterfuck ever. I had to deal with puking, taking clothes off, screaming, and dragging them into bed so they wouldn’t fall asleep in the middle of the floor. Johnny was right, they were basically children and I was so ready to clock out from my babysitter shift. Once I was sure they weren’t going to choke on their vomit, I finally got home. It was late, almost past 2am and I wondered if Johnny would still want to come over. I was getting tired but my need to fall into lust was enough to send him a message to see if he was still interested. He didn’t answer right away and I didn’t expect him to but the suspense was killing me. I decided to shower to refresh myself. I reapplied some makeup so I could give the impression that I wasn’t half dead and tired. As I came back into my room I saw a few replies from Johnny and my heart thundered against my ribcage. He was ready to come over. He had finished his shift about an hour ago and went home to shower as well. It was a breath of relief and I texted him my address.

The wait seemed forever and I tried to calm myself from feeling too eager. Maybe it was the nerves that were taking over. I hoped I was good enough for him. It had been some time since I was last with someone; work, life, school, everything got in the way. I had no time for any relationship and instead focused on the important things in life. I did deserve at least one night of debauchery since the initial party for my friend was a bust to me. I flopped back on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. Shit, did I even still have condoms? I shot up and frantically ran to my dresser to see if the box was still there but there was a sudden knock on my door. I froze in panic as my brain shut down for a moment. I thought about continuing to look but I knew I would make a mess for sure. Obviously I still had to answer the door and the second round of raps shook me out of my funk. I sped over to it, fixing myself so I didn’t look frazzled and took a deep breath before opening the door.

His eyes raised up to meet mine and he pushed his hair back, the totally normal motion making my knees weak instantly. He wasn’t even wearing anything special, just a white t shirt and jeans, but for some reason it made him ooze sexiness and confidence. It could have been because I was more desperate than I thought or it could have been that he was actually bound to drive me crazy. “Hey.” He smiled, his perfect teeth shining between those plush lips. That voice got to me again and I wiped the sweat from my palms on my pajamas shorts.

“Hi.” I laughed nervously and stepped aside to let him in. He sauntered through the door frame and looked around at my apartment. He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and turned to face me.

“So…”

“So….um…” I figured he was going to take the lead being that he offered to do this in the first place. "Where do we start?”

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“What? Absolutely not.” Was I giving off that vibe? How did I show that I was a mostly experienced adult?

“Then what do you mean ‘where do we start?’ You know how this goes…” He wasn’t trying to be an asshole per say, but rather just confused and as tentative as I was.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some sex god or something?”

He snorted. “Oh my god, where did you possibly get that idea from? I’m a stripper, not a porn star.”

I wanted to facepalm myself. “I keep saying the wrong thing and I don’t mean to, I swear. I guess I’m just nervous.”

“I am too now that you think I’m supposed to be a sex god. Thanks for that by the way.” He smiled and nudged at me a little. He was trying to make me feel better and didn’t even seem to be judging me which I was thankful for.

“You don’t have to be a sex god, I promise. Just…” I set my hands on his chest and leaned into him, closing the space between us in mere seconds. His hands left his belt loops and instead held onto my waist, keeping me flushed against him. His lips were just as perfect as I imagined they would be- soft, warm, absolutely amazing at turning me on. He took his time too, exploring every inch of my lips in soft pecks and longer presses until he gave my bottom lip a light nip. My fingertips dug into his chest as I parted my lips, letting him carve out pleasures when our tongues collided. Each stroke and small suck against mine made my body ache more and more and I was already wanting to take him to my room. I was edging him back with careful steps, trying to guide him towards my room, but with my eyes closed and being distracted by his heated kisses, his thighs hit the armrest of my couch, sending him into the cushions with me on top of him. “Oh fuck!” I cried out.

He just laughed and adjusted himself, his entire body filling the length of the couch completely. “It’s cool. I’m a klutz too." 

"I’m sorry! I was trying to get you to my room and-”

“It’s fine,” he stopped me. “Let’s just stay here for a bit.”

I fiddled with my hair and nodded, hoping that I didn’t ruin the mood too much. I pushed along, trying to recover, and wiggled between his thighs. The center of his jeans seemed to be a bit more filled out than before. I set my hands on his waist, my fingers dancing around the button of his fly. I could feel him staring, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in an almost innocent way. He was waiting for me to snap out of my stupor and pull away the fabric that separated my mouth from him. I finally unbuttoned his jeans and edged the zipper down. He hooked his thumbs within the waistband and slid them down, moving his legs around me to get them off completely. My heart almost stopped when I saw the dark boxer briefs and what laid beneath them. “Jesus…” I whispered.

He grabbed my hand and guided me back to his lips, making me straddle him. The center of my shorts was flush against him now and I could feel the slight pressure against me. “I’ll only be as rough as you want me to be.” He whispered.

I combed my fingers through his soft hair, pushing it back slightly. “Don’t worry about me, I think I know what I want.”

“Then maybe you should lead and I’ll follow.”

I pressed my lips together and grabbed his hands to settle them back on my hips. I started rolling them, creating more friction between us like misguided teenagers trembling with the prospect of getting off. He kept control of the pace while I zeroed in on his lips again, diving my tongue in to feel his warmth and hunger. He let out a soft groan and pressed his fingers into my ass, increasing our speed ever so slightly. I kept my hold on his hair, curling my fingers and pulling every once in awhile and following it up with sweet scratches and caresses. He would respond to the pulls, bucking his hips and leaving me breathless. I parted from him to gulp down air and he took the opportunity to toss his shirt off. Now that I was able to touch him on my own and take my time I realized I wanted to toss caution to the wind and mark every single inch of him. I crept my kisses from his lips down to his neck, slipping my teeth beside his adam’s apple. He jerked away quickly.

“As much as I would love to, I can’t. No scratches, bites, or hickies.”

I pouted. “Well…that’s no fun.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Part of the job, but I can definitely do it to you. Leave a little calling card for you to remember me by.” He slipped his fingers under my tank top and nudged it up to my chest.

“You have to make it memorable first.”

“Oooohh, really now? That’s how it’s gonna be? I see how it is.” He said as he jerked my top upwards and I moved my arms out of it. “What’s the sudden change of attitude, hmm?” he teased.

I slid off him and started walking towards my bedroom, trying my best to entice him. “You gonna get over here or what?”

Johnny practically jumped off the couch and sprinted towards me, making me giggle. I tossed off my shorts and crawled onto my bed, pulling him to the edge. I placed kisses from his chest, down to his stomach and over the outline of his cock through his underwear. I heard him exhale above me and settle his large hand into my hair to keep me close. I peeled away his briefs and let him free, swallowing hard as I saw him fully. See him in that barely there outfit at the club left little to the imagination but seeing him hard and needy now had my stomach filled with fluttering butterflies. I gripped his base gently, guiding him to my lips. I poked my tongue out and licked around his head, dipping the tip into his slit. 

He let out a soft grunt and relaxed into my touches while I struggled to take down more of him. My mouth was already much too full but I hollowed out my cheeks as best I could, adding firm pulls to what my lips couldn’t reach. I could tell he was trying not to force his hips forward but the tension in his thighs gave away his struggle. With my free hand I traced up the length of his torso, gripping his firm pec and leaving behind the faintest of scratches. I didn’t mark him though I still wanted to. His hand came to rest over mine and I felt his lips against my fingertips. My eyes opened and I looked up at him surprised by the tenderness of his action. He only smirked and wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb when I released him. “Cute.” Was all he said.

My cheeks flushed at the praise and buried my face against him, concentrating on laying open mouth kisses and soft sucks to his balls. It seemed to elicit a pleased reaction as his hand gripped my hair harder and his breathing quickened. I took one between my lips and tugged against it with my tongue, giving generous licks in between. I paired it with steady massages and gropes, bringing him to rise on his tiptoes just a bit. He folded his fingers into mine while the hand in my hair shifted to grab onto my shoulder. I thought he was trying to support himself but instead I was pushed back flush against my mattress. He crawled between my legs and settled by the center of my thighs. Instead of giving me attention right away, he took his sweet ass time decorating my inner thighs with long kisses and shallow bites.

I noticed his hand was still tangled in mine and he was squeezing every so often, usually when his teeth sunk into me. My heart lurched at the warmth he generated and I could barely hold in the soft moans he was bringing out of me. He hadn’t even touched me where I needed him the most yet and I already was becoming all too greedy for my liking. He swerved around me once again and instead brought his kisses up my hips and to my stomach, laying bites by my ribcage. When he reached my chest there was no end to the attention he gave my nipples, bringing them between his teeth to nibble slightly or suck deeply to make my back arch against him. While I was distracted by the intense kisses his fingers managed to slip between my folds and explore how turned on I truly was.

I pressed my lips to the back of my hand to suppress a gasp when two of his lengthy fingers dove into me. He pumped them slowly at first, curling the tips every so often and exploring sections inside me to see what would give me the most pleasure. My own fingers trembled as they wrapped around my bed sheets. I was desperate to find a way to calm myself; there wasn’t any reason to let go so soon. I wanted to savor every moment I had with him. It felt so good to have someone else touch me after so long that I never wanted it to end. His touches were pure energy and I had forgotten all about my tiredness and instead focused every thought I had on the way the first dip of his tongue rolled over me.

My hips squirmed against him and he settled an arm over my waist to keep me in place. It didn’t phase him at all and he continued coaxing more of my wetness out of me and working soft circles against my clit. He mixed in heated kisses and flicks and I finally moaned out his name, louder than I would’ve ever thought possible. He practically growled into me, yanking the back of my thighs to sit on his shoulders and letting his tongue take over where his fingers were seconds before. My toes curled against the center of his back while he seemed perfectly content having my thighs quiver around his head. He pulled out of me and switched to long licks from my entrance to my clit, hungrily carving out new ungodly tremors of pleasure within me. I rolled myself against his tongue, meeting every lick and silently begging for him to eat me out until my mind went numb.

He set a gentle kiss on my clit and I could feel him trying to edge away. My hand dug deep into his locks and kept him close, pleading for him to continue. He chuckled, the soft puffs of air adding to my sensitivity, and took my hand in his. “I promise I’ll be right back.”

I groaned and tossed my head back onto my pillow, wondering what was so important that he needed to stop just when it was getting to the good part. I realized that he was most likely getting a condom and almost kicked myself. Well, duh, idiot. I adjusted myself in bed, contemplating getting under the covers or not. I pulled them to my chest just as he came back and sat in front of me. “Why are you hiding from me now, hmm?” He teased with a gentle smile on his face.

“I’m not hiding.” I lied. “It’s just a little brisk now, with the window open and all.”

“Mhm, brisk. Sure.” He pulled the blanket away from me and slipped between my legs. “How about you hold onto me instead? I don’t need you trying to cover up anymore.”

I bit my lip and bowed my head towards his chest in an attempt to hide. I settled my arms around his neck while he rolled on the condom and pulled me close. Our eyes caught each other for a moment and we exchanged small smiles before we met again for a slow kiss. As he baited me with his perfect lips, his hand moved between us, guiding him towards my entrance. He pressed in slowly, stopping as he heard me wince a bit. “Are you…okay?”

I nodded and shifted beneath him. “S-sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m pretty patient and can go all night.”

“Oh…”

He chuckled nervously. “I didn’t mean for that to come out as cocky as it sounded.”

I eased my hips down onto his tip, flexing my walls against his girth. “W-well, if you can live up to that then I’m all for it.”

He set his hands on my hips and pushed in deeper, inch by inch until he disappeared inside me completely. I clutched onto him tighter, curling my legs around his back. He placed kisses across my cheek and towards my ear. “I can live up to it.”

The first few thrusts were slow and steady, getting me used to his girth that seemed to stretch me more than I was prepared for. I guess going for so long without any physical connection with someone made it a bit difficult for him to plow me into oblivion like I wanted. I closed my eyes and let him cover my neck with kisses and bites that trailed to my breasts. His tongue rolled over my nipple again, gathering it between his lips and letting out a soft moan. The sound of his arousal vibrated through me and I clutched at him tighter. “Please,” I begged. “M-more.”

His hips snapped then, a rush of pulling out almost completely and forcing his way back in to make my body arch against his. I rolled my hips in time with his thrusts, burying my moans into his chest. His hands curled around my waist, lifting me slightly to work himself deeper. My legs tensed as he hit where I needed him the most. The slight curve of his cock pressed into my walls, every contour and vein adding onto my impending orgasm. I wanted to hear more of his soft pants and groans that decorated my chest. He bit into the swell of my breast slightly and I grabbed a chunk of his hair, tugging hard and blaring out that he had hit something so beautifully electrifying within me.

I was trying desperately not to mark him, my fingers flexing to stop my reflexes. I tried to keep them in his hair. He seemed to add a particularly hard snap of his hips when I pulled, a delicious and quiet moan coating my ear. He was buried beside my head, not looking at me any further but I wanted to see how perfect those honey brown eyes looked when they were filled with lust for me. I grabbed his chin and forced him to me, pressing our foreheads together and reaching my tongue out to slide into his mouth again. To my surprise he lifted me then, keeping inside me as he trapped me between the wood of my headboard and his body. He gripped the top of it while he plunged rougher than before. My throat was starting to feel just a bit tender from moaning out his name so much but this was driving me wild.

My legs splayed to the side as the wood clattered against my wall with each rock of the frame. My breath was barely able to escape my lungs as my body clenched around him, tight and suffocating as I needed him at that perfect spot. He took the hint and focused on it, working through my clamped walls until one final thrust sent me over the edge. My knees dug into his sides as my body tensed in pleasure and he seemed unfazed by it all. He kissed me hard, digging his free hand into my hair and pulling me close. His blunt nails burrowed into my scalp as my hips felt so utterly tainted with bruises. He was ruining me, all in the name of getting off and I craved to feel his warmth within me.

He let out a harsh curse, shoving the headboard back hard and stilling within me. I felt the throbbing and the flow of him emptying into me. His torso trembled just a little and he went back to his safehaven of my neck, that unexpected shyness returning. It was strange that he could practically ruin my bed yet hide from me. Just like he hadn’t wanted me to cover up before I wanted to see the flushed look on his golden skin. I nudged him towards me for a few gentle kisses that bought out a cute and dorky smile that made my heart fumble to keep a perfect rhythm.

“What do you have against my headboard?” I teased.

“Well currently, you.” He smirked. “Seems like you enjoyed it.”

“Very much so.” He surprisingly kissed my forehead before he pulled out, rolling off the condom and tossing it into the nearest trash can.

“Do you mind if I have a smoke?”

I shook my head as I crumpled down to the mattress, wanting to rest my sore body. “Have at it, hun.”

He smiled and got out of bed while I closed my eyes and fell asleep faster than I had intended.

–

I rubbed my eyes and yawned deeply, annoyed at the bright sunlight spilling through my blinds. I had forgotten to close them last night as I was letting fresh air in and regretted it. I propped myself onto my elbows and noticed a heaviness beside me. Johnny was face down, buried in a pillow with his limbs splayed everywhere. I didn’t expect him to stay over but it was a little endearing that he did. I gave him a soft kiss between his shoulder blades and got up from bed, pulling on the robe that was hanging on the back of my bedroom door. Coffee was a necessity and I worked to brew a pot as fast as possible. It was only a few minutes into me deciding what I wanted for breakfast that I heard the creaking of my kitchen tiles. Johnny was standing in the door, a sleepy look still on his face and hair an absolute mess.

He had tossed on his jeans carelessly and yawned loudly. “I didn’t mean to stay over, so sorry about that.” His voice was still raspy with sleep.

“Don’t worry about it.” I bite my lip and reintroduced myself, figuring he might have thought I was unmemorable.

He gave me a confused look. “Trust me, I remember. I don’t think I could actually forget.” His attention turned towards the coffee pot. “Mind if I have some before I go?”

I quickly grabbed a mug from my cabinet and poured him a cup. “How do you take it?”

“Black is fine.” He took the cup from me and blew over the liquid a few times before taking a sip.

I scrunched my nose up in disgust. “I don’t know how you do that.”

He shrugged. “Use to it I guess. I have plenty of long nights.”

“Ahh, right the dancing, duh.”

“That’s only on the weekends and a day or two during the week. Mostly I stay up all night grading.”

“Grading?” My interest peaked. “You’re a teacher?” I was definitely surprised.

“Mhm, well student teacher getting my hours in. I teach photography at the art college downtown.”

“Holy shit.” I whispered. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! I just…”

“Yeah not all strippers want to do this for the rest of their lives, you know. I want to quit soon but I just need the money to keep up with bills. It started as a joke but I had a friend at the club and he roped me in. Been doing it for a couple years now.”

“Wow, that’s…that’s really cool actually. The photography thing. I mean the dancing is cool too! I’m sorry. I’m still half asleep but always an idiot.”

He chuckled. “Nah, you’re totally fine. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” I almost turned away to hide my blush like a schoolgirl at the playground. He set the mug down on the counter and sighed. “I should be heading out now.”

“O-oh, right. That.” I didn’t want him to leave but I had to understand that this wasn’t a fairy tale and he wasn’t going to be my prince charming. “It was nice meeting you.”

Johnny bit his lip then chuckled a bit. “Definitely. Don’t lose my number ok?” He left the kitchen then, heading back to the living room to finish getting dressed. Did he want to hook up again? I wanted to ask him directly but the front door opened and shut before my brain could make my body move. I sighed as I rested back against the wall. Maybe for the night he was some sort of prince charming…or at least a sex god.

[phoebehalliwell]

I loved your cataloguing all of prue’s potential kids!! Like the detail that went into it is *chef kiss* I can’t wait to see what story you come with with Sheridan and Warren! Also, that post got me thinking, what do you think would have happened had Andy become a whitelighter and come back? How do you think that would have effected his and Prue’s hypothetical kids? Like would one of them been the twice-blessed do you think?

it’s 2.2k under the cut bc idk how to shut up

okay so for a whitelighter!andy & prue i think The Move would be like in the s3 finale the source has tempus reverse time but then like idk knocks out leo or whatever because he knows that without him there both prue and piper will die from their injuries what he doesn’t know is that there’s a certain other whitelighter who will watch from the fringes check in but not interfere for risk of being caught going against the rules but when he sees piper and prue inches from death and no way leo can get to them in time, andy has to make a choice. he has to heal them. oh but now we have the elders all pissy because whitelighters are only supposed to work with their own charges their not supposed to run around freelance healing other people’s charges that’d be chaos so clearly there needs to be some consequences and andy’s ready to like gracefully take whatever’s dealt out to him and prue’s like I Think The Fuck Not and like goes to bat for andy talking about how she would have been dead without him how the charmed ones would be gone without him really rains hell down on the elders so they’re like ᵒᵏᵃʸ ᶠᶦⁿᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵉ ʷᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵖᵘⁿᶦˢʰ ʰᶦᵐ ᶦᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ʳᵘᵈᵉ blah blah blah so prue and andy talk in the heavens and it’s sorta awkward at first bc prue’s like so. you’re not dead. that’s good. bc you know. you’re not dead. and andy’s like yeah. but like he’s reading the subtext here bc he Knows prue and she’s saying i’m so happy your alive but i’m really hurt that you never told me. that i mourned you and thought you were gone forever but you weren’t you were right there. and andy’s not entirely sure what to say bc like. what was he supposed to do. and he understands how prue feels but he couldn’t have just orbed in like hi i’m a whitelighter and you’ll never see me again it was better for prue to mourn and move on so she that had a shot at happiness but now he’s face to face with her and what i thought it would be better for you? it sounds hollow so instead of trying to explain himself he just says the first thing that comes to mind i never stopped loving you and he’s ready to orb back into the ether or whatever bc while the elders won’t punish him for saving prue & piper they’re still not jazzed and he’s still not allowed to interact with them when prue kisses him and tell him like i lost you once i’m not about to do it again marry me. and like they’re married within the hour bc by now the charmed ones have done this before they can do it on a speed round mode and the elders are like hey we said- and prue’s like sorry i can’t hear you over the sound of holy matrimony suck my balls blah blah blah like end season 3 i’m not sure when prue would have her first child though and if it would predate wyatt bc like. y’know her career’s still very much in its early stages she’s still on the up & up and her and andy haven’t actually like been together in a minute so there’s a lot of catching up to do whereas like piper and leo have consecutively been together longer she’s owned p3 longer than prue’s been a photographer so she’s already p locked in on that & she can do her job sitting down which is a plus. so i think in a whitelighter andy au wyatt will still be born first but patricia will be born within the same year, maybe six months after wyatt and i don’t think wyatt would really be like the twiced blessed bc like patricia would be Right There and he’s just no longer special enough to really warrant a prophecy y’know? i also think in this au it would take longer for prue and andy to move out bc y’know like again they just got andy back but i think she would still be out of the house by the end of season four beginning of season five ish i also think like the thing they really didn’t consider is that their kid’s gonna be half whitelighter so when piper’s like yeah have you vomited orbs yet lmao prue’s like wait. especially bc like andy’s only been a whitelighter for like a year or two and they’re both like oh word what does this mean and like they have leo and sorta piper to answer their questions but it’s sorta like they’ve got this vibe that no matter what happens like we’re in this together we have each other’s back we can do anything real power couple vibe they’re very like sappy like they’re aware they’re sappy & they’re not gonna stop.

& then a bit on sheridan & warren bc in the specific au i’m gonna write them in it still starts the same as it did here but i am keeping prue’s canon death in s3. and so like s4 the twins are still toddlers and i think piper and phoebe would still offer to watch them on like weekdays or whatever bc they still have a bedroom in the manor and jack still sorta lives in a bachelor pad and like the kids do have magic powers and jack definitely is there more and shows up more bc those are his kids and one day he shows up and there’s a demon attack and he like knew prue fought demons but he had never y’know. been in the line of fire so to speak and he’s like does this happen a lot and piper’s like yeah sort of and phoebe’s like there’s no need to worry warren and sheridan are totally safe here and jack’s like really because the scorched wallpaper begs to differ and piper’s like we understand your panic but like we can keep them safe and jack’s like no i don’t think you understand my panic those are my sons they’re my only kids and they’ve already lost prue i’m not. i’m taking them with me. and like the girls get where he’s coming from (paige is also here she just doesn’t really know jack so she’s hanging out with leo in the kitchen like 😐) basically they bind warren & sheridan’s powers and phoebe modifies the dominus trinus (now the dominus dualis ig) and tells jack that when they’re ready this will give them their magic back. and so like he moves them into his place but it’s not built for kids and so he’s on the hunt for a new place but also like a new jobs bc like bucklands blows without prue and almost everything there reminds him of her and he really just needs a fresh start so when he gets a job offer in japan he packs his bags & the three of them are off and then it’s like maybe four years in japan and then we’ll say he goes to new york and that lasts maybe two years and now warren and sheridan are like in elementary school and he knows the hopping from place to place isn’t like good for them and he really needs to settle down for a place that’s gonna be like Home and he knows he has to return to san francisco. so 2007 he’s back in san francisco he does not cross paths with the halliwells again and he sorta feels like he should bc like sheridan & warren Are Witches that’s like part of who they are and like he and prue had agreed before that they would raise them with magic because prue wishes she had known she was a witch she had always thought that had she had come earlier to the craft she could have done more good maybe not lost as many people and jack knows he has to unbind their magic eventually especially bc that was what prue wanted and like prue was always right but like. fuck dude. his kids were wizards. witches, whatever. like how is he supposed to raise kids with magic. like should he just go back to the manor and be like hi raise my magic kids for me he doesn’t want to do that those are his kids he doesn’t want to dump them off somewhere much less the place where their mom died so basically he keeps postponing it he keeps blowing it off and the kids are growing up normal & safe but still it’s gnawing at him bc it’s not what prue wanted and he doesn’t want to send them into the world unprepared and like sheridan & warren are like sixteen now and he’s like fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. what am i doing what am i gonna do i don’t know a goddamn thing so he’s like fuck it. hi god it’s me jack. i don’t believe in you and i don’t really believe in praying but here i am on my knees bc i’m lost. i think i’ve fucked up but i don’t know how to make it better, i want to do the right thing but i don’t even know what that is, would love some like. guidance. or something. i guess. and he like waits because like magic is real so like. hey god. do something please. and nothing happens and he’s like whatever this is why i never went to church blah blah blah That Night he dreams he’s at p3, which is weird because it’s been closed for like eight years and jack hasn’t thought about it in like twice that long but that’s where he is. and it’s like empty and a bit messy like there’s been a concert but now it’s late and everyone’s gone home. everyone except him, and the raven haired woman at the bar. prue. and listen jack doesn’t cry okay he doesn’t saw marley and me and like didn’t even sniffle (lie, he cried) but he sees prue and well uhh he’s crying a lil bc like fuck. he misses her. and he misses her confidence and the way she always seemed to have the right answer and could always manage to save the day and he misses her. and he’s like i hope you’re here to answer my prayers and she smiles at him bc he’s always so glib and stupid and it drives her up the wall but she still loves it about him and she’s like actually, i am. and idk she talks with him and quells his fears and he’s like how do i even bring that up to them he guys you’re wizards -witches. yeah that. like how do i even broach that. and prue’s like get the spell. and be ready. and she just sorta vanishes and he’s like cool are you gonna save the day like you always do but he can already feel she just isn’t there anymore and he’s like okay :/ and he wakes up and it’s like three am and he wants to go back to bed the whole magic thing is just niggling at the back of his mind so he gets out of bed and hunts down his old briefcase he had from all the way back at bucklands and finds just like a blank unlabelled folder and takes a deep breath and in it are some old photos of prue and him from the 90s and a thick folded up piece of paper with a torn edge and he carefully unfolds it and in like a really nice script is the unbinding spell and then like warren and sheridan are like dad? why are you awake right now and he’s like why are you awake right now? and they twins sorta share a look and warren’s like weird dream and sheridan’s looking over his dad’s shoulder and sees the pictures of prue and is like is this mom? and he takes the pictures and jack’s like yeah those are from. they’re from a long time ago. and sheridan and warren are looking at these pictures and like they wanna ask something but aren’t sure how to say it so jack goes first and he’s like your mom wanted you to have this and hands them the spell and they’re like what. is this? and he’s like its a spell. to unbind your powers. magic powers. i know i should have told you earlier and i’m sorry but i- are ghost real? what? like. can dead people... y’know... and jack breaks into a smile bc he’s so glad that they actually got to like. meet prue. have at least one memory of her. and so sheridan and warren take the spell and are like. so do we read it? and jack’s like idk i’m not a witch yeah i guess so y’know  hear now the words of the witches, the secrets we hid in the night. the oldest of gods are invoked here. the great work of magic is sought. in this night and in this hour, i call upon the ancient power. bring your powers to we brothers two, we want the power, give us the power. and like the apartment shakes and idk the lights flicker and the brothers are like cool. now what. and jack’s like i don’t know. guess we’ll find out.

[halorocks1214]

roa: side stories - the good, the bad, and the hydrofoil

AO3 Link

Word Count: 5423

Summary: Gordon just wanted to spend time with his dad, even if it meant fake smiles and boring conference parties. He didn’t want to think about his traumatizing past, especially not during a hostage negotiation.

AO3 Series Link

oh my god i really just vomited this out. holy crap. i originally was planning to write, like, all of the character parts before i started this no lie. ‘side stories’ was really supposed to be a tiny bow on top of a nicely wrapped gift, buuuut then shit started happening and i felt crappy and just needed to do what i do best and beat the fuck out of fictional characters. hope you enjoy this one! i sure as hell did lmao

Warnings for mentions of minor suicidal idealization

Gordon hated tuxedos.

They were stingy, uptight and physcially tight things that made him look like he was some asshole snob that complained when the champagne wasn’t the right temperature. He would rather wear his awesome shirts or cool tennis shoes any day of the week, also, did he mention these things were tight? Holy cow did his threaten to choke him more than once tonight, and if you made a drinking game based on how many times he readjusted his collar you would need to go to the fucking hospital.

He felt this was important to bring up because the damn thing was choking him, again, but he couldn’t adjust it like he wanted to because he didn’t want to look like a dumbass to all the eyes that were on him suddenly. He wanted to hang out with his father and they both promised to be on their best behavior. Gordon can’t help but wonder if he messed up somehow if his dad’s horrified face was anything to go by.

Gordon hated tuxedos because they had to be the reason he was choking right now. Not the man holding an AK at his face, or the men doing something similar to the other guests. The guests and his father were watching him with beady eyes because he was sweating like a dumbass monkey in a rental bowtie, not because the leader was simultaneously glaring at him while eyeing him down like a piece of meat.

Seriously, suits suck.

Hahaha.

Fuck.

Gordon shoved his hand further out in front of him, “Guuuuuuys, please. I’m sure we can talk about this like reasonable adults--”

The man jutted his gun further out like Gordon did his hand, not budging in the slightest, “Yes, Mr. Adult, I want to speak with you specifically. My boys and I here weren’t expecting there to be a huge party at this establishment right as we robbed it, must have been a last-minute planned one, so we need some extra help getting out of here. You, boy, seem to be our best bet.”

Jeff, in all of his fatherly grace, tried jumping past the two men keeping all the guests at bay, “Leave him out of this you animals!”

Gordon glanced over at his father with a look of indignation in a way that said Really?! You’re gonna do this now?! Rolling his eyes and hoping his dad got the message, Gordon gave the leader one of his best ‘IR Operative Smiles’, “Please, ignore my--”

“Augustine Holland Puckett.”

And there went that grin for the rest of the night.

Gordon found himself choking again, and he couldn’t even blame his outfit. He knew that name. Now he had a look of fear on his face, and he made sure to not look at his father right this moment. His trembles were small, but damn if they weren’t obvious. So not representing IR well right now, panicking in the middle of a job, heh.

Puckkie was his partner during WASP.

The only other partner in crime Gordon had outside of Alan.

Virgil had met him one time when visiting Gordon, made an offhanded comment about how Puckkie could have been his long lost twin.

Gordon scraped through his accident. It fucking sucked, but he eventually started living again.

Puckkie was dead on impact, never suffered, never was in pain. It was one of the few solaces Gordon had throughout all of his bullshit therapy.

The leader was oblivious to that turmoil, assuming it was just because Augustine was freaking out over his identity being known, “You thought you could escape us, huh? Got into WASP, thought the military could protect you, as well as some facial surgery along with it. Thought you could leave your past behind, right? We might have dropped tabs on you when you got accepted, but we always knew where you were.”

How in the fucking coincidence-- Gordon was suddenly aware of some horrifying truths. Puckkie, you little shit, is that why you knew how to lockpick? The fuck? If they never thought to look Puckkie up after they knew he joined it at least explained why they didn’t know the man was fucking dead--

The man suddenly barked, and Gordon felt ten times smaller than before, “Answer me!”

“Yes!” Gordon snapped before he could help himself. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He could easily tell them they were wrong, that he was Gordon Cooper Tracy, his father right over there could prove it, but he was playing along. At the same time his mind was telling him he was an absolute fucking dumbass, the other was telling him that he could save these people. He might not be the person they were expecting, but he was in WASP. He knew how to do what they probably wanted.

Jeff, however, didn’t know what he knew, which didn’t help at all, “What? No, Gor--”

Right before his real name could be spoken out, one of the henchmen got tired of this man being rowdy. Before Gordon could blink or send another nonverbal shut the fuck up to his dad, Henchman #1 raised the butt of his gun and brought it down, knocking Jeff out cold.

“HEY!” Rage filled Gordon’s veins before he could help it. Not only did he just watch his father get beaten, who knew what that one hit could cause. He’s been back for a few months, but they could never be too careful. Could never avoid a repeat of the Zero-X enough.

The leader didn’t like how Augustine was fighting back, “Excuse me? Why do you give a shit about that man?”

Gordon’s stomach was turning inside out and doing somersaults in his gut. His hands were back down to his sides, fists clenched as his shaking was from a mixture of barely controlled anger and terror, “Don’t beat up the civilians, sir. They haven’t done anything.” Don’t let your true relations show too much. They will abuse that weakness until it doesn’t exist anymore.

The leader simply smirked at the display, “Ah, trying to play protector, are we? Fine, here’s a deal: you come with us quietly and help us escape, and we’ll leave these poor hapless civilians alone. Sound good?”

Gordon felt like he swallowed a giant rock. With sweat dripping down his face at the speed of bullets, he rapidly nodded.

With that response, the leader was suddenly in Gordon’s bubble and gripping his upper arm, shoving the gun under his chin, “Now then, we’re right next to the bay, as well as right next to a hydrofoil dock. That’s our exit.”

The man tried yanking Gordon alongside him, and, for the most part, was successful. He just probably wasn’t expecting to drag such a deadweight. As soon as the word ‘hydrofoil’ was said, Gordon blanked and his ears were ringing. He was subconsciously aware that was what they wanted him to do, but to actually hear it… God, the last time he even thought about touching one was when he and Puckkie were asked to test them. Then he ended up in the hospital for a couple of months, followed by the chair of utter helplessness.

Hell, Gordon was so out of it he wasn’t aware of when the salty air started blowing his hair in every direction, nor the actual vehicle getting closer and closer. The leader gave him a shove, which was enough to give the strawberry blonde clarity to hear his next order, “You get in first, don’t think about running off.”

Gulping, Gordon shakily made his way into the vessel. He looked over at the cockpit and felt a jolt of electricity rush through him. Before he could think about what this all meant, the gun was jutted into his back roughly, “Get moving, August. If we get out of this alive we might consider letting you back in.”

The men’s evil chuckles did absolutely nothing to ease his frazzled mind. He wasn’t even sure how he heard them to begin with. The blood rushing to his ears was as loud as the sea outside, and the ringing his mind was making only minorly quieted since it started.

Another jut of the gun, “Move.”

Juggling the empty air in his hands out of panic, he was suddenly in the seat with the steering wheel, the leader’s AK-47 poking the back of his neck just a little bit more than he would’ve liked. He aggressively took off the jacket part of his suit and ripped off his bowtie for maximum flexibility, leaving only his suspenders over his dress shirt.

He wasn’t sure how he remembered as much as he did, but he wasn’t even thinking as he flipped the switches and turned all the knobs to get this baby roaring. Muscle memory, what a finicky beast. The boat was suddenly purring, and it brought a strange mixture of relief and horror to Gordon’s ears.

Brushing his hands over the top of the steering wheel, he shakily gripped the circle of rubber and exhaled. He was here now and there was no going back. They all sat with bated breath, but before Gordon took off, he managed a cheeky smile as he turned around ever so slightly, “So, about that weather?”

The tip of the gun brushed his nose, “You think this is funny?”

Gordon flinched in on himself and refocused on the world outside, “O-Okay, geez. Tough crowd...”

And with that, they were moving. It was slow going at first, Gordon had to get re-used to the sensitivity of such a craft, but the leader wasn’t happy with it, “Hey, are you stalling?”

Gordon barely heard the question, “W-What? No, I just--”

The leader was as up in his face as much he could be without obstructing his vision to the outside, “Then why the hell are you driving like my mother is the one behind the wheel?”

Where the hell was Gordon getting his bite from? And why was it only coming now? “Dude, I promise to get you out of here, but if I start pushing it now we could break something. Hell, we’re still in the harb--”

Damn, don’t poke his eye out with that gun if you want him to see to drive, asshole, “I don’t care. At this rate, we’re practically sitting ducks. Start moving it or we can dump your body with one bullet hole in it for them to find instead.”

Gordon was left no choice but to listen. The hydrofoil was gunning it as they exited the docks, the already huge and vast sea getting bigger and bigger.

Henchman #1 was whooping in excitement, “Woah, look at this baby go!”

Henchman #2 was utterly seasick, “God, why did you want to join this branch…”

The leader groaned. He must be used to working with idiots, “Both of you shut your asses up and let little August here do his job.”

Gordon was going to retort with something to lighten the dark cloud in his mind, to make these guys regret forcing him to help them by being an annoying little shit, but instead, he took one teensy moment to blink, and with it, a GDF ship was in their way, them careening right towards it.

The three robbers were screaming behind him. Gordon autopiloted to try and dodge, but it wasn’t enough. They crashed right into the side, stopping them in their tracks.

What really happened was that Gordon’s attempt to dodge was enough to make the vehicle only scrape the side of the boat for a few seconds, the friction slowing it down. The hydrofoil and the gigantic ship were parallel-ly touching one another, both sitting as still as they could in the crazy waves of the ocean.

But Gordon didn’t know that. All he knew was that he crashed.

Was this it?

Would he be able to walk? Would there be more therapy?

Or were his hopes dashed? You could only have one miracle a lifetime after all.

“--et him go! Put down your wea--”

“--re not suicidal! Let us leave and may--”

Oh God, everything hurt.

His spine, his chest, his arms that gripped the parallel bars.

All the poking and prodding and scraping and surgery-- he can’t do it again. He can’t.

“--ot breathing! Jesus, let him g--”

“--ts his problem, not ou--”

The only thing he couldn’t feel were his damn legs, the most important limbs he had.

God, he was useless. No more swimming. No more running away after a prank.

It would’ve been better if he was the one that died.

“--t an oxygen mask! Quickly! Gor--”

“--ght away, sir! You heard the ma--”

Dammit, he wanted his dad.

His dumb, stubborn father who was dead like Gordon should be.

His father could fix anything, even this mess, yet he was gone, out of this world, never to return again--

“--sus, Squirt. Gordon, hey--”

Hands and arms were suddenly gripping him, laying him down on gravely ground, except these arms were familiar. Safe and warm. Gordon gained enough clarity to at least see who was holding him. The sight made him choke even more.

Dad.

He wasn’t dead, he was right here. Regardless if he could make it better, Gordon just wanted to see him again. Hallucination or not, he was going to abuse this moment till the end. Springing up from his back, he wrapped his arms around his father and held on tight. His fingernails were sharp, he forgot to clip them last week (couldn’t worry about clipping them when he needed to focus on walking again), so he was probably causing an ungodly amount of discomfort in his father’s back, but he just couldn’t help but feel everything in front of him.

Meanwhile, Jeff just simply returned the favor, keeping his arms around Gordon in an attempt to ground his son. He wasn’t sure what he was wincing over, his son ripping the skin off his back through his shirt or the way he just wouldn’t stop sobbing. Gordon was practically screaming in his arms and there was nothing he could do except try and squeeze him back to reality.

Eventually, the squad of GDF soldiers was back with an oxygen mask and a hypodermic needle. The highest-ranking one gestured toward the needle, “It’s your decision, sir.”

Jeff could barely think over the way his son was losing it in his arms. He was going to snap himself if he had to listen to the heartbreaking noise any longer. He placed his chin on Gordon’s head, jaw clenching in emotional pain, “Do it.”

It was a blur what happened next. All Jeff was sure about was that the squad got to work as he told them to. It hurt as Gordon was taken from his arms, his sobs getting worse at the loss of contact. Still holding his hand, Jeff grimaced at the way Gordon tried finding him again, “D-Dad, no--” he cried out, and he only got more hysterical at the sight of the needle coming toward his arm.

God, he was a terrible father.

Holding Gordon down, they were finally able to give his son the sedative and slip the oxygen mask over his face. Tear tracks were dripping down his face, the snot tracks not much better, but at least his eyes were closed, and the constant murkiness of the oxygen mask reminded Jeff that Gordon was still breathing, albeit very heavily.

The next few hours were an even worse blur. At some point, paramedics came and put his son on a stretcher. He doesn’t really need a hospital, but we’re being safe. Unless you object? Jeff remembered blearily shaking his head no, not letting go of Gordon’s hand at all, not even as they situated him in a private hospital room.

Now Jeff wasn’t holding his hand. The hospital had insisted on checking out the father’s head, which he begrudgingly let them do, but as soon as they were done, he was right back in his son’s room waiting for him to wake up, This time, however, he was afraid to regrip his son’s hand. As if Gordon were fragile, made of glass.

The thought made Jeff chuckle. Gordon? Fragile? No way in hell.

The chuckles ever so slowly turned into sobs before Jeff could help himself.

He’s cried a lot since being back on Earth when learning what his sons have been up to. Crushing hugs given to his no-longer kids in the spur of the moment, but as selfish as it was, he never remembered outright sobbing at any of the admissions of horrors.

At least, not until right now.

---

Each brother had a turn to watch over Gordon, even Alan, who had the excuse of still being able to do homework in a hospital room, but now it was Scott’s round to brave the uncomfortableness of these damn chairs.

He was reading one of those awful gossip magazines to get a good laugh. What could he say, some of the shit they came up with was priceless. The laughter distracted him from everything that threatened to take over his mind. His despair at Gordon’s physical state, his rage at The Chaos Crew for causing this: he read something about the latest Bachelor of the Year’s secret weight loss trick and forgot all about it.

It was as peaceful as the situation could be, that is until Scott heard moaning from the bed.

Subconsciously gripping the magazine a little tighter, probably leaving permanent creases, Scott slowly looked up with wide eyes, and he meant slowly. Some bleak part of his mind hoped that if he took long enough what he was expecting to see wasn’t actually happening. Too bad, it was.

Gordon was laying in his hospital bed (as if he could go anywhere else), bandages and casts adorning just about 90% of his body. What made this sight different was the glassy, whited-out eyes to go with his white medical garments. Scott was pretty sure Gordon would be shaking his head even more if there wasn’t a neck brace in the way, “No… can’t… stop… no feeling… anything…”

Dammit dammit dammit-- worst older brother ever.

Shooting out of his chair but carefully meandering to his little brother’s bedside, trying not to scare him any more than he was, Scott gulped as he tried bringing his brother back to planet Earth, “Hey, buddy… it’s going to be okay. You’re not…” That word shouldn’t be dirty, why was it dirty? “Paralyzed... You’re in a lot of pain, and you’re gonna need a lot of rest, but you won’t need therapy.” Not this time, thank God.

For a second, Scott thought he did it. Gordon’s eyes were still glassy, but his eyebrows were more creased in a way that said he was thinking about something, not in that way that said he was in pain. Scott inhaled, but then choked on that breath as he watched Gordon’s crease immediately go back to the latter kind, “No, I can’t… not here… please… no more…”

Gordon hated hospitals ever since WASP and Scott was an absolute fool for not thinking that it would come down to this.

Taking a deep breath and leaning back away from his brother, Scott panickedly pulled out his watch and conceded, “John, fuck, help me out.”

The ginger shook his head and blinked. He was about to try and joke, after all, Scott called him rather abruptly, but then he saw the way Scott was practically disheveled and got serious, “Okay, what’s the situation?”

Scott ran a hand through his hair, “Shit, it’s Gordon. He’s stuck in a pretty bad flashback of some sorts and it seems like I’m not making it very far, or maybe I’m not trying hard enough. God, fuck, I’m awful, I just can’t--”

“Woah, okay, back that right up, Scott,” John held his hands in a surrender position. The last thing anybody needed was two brothers deep in a panic attack, “First of all, you’re not awful, pretty sure seeing Gordon in that state would freak anybody else out, you just have the added benefit of knowing that it feels like absolute shit, and second of all, back to the important thing you literally called me for: is he struggling in a way that is hurting himself or destroying his surroundings?”

Scott swallowed the metaphorical rock in his throat. He knew John was probably reciting stuff he and Virgil did for the eldest when he had an attack and he hated it, but John didn’t need to know that, “N-No, he’s just glassy-eyed and can’t hear a damn thing I’m saying.”

John sighed. Or maybe hissed. Scott wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to really find out. The astronaut explained, “Alright, this is going to suck a lot, but the only thing you can do is watch Gordon and make sure he doesn’t break himself or anything around him. If you’re feeling lucky, you can maybe touch him if you don’t think it’ll make it worse, but otherwise, murmur quiet reassurances and don’t leave him until you are one hundred percent sure he’s back in reality, okay?”

Scott could feel the sweat dripping down his back as he nodded, “Okay. Thanks, John.”

The ginger simply nodded before flinching at the alarms that blared in the background, “Dammit, got to go, Scott, duty calls. Virgil, Alan, and Kayo are doing just fine, just so you know and before you panic over anything else like you probably want to, got it? See you soon.” With that, John saluted and cut the call.

It took Scott a few seconds to bring his wrist down to his lap. Staring at said lap, he was reminded of the task at hand when Gordon mumbled more pleas. The only one Scott was able to make out absolutely ripped his chest in half, “Pls… jus’ wan’ Dad…”

Barely stopping the tears from falling, Scott shakily reached one of his hands out and gripped the wrist that wasn’t in a cast, gently squeezing his younger bro’s arm and immensely relaxing at how it genuinely calmed the swimmer down, “Just hang on buddy, you’re gonna be fine.”

He had to be. Scott couldn’t handle a repeat of the hydrofoil.

Nobody could, least of all Gordon.

“Just hang on…”

Scott hoped his thunderous steps didn’t scare anyone, whether it was the private landing strip employees or the hospital ones, he didn’t know. The Colonel called them about an interesting situation she had landed herself in. Notice: replace interesting with horrifying and you’ll get the gist of how Scott was feeling.

She professionally listed off all the facts: serial-robbers that were too sneaky for their own good robbed the place the business party that Gordon and Jeff were at was being held without knowing a dang party was happening. Scott’s father mentioned it was spur of the moment, so maybe that’s why they never considered it. Regardless, as they tried leaving, security saw them and that left them to panic and take control over the place.

They saw Gordon and mistook him for a different WASP officer (Scott desperately tried holding back a snort at that statement) and promised to leave everyone unharmed if he helped them escape in a goddamn hydrofoil. Those bastards were lucky they got locked up. Scott had such wonderful ideas for releasing stress if he ever met them in person.

It didn’t help that the Colonel said his father was injured in the process. Total killer stress relievers those men would have been.

Shaking his head, Scott asked the receptionist where Gordon Tracy’s room was and took no time getting over there. The door was shut, which Scott was grateful for. Taking a deep breath, Scott slowly entered the dark room and prepared himself for whatever he was about to see.

To be honest, it wasn’t as bad as he was expecting it to be. It was still a little rough, but he did have an entire plane ride to think of the worst to come, so if there was anything to be wrong about tonight…

Shaking his head once more, Scott tiptoed into the room and fully grasped the situation. Gordon was physically okay for the most part. He looked like he was thrown through a Kentucky Twister and back, and the oxygen mask only highlighted his paler-than-normal skin tone, but for the most part, he just needed some sleep and familial care.

Jeff was also okay. He was going to have an awful crick in his neck with how he was sleeping in that chair, but the square bandage that adorned his forehead was all that Scott could see was wrong. Realizing the world wasn’t ending, Scott exhaled a relaxing breath and walked over to sit next to his father.

Right as he did, Jeff stirred, and Scott simply waited for the older man to fully wake up. Once he did, he practically jumped at seeing Scott but also sagged his shoulders in the same movement. Scott could always help him form proper thoughts, “Scotty, thank God… it was--”

“Awful? Terrible?” Scott finished for him, and he was only partially right. The eldest continued for a little bit more, “Aunt Casey explained some things. Geez, one of your first business excursions back on the planet and it ends with you getting beaten over the head, heh, I… Father?”

Scott stopped at Jeff’s shaking head. The father looked at Gordon for a little bit before turning back to look at Scott with wide eyes, “Jesus, Scott, I-- he-- Gordon was practically screaming when we got him back from those robbers. Terrible is barely scratching the surface.”

Scott full bodily flinched at Jeff’s confession. God, he kept being bad at this. Of course, Gordon would have a major freakout over being forced in a hydrofoil again. Totally not like one didn’t nearly wipe him off the face of the Earth or anything, “Yeah… Listen, I know this gives off the wrong vibe, but sorry you had to see that. Man, you’re just having a bad time finding out about what we’ve been through while you were gone, huh?” Scott leaned back into his chair and formed a loose grin on his face.

Jeff somewhat relaxed at his son’s words. He was reminded that this could be a lot worse, and since it wasn’t, he felt that it was easier to truly let go, “Don’t worry, I get what you mean.”

Scott shrugged before sitting up again, just so he could make his words more professional, “This is Gordon’s story, but I will give the general details to ease your mind, as well as that concussion. Right after he got his gold medal and after his first few months into college, he decided to apply for WASP. Needless to say, he got accepted and it, uh, didn’t end well.”

Now it was Jeff’s turn to full bodily flinch. Trailing away from his eldest child, he absentmindedly examined Gordon once more. It felt odd seeing him so peaceful after what had to have been the worst panic attack of his life. Swallowing his spit, Jeff wasn’t looking at Scott as he spoke, “Thank you, Scotty. For watching over them. I know you probably think you didn’t protect them as much as you could, but from my eyes, you did more than enough, and I will never display enough gratitude for everything you must have done in my absence.”

Nodding, Scott wasn’t sure how much he believed those words, but they did feel nice to hear, especially from his father, “Thanks, Dad, that means a lot.”

The two men glanced at one another with toothy grins, telling one another that panic time was over and that everything was alright. Like a mirror image, the two leaned back into their chairs at the same time, both watching the bed in front of them the whole way.

Now it was time to wait.

---

Oi, hangovers were the worst thing on the planet.

Groggily sitting up, Gordon shook his head as he tried remembering what the hell happened and why he felt like he got squashed by Virgil in ‘Two. Right before asking himself how much he had to drink at that party, he was suddenly aware of the oxygen mask over his face.

Oh fuck.

That’s right. That happened.

…

What else was he supposed to say? Other than wanting to sag back into the pillows behind him, which he did, he was truly lost. He probably knocked off whatever few years his dad’s lifespan had left after his eight years in space, so that was great. Bringing his hand up, he rubbed his eye in annoyance.

Taking his hand away, he looked to his left to see two figures in his room with him: Scott and his dad. Heh, figures Scott would be here. Probably thought Gordon lost a leg or something. As for right now, the brunette was fast asleep and somewhat drooling on his chest, which brought momentary joy to the blonde. He shut his eyes and chuckled a few times.

Gordon abruptly opened them after realizing something. Looking back at his family, he blinked and finally noticed that his dad was, in fact, not asleep like Scott. He was awake, his wide eyes only rivaled by how hard he was gripping the chair’s arms.

Before Gordon could say one of his famous one-liners or potentially start screaming at the top of his lungs like a bad comedy, Jeff was over him and wrapping him in a giant hug. Oh. Not sure how to process the situation, Gordon simply hugged his father back, albeit much softer. He was still pretty exhausted from previous events.

It was a few minutes before Jeff’s voice rang out from his back. It was husky in a way that Gordon knew the man was barely holding back everything that wanted to spill out, “Before we go forward, before we decide what to do from here,” Jeff leaned out of the hug and kept his hands on Gordon’s shoulders. Gordon youthfully gasped at the sight of tears on his father’s cheeks, “I just want you to know how damn proud I am of you boys, how proud I am of you. You all became fine young men, and I couldn’t be any more excited to call you all my own.”

Gordon was glad the oxygen mask was still on. Tears were leaking down his face, and his waterworks tasted significantly salty, so that could at least be averted for now, “Thanks, Dad, I’m happy to call you my father too.”

Jeff could only grin and squeeze his shoulders. They stood there in that position for a while, neither wanting to move or look away from the face in front of them out of fear the peace would be shattered. Gordon was going to need to tell Jeff how the man nearly came back to one of his children in a wheelchair, and Jeff was, of course, going to cry his heart out just like he did over Scott’s mission or John’s isolation.

But for right now, everything was okay, which something all of the Tracys wondered if they would feel again.

The click of a camera could be heard. Jeff turned his head slowly while Gordon peered around his father’s side.

Scott was cheekily grinning and holding his phone horizontally, “Oops, did I accidentally take a picture? My bad.”

The other two men rolled their eyes, and before Jeff could tell his eldest off, Gordon shook his shoulders to loosen them and reached behind him, “Alright, fair enough, Scott, you got me on that one. But can you,” with the speed of a dolphin, Gordon yanked one of the pillows out from behind him and chucked it right at Scott, “Take this?!”

For one with such good reflexes, Scott didn’t do much in avoiding the soft projectile that nailed him right in the face, nearly making him drop his phone. Gordon started laughing his ass off as the fluffy object slowly slid off his brother’s face like badly made slime, and Jeff couldn’t help his laughter either.

Scott always did lower his defenses around his younger brothers.

Too bad those same younger brothers loved abusing that fact.

Jeff grinned to himself.

Nah, not abuse. Playfully take advantage of.

That was more Gordon’s style, and Jeff was just glad that didn’t change about him, no matter what he’d been through.

[ilya-sorokins]

Prompt: cliche as fuck Lucaya break up Lucas moves. Comes back years later to find out Maya has a kid. His kid but he doesn't know. And no one will tell him.

so i think i got this ask in 2017 (tumblr really ought to put dates on these things) HOWEVER i started it like as soon as a got it, and i forgot about it for like a year, and i FINALLY finished it! pls keep in mind that this was written over the course of at least a year and a half and no one proofread it lmao. also lucaya is pretty much dead so i’m not expecting much out of this. 

title: everything’s gonna be alrightword count: 7k+ship: lucaya, side riarkleao3

It all starts when Lucas Friar is offered a job. Not just any job, though. A job in Texas. A job that’s approximately 1,743 miles away from New York City. It’s also a job that’s approximately 1,743 miles from Maya Hart.

When he first tells Maya, she laughs, “You’re kidding, right?” But his face says otherwise. “Wait, you aren’t seriously considering accepting the offer, are you?”

“I’ve already accepted, Maya,” he tells her gently, squeezing her hand in his. “One of my former professors recommended me for the position, and the pay is amazing. I couldn’t turn it down.”

“What about me?” she asks, taking her hand from his and crossing her arms. She pinches herself repeatedly, thinking, This is just a dream, you’ll wake up and laugh at such a crazy idea. Lucas isn’t moving to Texas any time soon.

Brows furrowed, Lucas responds, “I assumed you would come with me. We were planning on moving in together soon, anyways.”

He reaches to take her hand again, but she moves away from his touch. Shocked at her reaction, he inches away from the blonde, a chasm beginning to grow between them.

“Lucas, you do realize that I have a life here, right?” she snaps, clenching her fists in her lap. “I have a family, friends, a damn job. I can’t just uproot my life.”

“I know,” he says slowly, thoughts churning in his head, “I just–well, I thought you’d want to come with me. We love each other. I’d planned on spending my life with you.”

The anger inside Maya quickly boils down into sadness and heartbreak. “I do love you, Lucas,” she begins, tears welling in her blue eyes, “but if you actually take this job, if you actually leave, then we’re done. There can’t be an us if you’re halfway across the country.”

“Then I guess we’re over,” he says simply. “I can’t turn down this opportunity. I’d never forgive myself. Maybe one day you’ll understand that, Maya.”

She’s so shocked that she doesn’t even realize he’s left until the door slams. Then the floodgates open and sobs wrack her tiny body. Tears stream down her cheeks, dripping onto her chest.

Maya cries so violently she ends up making herself sick. She runs to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she vomits.

But the burn in her throat is nothing compared to the pain of her broken heart.

On autopilot, the woman gets up from the floor to brush her teeth. As she looks in the mirror, her disheveled reflection shows her mascara stained cheeks and post-vomit session hair. Normally Maya would fix herself up, make herself look presentable, but she can’t bring herself to do it.

It’s not like she has anyone to impress anymore.

Before she starts crying again, she decides to make a call. She finds her phone and goes to her favorite contacts. Before long, she’s greeted with a chirpy, “Peaches! How’d it go? I’ve been thinking about it all day!”

She takes a deep breathe. “I didn’t get to tell him, Riles. We just broke up.”

“What?!” Riley screeches, her tone dripping in shock. “Why? I thought you all were happy.”

“So did I,” the blonde muses. “He accepted a position in back in Austin without talking to me about it. He just assumed I’d go with him.”

The other woman’s gasp can be heard through the phone. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry, Maya.”

“I wish I could go with him,” she says honestly. “It’s not like I can. I’ve worked too hard to get my teaching job to just leave.”

“I agree with you, but what about–”

“The baby?” Maya finishes for her. The awkward silence is an answer enough. “He’s not going to find out that I’m pregnant. He doesn’t need to know. When he chose the job over me, he lost his right to know about my life. Plus, I was raised by a single mom, and I turned out okay. At least I think I did. We’ll make do.”

“Peaches, do you want me to come over?” Riley asks, concerned about her friend.

“You don’t need to do that…” she answers, trailing off. “But if you want to, I wouldn’t be opposed to eating ice cream and watching Friends in our pajamas.”

Her best friend laughs and it’s the first time Maya smiles since Lucas told her about the job offer.

“Okay, I’ll grab a few pints of Ben and Jerry’s and head over. Be there in thirty?”

Maya responds, “That works. Thank you, Riles. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

The blonde lets out a breath, “Let’s hope.”

When she ends the call, she drops her hand to her still-flat stomach.

I guess it’s just me and you now, kiddo, she thinks, rubbing small circles. Everything’s gonna be alright. 

—————————————-—————————————-

On a scorching day in the late spring, Maya gives birth to a beautiful baby girl after an incredibly long labor. She has wisps of dark blonde hair and her mother’s piercing blue eyes. The first person to hold her after her mother is Riley.

“She’s perfect, Maya,” the brunette whispers, holding the newborn in her arms. “Did you pick her name?”

She nods, looking at the sleeping baby in her friends arms, “Lucy Jane Hart. Lucy means light, and this little one is the light of my life.”

Riley says, “I love it. She’s lucky to have such a great mom.”

“I hope you’re right. I really, really hope so.”

While this moment occurs in New York, Lucas is returning to an empty apartment in Texas. He’s had yet another boring day at work, and every part of him misses Maya.

There have been several nights where he’s had a few drinks and almost called her, but even when he’s drunk he can’t forget her words.

If you actually leave, then we’re done.

And Lucas left. He made that decision. With each day that passes, his mistake becomes more and more apparent.

As he opens his first beer of the night, he says to nothing, “I miss Maya,” and wishes she was there with him.

At the same time, Maya holds her daughter and says, “I miss Lucas,” and wishes he was there with her.  

But neither knows they’re thinking the same thing, and they go on with their lives. One day at a time.

—————————————-—————————————-

Almost six years later, Maya hears the words she never thought she’d hear.

“Lucas is back,” Farkle tells her over the phone. “He���s literally on his way to my apartment as we speak.”

It comes as such a shock to her body that she finds herself doubled over her classroom’s trash can, throwing up her lunch. Luckily it’s after school hours, so she won’t have any curious middle school students asking, “Miss Hart, are you okay?”

(Because her answer would be no, Miss Hart is not okay.)

“Maya,” she hears through her cell. “Maya, are you still there?”

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, picking up her phone to answer him. “I’m still here. I just threw up everything in my stomach.”

“Shit, Maya,” he says with a sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t be excited, but I didn’t think you’d react that badly.”

“Tell me about it,” she mutters. She hadn’t thrown up since her morning sickness days. Maya’s generally a healthy person. Except when she finds out the father of her child is back in town. That easily upsets her stomach. “Is he back for good?”

“Yes. He’s transferring to a vet’s office in the city,” Farkle tells her. “He asked to stay with us for a few nights, he can’t move into his apartment until Monday.”

“Oh, fuck,” Maya curses. “He’s gonna want to see me, isn’t he?”

“He’s already asked about you. He didn’t waste any time.”

A blush spreads across her cheeks and she’s immediately thankful to be alone right now. “Dammit,” she curses again.

“Uh, Maya,” he says, “You do remember what day it is, right?”

The woman’s eyes trail to her desk calendar. Thursday. What’s so special about Thurs– “Fuck, you all have Lucy right now!” she remembers. Riley always watches the five year old at her and Farkle’s place so Maya can stay at the school and finish up some work. “Wait–you said he’s on his way now?!”

“That’s what I said.”

“Shit! He’s gonna know she’s not yours!” she rambles, grabbing her bag. “I’m leaving the school right now. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“You’ll probably get here right before him.”

“Oh, I will be there before him,” Maya promises, exiting the building. She hangs up the phone and books it to the Minkus-Matthews apartment.

When she arrives, she’s drenched in sweat and her feet are on fire. Silently she curses herself for picking style over comfort when it came to today’s shoes. The wedges seemed like a great idea this morning.

Letting herself in, Maya calls out, “Hello?”

Seconds later the pitter-patter of tiny feet can be heard. Lucy crashes into her mother, nearly knocking Maya down, greeting, “Mommy! You’re early!”

“I just missed you so much!” she tells her, stooping down to her level. The little girl beams at her, ecstatic at the surprise.

“I missed you, too, Mommy! I had so much fun at school today!” she tells her, jittering with energy.

Maya laughs, wondering exactly how fun a day of first grade could be. Nonetheless, she replies, “I can’t wait to hear all about it, little bug. Where’s Auntie Riley and Uncle Farkle?”

The girl grabs her hand, leading her through the apartment. In the kitchen she finds the couple, where they are speaking in heated whispers, undoubtedly over Lucas’ impending arrival.

“Peaches!” Riley says, still greeting with the childhood nickname. “How was your day?”

“It was great until I got the news,” she says, letting out a sigh. She looks around to see what Lucy’s doing, but she’s too busy showing Farkle her new book to eavesdrop. “I’m scared, Riley.”

The woman’s face falls. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Maya. Plus, it could be good, you know,” she tells her, then her voice drops to a whisper, “Meeting her dad.”

Maya shakes her head, “I don’t know, Riles. It’s always been us. Lucy’s never even asked about her dad. Anyways, he may not even want her.”

The brunette narrows her eyes, “You know that’s not true. He will do everything for her once he finds out. Plus, Lucy will start asking about him sooner rather than later.”

As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she knows she’s right. Lucas isn’t the type to abandon his own daughter. If anything, he’ll want to make up for nearly six years of lost time. And Maya also knows that he’s going to be heartbroken that she never told him. But she’ll cross that road when she comes to it.

And just because Lucy isn’t curious about her dad now, doesn’t mean she won’t ever be. Maya knows that from experience.

When the doorbell rings and interrupts her thoughts, she nearly collapses. Oh, god, I’m seeing Lucas Friar for the first time in almost seven years, she thinks, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

“I’ve got it!” Farkle calls out, headed towards the door. A curious Lucy attempts to trail behind him, but Maya quickly gets her attention.

“Lucy, honey, come here!” she calls.

The little girl walks over, “Yes, Mommy?”

“We’re gonna head home soon, do you have all your stuff together?”

She pauses, thinking about the question. She shakes her head, “Nope. I will get all my things.”

The woman smiles. “Thank you, baby girl.”

Quickly Lucy runs off to do as she’s told.

Moments later, a new voice nearly stops her heart. A voice that she hasn’t heard in nearly 7 years, but still causes her knees to weaken, and her cheeks to flush.

“Wow, Shortstack, you’ve barely changed,” Lucas walks into the kitchen, setting his bags down on the tile.

Heart pounding rapidly, Maya replies, “Same goes to you, Ranger Rick.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, but Riley swoops in to hug him. She easily distracts the man from his ex-girlfriend. The brunette badgers him with questions about his time in Texas and his new job here.

Maya almost thinks she’ll be able to sneak out without him noticing, but then her lovely daughter barrels into the room, huge backpack engulfing her tiny body as she yells, “Mommy, I’m ready to go!”

Lucas turns around, looking at the child, then up to the blonde, “Maya, you have a daughter?”

“Yes,” she answers, holding her daughter close to her. She bends down, introducing her little girl, “Lucy, this is Lucas. He’s one of Mommy’s… old friends.”

“Hi,” she sticks her hand out, “Nice to meet you, Lucas.”

Stooping down to her level, he smiles and shakes her tiny hand, “Hi, Lucy. Nice to meet you, too. How old are you?”

“I am five–but I am almost six!” she answers, very excited about her upcoming birthday. “I will be six on May 15th!”

“That’s very soon. I can see why you’re excited.” He looks back up to Maya, then says, “She’s beautiful, looks just like you.”

Somehow, her cheeks flush an even brighter red as she says, “Thank you, Lucas.” She grabs Lucy’s hand, “Let’s go, little bug.”

“Okay!” she says, grinning. “Bye, Lucas! Bye, Auntie Riley and Uncle Farkle!”

Before they head out, Lucas comes up to her, “Maya?”

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering, um, maybe–if you’re okay with it? Could we, uh, have dinner sometime? Catch up?” he asks. “But only if you want to!”

Maya is slightly taken aback by the offer, but still finds herself saying, “Sure. Shoot me a message–my number’s still the same.”

He smiles, “Great. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you around,” she replies, then shuffles her daughter out the door.

Once they get outside and head towards the subway, Lucy asks, “Mommy, why is your face so red?”

The woman blushes even more. “Just hot, sweetie. Let’s go home.”

—————————————-—————————————-

“So why didn’t you all tell me that Maya has a kid?” Lucas asks his friends after she leaves.

Farkle shrugs, “It’s not like it really came up in conversation. You didn’t ask about her until today.”

“Is the–is the father in the picture?” he questions. He didn’t even think about her not being single when he asked her to dinner. (Not that this dinner has to be a date, by any means. But he really, really wants it to be a date.)

“No,” Riley answers quickly. She looks uncomfortable as she goes on, “They broke up before she found out she was pregnant. He never found out…”

“Damn,” Lucas replies, rubbing the back of his neck. Every part of him knew Maya would’ve moved on from him, but he never would’ve imagined that she had a child. Hell, based on the age of her daughter, she must’ve moved on almost immediately.

The brunette adds, “Well, she’s doing great. Maya’s a great mom, and Lucy is a great kid.”

“I can imagine,” he comments. Pasting on a fake smile, he changes the subject, “What about you all? The wedding is soon, yeah?”

The couple launches into details about their impending nuptials, but even seeing the immense happiness on their faces isn’t enough to distract his own thoughts.

When his transfer got approved, his first thought was just Maya. Maya is in New York. He’s back in New York. Lucas hoped that things could back to how they were before. Before he left her for a job that he hated.

But Maya has a daughter, a beautiful little girl that is the center of her life. She won’t drop everything to go back to the man that broke her heart. Besides, she may not want him back anyways.

But I still love her, he thinks. I never stopped loving her.

—————————————-—————————————-

“Alright, little bug,” Maya sing songs, brushing out Lucy’s wet hair, “It is definitely bedtime.”

The young girl frowns, “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” she nods, kissing the top of her head, “you have school tomorrow, and Mommy has to work. So, it’s bedtime. Go brush your teeth so I can tuck you in.”

Lucy obliges, running off to the bathroom. While she’s in there, Maya gets a call from an unsaved number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Maya. Can you talk right now?”

Lucas’ voice comes as a slight shock. She hadn’t expected him to contact her so soon. “Oh, hey, Lucas,” she responds after a moment of silence. “I’m getting ready to tuck Lucy in, can you wait a few minutes?”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammers. “I can call you back or–”

“No, no,” she tells him. “It’ll just take a few minutes. Stay on the call, okay?”

He agrees, and Maya leaves her phone on her bed. When she gets to Lucy’s room, she’s already in her bed, waiting patiently.

“Okay, little bug,” she says, taking her seat on the edge of her bed. The blonde starts tucking the blankets up around her daughter, then plants a kiss on her cheek, “I love you, Lucy. Sleep tight, baby girl.”

“I love you, too, Mommy,” Lucy tells her, snuggling into bed.

Maya picks her favorite teddy off the floor, then hands it to her. She gives her one last kiss, saying, “Good night.”

Before she leaves the room she makes sure the night light is on and switches the rest off. When she gets back to her own bedroom, she picks up her phone and asks, “You still there?”

“Yeah,” Lucas answers. “I wanted to… I wanted to know how you were doing? We didn’t really get to talk earlier… And it’s been a long time.”

“I’m good, I guess,” she says, walking out of her bedroom and to the kitchen. If I’m gonna talk to him, I’m pouring myself a glass of wine, she tells herself, grabbing the bottle from the fridge. “I keep busy. I’m still the art teacher at our old middle school, and being a single mom isn’t exactly easy.”

He laughs, “I can imagine she’s a handful. But she seems wonderful, Maya. I can’t get over how much she looks like you. She’s your twin.”

Taking a big gulp from her glass, she says, “Thank you. She’s perfect. I can’t imagine life without her. I didn’t know my life was missing something until she was placed in my arms.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he tells her. “I’ve thought a lot about you.”

Without thinking, she replies, “I’ve thought a lot about you, too, Ranger Rick.”

“Really?” he asks in disbelief. “I figured you hated me.”

Maya takes another sip of her wine. “I could never hate you. You know that.”

Lucas’ deep breath can be heard through the call, “You had every right to.”

“I did,” she agrees, “but I never once hated you.”

It’s not a lie. Even throughout her entire pregnancy, the late night feedings, and the days where she just wanted someone to hold her, Maya never hated Lucas. She couldn’t hate him, he gave her Lucy. But, she had missed him. She would’ve done anything to have him back by her side.

“Do you think we could do dinner this Saturday night?” he asks, “I wasn’t sure if you had a sitter, or if you even wanted to.”

She laughs, “I’d love to. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t five years old, or a middle school student, or a stressed couple planning the wedding of the century.”

“They really are going over the top, aren’t they?” Lucas jokes. The Minkus-Matthews’ wedding won’t be one to miss. “So–Saturday at 6? I’ll text you the address.”

“As long as my sitter is free, I’m in,” she says.

“Great. I’ll let you go now,” he responds. “Bye, Maya.”

“Bye, Lucas,” she says, then ends the call. She downs the rest of her wine, then calls her best friend. As soon as Riley answers, Maya greets with, “I think I just agreed to a date with Lucas Friar.”

—————————————-—————————————-

“Mommy, why do you look so fancy?” Lucy asks, watching her mother carefully apply her nude lipstick.

“I’m going to a fancy dinner, so I have to look fancy,” Maya answers, pouting her lips in the mirror. Naturally, the girl imitates her, causing the woman to chuckle. “Are you excited to spend the night with Nana?”

“Yeah!” she exclaims, bouncing on her heels. “Nana and I are gonna make sketti and meatballs! Then we’re gonna watch a movie!”

“Wow!” she enthuses, pushing a loose curl out of Lucy’s eyes. “It sounds like you all are gonna have so much fun.”

“We will!”

Maya sends her off to put her shoes on, and she slips her heels on herself. Checking her reflection, she smoothes out her dress and checks her hair one last time. She’s wearing a deep red halter dress that hugs her curves, paired with her trusty black pumps. Once she’s ready, she heads out with Lucy in tow.

After she drops Lucy off at her mom’s place (with the promise of having her in bed by 8:30, but Maya knows Katy is a sucker and will let her grandbaby stay up way past her bedtime), she hails a cab to the upscale Italian restaurant. When she arrives, she immediately spots her date, and her knees go wobbly.

Lucas looks good. He’s wearing a navy blue suit, which is Maya’s absolute weakness. She greets him with, “Well, you still clean up pretty well, Cowboy.”

“Thanks, Shortstack,” He grins, looking her up and down, “You look gorgeous, Maya.”

Her heart feels like it could burst out of her chest, but she tries to ignore the feeling. “Thank you, Lucas.”

Their hands brush together as they walk into the restaurant, but they both pull away quickly, blushing.

(Maya hopes her blush isn’t as bad as she believes it is, because she feels as red as her dress at the moment.)

(Lucas thinks the exact same thing as he gives his name for the reservation.)

They’re taken to a secluded table near the back. “Enjoy your dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Friar,” comments the hostess.

Maya wants to correct her, but she decides to keep her mouth shut. Once she’s out of earshot, she laughs, “Awkward.”

The man chuckles in agreement, grabbing the wine list, “Red or white?”

“Hmm,” she ponders, tapping her chin in thought. “Red.”

When the waiter arrives, he orders a whole bottle of Cabernet for the two of them– the price nearly makes her faint, but he doesn’t seem phased. Before the wine even makes it to the table, Lucas apologizes, “Can I just go ahead and say I’m sorry? Because I am so sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” she responds, busying her hands with the dinner napkin in her lap. She can only imagine where this conversation will go.

He lets out a deep sigh, “For being so stupid all those years ago. I never should’ve accepted the job offer without talking to you first.”

The blonde says, “It’s okay, Lucas. The past is the past. It’s not like we can go back and change it. I’ve gotten over it.” No I haven’t, she thinks.

“I wish I could,” he admits, rubbing his hands together. “You know, I ended up hating that job. Biggest regret of my life.”

Sensing his distress, Maya reaches across the table to grab his hand. Instantly, she feels him relax. She tells him, “We’ve all made mistakes, even me. We’re only human.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think your mistakes led to losing the love of your life,” he comments, rubbing his thumb across her hand.

My mistake led to our daughter growing up without a father, she thinks, but doesn’t voice. There’s a time and place for that conversation, and it’s definitely not right here, right now. “Well,” she starts, “I’m here now, right?”

He nods, “Yes.”

“So you didn’t completely lose me,” she points out. “I could’ve turned down this offer. I have lots of shows I could be catching up on right now. There are plenty of medical dramas waiting for me to binge.”

Lucas laughs a true laugh. It’s a sound she’s missed so much, something she’s wanted to hear again. “Thank you for coming, then.”

“You’re welcome,” she responds. “Okay, so it’s been almost seven years. A lot can happen in that much time…”

“Yeah, like you having a daughter. I can’t believe you have a kid,” he teases, then quickly adds, “Not that it’s a bad thing, by any means. She’s adorable, I’m just still shocked, to be honest.”

Maya fakes a chuckle. If only you knew she was yours, she thinks. “She’s wonderful. I may be biased, but she’s the smartest almost six year old I’ve ever met. I put her into kindergarten when she was four–even though everyone told me she was too young–and her teacher said she’s ahead of most of her classmates. So they’re pretty sure she’ll be offered a spot in the accelerated program in few years, but there’s no guarantee–” then she stops and throws her hands up, saying, “Oh god, I’m rambling about my kid. I’m being the worst date right now.”

This time, Lucas grabs her hand to calm her down. “It’s fine,” he laughs. “At least you have something to talk about. I have nothing.”

“I’m sure you did something interesting in the past seven years.”

“Nope. Nothing.”

“Seriously?” she asks, “No crazy vet stories? Crazy farm stories? Crazy date stories?”

He chuckles at the last question. “I had a woman bring me her duck that was actually a chicken. I didn’t live on a farm, my apartment was downtown. Definitely no memorable dates.”

The wine arrives and the server takes their order. Once he leaves, Maya takes a sip of her wine and says, “So no dates, huh?”

Shaking his head, he replies, “There were dates, but nothing special. No one made it past the third date.”

“Hmm,” she hums, taking another drink.

“Have you dated anyone?” he asks, then realizes his mistake. “Shit–you have a kid. I’m an idiot.”

Yes, Lucas, you are an idiot because you haven’t even realized that she’s yours! she thinks. You went to school for eight years to become a veterinarian yet you can’t do the math to realize you’re the father!

“I’ve done the same as you, really,” she says, and it’s the truth. There were a few men, and one woman, but nothing worked out. “I’ve always been focused on Lucy, so I haven’t worried much about dating.”

He takes a moment to refill her empty wine glass, then says, “If you don’t mind me asking, why isn’t Lucy’s dad in the picture?”

“I never told him I was pregnant,” she answers too quickly.

“Riley told me that much, but why didn’t you tell him?” he quizzes curiously, sipping from his own glass.

Avoiding eye contact, she says, “I–Uh, can we not talk about that right now?” Immediately, he goes in for the apology, but she interrupts him, “Don’t be sorry, it’s just not my favorite thing to talk about.”

“Understandably so,” he agrees. The Texan turns the conversation around, “Tell me about your job. I know you’re at our old school…”

The rest of their date goes by without a hitch. They talk without asking the wrong questions, enjoy a great meal, and leave together–nearly drunk after purchasing a second bottle of wine.

(“The amount of money you spent on this meal would make my bank account cry,” she comments as he signs the bill.

He just waves it off, tipping the server substantially for dealing with them.)

“Come back to my place with me,” she offers, stumbling against him as he attempts to hail a cab. “Lucy is with my mom. Staying all night.”

He takes a moment to respond, making her think he’s going to say no. However, he eventually agrees, “Okay,” leading her into the cab.

The entire ride to her place Maya stays pressed against his side, while Lucas keeps a hand on her thigh. The touch is enough to bring goosebumps to her skin and heat up her cheeks.

Once they arrive to their destination, she leads him up to her apartment. Before she can even get her key, he has her pressed against the door and they’re kissing.

It’s hot and heavy, as if years of being apart has built up to this very moment. Perched on her tiptoes to reach, her fingers find their way to his hair. He tastes like red wine, and still smells the same as he did seven years ago.

Breaking apart to breathe, they rest their foreheads against each other. The first to break the silence is Lucas. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you in that dress,” he discloses, caressing her cheek. “You look so fuckin’ hot in it. But, you know what?”

“What?” she says, breathing heavily.

“It’d look better on the floor,” he says, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“That’s the most god awful thing you’ve ever said,” she says, unlocking the door. “But it was kinda hot.” Dragging him by the tie, she takes him to her bedroom. She turns around, “Unzip me.”

“Gladly,” he obliges, taking his sweet time and admiring the view, running his knuckles down her spine. While she slips her dress and heels off, Lucas sheds his suit jacket and shirt.

“You still have way too much clothes on,” she comments, reaching for his belt. She removes it, throwing it carelessly. As she goes to unbutton his slacks, he stops her.

“Are you sure we should be moving this fast?” he asks seriously. “We had a really messy break up and I don’t want to fuck up our relationship aga–“

“Lucas, I want you to fuck me,” she states, “Right now.”

He crashes his lips onto hers, then says, “I’m more than happy to oblige.”

—————————————-—————————————-

The next morning Maya wakes up with a terrible headache and a worse feeling in her heart. She had sex with Lucas last night (absolutely amazing sex, but that’s beside the point), but she still hasn’t told him about Lucy. The guilt is tearing her up inside as she watches Lucas sleep, snoring quietly.

I’m about to ruin everything, she muses. Once the truth is out, he’ll never forgive me.

Maya rests her head against his bare chest, aimlessly running her fingers up and down his torso. Slowly he stirs, wrapping his arm around her to hold her close.

“G’morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her hair. When she doesn’t respond, he asks, “You okay, Maya?”

“Yeah–well, no, not really.” She sighs, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s up?” he asks, nonchalant. His fingers are threaded through her hair, playing with the golden strands. Just like he would all those years ago.

“Have you thought about how old Lucy is?” she asks.

“Five but almost six,” he answers, quoting the child, “Her birthday is coming up, May 15th, yeah?”

“Right. Now, when did you move to Austin?”

“September will mark seven years. But, Maya, what does that have to do–” then he stops. His fingers still in her hair, and that’s how she knows he’s figured it out. “Wait, is she, y’know, mine? I’m her…”

Nodding slowly, Maya finishes his thought for him, “Yeah, you’re her father, Lucas.”

For a few moments, they lay there. No one says anything, they just think. When he finally breaks the silence, Lucas sits up in bed and asks, “Did you find out you were pregnant before or after I left?”

“Before. I thought I may have been for about a week before you left, and I took six pregnancy tests to confirm it. I’d bought a little yellow onesie that said I love Daddy! to surprise you with. I was so excited, Lucas. My life was finally falling together. I had a good job, great friends, an amazing boyfriend, and as crazy as it sounds, I was so happy to find out I was pregnant. Yeah, she wasn’t planned, we weren’t married, hell, we weren’t even engaged. It was okay, though, because we were happy. So happy. Except everything changed when you came over and dropped a bomb on me.” Maya pauses to breathe, wiping away a tear that’s threatening to escape.

As she continues, her voice begins to falter, “I didn’t tell you, then you left. I went through the entire pregnancy alone, save for my mom and Riley. Morning sickness, weird cravings, the first kicks, and swollen ankles. All of it, by myself. It was so difficult. There were days that I just stayed home and cried my bed all day, wishing you were there with me. God, I just wanted you to come back. There were nights that I was going to call, but then I remembered what I said. ‘If you actually leave, then we’re done.’ And you left me. I wanted to hate you, but I couldn’t. I never could, because I loved you too much.”

Once the words leave her mouth, she feels as if a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She’s waiting for Lucas to scream and yell at her. She’s preparing herself for him to blow up, but that’s not what he does.

The first thing he says is, “God, Maya, I wish you would’ve told me. There is no job in the entire world that is more important that you and our daughter.” He pauses, then repeats himself. “Our daughter. We have a daughter…”

“Yeah, Lucas, we have a daughter. She’s perfect, so smart, and the most important thing to me,” Maya says, tears dripping down her face. “I wish I wasn’t so stupid. I should have told you sooner. You missed almost six years.”

He replies, “If I would’ve known, I would have dropped that job in a heartbeat. Being a father is so much more important than some job. I would have loved to watch Lucy grow up. And I would’ve been there for you, Maya. Every craving, doctor’s appointment, anytime you cried. I could’ve been there if you would have just told me.” He takes her hand back into his, softly rubbing circles on it.  

“I know,” she admits. “It was selfish of me to keep this from you. Lucy deserves to know her dad, and you deserve to know your daughter.”

“Can I, then? Get to know her?” Lucas asks, a hopeful gleam in his green eyes.

The woman gives him a small smile, “Of course you can. I won’t keep her from you anymore, promise.”

“Thank you,” he says, squeezing her hand. “Can you tell me more about what I missed? Like, when she was a baby?”

Grinning, Maya starts, “She was such a good baby. She was always super happy, but had to be held at all times. If you put her down, you’d get an earful. I had to put her in a sling on my chest in order to get anything done…”

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Minutes turn into hours as Maya catches Lucas up on his daughter’s life. He’s full of questions, and she’s (mostly) full of answers. He learns about all the firsts in Lucy’s life.

(“First word?”

“No. Also her favorite word.”

“First Halloween?”

“A pumpkin. She spit up all over the costume.”)

When stories aren’t enough, Maya shows him pictures. She shows him her favorites, Lucy dressed up on her first Christmas with a bow wrapped around her little head, her first finger painting experience, and her first day of Kindergarten. With each missed memory, Lucas laughs, smiles, even cries a bit.

After seeing pictures of Lucy over the years, he asks, “When can we tell her?”

Maya pauses, “That you’re her dad? We could tell her soon…”

“How about… tonight?” Lucas proposes, “I’ve already missed enough time, Maya. I really want to be in my daughter’s life.”

The suggestion doesn’t come as much of a shock. Maya knew he’d want to tell Lucy soon, but she didn’t expect tonight. “Well…”

“I can take you all out tonight,” he suggests. “Dinner, on me. We could tell her after?”

She ponders on his offer. Though it’s sooner than she’d anticipate, it wouldn’t be a bad idea. “Okay,” she answers, then adds, “but you have to let me take the lead. I don’t want to shock her too much.”

“Deal.” Lucas grins, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you so much, Maya, for letting me become involved in her life. You really have no reason to let me in after what I did to you.”

She smiles, then pecks him on the lips. “It’s the least I can do. She’s just as much yours as she is mine. You have every right to be in her life. I’m sorry I kept you away before.”

“Stop apologizing, the past is the past. I’m ready to focus on the future,” he tells her, taking her hands into his. “Speaking of the future, what about our future?”

“What about it?”

“C’mon, Maya, you know what I mean. Last night was amazing.”

“It was,” she agrees. “But it doesn’t have to mean anything. We’d been drinking.”

He sighs, then replies, “But it did mean something to me, Maya. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I stepped off the plane into New York. If–if you want to, I want to be with you. Again.”

She knew this would come eventually. But it came sooner than she expected. “Lucas…” she trails off, thinking. “I don’t know.”

“We can try,” he offers, squeezing her hand in his. “We can try to have a relationship, and if it doesn’t work, then we’ll just be friends.”

Maya stays quiet for a moment, thinking. She wants to be with him, she really does. However, Lucas left her once before, he could surely do it again.

But at the same time, he knows about Lucy now. He seems so excited to be a dad, and be there for them. And, God, did she miss him. So many times, she has wished to be in his arms again, feel his kiss, hold his hand. Now she’s being given that opportunity again. That’s why she says: “Okay, let’s do it.”

Lucas grins, then dives in to kiss her. “You won’t regret this, I promise,” he says, holding her close.

Maya smiles, feeling happier than she has in a long, long time.

—————————————-—————————————-

Later that night, Maya finds herself shaking as she attempts to braid Lucy’s hair into two plaits. It’s about an hour before they plan to meet Lucas for dinner, and she hasn’t felt this nervous to do something since she was in labor, about to give birth and change her life forever.

“Ow!” Lucy shrieks when Maya accidentally tugs her hair too hard. “You hurt my head, Mommy.”

She kisses the little girl’s head, apologizing, “Sorry, baby, but we’re all done now.” She puts the finishing touches on Lucy’s hair, adding tiny bows to the end of each plait.

Lucy hops out of the kitchen chair, twirling in her dress. “Do I look pretty, Mommy?” she asks, batting her long eyelashes.

“You look beautiful, little bug,” Maya answers. Since it’s a special occasion, she let her wear her favorite pink dress. It was a gift from Riley, and cost more than someone should spend on a dress that’s somehow going to get paint and dirt on it within an hour. It never fails to amaze Maya how fast an outfit can get destroyed by a five year old.

Just as she finishes getting ready herself, Maya hears a knock at her apartment door. She goes to let Lucas in, and even in just jeans and polo, he looks good. “Hi, cowboy,” she greets, pecking him on the cheek before Lucy can see.

“Shortstack, long time no see,” he jokes, stepping into the small apartment. It’d only been a few hours since he’d left, just enough time for Maya to pick up Lucy from her mom’s apartment and get her ready.

“Ha-hur,” she teases with a wink. She calls for her daughter, “Lucy! Are you ready to go?”

The tiny blonde comes barreling into the room, knocking into her mother like usual. “Hi, Lucas,” she says, waving.

“Hi, Miss Lucy,” he tells her, stooping down to her level. “Are you excited for us to go to dinner?” She aggressively nods her head, beaming at him. “Well, we better head out!”

Quickly, Maya grabs her bag, and they head out to hail a cab, Lucas giving directions to the kid-friendly restaurant he picked out for dinner.

The whole ride there, Lucy talks up a storm. She tells Lucas all about her first grade teacher, friends, and even about the class goldfish.

(“His name is Rocko,” Lucy tells him, grinning widely. “I helped pick his name!”)

Once they enter the restaurant and get seated and order their food, Maya gives Lucas the look. Go time.

“Lucy, hon,” Maya starts, getting her daughter’s attention. “Mommy wants to talk to you, can you listen for a few minutes?”

The little girl immediately pauses her coloring on the kid’s menu. “Okay, Mommy.”

Maya takes a deep breath, and then feels Lucas grab her hand beneath the table. She smiles briefly at him, then says, “You know how your friends have a Mommy and a Daddy?”

“Not all my friends,” Lucy replies smartly, “Jamie has two mommies!”

The two adults laugh. “Yes,” Maya replies, “some people have a Mommy and a Daddy, or two Mommies or two Daddies.”

“But I only have a Mommy,” she says. “You always said I don’t have a Daddy.”

Maya’s heart breaks a little. “Well, Lucy, you actually do have a Daddy…” her voice starts to shake as she finally gets the words out, “you see, honey, Lucas is your Daddy.”

“Really?” Lucy asks, eyes lighting up. “I have a Daddy? Can I call you Daddy?”

She catches Lucas wiping away a stray tear before grinning, answering, “I would love it if you called me Daddy, Lucy, Only if you want to.”

The little girl beams, “Okay, Daddy. I want to.”

When Lucy was born, Maya never would have imagined that she would hear her daughter call Lucas her dad. She thought it would never happen after the way she left things with Lucas. However, years later, she’s hearing just that, and it is music to her ears.

“Lucy, I do have a question for you,” Lucas says, and Maya is unsure of what is to follow. “If it is okay with you, I want to spend more time with you and your Mommy. Would you like that?”

“Hmmm,” Lucy thinks, “I would like that. May I please color now?”

Maya snorts, only her daughter would be more concerned with drawing than finding out about her father. Typical five year old. “Yes, Lucy. You can color.”

While their daughter turns back to her art, Lucas turns to her, “Well, that went well.”

“As well as we could expect,” Maya answers, leaning her head onto Lucas’ shoulder. “You know, you’re a parent now. Your life is about to change forever.”

“Correct, Shortstack: We’re parents. Bring it on.”

“Challenge accepted, Huckleberry.”