#no joke it's gonna be an absolute pain to recreate but for now *rubs hands gleefully* hehehehehe

[apocalyptic-dancehall]

( cleaner ver. on the right -> ]

- k01-tp!!

[moonlit-jeno]

fifth time’s the charm? (m.)

pairing: johnny suh x female reader

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | mentions of recreational drinking/ drugs (weed) | fluff | jaehyun being, well, jaehyun

words: 5.2k

summary: sometimes the universe aligns for you. and sometimes, it really doesn’t

1. There’s a delicious warmth between your thighs, growing with every slow grind of the guy’s hips. You don’t know his name and there’s no chance to ask, not with the way your lips are practically glued together, his tongue doing wonderful things as he licks at the seam of your mouth. He nips at your bottom lip at the same time his hand slides up your thigh, stooping just short of the hem of your dress, and you jolt, whining loudly.

He’s got a cocky smirk on his face when he pulls back to catch his breath, lips swollen and eyes dark. You stubbornly try to pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding your hips up more desperately. The two of you are as close together as the kitchen counter allows you to get. The muscles in his back flex under your fingertips and you’re so turned on that you think you could cry.

You’re just about to ask his name but then his lips are on your neck, leaving a trail of marks down the delicate skin. His hand squeezes at the meat of your thigh and you moan, tossing your head back and smacking it against the cabinet. A soft curse leaves you but the pain doesn’t really register, not when you’re being touched like that. His fingertips are so, so close to your core but he doesn’t dare move there yet. That spot is reserved by his dick, the impressive hardness dragging deliciously against your core.

There’s a commotion next to you and you turn your head to look, immediately regretting it. A guy from one of your classes- Jaehyun, you think- is emptying his stomach contents all over the floor. Your nose wrinkles and you rapidly tap your hookup’s shoulder, trying to get him to pull away. He does, a little confused, but then he follows your gaze just in time to watch Jaehyun throw up again, this time on the opposite side of the same counter you’re sitting on. Your arousal fizzles out and you groan, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that replaces the lust.

“Oh, for fucks sake Jae.” Your hookup groans, running his hand through his messy hair. He turns to you. “I gotta go take care of him, sorry.”

“Friend?” You ask as he lifts you off the counter.

“Best friend. And roommate. Which means I’m probably gonna hear him all night.” He sighs, glancing over to where Jaehyun’s got his face shoved under the faucet. “Thanks for this, though. It was fun.”

You smile, pulling him in for one last kiss. “Sorry we didn’t get to finish.”

He winks as he walks away, throwing a “next time, then.” over his shoulder. You watch as he rubs Jaehyun’s back soothingly, whispering something in his ear before picking him up. “Don’t fucking throw up on me.” Your hookup tells him, adding a “please,” as an afterthought. It makes you laugh.

It isn’t until you get home that you realize you never got his name.

2. You’re on the couch at yet another party when you see him again.

“I’m Johnny.” He offers you a joint and you take it gratefully, placing it between your lips. He even lights it for you. What a gentleman.

“Y/N,” You finally respond after taking a deep hit, watching all of the smoke leave your mouth and float overhead. “Nice to see you again.”

His eyes drift to your mouth when you take another hit and you let your head fall back to expose the column of your neck. “It is.” Johnny murmurs quietly, tongue wetting his lips.

It doesn’t take long before you end up on his lap, his hands grabbing desperately at your hips as you grind down, kissing him with the same ferocity as last time. The only difference now is that you’re high, you’re so, so high, and Johnny feels so good against you that you’re drowning in him.

Johnny pulls away to take another hit, tugging your mouth back to his so that he can pass the smoke between your lips. You accept it easily, loving how the burn in your chest matches the burn in your gut.

“Mhmm, if you feel this good now, I can’t imagine what it’s gonna feel like when I finally get to feel your pussy.” Johnny groans, bucking his hips up against your core. “Bet you’re so wet, so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.” You whisper in his ear, giggling at the deep groan he lets out in response. His hand makes its way under your skirt and you gasp, fully prepared to let him finger you on the couch in front of everyone.

His fingertips graze your core over the thin fabric of your panties and you whimper, swiveling your hips. Johnny’s a tease, just lightly petting your folds, not quite giving you what you want. You open your mouth to beg when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

You jump when you realize it’s not Johnny’s hand, turning to find a very nervous looking Taeyong.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. Uh, the house is currently on fire so we’re evacuating everyone.” He explains, trying valiantly to keep his eyes from wandering to where Johnny still has his hand under your skirt.

“Oh, fuck. Is everyone okay?” You ask, standing on shaky legs.

Taeyong nods. “Yeah, I think we’ve got it under control. But we don’t want to take any chances.”

Johnny nods. “Yeah, for sure man.”

Taeyong walks away after bidding the two of you a goodnight. You and Johnny look at each other, sighing deeply before he breaks into laughter.

“Damn, we are so unlucky.”

You groan, laughing despite yourself. “It’s unbelievable.”

3. The last time you’d seen Johnny wasn’t perfect, but at least you got his number.

Johnny texts you like you’ve known each other for years. He doesn’t bother with ice breakers- thank god, because you can’t stand small talk. It’s all memes and stories about how chaotic his day was and honestly? It’s refreshing.

Especially because he always takes the time to ask about your day, letting you rant and giving you support. He doesn’t leave you on read for hours at a time, either- you’re pretty sure the longest you’ve had to wait for a response was about an hour, and that was because he’d been in a class.

Surprisingly, there hasn’t been one suggestive message from either of you. You’d certainly been expecting it, considering the nature of how you met. But Johnny keeps everything family friendly, with the exception of a few dirty jokes and curses.

The most suggestive text he’d sent was a “hey, wanna come over and watch a movie?” But even then, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to lead to sex. You can certainly hope, but it isn’t determined.

Of course, you still shower and throw on your sexiest lingerie. Hell, you even lotion your legs.

Which you’re very thankful for as of right now, because Johnny’s got one hand up your dress and the other cupping your breast. He’s half on top of you, his lips pillowy and insistent against yours. You moan and pull him closer, tugging at his soft hair.

The movie is still playing from his laptop and you lean up to close it, reaching to set it on the floor. You’d hate for it to fall off the bed and break later on.

“I can’t believe it’s taken us this long to fuck.” Johnny huffs a laugh, pulling away to catch his breath. You giggle, tugging at his shirt to get it off.

“Hey, we haven’t fucked yet.” You remind him, sliding your hands up his toned stomach, feeling the firm muscles. He flexes and you slap his chest lightly.

Johnny leans back down to connect your lips, finally moving your panties to the side to run his finger along your drenched entrance. “Well lucky for you, I have a solution for that.”

The door creaks open before the first finger can even slide in. “Johnny! Taeyong baked us a shit ton of cookies, you want some?” You and Johnny jump apart at the speed of light, your hand flying to smooth down your dress while Johnny pats down his hair. The impact of your back hitting the headboard has you grimacing and you distract yourself by focusing all of your energy on glaring at the intruder.

Fucking Jeong Jaehyun. This is the second time he’s interrupted you, although if you take into account that it was probably him that caused the fire, it’s the third. You’re fully prepared to kill him, though you suppose you’ll spare him if he gets the fuck out of Johnny’s room.

He doesn’t.

The idiot’s looking down at his phone, so he doesn’t even notice what position you and Johnny had been in, and he somehow doesn’t even notice how both of you are panting and sitting in unnaturally stiff positions. Finally, he looks up from the device. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to notice that Johnny’s shirt is off and that he has multiple hickies scattered across his skin, but he doesn’t! Jaehyun smiles and lifts the tin of cookies.

“I’m okay.” Johnny says shortly. He’s holding a pillow over his lap and he looks absolutely murderous. 

“Suit yourself.” Jaehyun shrugs, wandering further into the room. “Were you watching a movie?” Doesn’t this kid know how hookups work? He had to have seen the two of you together at one of the last parties, has to know that there’s a reason you both have swollen lips and messy hair. 

“Yeah. Inception.” Johnny responds, clearly hoping that the complicated nature of the film will have Jaehyun sprinting away. 

“Oh, I love that movie!” Jaehyun drops the cookies onto your lap and clambers in between you and Johnny, excitedly opening the laptop. “Oh cool, you’re only fifteen minutes in!” He presses play.

Johnny groans. You shove a cookie into your mouth.

4. To say that you’re sexually frustrated is an understatement. 

You like Johnny, you really do. Spending time with him is fun. Texting him is fun. He’s a good person overall, and you want to get to know him better. Another thing you desperately want? His cock.

Every time you try to hook up, you get rudely interrupted. Maybe it’s a sign that you should actually start a committed relationship. Maybe it’s a sign that you and Johnny aren’t meant to be. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe hates you. 

It’s late, way too late to text him to come over, but you’re horny and annoyed and your imagination just isn’t doing it for you. Your attempts at fingering yourself are fruitless, and even though you’re so turned on that you think you could explode, you just can’t get wet. It must be a curse. Probably Jaehyun’s fault, you grumble, though there’s absolutely no way it could be his fault considering he isn’t here.

Your fantasies keep failing you and despite you having clear ideas of what you want Johnny to do to you, it’s not enough. After a full minute of consideration, you grab your phone.

[Me] 11:43pm

You up?

[Johnny] 11:45pm

Of course I am

It’s not even midnight yet

What’s up?

[Me] 11:46pm

Bored

Thinking about you

[Johnny] 11:46pm

Oh so I’m boring now

The little quip has you huffing a laugh, smiling down at your phone. You bite your lip and roll onto your stomach, propped up on your elbows.

[Me] 11:46pm

Hmm

I mean I guess I could change my mind if you prove me wrong

[Johnny] 11:48pm

You only think I’m boring bc I haven’t had the chance to show you how much fun I am

I might even be too much fun for you

[Me] 11:48pm

Prove it

It’s not surprising that your phone starts ringing, the stupid selfie Johnny had taken last time you hung out popping up on your screen. Your stomach jolts in anticipation, teeth finding your lower lip as you answer it.

“Hello?” You roll back over, shoving your pillow under your head. Your free hand rests on your stomach, drawing shapes into your skin.

“Hey baby,” Johnny’s voice is a low purr over the phone and just the sound of it has your stomach flipping, the pet name drawing a soft whimper from you. “It’s awful late for you to be thinking of me. Mind sharing what’s on your mind?” You consider it, sinking further into your mattress and drawing your knees up a little. “Mhmm, I dunno. I’d rather you share what’s on your mind.” That draws a soft laugh from him. “Oh, nothing much. Was just debating if you’d rather come three times on my cock or three times on my tongue.” The bluntness of his words has you sucking in air through your teeth, though your chest is so tight that you doubt you got any oxygen. “Oh.” Your voice is small and you may have been the one to initiate it, but you have no idea how to continue it. “Oh, fuck.” “Yeah?” Johnny laughs lowly on the other line. “Well, which one is it?” “Both.” You try to sound confident but you’re a mess, hand trembling with how hard you grip the phone.

“Greedy girl.” Johnny clicks his tongue, and you can almost see him shaking his head. “How are you going to earn it?” Your mind is blank, nothing but warm arousal shooting through you. “I-” You try to start, finding yourself unable to finish the sentence. The words are too filthy to be spoken out loud.

“Would you suck my cock baby? You’d probably like that, hmm? I know I would.” Johnny’s voice sounds breathless, and you can vaguely hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. “Would look so pretty with your mouth full. Do you want that?” “Yes.” You manage to gasp out, letting your hand find its way between your thighs. Two fingers dip into your core before moving up to trace quick circles into your clit.“Wanna be stuffed full.” A deep groan leaves him. “Fuck, I’d stuff you so full, baby. Do you think you can take my cock?”

“Mhmm, yeah, I can take it.” You moan, finally starting to pleasure yourself the way you want to. Fingers fucking into your core quickly, palm hitting against your clit. “Oh god Johnny, I’m so fucking wet.” “You sound so good princess. Makes me want to-” His voice cuts off and you hum, urging him to continue. He doesn’t.

“Johnny?” You ask, frowning at his silence. A sigh leaves you when he still doesn’t respond and you draw your hand out of your panties to pick up your phone. Your confusion turns to annoyance when you're met with a black screen and a spinning circle. “God fucking damnit!” You scramble for your phone charger but it’s too late, the dead battery symbol popping up when you try to turn it back on. 

You flop onto your bed and scream.

5. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex, and it’s all you can think about.

Now look, you’re not unreasonably horny. You think about sex the normal amount, and it never actually interferes with your life, but there’s something about Johnny that’s just fucking you up. He’s nice and considerate and makes you laugh so hard that tears stream down your face, and you catch yourself smiling at him fondly even when he’s not doing anything besides frowning at his laptop. Everytime your phone lights up with a notification, you dive for it to check if Johnny had texted you. You’re not in love, but he’s got you wrapped so tightly around his finger that it almost hurts.

It doesn’t help that he’s fucking hot. He’s tall and strong and sexy, and carries himself with so much confidence that you find yourself swooning. You’ve gotten just the slightest taste of what he’s like in bed, but you want the full experience. The whole legs going numb, eyes rolling back, head empty experience. Preferable without any cockblocking roommates.

So no, you don’t think that you think about sex too much. Even if you do end up paying Jaehyun twenty dollars to go see a movie and get dinner so that you and Johnny will finally have the apartment to yourselves. Honestly, you think that locking him in the abandoned storage room would have been more efficient, but this is definitely the more legal option.

Johnny doesn’t look surprised to see you when you knock on his door, letting you in with a smile on his face. He dips down for a kiss and pushes your jacket off of your shoulders, hanging it over the back of a chair. 

“My baby.” He whines, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest. “I missed you!” 

You giggle and melt into his embrace. “Let’s make up for lost time, then.” “Did you have something in mind?” Johnny pulls away a little to look you in the eye, an amused smile on his face. He brushes his thumb over your cheek and you press into the touch like a cat. His smile widens. “You know, Jaehyun’s not here tonight. We have the whole place to ourselves.”

You act like this is new information. “Oh, well then it looks like we’ll have to make the most of it.” 

Johnny hums. “Wanna watch a movie? I’ve got some popcorn waiting to be popped and some wine just begging to be drunk.”

“We could do that.” You humour him, smiling and pulling away when he leans in for a kiss. He pouts and you giggle, pressing your lips to his cheek before moving closer to his ear. “Or you could fuck me.”

Johnny stiffens for a moment and you swear he stops breathing, but then a deep groan rumbles in his chest. “Fuck baby, you can’t just say that.” You giggle and pull back to look up at him with innocent eyes. “I can’t? Why, do you not want to fuck me?” It’s meant to be rhetorical, because you know just how badly he wants you. He’s made it plenty clear. You turn to walk away and Johnny grabs you by your shoulders, anchoring you to him, your back to his chest. He brings his lips to your ear and leaves a lingering kiss on the skin just under your lobe, pressing his hips to your ass. There’s already a sizable bulge there and your stomach flips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Does it feel like I don’t want to fuck you?” Johnny asks, rolling his hips into you. “I want to fuck you so badly that it hurts, baby. Do you know what I imagine doing to you?” 

His breathing gets a little heavier when you grind back on him. “Mhmm, no. Why don’t you show me?” Johnny effortlessly spins you around and picks you up, the squeal you let out muffled by his lips. He laughs softly and the corners of your mouth twitch up. “What?” You whine, pouting at him. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not.” He doesn’t sound convincing at all. “I’m not! You’re just too damn cute.” The pout on your face is kissed away by his insistent lips and he closes the door to his room with his foot, setting you down on the edge of his bed. 

There’s still a teasing smile on his lips but his eyes are dark. You swallow thickly as he drops to his knees in front of you, the heat of his palms on your bare thighs nearly too much for you. “Will my cute baby let me show her what I’ve been imagining?”

His words have your breath hitching and your head feeling fuzzy but you manage to find the energy to nod, a shaky “yes,” passing through your lips. Johnny moves his hands higher up your thighs, thumbs playing with the waistband of your shorts. Your stomach jolts when his thumb brushes over the bare skin just under your belly button.

“I’m gonna eat you out.” There’s no hesitation in the way he speaks, his gaze determined. Your core clenches at the thought of having his mouth on you, his pretty lips and tongue working to please you. “Help me take these off?” You stand up just long enough for Johnny to tug your shorts and panties down your legs, kicking them off so that they land somewhere far away from you. And then Johnny’s pushing you back down onto the bed, palms on your thighs to push your legs apart, and you nearly scream with the anticipation. You’ve waited so long for him that you feel like you might die if he doesn’t touch you right this second. 

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” Johnny groans, staring at your pussy like he’s in awe. He parts your folds with his fingers, tongue coming out to moisten his lips. “You’re so pretty.” He kisses your inner thigh and hooks your legs over his shoulders, dipping down to press a kiss to your clit. You inhale sharply, and Johnny looks up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes as he begins to eat you out eagerly.

You have to throw your head back when he drags his tongue up your entrance, dipping the muscle inside just slightly before moving up to suck at your clit. It’s too much too fast and you feel like you’re falling, head spinning and feeling fuzzy with all the sensations he’s giving you. His hair is soft between your fingers when you reach down to grab a hold of it, trying to simultaneously pull him closer and push him away.

Johnny moans into your core and pulls away to smirk at you. The lower half of his face is covered in your arousal and his plump lips glisten. “Feel good, princess?” There’s a filthy noise as he spits onto your cunt, using his thumb to spread the saliva around. “Because you taste fucking divine.”

Breathless curses of his name leave you as your elbows finally give out, your body hitting the mattress only to arch right back off of it. Your hands fist in the sheets and your head rolls from side to side, your body not quite sure how to handle this much pleasure. “I’m gonna cum,” You whimper, pressing your heels into his back to draw him closer. “Johnny, keep- keep doing that, ‘m gonna cum.” It comes out as a plea, and another few cries of his name leave you before your orgasm washes over you, drowning you in the pleasure. 

The fog finally clears from your mind and you pry your eyes open to find Johnny still kneeling in front of you, licking his lips clean of your release. “Feel good?” You scoot back a little to allow Johnny room to join you on the bed. “Amazing. Knew you had pretty lips for a reason.”

“Aww, you think my lips are pretty?” Johnny teases, making an exaggerated kissy face. You scoff and steal a slow kiss from him, slipping your tongue past his lips at the same time you slide your palm over his dick, feeling the shape of him through the confines of his pants. He moans and tries to pull away but you catch his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling gently.

“I think you’re pretty. I also think we should take care of this, hmm?” You squeeze him gently and his thigh jerks. Johnny laughs breathlessly and reaches down to untie his pants, pushing them down his thighs just enough to free his cock. You waste no time wrapping your hand around the thick length, stroking him slowly. And Johnny makes such a pretty sight, his eyelids fluttering closed and his mouth hanging open. You shuffle back a little further on the bed, moving to lower your mouth to his cock, but he stops you.

“Too impatient,” He pants out, stepping off the bed and throwing his shirt off, kicking his pants to his ankles. “Wanna fuck you.” “I think I’m okay with that.” Your core clenches painfully at the thought of being filled up, and some of your arousal leaks down your thighs. He laughs at your response and reaches for a condom, rolling it on while you rid yourself of your shirt.

You throw your bra at him in an effort to get him to move faster, but it has the opposite effect. He looks at your bra for a moment before moving his gaze to your breasts, swallowing thickly. Both of you groan, but for different reasons.

“Babe, you can look at my boobs while you fuck me.” You whine impatiently. Johnny nods, tongue licking across his bottom lip slowly, eyes still locked on your breasts. It takes him a moment to crawl over to your body, settling between your legs and drawing you into a deep kiss. His dick brushes against your thigh and you wrap your legs around his waist.

Johnny’s always been a tease but you didn’t think he’d be this bad, holding what you want right in front of you, just out of reach. He presses the tip of his cock to your pussy, drags it through your folds, bumps your clit, does essentially everything except for what you want him to do. “Ready?” “Yeah, please,” You sigh, trying and failing not to sound desperate. And yet he still doesn’t put it in. He bends down to place a kiss on each of your nipples, swirling his tongue around one of the buds before moving to the other one. It has you sighing out in pleasure, and his teeth graze the sensitive skin at the same time he finally slides in.

The way his cock stretches you out has your eyes rolling back, your walls clenching around him desperately to adjust. Johnny swears and buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, babe, you gotta- you gotta stop doing that.” “I can’t,” You arch against him, the action only pushing his cock deeper. “Johnny, you’re so big.”

“You’re just too small.” Johnny quips back, but it’s lacking the normal bite. This time it sounds strained, and your stomach flips at knowing he’s just as affected as you are. “Jesus Christ, how are you so fucking tight?” He finally bottoms out with a groan, grinding into you with a little half-thrust before moving to pull out again. “Guess I’ll have to change that.” Johnny fucks like he simultaneously has all the time in the world and like he has none at all. His thrusts go from hard and fast to slow and deep, the overall effect leaving you with your head spinning and your body burning with pleasure. Your nails dig into his back and you chant his name like it’s a prayer, and he responds by fucking you even harder, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck.

One of his hands grasps at the sheets near your head, the other resting on your breast. He gives it a loving squeeze before moving his hand up your arm to lace your fingers together, lifting his head up to find your lips. Both of you are panting heavily but Johnny kisses you like oxygen isn’t important, messily sucking at your bottom lip and meeting your tongue with his own. He lets out a deep groan and breaks away from you, dropping his face back to the crook of your neck. His grip on your hand tightens. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” “Mhmm, okay,” You squeeze his hand back. “Touch me?” He lets go of your hand to clumsily work his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles into your clit. Your eyes roll and you arch against him, gasping out his name. Your orgasm is so close, you just need that extra push…

Johnny gets there before you can, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his groan. His hips stutter and his rhythm grows sloppy but he keeps desperately fucking into you, fingers still frantically rubbing at your clit. He presses a messy kiss to your shoulder, moves up to your ear. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you cum for me.”

It only takes a few more of his dirty words, a few more desperate thrusts, a few more presses of his thumb to your clit before you’re coming, legs locking around his waist and nails digging into his back. He swears at how your walls lock around him in a vice, his hips stuttering again as a hiccupy moan leaves him.

He all but collapses on top of you after, rolling to the side and panting heavily. You giggly breathlessly and curl up next to him, head on his chest. His entire body shivers when you press a kiss to his nipple, and he misses the shot when he tries to throw the condom into the trashcan.

“Did it live up to your imagination?” You finally catch your breath enough to ask. 

Johnny shrugs. “I guess.” He cackles and catches your hands in his own when you slap his chest and make an indignant noise, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m kidding! But actually, it might’ve been even better. We might have to try this again soon, just to be sure.” “Right.” You drag the word out in one long syllable. “Is this your way of saying you wanna go for another round?” “That depends,” He says carefully. “Do you want another round?” You laugh and shake your head. “You’re insatiable.” The air is cold when you roll out of bed and help yourself to Johnny’s closet, slipping one of the sweatshirts that you’ll ‘forget’ to return later on over your head. “But yes. Later though, I’m starving.”

The popcorn Johnny had offered you earlier gets stuck in your throat when Jaehyun barges into the apartment, the door slamming open with way too much force. Johnny snickers and pats your back, moving your water closer.

“Hey man, you have fun?” Johnny asks, only half paying attention as he tries to make sure you don’t die. You manage to dislodge the kernel and give him a thumbs up.

“Yep, nothing better than a free movie!” Jaehyun states happily, chugging the red bull in hand before opening the fridge for another one.

Johnny furrows his eyebrows. “Free? How’d you get free tickets?” 

Your eyes widen and you try to motion at Jaehyun not to say anything, but he’s as oblivious as ever. “Y/n bought them for me.”

“Oh, did she?” Johnny grins, the pieces clicking into place. He turns to look at you, grabbing your hands in his own when you try to bury your face in them. Jaehyun’s already wandered away and Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You had this planned, didn’t you?”

“It’s not my fault!” You whine, pouting at him. “Can you blame me for wanting to have sex with my hot boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I am pretty hot.” Johnny sighs, laughing with his entire body when you glare at him. He coos at you and pulls you into his chest. “But am I your boyfriend?”

Your face goes hot and there’s a moment of sheer panic before you shoot your shot. “...yes?”

“So that makes you my girlfriend, then.” His smile looks even brighter now. “Well girlfriend, it looks like we’re gonna be buying Jaehyun a lot more movie tickets now.”

You groan. 

[ahgaseda]

aura | two

driving me crazy, look in my eyes, follow me, come here, dance with me now, I’m gonna make you feel like that...

summary : back again at a camp for kids that can’t behave, you are still brokenhearted over your ill-fated romance with Jaebeom, until your friend Jackson offers to help make your ex jealous in exchange for helping him land the most unattainable girl at camp.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, recurring alcohol or recreational drug use, graphic sexual content, brief mentions of illegal activities, potentially triggering elements involving toxic relationships and emotional manipulation, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

Jackson could feel his head spinning out of control. There you were in his bed. Naked save for the dark silky sheets wrapped snugly around your body. You were curled up across from him, sound asleep with your lips slightly parted.

Your moans were still echoing in his ears, because nothing got Jackson off like sounds of pleasure. Especially when he was the cause. Shivers raced up his spine at the thought of you beneath him, made all the more arousing by the deep red lines your nails left down his back.

On his side, mirroring your position, Jackson merely stared. Fuck, he wanted to curse aloud. He really had just slept with his best friend. And more than once. Reaching forward, Jackson delicately brushed some disheveled hair from your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek.

Fuck, Jackson thought again, pulling his hand back.

Given your histories (and your current dilemma with Jaebeom), Jackson made sure to rock your world if it was the last thing he did. He buried his head between your thighs, stroked your sweet spot with the pads of his fingers, and brought you to ecstasy on his tongue.

You begged him for more and Jackson was all too happy to oblige you.

Fuck, he had groaned when he pushed himself inside your heat. You winced at the pressure and he staggered out a breath at the tight vice of your cunt.

Your fingers pressed unforgiving into the skin of his lower back, your legs high on his waist as you accepted him deep. Jackson could see the tension on your face, the way you hid your nerves at the stretch. He had been much bigger than you were expecting.

Jackson remembered then it was only your second time and he slowed his pace. He rocked gently into you, coaxing your body to accommodate him. The patient thrusting helped you open up and it kept him from blowing his load in the first two seconds.

“God, you’re tight,” Jackson said under his breath, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and bottoming out.

You hummed softly when his lips began to suck at your skin. “Does it feel good?” you asked, a mix of teasing and curiosity.

“So good, baby,” Jackson whispered.

I’m fucked, was what he had wanted to say.

The moment you gripped him tighter, drawing him in closer, and sighed out a moan, Jackson knew he was doomed. He would do anything and everything you asked of him, if he could just bury himself in the heaven that was your body.

Jackson shook the memory from his head, still staring at your sleeping form. The first round may have been slow and tender, but what followed was anything but. No sooner had he caught his breath were you on him. He had inadvertently opened the floodgates and discovered you were as insatiable as he was.

You rode him until he cried out your name. He pinned you on your stomach and pounded you from behind until you begged for mercy and he gave you release instead. The two of you rolled around beneath the sheets till they were damp with sweat.

But it didn’t matter how much pleasure Jackson gave you, how many times he brought you to toe-curling release - there was still a twinge of guilt. You were sleeping with him to spite another man. Any other day Jackson would be happy to serve as such use, but you were his best friend. He was supposed to keep you from making bad decisions.

Not letting you indulge them by becoming the actual indulgence.

Jackson decided to justify it under the guise of helping you move on. Maybe if you got some orgasms you would stop pining over Jaebeom’s mediocre skills.

You stirred then and Jackson was at attention. He wondered if you would wake up and instigate more sex. One glimpse of your breasts and he would undoubtedly get hard again. Jackson shook that mental image out of his mind quickly and focused on dropping the obligatory “bomb dick put your ass to sleep” joke.

Your eyes cracked open and you peered at him groggily.

“Hi,” Jackson rasped.

“Hi.”

A short silence ensued and it was physically painful for Jackson. When you said nothing, he asked, “How are you?”

You thought a moment, recollecting the events of the past few hours, and replied, “Sore.”

Jackson chuckled in relief. He was known for his stamina, but you had him running on empty. “I’m sorry.”

You snorted and narrowed your eyes. “No you’re not.”

Jackson flashed a grin. “Okay, I’m not.”

With a chuckle, you rolled to your back, running a hand through your messy hair.

Jackson swiftly reached over to pull up the sheet where it had fallen slightly on your chest.

You glanced down curiously and teased, “Don’t wanna see me naked anymore?”

Jackson was quick to explain, “If I see your boobies again, my dick will be up and ready to go.”

You laughed, covering your mouth shyly as you felt heat behind your cheeks. “Is that all it takes?”

Jackson bobbed his head, amused at your reaction. “Depends on the tits, but yeah, pretty much. Super effective.”

“Tell your friend to keep it together down there,” you joked, eyes shifting down his naked body. “I’m worn out.”

Jackson moved to lay on his back at your side, both of you looking up at the slowly turning ceiling fan. “Don’t worry. He is too.”

You placed a hand over your lower stomach and grumbled, “Please tell me the cramping is normal.”

Jackson sidled closer until he could feel you against him. “According to one of my exes, yes. Unfortunately it can happen when things get a little too… vigorous.”

You wanted to smack him for sounding so arrogant, but opted instead to deadpan, “I’m relieved that my best friend is an all-knowing sex god.”

“Hey, don’t inflate the ego,” Jackson chided playfully. “It also makes the dick hard.”

You laughed again.

Silence returned, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. The post-coital conversation had been handled and nothing was left up in the air. Once you gathered enough energy, you dragged your feet to the bathroom and cleaned yourself up. Jackson offered you one of his long sleeve shirts to sport while you stayed in his room.

Part of you was still in disbelief. Here you were, in Jackson’s cabin, in his bed with a persistent ache between your thighs. He was now propped back against pillows, flipping through channels on the flatscreen, and you were tucked to his side, head on his chest.

Jackson leaned slightly, trying to sneak a glimpse of your face, and asked, “You didn’t eat earlier, did you?”

You shook your head.

“Yeah, me neither,” he huffed, thinking briefly. “Should we order a pizza?”

You shrugged.

Annoyed, Jackson barked, “Alright, dialogue would be nice.”

“I just…,” you murmured, head spinning. “Can’t believe we had sex.”

Jackson chortled. Then, his expression fell. “Are you freaking out?”

You sat up to face him, hair a mess over your shoulder, and braced your hands on your bare knees. All you sported was his shirt, like some kind of trophy. “No, but I feel different.”

Jackson cocked a brow. He was getting nervous and tried to hide it. “In what way?”

You smiled bashfully and said, “Like you broke the spell a little bit.”

Jackson’s lips parted in a devilish grin. “Did I?” he asked smugly.

You rolled your eyes at his tone, but continued, “Yeah, it’s like - with Jaebeom, the whole summer was spent flirting and seducing and in the end it was one quick, awkward slip of a dick and done.”

Jackson laughed at that.

You pushed his chest until you had his attention again, giggling all the while. “But with you it was hot and heavy and everything just built up until it exploded.”

Jackson pinched your cheek and taunted, “Glad I could make your toes curl.”

“I always thought that was just an expression, but fuck yeah, did they curl.”

Jackson studied you and tilted his head. “You’re cute.”

“And we’re still best friends, right?”

“Absolutely. I can’t live without you.”

You simpered, relieved. For once it felt like having your cake and eating it, too. At the thought of cake, your stomach growled. “Let’s go get food.”

Jackson practically soared off the bed.

After redressing into your clothes from before, you stepped outside and were shocked to see night had fallen. The crickets sang and frogs croaked. The lake nearby shone with the reflection of the moon.

Turning to Jackson, you gawked. “How long were we in there?”

“A while,” he snickered.

“The mess hall is gonna close any minute.”

“All aboard,” Jackson announced, stepping in front of you and crouching down.

You giggled, clambering onto his back and squealing when he grabbed your legs, proceeding to piggyback you all the way there.

Given that dinnertime had long passed, the dining hall was sparse. There were a few stragglers. Some merely stuck around to chat. Most were snacking.

Jackson set you down and you adjusted your clothes, peering inside to check for Jaebeom.

“You go ahead,” you said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Suit yourself,” Jackson replied, kissing your cheek in parting.

No sooner had the door closed did someone sneak up behind you.

“Hard to get close to you with a bodyguard lurking around,” Jaebeom jeered.

You whirled around to snap, “In what way, shape or form have I made you think I want you near me?”

“Don’t be like that, baby girl. I remember when you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

Jaebeom still enthralled you. His perfect shoulders and perfect hands and perfect fucking face.

It was downright infuriating.

Fortunately, you were feeling pretty obstinate at the moment and countered, “I must have done a number on you since I’ve moved on and clearly you haven’t.”

Jaebeom frowned, vexed. Every girl he loved and left came crawling back for more. He had it down to a science. But no matter how many girls were ready to throw themselves at him, his pride couldn’t stand you not falling in line.

You stepped back when Jaebeom approached, extending his arm to cage you against the wall. The scent of him made your heart turn. You remembered carding your fingers through his hair and breathing him in when he was on top of you. You thought it had been so perfect.

And it was all a lie.

Jaebeom whispered, “I was good to you, wasn’t I?”

You folded your arms in defiance. “How do you figure that? I recall only one of us getting off.”

“It was your first time,” Jaebeom whined. “Do you know how hard it is to make a virgin come?”

You peered up at him and said, “Jackson makes me come over and over.”

Jaebeom’s eyes flickered. His blood boiled and his expression devolved into a frown. “Does he now?”

Realizing you had him on the ropes, you stood a little taller and ran a hand down his chest, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle in his shirt. “Yeah, maybe you should talk shop with him sometime. He can give you a few pointers.”

Jaebeom’s pulse quickened at the touch of your hand, but seethed at your words.

Pushing his arm out of your way, you grabbed the door of the mess hall and gave him one last insult, “I mean, if you’re gonna make a career out of deflowering girls, you should at least be good at it.”

Jaebeom watched the door close behind you and he was quick to head inside, though he didn’t give chase. Briefly he watched you stride to the line to get food, then his eyes scanned over the tables until he found Jackson.

Meanwhile, Jackson shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth and didn’t even look up when Jaebeom took the empty seat beside him.

“What’s your game, Wang?” Jaebeom asked roughly.

Jackson replied, “I’m gonna bag Yeona,” and tossed back a gulp of soda.

“Oh please,” Jaebeom retorted, unconvinced. “She’s impenetrable. Literally.”

“Uh-huh.”

Jaebeom shot a glance across the room, spotting Yeona near the wall with a small group of friends. “That promise ring has a matching chastity belt.”

Jackson sang, “Both of which will be on the floor with the rest of her clothes when I’m done.”

Jaebeom brought his gaze back to you as you piled food on your plate and set it on your tray to move down the line. “What about you and the Ice Queen?”

Jackson fought a frown. He wanted to slug Jaebeom in the jaw every time he mentioned you. Playing cool, Jackson spoke nonchalantly, “We’re just having fun. The Ice Queen’s got that fire pussy.”

“I know she does,” Jaebeom growled, images of you naked filling his head. “So, you guys aren’t exclusive. She’s playing the field and I can round the bases.”

Jackson almost bit the tip off his plastic fork and snarled, “Dude, she hates your guts.”

Jaebeom licked his lips. “We both know hate sex is the best.”

Jackson felt his blood pressure rising. He wanted nothing more to beat the living shit out of Jaebeom, but he remembered the game you both were playing.

Sensing the conversation was over, and having gotten what he wanted out of it, Jaebeom moved to leave.

“Hey,” Jackson called.

“What?”

Jackson leveled his eyes on Jaebeom, stern and full of contempt. “You didn’t have to make her fall in love with you.”

“She was tough to crack. I had to go all the way,” said Jaebeom, as if it were of no consequence to him.

Jackson could practically hear sirens in his head and imagined himself being loaded in the back of a squad car in handcuffs with a satisfied grin on his face. “The two of you could make a go of it,” Jackson said, expression sour. “She could be the one to calm you down.”

“Pfft,” Jaebeom scoffed. “Me and her are you and Yeona, the before and after. We’re the same, you and I.”

That was the last straw. “We’re nothing alike,” Jackson snapped vehemently. “I’m just having fun. You’re trying to prove something. Matter of fact, you’re trying to spite a bitch that doesn’t even remember what your dick felt like.”

Jaebeom tensed with wrath and lowered his voice to something dangerous and threatening, “You’re lucky we’re inside or I would fuck you up.”

“The door’s right there,” Jackson hissed, though his muscles tensed in response.

The two stared each other down for a moment. You stood frozen in the aisleway, tray in hand, watching and waiting.

Then, Jaebeom scowled and rose from the seat.

You sighed in relief, knowing a brawl on the first day was not on your list of sights to see. Then, your heart clenched when you realized Jaebeom was striding toward you.

“Hey,” he called out.

With a groan, you whined, “Jaebeom, how many times do I have to tell you?”

“I wanna make peace.”

You deadpanned, “You wanna get back in my pants.”

Jaebeom slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I thought this summer we would pick up where we left off.”

You were tempted to take the tray in your hands and whack him over the head, but you would never disrespect and waste food like that. “You spent all last summer getting me into bed and you thought this summer I would just jump right back in. Do you really believe I think as little of myself as you think of me?”

Jaebeom shook his head. “Not at all.”

“You knew I had feelings for you. You convinced me that you felt the same way. You…”

Jaebeom interrupted with a soft, “Don’t.”

You could feel the conversation devolving. Emotions were pushing through. You whimpered, “We used to be friends, you know.”

Jackson watched it unfold, ready to jump in. The moment a tear escaped your lashes he would be ready to level Jaebeom into the fucking ground.

Jaebeom seemed to get frustrated. Maybe even losing his cool. “Will you just let me explain?”

You gaped. “There is no explanation for wounding someone that trusted you as much as I did.”

A voice suddenly appeared at your side, chiding, “Haven’t you done enough, Jaebeom?”

Jaebeom’s eyes widened slightly at the appearance of Yeona in your corner and he began, “Yeona, this…”

She looked at him with nothing but disdain. “Your motto is hit it and quit it, right? How about some follow through?”

You studied her in complete surprise, resisting a smile.

“You really…,” Jaebeom tried to argue.

“Begone, Satan,” she snapped, holding up a hand.

Jaebeom threw in the towel with ease. He had no desire to contend with Yeona in the middle of the dining hall. She was known for her volume.

You turned to her and said, “Thanks, Yeona. I guess I’ll never stop making a fool of myself, huh?”

She glared at Jaebeom’s back as he walked away and spoke with disgust, “He’s slime for what he did to you.”

You shrugged, feeling out of place. “I let him do it. What does that make me?”

She met your eyes, filled with compassion, and said, “I meant lying about being in love. I can’t imagine anything worse than that.”

You smarted, “Well, there’s climate change and world hunger and a Republican-controlled Congress…”

Yeona laughed and the sound was delightful. “You know what I mean.”

With the tray still in your hands, you elbowed her gently and whispered, “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

“Anytime,” she gleamed, elbowing you back. “You did the same for me once.”

The memory played across your mind and you replied softly, “Yeah, I did. Wow, I had almost forgotten.”

Yeona didn’t hesitate to loop her arm through yours and asked, “Wanna sit together?”

You nodded with a smile. “Sure, I would like that.”

Jackson watched you and Yeona striding together to the remainder of her clique. You were smiling like the two of you had been best friends for years. Jackson wrinkled his nose with another taste of bile on his tongue.

When you had finished most of your food, you leaned toward Yeona and whispered, “Listen, I’m really awkward about this, but Jackson is my friend and I want him to be happy.”

Her face lit up with curiosity. “What’s up?”

“He wants to watch the stars with you tonight.”

Yeona cocked a brow, skeptical. She and everyone on the east coast knew Jackson’s reputation as a playboy. “Really?”

“Yes,” you told her hurriedly. “I’m sorry if I visibly cringed. He’s my best friend. It’s hella weird to be doing this on his behalf.”

Yeona sized you up. Never in the years of camp did you approach a girl for Jackson. And that made Yeona feel special. It gave her a false inclination that Jackson was after something more.

“He’s a nice guy that Jackson,” she finally said.

You looked over at Jackson, simpering slightly to see him snarfing down more food. You were suddenly reminded of how he felt between your thighs and forced the thought from your mind.

“Yeah, a really nice guy,” you murmured.

Yeona nodded. “Tell him I’m down.”

When you relayed the news to Jackson back at his cabin, he beamed with delight.

“You’re a queen,” he announced. “You know that?”

“It’s been said by you many times,” you chuckled. “Just go. Have fun.”

Jackson gave you a parting kiss on the cheek as he always did and was halfway out the door when he called out, “Have a good swim.”

You had donned a bikini and a towel with the intent of visiting the pool. At night it was generally empty and you could swim a few laps in peace. You figured it would help you relax and clear your head.

Which was what you did.

As you swam back and forth, back and forth, your thoughts were a constant cycle of Jackson and Jaebeom. The sex with Jackson had been so mind-blowing and eye-opening that you couldn’t stop thinking about just how good it felt. Then, you circled back to Jaebeom and how badly your heart ached.

How much you still loved him.

He was all you wanted. You had spent the summer falling more and more in love with him. He had always been a friend that kept you at arm’s length. Jaebeom was mysterious and aloof, and you fell headfirst in the trap of him.

But you couldn’t stop being that naive little girl. Imagining a life with him. You pictured marrying him. You thought about the white picket fence around whatever house you got together. You wondered how many kids you would have.

It was sickening.

He made you want the life your mother had always planned on forcing upon you.

A large splash made you lurch up, surprised beyond measure when Jaebeom emerged from the water. He threw his head back, tossing the long hair out of his face, and he had never looked so damn intoxicating.

Your eyes met and your heart skipped a beat.

“I’m done playing games with you,” Jaebeom said, swimming nearer.

“Is that so?” you retorted, feigning indifference.

Jaebeom whispered, “Tell me you don’t want me.”

You stared him down, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lie. Of course, you wanted him. You wanted him with every fiber of your being.

At your silence, Jaebeom swam forward, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips to yours.

You cradled his head and kissed him back. You locked your legs around his waist, trying to trap him to you forever.

And you wracked your brain for what would make him stay.

Jaebeom kissed you harder and harder, roaming his hands up and down your sides as he bobbed in the pool. There was a slight catch in your breath with the rush of his kisses and Jaebeom could hear his pulse pounding in his ears.

You woke something in him. Jaebeom realized it the first day he spent without you. He needed it back. He needed that high, that rush.

Tugging at his hair, you broke away, breathing loudly. Jaebeom didn’t hesitate to latch his lips to your neck.

“I know what this is,” you panted, lashes fluttering.

“Tell me,” Jaebeom growled, lips smacking with wet kisses beneath your ear.

You gripped his hair tighter and draped an arm across his broad shoulders. “You’re mad I didn’t come crawling back to you,” you sighed, resisting a moan when you felt his tongue. “You wanted me to beg you to take me back so you could have the pleasure of saying no.”

Jaebeom kept sucking your neck and his voice was barely a whisper when he confessed, “I can’t get you out of my head.”

You wrestled out of his grasp and swam backwards, grabbing the edge of the pool and hoisting yourself up, but you kept your legs in the water, kicking them back and forth.

“If you’re gonna hurt me, then just leave me alone,” you sighed in defeat.

“I admit it,” Jaebeom said sharply. “You were the biggest challenge I ever had and I took it too far.”

There was no flicker of expression on your face. “Mm.”

Jaebeom approached you tentatively and said, “You got under my skin.”

“Imagine that,” you sneered. “I broke Lim Jaebeom.”

“I…,” Jaebeom hesitated, avoiding your eyes. “I know when it was all over and done with, I felt something for you. And I didn’t know what to do with feelings like that.”

That hurt you even more. He was more afraid of his feelings than breaking your heart.

“That’s sad,” you told him bitterly. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being. You know that, right?”

Jaebeom glanced up. Of course, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop. “Ouch,” he shot back.

You shivered in the cool night air, eyes falling from his piercing eyes to the wide expanse of his chest. Where you assumed a heart was beating in tandem with yours.

If there even was a heart in there at all.

“I gave you a part of myself and it meant nothing to you,” you continued, voice trembling. “You will never know what that feels like.”

Jaebeom was quick to counter, “I do know what it feels like.”

You rolled your eyes and snapped, “How could you possibly…”

Jaebeom looked away, frowning in contempt.

You tilted your head and muttered, “So the rumors are true? You do this to get back at a girl?”

Jaebeom shot you a glance and snapped, “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You lowered back into the pool, dipping down until the surface was to your neck. “Me of all people,” you asserted. “Yes, you do.”

Jaebeom groaned.

You swam back into his grasp, smiling faintly when he eagerly wrapped his arms around you. Taking his face tenderly in your hands and losing yourself inside the endless black of his eyes, you purred, “If you tell me, I’ll kiss you again.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, like the thought pleased him. Like he wanted nothing more in this world to kiss you. But not at the expense of bearing his soul. “It would take a lot more than kissing to get that out of me.”

You chuckled, tangling a loose lock of his hair around your finger and combing it off of his forehead. You wanted to kiss him so bad you couldn’t stand it. Feeling his body against yours drove you into madness and desire.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you said, “Let me ask you something.”

“Sure,” he replied.

His eyes were fixated to your face. Every tiny flicker across your features had his attention. No one had ever looked at him the way you did. The blue hue of the pool made you look otherworldly. And the stars danced in your irises.

Your voice was tender when you asked, “How many hearts do you have to break before yours will heal?”

Jaebeom grit his teeth. He didn’t deserve your compassion. Gathering you in his arms a little tighter, he began gliding around the pool, seemingly dancing with you beneath the moonlight. “I don’t know yet,” he ultimately answered.

“I want to be the last,” you coaxed, resting your head on the bend of his shoulder. “Don’t do this anymore.”

Jaebeom leaned his head against yours and chided, “How can you still care about me after what I did to you?”

You blinked. Because I’m in love with you. Because I've never felt about anyone the way I do about you. Because when I’m with you, I’m whole again. You broke me - only you can fix me.

“I wonder if the boy I loved last summer was the real Jaebeom, and this one is just the face he shows the rest of the world,” you spoke in his ear, traveling the gentlest touches of your fingers up and down his back.

Jaebeom snorted, rebuffing that notion. You thought more highly of him than he did. “Don’t get your hopes up, baby.”

“Trust me. My hopes are dead and buried,” you replied dryly, pulling back to meet his eyes one last time.

Jaebeom sighed when your lips met. His arms tightened around your waist, sensing you were about to leave him and wanting to dissuade you. This just felt so right. Even he had to admit it.

But Jaebeom knew he was defined by destroying whatever he touched.

There was no future for you and him. No chance of commitment or intimacy. Not when the world had beaten the heart and soul out of him. Jaebeom didn’t know how to love and he dared never trust anyone but himself.

You broke the kiss, lashes fluttering as you felt the threat of tears. “Goodnight, Jaebeom,” you whispered.

Jaebeom kept his hands on your body until you had completely slipped from his hold and swam to the edge of the pool. He watched you grab your towel and leave, never looking back.

He wiped a hand down his face, blinking the water from his eyes. He wasn’t sure of much, but Jaebeom knew he had to have you.

Stepping into Jackson’s cabin, you were pleased to find him taking off his watch and rings.

He looked up and asked cheerfully, “Hey, how was the pool?”

You trudged toward him with purpose in your step and asked harshly, “Did you sleep with Yeona?”

Jackson laughed, not yet noticing the way you closed in on him like an apex predator, and said, “Nah, not even close. It’s gonna take time to…”

You pulled off your towel and collided into him, smashing your lips on his.

Jackson grunted and took your waist in his hands, mumbling something against your mouth.

Your lips parted with a loud smack and you cradled his face firmly when you said, “Fuck me until I can’t think. Until I forget everything.”

Jackson’s pupils dilated and he knew exactly what you needed - and what had happened. He dipped down, hooking his arms beneath your thighs and hoisting you up.

You grinned at getting what you wanted, your racing pulse migrating down to between your thighs.

Jackson dropped you on his bed and hovered over you, rising long enough to pull the shirt over his head and across the room.

“So, you saw Jaebeom at the pool, huh?”

You grimaced. Nothing escaped your best friend. “Yeah.”

Jackson lifted on his knees, proceeding to unbuckle his belt. “He’s back in the game, you know,” he told you warily.

You lay there with hands at opposite sides of your head, pliant and waiting. “I know,” you admitted, more so to yourself.

Jackson pushed his pants down. “What do you need me to do?”

You covered your face, on the verge of frustration, and cried, “He makes me so fucking crazy.”

Something in Jackson’s chest clenched and he reached forward to take your hand, refusing to let you hide behind it. He kissed your fingers sweetly and made himself comfortable on top of you. “I’ll make you forget him, baby.”

“For a little while,” you sighed.

Those words weren’t lost on Jackson, but he couldn’t think past his desire to indulge in your body again. Your need made him so hard.

Lifting your leg high on his waist, Jackson whispered, “Only think of me.”

Your eyes rolled back and you hummed softly when Jackson began to kiss your neck. You knew then what a dangerous game this was you were playing, but as you felt Jackson’s weight on you, Jaebeom was slipping from your mind.

“Only you, baby,” you crooned in his ear.

And it was true. When you were with Jackson, all you knew was the passion you made together. To be with someone you trusted - mind, body and soul was all-consuming.

You were left to wonder how something could feel so right when it was being done for all the wrong reasons.

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[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Capt. Syverson-Chapter One: Evaluation

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Shane Benton gets a new patient, veteran “Sy” Syverson. He’s one of the most complex cases she’s had, in more ways than one. She thinks he’s already starting to like her and what’s worse...she feels the same.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None, really, mentions of war and trauma and some hate on the Chicago Cubs, but like…it’s not MEAN! (I’m a Missouri girl, and for the purposes of this fic, Sy is a Missouri boy, and we will bleed for our sports teams. Lol!)

A/N: Inspired by this post right here, and hopefully turning into some splendid fluffy and smutty stuff for my lovely Cavillry babes all around including the two that essentially forced me into this. Lol! (I’m thinking I’ll have at least three or four more chapters.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3.

Tags: @onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive

Let me know if you wish to be added to the list! I’m happy to do it! 

Shane was working on her morning's notes as she scarfed down her lunch. So many hand's-on patients made for a busy so called "lunch hour." Time which their boss was always reminded them was only half for their personal use, and could be taken away if census demanded. She was pretty sure it wasn't legal to make such threats, but thankfully, the secretaries usually had the therapists backs.

As she typed, she got a notification in her messenger app.

Just a head's up, your 1:30 is such a major babe I could barely look at him while I checked him in, so good luck with that.

Heather, one of her best friends in the office, had warned her, as she always did when there was a potential problem with a patient.

Oh, and his KOOS score is 27.5! Yikes! Shit, she'd seen arthritic grandparents with better scores on that test, which essentially rated your ability with the affected knee. Ideal was 100. She pulled up his chart review to see what she was getting herself into with this guy.

Tricare insurance, so, a vet. And only a year older than she was, so, recent discharge, or even active duty. She pulled up his order…shit. Traumatic tear of the anterior cruciate ligament. With damage to the medial collateral ligament as well. And a patellar dislocation. Repairs had been done, but this guy was in bad shape. He was going to be coming a while.

She replied to Heather.

Damn, that's bad. I'm looking at his order, and I'm already thinking I'm gonna want to try to keep him on my schedule if we can. And three times a week. If not with me, Jordan, if he's got openings. Can you start working on that when you have time?

Sure thing…I think you'll be glad you kept him on your caseload once you get a look at his face…and like all of him. Even on crutches, he's tall as shit!

Heather, come on. I'm a professional. I have a doctorate ffs. Lol

You also have a uterus, to the best of my knowledge, and it's about to explode. Promise.

Haha, okay. I'll be out for Prince Charming in about ten. Lemme pop a breath mint and run a brush through my hair.

Good call.

Shane did just that, but still pulled her dark hair back into her customary functional high ponytail, made sure there was no stray food on her shirt, and headed out of her treatment room for her patient.

As she walked down the hall to the waiting area to get him, she noticed a slumped and bearded figure leaning forward on a set of crutches, a KC Chiefs baseball cap slipping up off of his forehead revealing short cropped dark hair. She smiled at his repping one of her home teams, and stepped up to him, greeting him warmly, but formally.

"Mr. Syverson?"

"Ma'am." he said, as he adjusted his cap and stood immediately at attention, still relying on the crutches, but making himself as tall as possible. He really was a soldier. Despite her proximity to Fort Leonard Wood here in St. Robert, Missouri, she didn't see many military men.

"Hi, My name is Shane. I'm a physical therapist. I'm going to be working with you today."

"Oh, okay. They told me my therapists name was Shane, I figured…"

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Don't worry, I act like one of the guys. You'll hardly notice."

"I doubt that." he muttered, but she ignored it. She didn't know which would be worse. Him being a macho chauvinist who couldn't deal with a female therapist, or having a crush on her and making things weird. She'd had both. And it never ended well for her.

"Well, let's go have a chat in the treatment room."

They walked toward the room she'd just left, and when they arrived, she asked him to set on her plinth mat.

"Could you please verify your date of birth for me? Gotta make sure I got the right patient in here."

"May the 5th, 1983."

"Thanks, and the last four of your social?"

He told her, quietly, and against her will, a shiver ran up her spine at the softness the bear of a man exhibited in his voice when trying to maintain privacy. But she kept her composure.

"Excellent." she began typing her eval note, and asking him questions. He began telling the harrowing story of the mission, the mission that effectively ended his career in the military as he knew it. At lest, what he could tell her. Obviously some of it was classified, but certain details she would need to know in order to know how he it and how to treat him. She could tell he was trying to hold it together. Reliving the trauma was probably triggering to an extent. Her heart went out for the broad-chested, blue-eyed man.

"God, that's incredible. The fact that you're alive is amazing, Mr. Syverson."

"I go by Sy, ma'am. And as aware as I am of that, it's tough to feel good about it when some friends in my squad weren't so lucky." he examined the pattern on the tile floor as he rubbed the heel of his hand against the wide thigh of his injured leg. A nervous habit, she presumed. She had similar quirks.

"That must be difficult for you." she knew she was getting off-track from what she needed for her SOAP note, but after all, he was going to be on her caseload exclusively for the foreseeable future. She'd have time to flesh out the goals and basically finish the eval next visit.

"Yeah, but I know there's a lotta guys' got it worse'n me, ma'am."  

"We think that should make it better, but it never does. And if I'm calling you 'Sy,' you have to cut the ma'am business. It's Shane, even to my patients." she smiled.

"Sorry, m--sorry. Habits die hard."

"Just like John McClean." she chuckled, not expecting him to get her ridiculous movie humor. But he laughed.

"Did you just make a Die Hard reference?" he smiled, and the sunshine of it paired with the stunning blue of his eyes nearly sent her flying into the wall. Thankfully, she had something to occupy her gaze in the form of her laptop, where she tried to document on him.

"Did you just get one of my movie references? Because nobody around here appreciates that I'm a total movie nerd. I'm wasted on these people."

"Ya know, maybe you're right about feeling like I'm getting PT from a guy." he chuckled.

"I told ya!" she laughed, but tried not to let her heart sink too far.

The evaluation continued with her doing strength and range of motion measurements on his knee. "Okay, push against my hand…now resist when I push…now bring your foot back against my hand…and resist when I pull." she did this with both sides to compare relative strength. "Great job. Okay, I'm going to see how much range you have in your knee. Lay back on the table for me, please." she thought she saw a flirty glint in his eye, but again, she ignored it. She had a job to do. And it was to hold this goniometer up to his knee and see how many degrees of flexion and extension this man had in the joint while trying not to think any salacious thoughts about the thigh connected to it.

"Okay, now, listen, Sy, I know it goes against your instinct, but I'm looking for pain-free range of motion, here, so don't be a hero. Don't move it farther than you can without hurting it. And let me know if it starts to hurt when I move it."

"Yes, ma'am." he winked.

"I'll let that one slide, I guess." she giggled. She concentrated on the numbers she was getting from the big protractor, and typing them into her eval, and not the man lying before her.

"Okay, I'm gonna get the other knee now to compare for goals."

He nodded.

"Were you pretty active before this happened?" she was more or less making small talk, as she could tell by the condition of the rest of his body that he was incredibly fit.

"Yes, m--yes, I was. We had a gym on base, nothin' like what y'all have here, just some machines and a few free weights."

"No bikes or treadmills or anything?" She herself liked the elliptical, but knew it was a considered more of a girl's machine in the gym world.

"Nah, with electric being spotty where we were stationed, we sorta had to…get creative, I guess you could say, for cardio." she let it slide, apparently there was an inside joke to which she wasn't privy.

"Right, understandable. Well, here, we don't have to get that creative. I'm gonna put you on some equipment gradually, and just warm up the knee, then get to work on joint mobilization and myofascial release. But at this point in Dr. Potter's protocol, he only wants gentle stretching and weight bearing as tolerated. We can start a bit of strengthening after next week."

"So, you think I'll be back to running anytime soon?"

"We can make that a goal, Sy, because I can absolutely get you there. But you're going to have to take it slow. You've got not one, but three major injuries we have to contend with, and there is major trauma in there. But it will heal. With time and effort. And like I said, don't be a hero. The number one rule of therapy is 'if it hurts, don't do it.'"

"I'll hold you to that, m--Shane."

"You're a quick study, Sy. I think you'll be alright. Looks like Heather's put some appointments in for you already. If any of them don't work, call us, and we'll try to get them swapped. I'd like to keep you on my schedule as much as possible, but if there's a conflict in your schedule, any of our therapists will be terrific. And I'll make sure they're looking at your chart and protocol thoroughly before seeing you."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"Okay, I'm gonna print out your schedule for you, and a few exercise handouts I'd like you to work on, especially on days you don't come here. And I'll know if you don't do them, because you won't have improved…so, you better do them."

"Yes, ma'am." she half expected a salute. She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, maybe I'll give you three strikes on the ma'am thing."

"Baseball fan, too?"

"Not that three strikes is so obscure that I'd have to be to know it, but, yes! Major St. Louis Cardinals fan."

"I knew I was gonna like you from the start. Although, being brought up 'round Kansas City m'self, I'm more of a Royals fan."

"Hey, only time I don't root for KC is when they're playing my Redbirds. And even if my team loses to them, it hurts less than if they lose to, say…the Cubs." they shared a scowl of disdain for the Chicago team. "Although, I was happy for them and their fans when they won the series back in 16."

"Yeah, I guess we could afford to let them win one in a hundred years…I'm hoping their next one comes long after I'm in the ground." he chuckled.

"Can't have them getting a big head, can we?"

"Nope! Sure can't!" they both laughed at their mutual interest in dissing rival sports teams.

"Okay, I'll be right back with those handouts." she ran to the office all in one machine to grab the papers she'd printed for him, making sure they were all his and not another patient's. She put them in one of their folders and headed back to her room where he sat on the mat, waiting for her with a smile under his rather impressive beard.

"Before I let you out of here, what questions can I answer for you about what we did today?"

"Oh, uh, nothing comes to mind. You explained everything really well. Did you look at my schedule? Am I with you all the time?"

"Hmm, let's see here, looks like the next two, yes, but I'm off next week, so Heather put you with Jordan, which is what I asked her to do. You two will work great together and he's got a great instinct for injuries like this. And I'll talk to him before I leave. He's one of the best PTAs I've ever worked with, I promise."

"I guess, if you have to take a vacation. I'll see you next time though."

"I'm looking forward to it. That's when the real work will begin, Sy. And our number is on in this paperwork if you have questions, and I've put my card in here, too." they shook hands, and he grabbed the folder from her.

She saw him out of the room and into the lobby. She'd finished with him a bit early, but her next one was already waiting. She needed a break. To collect herself. To breathe.

"Jason! Hey! Go on and get on the recumbent bike, level two. Ride until I get there. We'll get a lot done today if you're already warmed up. I've got a note to finish. And then I'll be in. I should be 15 or less."

While the 19 year old with a torn meniscus hopped to her instructions, she went back to her computer to attempt to finish Sy's eval and pretend that she didn't already have a serious and intense crush on him. This was going to be a long twelve weeks…at least.

Up Next: Chapter Two-Therapeutic Procedure

[dobriking]

Bend Into A Break (1)

Summary: Not one, but two vlog-squads came with the death of Vine. And the rumored beef between you two is absolutely true! So, you and David (begrudgingly) set up a month long-retreat among your groups to film team challenges and go against each other. Y’know. For views. Pairing: David Dobrik x Readers, Enemies to Lovers, living together. Warnings: Profanity

1 | 2 | 3

“Y/n…I, I don’t know about this.” David sighs and pushes back your iPad.

And you grit your teeth, stomping gently and saying “David!” With a whine. Your emotional tactics (no matter how playful) have never had any impact on him. He simply shrugs, and with the reminder that your fluttering eyes and pouty frown do nothing to affect his decisions, you straighten out and go back to your less inviting face. One of anger, disdain.

“David come on, you know this would be great for the both of us.”

“Well,” he fills his cheeks with air before quickly letting out, “ I know. It’s just…”

“There’s the fans, the views. I know you just love selling 40$ T-Shirts. Think of the merch! Contrasting team colors. We could recreate every piece of clothing we wear in our videos. Wear nothing but that for the few vlogs — you get an average of a couple million views a video, right?” He nods. Likewise, you point to yourself. “Th-this is a good idea. It’s great marketing! Nothing gets people more riled up than picking sides but if we play it off as a fun little Youtube thing then there’s no bad press. Only fan publicity.” He opens his mouth but — “Even if nobody gets along behind the scenes it’s what we get on camera that matters and you know just as much as me that when our groups hang with each other it’s actually fun.”

It pains him being opposed to something so genius.

Though he scoffs at himself for pairing together you and the word ‘genius.’ You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?

The problem is if you’ll be able to get both of your squads to agree on not just this as a whole but a tiny, single thing.

Red for his team.

Blue for yours.

You could have bandanas, knee-high socks, and shorts for the more athletic challenges your two groups decide to participate in. If you go far enough you can even sell thermoses and Tupperware if you went ahead with color-coordinated eating.

Minus the formalities and getting ready for this event, the event itself would be fun.

He just wonders if he’ll be able to get through the initial torment of having to be around each other.

He rubs his eye and holds out his hand. He beckons the iPad and you slide it over. He’s yawning and couldn't look any more bored as he swipes through the presentation you put together for him. He almost looks a little too disinterested and bothered by it. You think to question but “I mean…yeah?”

He picks at his lips, puffing his cheeks up in ‘boredom’ but subsequently rubbing his palms all over them to hide their puffiness. “Gonna need to make some changes,” he murmurs.

And throwing your hands to the table you shout, “Well of course!”

His eyes jump to yours. He has his lips pursed, cheeks collapsed now which sharpens his jaw and cheekbones. His thick brows furrow too, and overall it is quite the good look. But enough about him — you’re genuinely happy you’ve come to some agreement, and he can’t deny it's a nice change in pace. Finally, you give him something real. For once.

You take your iPad from him and place it between you.

The presentation explains as follows: Over the course of one month, his vlogs would consist of at least one challenge per vlog (spliced between other daily shenanigans) on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Your channel too would consist of at least one challenge per vlog on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Somewhere in there you propose a live-stream or something your two channels could share on Sundays to aid the constant stream of content.

His team would dawn red clothes, and your team blue. You would be your team leader and he would be his team’s leader.

You had a photographer queued up (given David agreed) to take team-photos; a group photo for each, separate photos for each member, photos of each group’s corresponding members together, and an ultimate team versus team photo. So far the theme you had in mind for the photoshoot was sports (hence the idea for athletic shorts and sports T-shirts for merch). Your mind lingered over the possibility of a “War of the Roses” type situation but Zane Hijazi (who irks you purely because his jokes manage to bite so hard yet so effortlessly) organized the royalty-themed photoshoot for his 200th video.

Of course you guys watch each other. It’s the only way to keep your head in the game.

David picks at his lips again, imagining headbands, bandanas, knee-high socks, 70s shorts, even leg warmers. He isn’t focused entirely on the march or financial benefits of the event but he can’t deny both would wind up being fantastic in design and outcome.

“Uhm wh-what uh,” You dig through your bag and take out a notepad and pen, “changes did you have in mind?”

He reaches and makes an effort to sigh as obnoxiously as he can while scribbling some of his ideas down. Your brows twitch when you come across words you can’t comprehend, his handwriting so jumbled with how fast he wrote so he could get the hell out of here and think this over.

And you find his main idea quite…odd.

“An uh…?” Why on Earth would he want this?

He’s amused.

“You want us all to…what—a boarding school scenario?”

He blinks, previously lost in thought. “Yeah! Uh yeah just,” he takes the notepad and reads what he wrote over. Seems right. He slides it back and folds his arms over the table. His cheeks make even the slightest of smiles so incredibly poignant. It’s hard for you to tell if he’s casually smiling, grinning at your expense, or plain existing.

You admit it’s a good idea — two teams so notorious for being pitted against each other in the realm of Youtube not only performing casual competitions and questionable stunts for a minimum of two minutes a vlog each but in an environment where content is inevitable. Non-competition related stunts and shenanigans will still have a competitive spirit, and with you able to get content of the other’s team in a casual setting it’s going to be a lot harder to manipulate someone’s behavior through editing. Teams so notorious for being pitted against each other in the realm of Youtube living with each other, sure to hate one another’s guts for the entirety.

In this case, that entirety would be a month.

A month of shared living spaces.

A month of side-by-side editing.

A month of competing, a month of interacting.

David shrugs, shaking his head. “I dunno. We could find a place. I mean, we have what it takes.”

“Suppose we could, huh?”

He nods and writes more ideas down. You watch, fighting a smile seeing his little tongue poke past his lips.

He hums then leaves you in silence while collecting his thoughts.

Is this a good idea?

You know it is financially, career-wise. But like David, you wonder if the absolute torment your group will have to deal with at the hands of his own is worth any of this.

David gets up and hovers above his seat to collect his things. His eyes flicker and catch your confused face. He blinks rapidly, scrunching his face up and going “Oh yeah, uh,” before pulling out his phone and sending you a text.

Yes, you have each other’s numbers.

It’s a location (his home), time (1:30), and date (tomorrow).

“Bring your group.”

You stand with him. “oh no no no they uh — they have no idea about this.”

He shrugs and you swear he chuckles. “Well, neither will mine, so.”

David walks off but before he leaves he holds onto the shop’s doorframe. He turns and lazily gestures you and your space. “Good job by the way on all of this. Uh, actually a really good idea.”

Huh. “Thanks.”

[fool-moon830]

The Grand Legend of Alex Eywrm

My Mentor is a Omnipotent Powerful Dragon... And also a Pothead.

Eterna seoule Eterna vulvis Fatus

May my Fate be as eternal as my soul and my love

I froze, chills went down my spine, a frozen breath found its way onto the nape of my neck. I couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't breath. 

"H u m a n . . . T u r n    a r o u n d a n d F a c e   m e. . . "

I slowly turned around, eyes open wide in fear. A pair of eyes catch my gaze, round lapis lazulis with slits in the middle, a cloudy mist fills the air as this hidden atrocity lights a blunt, takes a puff, and  breaths mist into my face. I immediately start coughing badly, the smoke having a menthol-like effect, a frozen feeling straight down my throat. God its feels like a cough drop just got shoved down my throat. 

“N o t    u s e d t o   i t , I s u p o s e . . . ”

Still coughing from the cough drop second hand smoke, i look at this...thing with watery eyes and ask something quite stupid.

“w-what the hell are you?”

Let me explain why this was stupid. What this thing is, is a mother loving, omnipotent Grand Elder Dragon, straight outta the underworld. How do I know this? Eyes the color of unnatural ice, the stupid elongated tone of voice, the cough drop second hand smoke, which by the way is created by a cigar made from the menthollyptus plant, a bit of sliver dust, a bit of crushed Golden Shabaath, and the ashes of the Eboreal Ash, . And how do i know it's this specific combination of plants and metal dust? Because the burn in my throat and the dizziness of my eyes feels the same way as when i have to go to my pothead boss whose name I will not mention, who also is a dragon(a lesser dragon i believe). Not a stupidly powerful dragon as this one in front of me-

“W i l l   Y o u N o t   A d r e s s M e  B y M y

T i t l e ? ”

… did this dragon just read my-

“ y e s . . .   i d i d . ”

… this mother lovin dragon. His Name is Sytar, the Province of all that is Time. This is a Timelord, someone who could manipulate time at will, and is able to go back into the past and future at will. However, only those who can set in motion the future are Prophets, those who divine prophecies among Heroes. 

“H e r o e s-

“Can you just shut up with that stupid tone?”

“...and why should I, Mere mortal?”

“uhh...Because you came here to tell me something?”

“... that is true. Ahem. Allow me to propose some…Exposition.”

...what?

“What the genuine fuck are you talking about?” I ask in an actual concerned voice.

“...i'm just gonna give some exposition. Explain about heros.. Y'know, basic hero talk.”

“...why though? I already know about heroes and their grand and glorious exploits. I don’t need the exposition Sytar.”

“ its for the audience, idiot.”

“The what? What audience?” I look around for any signs of fades or missing bits of my apartment. Usually, grand dragons want to play around and recreate the rooms of their victims through illusionary magic. Also, they set up wireless connections and broadcast their mischief to major television channels. It's also one of Mia’s favorite shows, called The Fool’s Cage with NICK JOOOONES! Or something like that. I don’t watch much television. Just the forecast. Hopefully this isn’t that show.

“I’m not doing that Alex. Im too sophisicated for that dumb soap oprea. Also, who’s Mia?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Chill dude. I'm not gonna hurt her-”

“Just shut up.” I rub my head and sit down. This is just stupid. Why is this dragon in my room, why can’t I just sleep, and why is there still some delicious musty tea on my mug. Although it's cold now, so its just now mediocre musty tea. Taking a sip of my mediocre musty tea, I ponder the reasons of this dragon being in my already cramped room.

“If you would stop explaining stuff, i would tell you why.”

“Can you shut up?”

“Can you explain why you're being so rude mortal?” This thirteen foot monster with a sixteen foot tail, scales as pale as moonstones, with just a tinge of blue, and nails...or should I say claws, as black as coal, all wrapped up in a bathrobe lined with alpaca fur, and flip flops with small bunny ears...Mia would like these… and a long, girthy, absolutely unnecessary cigar, lit with a teal flame. Wow.. You must really have some worn out lungs huh Sytar?

“ as a matter of fact, my lungs are perfectly fine, thank you very much.” Just as the omnipotent dragon starts coughing like a 40 year old smoker. Don’t Smoke kiddos. 

“...anyway, as I was saying… Heroes are given a Prophecy by a Prophet to fulfill, as it is their purpose as a sworn and pledged Hero, and by receiving this blessing, they are given eternal life. That is, they stop aging at a certain age, and can choose how old they look...occasionally. Most heroes either look 20 or 30 years old. It is uncertain. However, a Hero can be slain, and its soul shall remain here. Until it has completed its prophecy, or has it’s soul devoured by a Devil, Or it is destroyed by some other manner, a Hero cannot rest. A Hero can only wait for its opportunity to arrive, or live out its days in misery...such is the tragedy of a hero..” The dragon wipes a petty tear of his cheeks with such unnecessary flair. I wasn’t paying attention though. While this high-of-his-rockers dragon blabbered on about what i already knew about Heros(they teach you this in middle school history, along with the history of this nation’s government, The Federal Foundation of Terrana) I texted Mia. I asked whether or not she wanted hotdogs or ramen hotpot with some delicious musty tea. She wanted the hotdogs and some actual tea. But I reminded her that delicious musty tea was actual tea. Then she sent me a gif with a Gonodorf wizard rolling its eyes and some text on top saying ‘when your roommate is a dad-joke loving dork but you be wanting some actual food’. Kids these days with their memes and what not. Though...Mia isn’t actually a child, she’s old enough to drive around the pier and order her favorite milk tea with boba. Although, she still wakes up early to watch her morning ‘anime’ instead of doing her online college work, and still asks for some SourPatch Dwarves, and still cuddles up to me when she has nightmares...Anyway, she then tells me that she’s bringing one of her friends back home, and she’ll come home in about 20 minutes. Shit! I face the high-as-a-skyscraper dragon and tell him to…

“Leave. Now.”

The dragon, whom took another puff of his cigar, which was now half the length before he arrived, responded in a rather concerning manner…

“Can I at least say that your a hero and explain that…” he takes a moment to recollect his thoughts… “to the audience?”

“N-no!” I manage to say before I start coughing again, accidentally breathing in the cough drop second hand smoke.

“Dude ...it's not that bad….” He really was lost now, gone beyond all hope.

“Look, Wannabe Sytar, Two people live in this household and one of them is not used to the smell of smoke at all, and you won’t shut up about all this hero nonsense, and look-” and another coughing fit ensued from all the cough drop second hand smoke. “J-just go. Come back when your not a bloody stoner” for fucks sakes...Alex rushes around the apartment, opening every window they had. The dragon chuckled and recited a familiar phrase. 

“There are Three curses a hero must avoid, lest they shall lose their lives. A Hero must always beware of a Dragon’s Wrath, A Madman’s Oath, and a False God’s Promise. You do know this, don’t you Alex?”

“Y-yes i know” said Alex with a sore throat. The second hand smoke was getting to him pretty badly. “Why bother telling me this?” the dragon sighed and went for another puff of his blunt, decided against it, and place it away in a pocket dimension. 

“Alex...i am a tempermental dragon, cursed with Devil’s Scawl. I cannot prevent a berserk state this late into my life. The scawl is as painful as a parasitic cancer can be. Therefore, I use medicinal herbs to ease my pain away. It just so happens to be in the form of a cigar. I know of the conditions in this household, and I’ll try not to overstay this welcome.” 

The air froze, particles of dust and smoke slowed to a stop, creating an interstellar, ethereal effect. It suddenly got a lot...colder...what the… 

“Alex. there is something I must tell you. We do not have much time…”

“... i'm listening.” I grab the chair to my desk and sit down, wondering at what will the dragon say.

“Alex Ewyrm, You are a Hero who has not taken the Pledge. You will be entangled in the strings of Fate, You will be enwrapped in a story much, Much more grand than you could ever imagine. You will lose, You will gain, and your actions as a Hero shall decide the Destiny of the whole Universe. Alex Ewyrm, Son of Eris and Terrice Ewyrm, and grandchild to a knight of the 13th Order to Maxwell’s Commandment Squadron, Warus Garne Ewyrm, Known as the Hero who drew the cursed blade-

“Exodus. . .”Alex sat there in shock… So this dragon was legitimate. No other dragon could have found out either his parent’s name, or the commandment in which his grandfather served. There was also the fact that Sytar knew about his inheritance, what was passed down, generation to generation.

“Yes. Exodus… the cursed sword Exodus. You see now, that i am Sytar, Providence to all that is Time. I came here to warn you. I shall lead your way, be your guidance, and provided mentorship when you need it most. That is my Pledge I will take as Sytar, Providence to all that is Time!”

...wait. Wait wait wait hold the hot pipe up! Is he suggesting..?!

“..are you saying… you want to be my mentor..?”

“Yes! That is what I pledge and that is what I shall do with pride and dignity!”

I groan and put my weary head on my hands. Why...do i have to be with this pothead…

“H-hey, i'm a nice guy, there’s no need-”

“JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP WILL YA?”

...then there’s silence...the smoke has long left the room. The dust has settled… on the entrance, a small but audible knock can be heard. Then, a voice.

“uhh...Alex...Are you Ok?”

[moodyandmoonyeyed]

Don’t You (Forget About Me)

Category: Stranger Things Characters: Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, The Party Word Count: 4728 Summary: Part 16 of Stories from Summer - “Recreating a cheesy moment from the movies of ‘85″

[A/N]: I’m so incredibly proud to be a part of this collaboration and also, bet you can’t guess which movie I picked (spoiler: it’s unfortunately not The Goonies).

“I bet I can drink this faster than you can,” Max goaded as her and Lucas made their way out of the convenience store and back into the heat. The sun was beating down on their faces, already melting the slushies they had just purchased giving only their fingers any respite with the cold condensation covering the plastic cups.

The summer of ‘85 was proving to be another brutal one. The party had been living in cooler weather for so long that they forgot just how hot mid July could be. Of course, they all preferred it to winter, when it was harder to ride around everywhere and they had to be bundled up in coats and scarves, but still. Anyone who spent more than two minutes outside knew that it was best to stay in air conditioned buildings for as long as possible.

Everyone that was, except for Max. Growing up in California, she was used to higher temperatures and anything below 75 sent her running for a jacket. It always made Lucas laugh and shake his head at how absolutely stubborn she could be when it came to the weather. If she thought it was cold, there was no point in arguing with her because she’d never let up, and while her points never made any real sense (like the time she tried to convince everyone that her hair was frizzier that day because it reacted badly to the cold), her conviction was so strong that you thought for maybe a few seconds she could be telling the truth. But Lucas loved being right and hated losing just as much as the redhead so at this tempting offer at proving who was best, he couldn’t stop the small shiver of adrenaline that ran through him.

“I highly doubt that,” he replied, taking a big slurp and revelling in the feel of the ice traveling down his throat, relieving his body of heat for just a few seconds.

“Well let’s just test it out then,” she said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face him, hand on her hip and determination settling on her face. Her eyes were squinted in the bright sunlight but he could still make out a glimmer of the same thrill that was probably rushing through her at the prospect of a winner takes all game.

“Okay...what are the rules?” he asked, always the logical one.

“Easy enough, whoever finishes their slushie first wins.” Max rolled her eyes at his total ridiculousness over the small things. She loved the guy and all (in a 100% friends but we happen to be dating sort of way), but sometimes he was too much.

“Well yeah, but like...if we’re gonna make it a bet then we need to decide what the loser will do,” he explained, exasperated that she hadn’t caught on to what he meant.

This one stumped her. She hadn’t really thought past just poking fun and seeing if he would actually race her in drinking the cold beverage, probably resulting in some serious brain freeze and a deliciously cold stomach ache. “How about...winner’s choice? Like...when I win I’ll decide then what I’ll make you do,” she decided, smiling at the triumph she could already feel tingling in her fingertips.

Lucas let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah right. First of all, I’ll be the winner at the end of this, just you wait. I’ve done this plenty of times with the others (not necessarily true) and all of them have yet to beat me (definitely not true),” he boasted, clearly proud of himself with his shoulders back and chest puffed.

Max rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile at the boy in front of her. Sometimes she wondered how they managed to hang out at all without constantly ripping into each other. They always seemed to be betting or bickering or full on fighting about something. But then Lucas would do something like offer her half of his candy bar in the middle of the spat or just look at her with clear adoration in his eyes or do what he was doing now and just not back down and it would remind her that she was best friends with him because no matter how bad the argument got, it never affected their relationship, and it was always fun.

“Second,” Lucas continued, clearly not realizing that Max was deep in thought about him, “I’m not going into this blindly, oh no. I wanna know what I’m getting myself into before I decide whether to put my fate in your hands,” he pointed out, crossing his arms.

“If you’re so sure you’re going to win then why be bothered by it at all?” she poked. They had started walking again, back to the park where they had left their friends, because clearly this was going to take some convincing.

Lucas let out a string of sputtering noises, not knowing how to rebuke the notion that he was at all in fear of losing.

“Got you, didn’t I?” she laughed, squinting up at him. The sun was hitting his skin in a way that made him look like he was glowing with sunlight himself and her next breath stuck in her throat with how stunning the sight was. Unfortunately, it also meant she didn’t see the uneven sidewalk in front of her and the toe of her vans caught on the ridge, jolting her forward. She could see it now, the hospital visit and the stitches, and the tension at home from it all, and that thought knotted her stomach tighter than the anticipation of the actual pain she knew she’d be feeling.

As she closed her eyes and accepted her fate, she felt someone’s hand grab her arm and stop her just inches away from pummeling into the pavement, and pull her back to her feet.

“Are you okay?” she heard Lucas ask, worry lacing his voice.

Max chuckled with relief and nodded, trying to shake the nervous tears out of her eyes before looking at him. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said a little breathless. “Thanks.”

His shoulders relaxed with the release of the tension he had been holding in them and he smiled, squeezing the hand he was still holding. “I’m just glad you didn’t spill your slushie. How else was I supposed to beat you?” he joked.

“Ha ha, very funny. Although I guess I will pick a less severe punishment for your eventual failure. Y’know, for saving my life and all.” She motioned at the ground and carefully stepped over the crack that had almost sent her skidding.

“Oh, how kind of you.”

“I know. I’m a real peach,” she laughed, smiling up at him with a huge, fake grin.

“But seriously, we have to decide on actual things,” he pushed as they finally reached the park.

“How about…” she looked around at everyone else that was there to have fun, pushing kids on swings and running around in games of tag or kicking a soccer ball back and forth in the grassy field next to the slides. Her eyes clicked on the party, and more specifically El whos ears seemed to sparkle in the bright summer light. The young girl had just gotten her ears pierced the day before and she loved pushing her hair back to show off the tiny gold hearts with small rhinestones set in the middle, making it clear to everyone that she was incredibly proud that she got to do normal things finally. This gave Max an idea. “How about if I win, you have to pierce your ear,” she smirked, turning her back to their group and looking him straight in the eye.

She saw Lucas visibly gulp, but as no one would (technically) be getting hurt and nothing embarrassing could potentially come to fruition through the small act, she knew he wouldn’t be able to back down. He solemnly nodded and cleared his throat. “Deal.”

“Okay, but what about if you win?” she asked, realizing that there was real merit in knowing what you were getting yourself in to. Maybe he was rubbing off on her after all this time.

He put a finger to his chin in mock thought and took several large looks around the playground, obviously trying to keep her in suspense for as long as possible.

“If I win, you have to cut your hair,” he decided with a smirk of his own.

“What? No way! That’s way more drastic than getting your ear pierced,” she complained, anxiety filling her stomach.

“Except I’ll be going through physical pain,” he argued, subconsciously tugging at his earlobe, already feeling a phantom sting. “Plus, you’ve been talking about doing this all summer; you just haven’t worked up the guts to do it. Technically, I’m going easy because I’m giving you something you already want.”

“Except that I haven’t done it because I don’t want to do it, obviously,” she said, voice a little hesitant in the sort of lie. It was true, she had been thinking about cutting some of her hair off. It was just so hot and while she enjoyed the heat, the humidity wasn’t her favorite and it was sending her hair into frizzy messes. Every morning was a twenty minute struggle to untangle all of the knots that formed overnight, and she figured it’d be easier to manage if she chopped off a few inches. But she was still entirely scared of having it done, and wasn’t sure she was okay with it being forced on her.

“Well?” Lucas pestered, tapping his foot in impatience.

She let out a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes, sticking her hand out. “Fine,” she grumbled. After all, she was asking him to stick a needle through his ear.

He let out a whoop of laughter and shook her outstretched hand before finishing their way back to their friends.

“What’s all the cheering for?” Mike asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. With these two there could be all sorts of shenanigans about to go down.

“Oh nothing,” Lucas said in a fake blase tone that clearly meant something was up. It didn’t take long however for his face to contort with impish glee as he cackled out their plan to the party, and Max was suddenly terrified of just how competitive this kid was.

“Calm down, Stalker, it’s not that serious,” she half-laughed.

“Oh it’s very serious,” he said almost solemnly.

“Well you might as well do it now before the slushies finish melting,” Will pointed out to the two of them. In all of the thought and worry that went into planning the bet, neither one of them had realized that the sun had turned their drinks to almost complete liquid. This boded well for both of them since it’d be easier to suck down, but it also struck a stronger note of fear in their hearts since they knew the competition would be neck-in-neck.

“Are you ready?” Dustin asked.

Lucas and Max both nodded, turning to face one another, cups raised and straws ready as if they were about to have an actual fight.

“Would you like to do the honors, El?” Dustin asked.

The girl nodded vigorously, always thrilled to be included in any crazy schemes the others got themselves into.

“On your mark,” she started, just like she had seen them do for races at the Fourth of July picnic the Wheeler’s had held. “Get set.” She paused for maximum effect, before filling her lungs with enough air to shout loud enough for the whole park to hear, “GO!”

Max and Lucas jumped at the volume of the word before shoving straws in their mouths and slurping at the syrupy ice as fast as they could. Neither of them paid attention to anything other than the task in front of them and the prize they both thought was just in reach.

“Go, go, go!” Will shouted with glee, a huge smile spreading over his face. It had been months since the Mind Flayer incident but he still felt the need to cherish each moment he spent with his friends, scared that the monster would come back for him.

“Honestly, I hope Max wins,” Dustin debated with Mike. “How funny would it be to see Lucas get an earring,” he laughed. He had gotten over his initial resentment to the two of them being together and was enjoying just having Max as another friend to nerd out with.

“Yeah but if Lucas wins we can all finally stop listening to Max complain about her hair,” Mike griped, rolling his eyes. Things were definitely better between the two of them but they still got on each other’s nerves and argued all the time. Not the way that Lucas and Max did, with some weird layer of affection filling each battle of wits they had, but more like how he and Nancy argued. Like you could say whatever you wanted but at the end of the day it didn’t matter because you were bonded for life.

“I’m too scared to look!” El exclaimed, covering her eyes but peeking through her fingers. There was such a thrill coursing through her veins just in being out in the open, surrounded by strangers, and having a real moment with her friends. It was days like these that El wished she could just borrow one of Jonathan’s cameras and take all of the pictures so she’d never forget a single second. She had spent so many days locked in the lab and then locked in the cabin, worried that she’d never get to experience these things that when she did, she was filled with a sense of dread of forgetting them, and she hated that such happy memories were always tainted with fear.

Eventually, the last slurps were heard and Max threw her cup to the ground, raising her hands in victory as she saw that Lucas had bent over, hand to his head, the drink too cold for him to handle.

“Whoo hoo!” she screamed, running around the small group in victory laps. “I told you I’d win, Sinclair!”

Lucas was still bent double, now in just as much shame and defeat as pain, but no one could see that he was still smiling at the ground, happy for his girlfriend. “Congratulations, Mad Max,” he choked out, finally straightening up and pulling her in for a hug.

“Stop being mushy, Stalker, I just beat your ass. Let me celebrate,” she groaned, shrugging him off and continuing to run around shouting out her own accolades.

The rest of the group just shook their heads in laughter, not wanting to end Max’s happiness any sooner than it really needed to, while Lucas just stared on in admiration.

Finally she put her hands to her knees to take some deep breaths, winded from the running and screaming, but a smile was still plastered across her face and she couldn’t stop the elated chuckles from escaping every few seconds. “Oh wow,” she breathed heavily. “I really thought I wouldn’t win there for a second,” she admitted shaking her head in awe at herself. “I like started to choke at one point and thought that was the end but...wow,” she continued, taking deep breaths every few words. “Whoo,” she said, finally straightening up and whipping her hair into a ponytail to get it off her sweating neck. “Hey, now I don’t have to cut my hair!” she claimed gleefully.

“Ha ha, Lucas has to get his ear pierced,” Dustin mocked, pointing at his friend.

“So when are we gonna go do this?” Mike asked, a look of excitement on his own face. He had to admit this would be fun to watch. “The sooner the better right? Otherwise you’ll just overthink it. Do we know anyone who can pierce ears?”

“I can do it,” Max said.

“Um no? I’m not letting you stick a needle in my ear, no thanks,” Lucas denied quickly, backing away in slight fear of her.

“Oh c’mon. I did it for a couple of friends back home! It’s not that hard. We just need ice, some rubbing alcohol, and a needle. Well and an earring,” she explained, ticking each thing off on her fingers. “We’ll just head to my house now. No one’s home anyway so we’ll be fine.”

The others all cheered and started to head towards their bikes, ready to watch the bet be carried out, but Lucas lagged behind, wanting to put this off for as long as possible. He was glad that Max had won - he always loved it when she got so excited she couldn’t contain it - but he had to admit that he was really scared of this. He was terrified of needles and honestly thought he was going to win himself which is why he had agreed to the bet in the first place.

Max fell back into step beside him and grabbed his hand, knowing that he was having second thoughts. “You don’t have to do this, y’know. It’s just a dumb bet. I probably wouldn’t have ever cut my hair anyway if you had won,” she laughed.

Lucas shook his head. He may be scared but he was more stubborn than that and wouldn’t fail to see this thing through. “No. We shook on it, I have to go through with it. I’m just...a little nervous is all,” he admitted, a blush creeping up on his face, adding to the heat of the day.

“I get it. The buildup to it was the worst. I hated it, especially since I don’t even wear usually earrings anyway, which is why I’m offering you an out. We can make another bet if you want,” she amended. “I’ll even let you win this time so you don’t have to lose twice AND get your ear pierced,” she said.

“Max, I’m serious. I’m gonna do this because I said I would. I’m a man of my word,” he joked, poking her in the side.

She chuckled some more and stopped to wrap her arms around him in a hug.

“Thanks,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for exactly, but it felt right to say.

“Isn’t it too hot to be hugging like that?” Mike called out to him, straddling his bike with El behind him.

“Like you have any room to talk, Wheeler,” Max called back, rolling her eyes.

They made it to Max’s house in record time and ten minutes later they were all piled in the bathroom. It was a tight fit so Dustin and Mike were in the shower. Being the taller two of the group (or at least of the ones that weren’t getting their ears pierced) it was the only logical place to stand so El and Will could see too.

Lucas was perched uneasily on the toilet, hands tapping against his bouncing legs, letting out huge breaths every once in a while.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Will asked, placing a hand on his shoulder in concern.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be fine. Just don’t like needles,” he muttered, another pang of anxiety hitting him in the gut.

“Found it,” Max said, finally entering the bathroom herself, all of the necessary items in tow. “Okay, this is probably gonna bleed a little, but I promise it’ll only hurt for a few seconds,” she reassured Lucas, making sure that he looked her in the eyes to see she was being serious.

“How would you know? You had yours professionally done!” he said, fingers knotting together.

“I told you! I’ve done this on plenty of people and they’ve all said it only stings a little bit. Plus, it’s not like the pain is different just because of the method. Don’t you trust me?” she asked, giving him a playful glare, and cleaning the needle with a rubbing alcohol wipe that she had found in the medicine cabinet.

He sighed. “Of course I do.”

“Well then stand up!”

Lucas got to his feet, albeit a little unsteadily, and gripped the sink for support.

“Okay. I’m gonna use the ice cube to numb it, and then I’ll poke it through. I’ve brought you the least ostentatious earring of the one’s my mom has bought me throughout the years,” she said, holding it out for everyone to see.

It actually wasn’t the worst. Just a small gemstone that plenty of people would find completely normal for him to wear.

He nodded and took one last breath before screwing up his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch any of this going down in the mirror. The room was filled with a palpable tension and everyone was on the edge of their seats. Or they would be if they had seats.

Max took a deep breath of her own and put the ice to his ear lobe, holding it there for a count of what would have been twenty seconds if around 13 Lucas hadn’t started complaining that it was cold and he had already suffered one brain freeze so couldn’t they just hurry this up? She nodded even though he couldn’t see it and after three more seconds, threw the cube into the sink and stuck the needle through.

The next few moments went by in an odd paradox of slow and fast. It couldn’t have been more than seven seconds but to Lucas, the pain of the needle felt drawn out for so much longer and his shout caused everyone to cover their ears, including Max who was still clutching the bloody needle. It threw everyone into their own oblivion’s of climactic anticipation and relief, and they held their hunched poses for just a little bit longer. Through the stinging in his ear, and the burn of tears in his eyes, Lucas realized he was on his own for this next part and steadily as he could, picked up the earring and fitted it into place in the new hole Max had created in his lobe.

Finally, his heart started to slow down and the pain in his ear started to ebb. “Okay. It’s done,” he announced.

One by one it seemed, the party drew their hands back to their sides and stared at Lucas’s new reflection in the mirror. There was still a small trail of blood trickling down his neck, but also a sort of prideful gleam in his eyes as if to say, ‘someone else come at me.’

Silence filled the small, cramped bathroom for several minutes as everyone revelled in the culmination of a crazy bet, and they all knew, this was a story they’d carry with them forever. Sure nothing eventful had truly happened, but just the wave of emotions and the atmosphere that almost sparked with the thrill of a summer adventure made this one a permanent memory.

Several hours later, after El had broken the bubble they had surrounded themselves in with an extremely giddy ‘well I like it’, and everyone had laughed, and they carried on over to Lucas’s house so he could get a fresh shirt, and they could play video games and while away the rest of the sunlight, Lucas and Max were sat on the curb outside, as the sun started to dip below the horizon.

“I can’t believe you actually did it,” Max laughed, looking at the reflecting stone that sparked off of his ear.

“Honestly I can’t believe I did it either,” he admitted, a sheepish grin settling on his lips.

“You’ve always been brave like that,” she muttered, ducking her head to his shoulder and placing a soft kiss there.

“Well, thanks,” he said, a shiver running down his arm. “You know you’re pretty brave too,” he told her after a few seconds of staring at the sun.

She laughed sardonically at herself. “Please. I told you, I wouldn’t have gone through with it if you had won.” She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends that were still mercifully in place. After today and the fear of maybe having to actually say goodbye to some of it, she knew she’d never cut it now.

“I think you would have,” he told her, pulling on a strand hanging in her face.

“You have a lot more faith in me than I do myself then,” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her chin on them.

“No seriously. I think the relief of not having to do it is making you believe you never would have done it. But I got my ear pierced, and I think you would have cut your hair,” he explained, poking her arm.

She looked over at him and watched the way the sun turned his eyes a more milky brown than usual. A slow smile crept along her face as well as a blush and she had to bury her head in her arms to keep it from being noticed. Sometimes she couldn’t handle just how much she felt for Lucas.

Maybe it was the summer or just that her feelings were growing stronger, but each day her stomach did more flips and filled with more butterflies of anticipation for the future. She didn’t know if they’d always be like this, but something about the endless days and the constant sun and the merriment of everyone around them had her believing that maybe it could be.

Summer had always been Max’s favorite season, but with Lucas by her side, she knew she was beginning to only feel the true joys of what it had to offer her. It was a time of endless possibilities and hope and fun and everything that a young relationship should be. After the demise of her parent’s marriage, Max was sure she’d ever feel that way about someone, all ideas of princes and fairy tales immediately dashed from her dreams. And maybe Lucas was no Prince Charming, more like Prince Asshole usually, but everything about what they had was special in it’s own way.

“I should be going,” she said, finally pulling her head from her arms and realizing that the day had quickly descended into darkness.

“Yeah, alright,” Lucas said, standing up and holding a hand out for her.

“Thanks,” she said, brushing off the seat of her shorts and grabbing her skateboard from the lawn beside her.

She studied him for a few seconds before deciding something. “You know...El says she likes it, but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Maybe I picked the wrong thing,” she chuckled, head cocked to the side. It didn’t necessarily look bad, but it didn’t suit him well either. Lucas was always a person to do everything for the look of things. Every adventure they went on was clearly laid out and designed with a careful attention to detail all on Lucas’s part. The matching bandanas he had gotten them all and the army tools and war paint. This earring just wasn’t living up to its potential of everything that was Lucas.

“Yeah I was gonna take it out before bed anyway,” he laughed, pulling at it. It had started to itch and he wasn’t sure how sleeping with it in was going to go. He took it out and picked up Max’s hand, placing it in the palm and wrapping her fingers around it. “Always remember me,” he joked, as if this were some sad summer ending and they’d never see each other again.

She rolled her eyes and pecked him on the lips before remembering the moment in ‘The Breakfast Club’ where Molly Ringwald gave Judd Nelson her earring. A sly and somewhat cheesy grin spread on her face and she took an extra alcohol wipe out of her pocket and wiped the earring down before placing it in her ear.

Lucas immediately knew what she was referencing and shook his head at her antics. “You’re so weird, Max Max,” he laughed.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Stalker,” she said, shooting him one last grin before hopping on her board and speeding away.

About halfway down the street and in the last little bit of light provided to them, Lucas saw Max throw her arm up in the air in a fist pump.

[ @freshxbloom ] [ @strange-thangs ] [ @maplestreet83 ] [ @martiegalwrites ]      [ @partwayhappy ] [ @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold ] [ @janeswheeler ]        [ @cstlebyrs ] [ @formerlyjannafaye ] [ @jane-el-hopper ] [ @themikewheelers ]    [ @elizabthturner ] [ @the-proud-princess ] [ @itcouldbendoritcouldbreak ]           [ @scottsclarke ] [ @the-most-beautiful-broom ] [ @hannahberrie ]                        [ @dancingskygreen ] [ @mileven-and-contemplation ] [ @eddieksgazebos ]        [ @mikeswheeler ] [ @jopper-chopper ] [ @earlgreyteagirl ] [ @mikeswheelers ]      [ @michael-hearteyes-wheeler ] [ @stevemossington ] [ @thezoomermax ]           [ @bubblynancy ] [ @mothersnail ] [ @writer-lia ]

[berrynarrybanana]

A/N: I hope this is good enough for that anon that requested it ages ago! I’m sorry it took me so long to write and post it but I hope you enjoy! 

“The emergency contact sheet is on the counter and the restaurant’s number is on there too if you can’t get ahold of us,” Niall’s hands tightened on your waist as you talked quickly. He was trying to guide you out of the house slowly, but surely, and you weren’t budging. “Her schedule is right next to it. She shouldn’t have dinner until seven and she shouldn’t be in bed before eight thirty or else she’ll wake me up at three in the morning and she won’t go back to bed.”

“Darlin’,” Niall said softly, sliding in front of you with a sympathetic grin. “We have to go, alright? We’ll be back in a few hours, okay? Dad’s got this under control.”

“Did raise two boys, ya know?” He chirped from behind Niall, bouncing Maeve on his hip as Niall chuckled, shaking his head.

“It’s going to be just fine,” Niall’s hands rubbed up and down your arms gently as he nodded, looking back at his Dad with Maeve. “She probably won’t even notice we’re gone.”

“Niall, she’s a baby, not an idiot,” You groaned.

“Darlin’,” He warned gently. “It’s gonna be just fine. Don’t make me carry ya outta here, because I will and ya know it.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” You grumbled, hiking your purse further up on your shoulders as you huffed out, looking up at Bobby. “Thank you, Bobby. Please don’t hesitate to text us if something is wrong, okay? I promise I’ll answer.”

“Don’t text us Da’, ya have everythin’ under control and she won’t have her phone on her anyways. Call me if ya need me.” Niall, guided you towards the door as you scoffed loudly. “Love ya Da’, by Maeve! Mummy and Daddy will be back soon!”

“Niall!” You screeched. “Niall I’m not leaving my phone!”

“I’ll have it, it’s fine,” He shrugged, opening the front door as Bobby chuckled. “It’s goin’ to be just fine. He’s raised two kids and he watches Theo all the time. I trust him and you should too darlin’, he’s her grandfather.”

“I do trust him!” You cried out as he shut the door to your home, guiding you down the stairs as you drug your feet along, pouting. “I just, it’s hard to leave her Niall. I haven’t been away from her since she was conceived, that’s like thirteen months!”

“It’s fourteen,” He corrected you gently, opening up the car door with a smirk. “And she’s not even going to notice we’re gone, Darlin’. It’s a few hours, not a few days. I know this is hard-“

“Do you?” You snapped. “You seem perfectly fine to just leave her here!”

“Hey!” Niall said firmly, his face dropping as soon as you spoke. “Ya know that’s not true and it’s not bloody fair for ya to say that either. I love my little girl and I hate leaving her, but I know that I’m coming right back to her. Now get in the bloody car so we can enjoy our damn anniversary ya insane and rude woman.”

“Niall,” You said softly, sighing as he clenched his jaw. “I didn’t mean it like that. It just looks easier for you. You don’t seem phased at all and I can’t even walk out of the fucking door without wanting to break down.”

“It’s hard for me too, Darlin’ really hard,” He said softly, clearing his throat as he tried to avoid looking right at you. “She’s my baby and I love her more than anyhin’ in the whole world. But I know that I’ve gotta go away sometimes. It’s just like leavin’ ya behind. It’s never easy but it’s somethin’ that’s just gotta be done.”

“You’re an amazing father, Niall,” You walked forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you wrapped your arms around him. “I’m sorry I’m such a pain in the ass.”

“You’re my favorite pain in the ass,” He smirked, brushing his nose against yours before kissing you softly. “Now get in the car. We’ve got plans.”

//

You’d been in the car for about thirty minutes now, stuck in traffic.

Niall seemed thoroughly upset about it as he huffed and puffed, looking at the time and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. As far as you were concerned, you weren’t on a time restriction and you weren’t exactly scheduled to be anywhere. Niall really had taken your phone from you and he’d dropped it in the compartment on his door so that you couldn’t get it back while he was driving. You reached over to rest your hand on his thigh, giving it a soft squeeze as he groaned loudly, the cars creeping forward just slightly before stopping again.

“Niall,” You said softly. “It’s fine, right? It’s just a little bit of traffic.”

“We have to be somewhere though,” He mumbled, pulling his phone out of the cup holder to glance at the time. “And it’s important that we get there now because it might rain sometime soon.”

“A little rain never hurt anyone,” You smiled gently at him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Darlin’,” He grabbed your hand, smiling softly at you as he shook his head. “It’s sort of an outdoor activity, if it rains, it’s gonna be ruined.”

“It really doesn’t matter what we’re doing though, as long as we’re together,” You said as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “Remember our first date?”

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, trying to fight off the smile on his lips. “It was almost exactly like today, expect today I know it’s going to rain so it won’t be that much of a surprise.”

“And hopefully today I won’t get smacked in the face with a soccer ball,” You snorted, reaching up to rub over the spot on your jaw that was hit many years ago. “And hopefully our intrusive and not so subtle friends won’t be there either.”

“They just wanted us to be together,” He chuckled. “They were right setting us up, don’t ya think?”

“If they hadn’t tricked us into a first date we wouldn’t have Maeve,” You whispered, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “Guess they did a pretty good job setting us up, but the rest was all us.”

//

When you finally got to where you were going, it was pouring.

Niall was upset as he parked the rover, cursing as you smiles widely. It was the park where you’d met, the park where you’d had your first date. You didn’t care much about the fact it was pouring outside, you were touched by the fact he was bringing you back here. After five years of being together, he was taking you back to the place it all began. Niall turned the radio down as he glanced down at his phone.

“Niall,” You said. “This is so sweet of you, I can’t believe you brought me back.”

“It’s kind of ruined though, it’s pouring,” He sighed. “Darlin’, I am so sorry about this. I wanted to take ya down memory lane. I had the whole day planned out and the ending was supposed to be really special.”

“This is still special,” You said quickly. “The rain didn’t ruin it the first time, did it? Let’s not let it ruin today either, Niall.”

“I don’t know how I got so lucky with you,” He had a fond smile on his lips as he shook his head. His phone started buzzing in the cup holder, catching his attention. He snatched it up quickly so you didn’t really have a chance to look at who was calling. “Hello?....Yeah, we’re here….now ya know how it bloody feels to be rained out….well thank ya for the effort Freddie….just bring the bloody basket to the car we’ll eat here…By the oak tree….yeah.”

“Freddie is here?” You smiled as Niall hung up. “Is Sandy with him?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper recreation of our first date without ‘em would it love?” He smirked over at you, shaking his head. “They were gonna set up the picnic for us and watch it until we got here. But since it’s pissing down like cats and dogs, we’ll just have our picnic in the car before we move onto our second step.”

“Niall, you don’t have to have all of this stuff planned. I would be so happy just spending time with you, you know that?” You said softly, reaching over to grab his hand. “This is so sweet of you, thank you so much Niall.”

“I wanted ya to have a good time, to enjoy yourself on your first day out without the little one. You deserve to be spoiled and treated every now and then and I just wanted to show ya how much I love ya.” He squeezed your hand back. “So let’s enjoy our picnic before I take ya out to our second event of the day.”

//

After the picnic in the car, Niall whisked you off again.

You weren’t exactly sure where he was taking you until you turned down the familiar road. There was a little lake house back down this road, the place you’d spent your first weekend getaway. You hadn’t been back since that weekend but you absolutely loved the little cabin. You always joked to Niall that when you won the lottery you’d buy the little lake house and make it a vacation home. You wondered who owned it now, if it was still used as a rental property. As Niall parked the car, the smile on your face grew wide. The rain had long gone and the sun was shining on the wet grass.

“Let’s get out, I have something to show you,” Niall said softly, opening up his door with a toothy grin. You opened your door, stepping around as he put his hand on the handle, holding it open for you as he grinned.

You took Niall’s hand as you walked up the porch steps to the front door, Niall pulling a key out of his back pocket. You watched as he opened the door, squeezing his hand with excitement as he pushed the door open. It was completely empty inside. The hardwood floors were bare and all of the walls had been painted a stark white. You frowned, thinking about how beautifully decorated the home was before. It was all gone now and you were a little sad thinking that those memories you’d made here were gone now. Niall pulled you through the foyer towards the living area.

“Now, they’ve gutted it out and redone the walls because I wasn’t sure if you wanted to decorate it yourself,” He said softly, turning around to look at you as you stopped in the living room.. “I think we could really make this place our own, ya know? It’ll be a great little summer home for us and the kids and all their friends.”

“Niall,” You said softly. “What’s going on?”

“I bought it,” He said softly. “Ya wanted it so bad and I know how much ya loved our weekend here. I wanted ya to have this. It’s a great investment and we can really work on it together. I think it’s the perfect summer home.”

“So you just bought it?” A soft smile creeped up on your lips. “Just like that?”

“You wanted it so bad, Darlin’, and I vowed to always give ya everything ya wanted,” Niall said softly as you slipped up closer to him. “So yeah, just like that.”

“Niall,” You whispered, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you so, so much. I don’t think I can ever truly show you just how much.”

“You show me every day Darlin’,” He pressed his lips to yours softly a few times, squeezing his arms around you. “Now, we’ve had our lunch and our cocktails, you’ve seen the house… let’s get home so we can both stop worryin’ about that baby of ours so much.”

//

When you walked into your home, you could hear Maeve crying.

At first you were worried, but you could hear Bobby singing softly to her and when you finally saw her, you saw her grandfather bouncing her gently to calm her. You knew he had it under control even though it hurt to see her crying like that. But Niall didn’t feel the same. He rushed forward as soon as he could, a deep frown on his face as he grabbed Maeve from his father’s arms.

“What’s wrong my little darlin’?” He cooed, bouncing her in his arms as Bobby smiled at his son softly, glancing over at you. “I’m sorry we were gone for so long, we didn’t mean to leave you out on such an important day.”

“How was yer anniversary? Did ya enjoy yourselves?” Bobby asked as Niall continued to try and soothe Maeve, your heart aching as she wailed into his shoulder.

“It was amazing,” You smiled. “Thank you so much for watching her for us, Bobby. You were all right saying a day away would be good for me.”

“It never hurts to have a little break from being a parent,” He chuckled as you gave him a quick hug. “I’m always here to babysit when ya need me. Ya deserve to spend some time away from the little one, some time to be yerself again and not just Mum.”

“Well we won’ be needin’ ya for quite sometime Da’, that was our last break for a while,” Niall brushed his hand over the back of Maeve’s head, frowning. “Maeve clearly didn’t like it.”

“She was fine the whole time, Niall,” His dad said sternly. “She’s just woke up and she’s hungry.”

“Aww, little one,” You cooed, walking over to her to kiss her forehead. “Let’s get some dinner in you, yeah? We can cuddle up on the sofa after and watch some Peppa Pig.”

“I can feed her,” Niall said, turning slightly.

“You don’t want to give her up, do you?” You smirked, trying to contain your amusement. “Alright, you go ahead and take this one then.”

“Don’t tease me love,” He grumbled softly.

“Like you teased me earlier?” You hummed, quirking an eyebrow up.

“Alright, so I owe ya an apology,” Niall mumbled, leaning in to kiss you quickly, mumbling against your lips quickly. “I’ll make it up to ya later, how about that?”

“Deal, Horan.”

Yeah, it was hard to leave your little one at home for that long.

Spending half of a day without her made you worry and it made you stressed, but it also made coming home much sweeter than it had ever been before.

[poipoi1912]

Looking In

Fandoms: Lucifer, Law & Order: SVU (crossover)

Characters: Lucifer Morningstar, Sonny Carisi.

Pairings: Deckerstar, Barisi.

Summary: In which Lucifer Morningstar meets another leggy blond detective, and parallels are inevitably drawn. Except Sonny ends up being more like Dr. Linda.

(4K. Angst and humor and happy endings. Written by request, though it's quite different than the playful prompt might suggest. It does start off as a seduction, but it ends as a conversation between friends. It would help to be familiar with both shows, but it's not absolutely vital. You can click the links above for visual references.)

~ ~ ~

Lucifer meets Sonny at Lux.

He’s making the rounds, trying to be a gracious host, and he’s scanning the club to find the evening’s entertainment, when he notices a fresh-faced and well-dressed man he’s never seen before.

The man, Sonny, as Lucifer later learns, he’s drinking alone on the edge of the bar. Men and women keep approaching him, gorgeous men and women, most of whom Lucifer’s already had the pleasure of bedding, but they’re all turned away with a polite smile.

Lucifer smirks.

This might be a fun challenge.

Not that it’ll be particularly challenging. There aren’t many people who can resist him.

Just the one.

Lucifer asks Manbun to prepare two of whatever Sonny’s having, and then he makes his way to the other side of the bar, smiling as he sets down the drinks and introduces himself.

His smile appears to have little effect.

Sonny smiles back, but it’s another polite smile, just like the ones he’s been using all night to get rid of unwanted suitors, and Lucifer is baffled.

The devil usually has impeccable gaydar, but he still has to allow for the possibility Sonny could be straight.

In an attempt to determine that with absolute certainty, Lucifer starts a casual conversation. He decides to go with fashion, since Sonny’s outfit is clearly tailor-made. Lucifer always appreciates a perfectly fitted suit, not to mention a nice vest, and he says as much, and it doesn’t take long for Sonny to warm up to him and start talking.

Sonny mentions ‘Caprizio,’ who’s some sort of tailor on Staten Island somewhere, and Lucifer tries to suppress a grimace. The devil does not venture out to the East Coast, and if he did, he sure as hell wouldn’t visit Staten Island. He’s been to hell once already.

Still, Lucifer smiles and says he can offer some recommendations, he can suggest some local tailors, here on the West Coast, if Sonny’s in the market for another outfit.

Turns out, he’s not.

Sonny’s only in L.A. for a week, apparently. On vacation. Visiting old college friends. This is his last night.

Lucifer thinks that sounds promising.

That ticking clock, that internal countdown, that fear the fun is about to end, it’s fueled several of his sexual escapades.

That’s why Lucifer always tries to get Lux in all the Los Angeles travel guides.

Tourists are fun.

Sonny looks fun.

Lucifer smiles, as suggestively as humanly possible and then some, but Sonny’s smile remains polite.

Friendly.

Straight, then.

Lucifer laments the waste of ten minutes, ten minutes he could have spent with one of the Brittanys, but he decides to make one final attempt, before he throws in the towel.

Lucifer takes a step closer, and he invites Sonny to feel the vest he’s wearing. To feel the expensive material, the delicate stitching, the intricate craftsmanship.

Sonny winces, for some reason, as soon as his eyes fall on Lucifer’s pocket square. He looks sad, all of a sudden, and Lucifer is about to step away, because he has no time for ‘sad,’ when Sonny’s hand reaches out to touch.

Hesitantly.

Lucifer smirks.

And then he stops smirking, and then he gets tired of waiting for Sonny’s hand to stop moving in slow motion, so he makes things easier by taking another step, even closer. Sonny’s hand makes contact with his chest, abruptly, fingers landing on Lucifer’s nipple.

By ‘accident.’

Lucifer doesn’t let that drop, of course.

He doesn’t let anything drop. Lucifer squeezes in as many puns as he can, as much innuendo, casually mentioning his manly whatnots, and the fact his berries are ripe and ready to be harvested, while Sonny starts rubbing at his abs.

In a decidedly non-straight manner.

Not a waste of time, after all.

Lucifer preens as Sonny keeps laughing here and there, looking more and more comfortable with each pun.

It’s endearing, how silly pick-up lines seem to make Sonny feel at ease. Lucifer isn’t used to that. Most of the time, he doesn’t even need to use pick-up lines. And when he does, he’s used to getting scoffs and eyerolls.

Every time.

Every time he offers to show Chloe… to show someone ‘the original Stairway to Heaven’. Which is a perfectly decent line, if you ask Lucifer.

Just to prove a point, Lucifer uses that same line on Sonny.

Sonny doesn’t roll his eyes.

Sonny smiles, instead, as he looks up at Lucifer with his head tilted back and his lips slightly parted.

It’s clear he’s not used to being the short one. Sonny is a tall man, but Lucifer has at least a couple of inches on him, and that has to be new. It’s fun to watch, as Sonny tries to lean in, to lean upwards, as though he can make himself taller just by craning his neck.

Lucifer leans in, too. To get a closer look at those full, pink lips, and get some ideas for later.

Sonny notices the blatant staring, but he doesn’t move away. He just moves his hand lower, and starts mindlessly caressing the flapping ends of Lucifer’s jacket.

“In case you’re wondering, the devil does, indeed, wear Prada,” Lucifer says, and Sonny snorts.

“Right. The devil. So what’s your real name, ‘Lucifer’?”

Sonny has a pleasantly familiar look on his face.

An inquisitive look.

Like he’s trying to suss Lucifer out, like he’s not buying this ‘devil’ business at all, and he’s only playing along to get to the truth.

Lucifer tries not to let that ruin the mood.

“I don’t lie, Sonny. My name is Lucifer Morningstar.”

Sonny hums.

“I wanted to become a priest, when I was a kid.”

Lucifer’s mood takes a nosedive.

This was a bad idea from the start. Thinking about Frank is the last thing he needs right now, and he’s three seconds away from ditching this ‘Sonny’ guy and finding someone else who won’t make him think of pain.

Until he sees Sonny’s expression.

He sees a challenge.

A smirk.

He realizes that Sonny is trying to get a rise out of him. Gage his reaction.

This is a test.

Lucifer is almost impressed, and he knows exactly how to respond.

“It’s too bad you changed your mind. I’ve always wanted to bed a man of the cloth.”

Sonny chokes on his drink, and some liquid spills out of his lips, shiny and wet, and Lucifer’s mood comes back with a vengeance.

By the time Sonny wipes at his mouth with long fingers, Lucifer has a laundry list of ideas.

For later.

Or sooner.

Lucifer decides to cut to the chase and ask Sonny what he truly desires.

“Barba.”

That’s all Sonny says, eyes wide, like he wasn’t expecting to say it.

Lucifer is intrigued by the one-word answer, so he asks for details.

“Who is this Barba you talk of?”

Sonny hesitates for a second, but Lucifer leans in, even closer, and he raises an eyebrow, and he mutters an encouraging, “Come on, Sonny, you can tell me,” and that’s all it takes.

“He’s a guy I work with. He’s an Assistant District Attorney, in Manhattan. I’m a detective.”

Lucifer is the one who winces this time, though he hopes he looks a little less sad than Sonny did, earlier.

Of all the people at Lux, of all the models and the actors and the athletes, Lucifer picked a leggy blond detective who wants to know who he really is.  

Figures.

Still, he wants to hear more about Sonny’s desires.

“Alright. I didn’t ask you for his resume, but alright. You work with him, and you want to have him. Brilliant. How, exactly, do you picture that? What do you desire? Be very specific.”

Sonny gapes, as if he’s trying to decide what to talk about first, which fantasy to describe, hopefully in explicit detail, so that Lucifer can recreate it lat-

“I want him to love me back.”

Bloody hell.

Sonny blinks, several times, like he’s trying to understand why he’s pouring his heart out to an extraordinarily handsome stranger, and Lucifer takes a deep breath.

This is not what he signed up for.

Lucifer should be looking for another partner already, because he doesn’t do lovelorn fools, and yet here he is.

There’s something about this Sonny. Lucifer wants to hear more, so he nods to urge Sonny along.

“I, uh. I’ve always had feelings for him. Since we first met. And that was the problem. I came on too strong, and I think I blew it. I kept chasin’ after him like a puppy. Makin’ dumb jokes, to get him to laugh. Tryin’ to act like we had a lot in common, when we really didn’t. Tryin’ to work cases with him, just to get him alone. Tryin’ to get him to like me. Just… tryin’ too hard. All the time.”

Oh.

That sounds disturbingly familiar.

Lucifer must know the rest of this story.

“And? Does he not like you now?”

Sonny shakes his head.

“He… Well, things are better now. Now that I reined myself in. Now that he knows me a little better. We’re friendly, now. Friends, even. So… I guess he likes me.

“Sometimes he’ll say something, or he’ll look at me, and I’ll think maybe there’s still hope. But, most of the time, I think he’s always gonna think of me as that annoying guy who wouldn’t shut up.”

Lucifer is beginning to realize the magnitude of his mistake.

Introspection is not his friend. That’s why he has Dr. Linda, to look inside him for him. Lucifer doesn’t particularly want to see what’s there.

But his casual hook-ups, they’re supposed to be fun. Lucifer is not supposed to identify with them. He’s not supposed to question his own actions. His life, so far. That’s never a good idea. It always leads t-

“So there you have it. Barba’s a guy who’s way out of my league. It’s probably never gonna happen, between us. And I guess I’m okay with that. What would he even want with me? I’m not… He’s different. Special, you know?”

Lucifer does know, unfortunately.

“This Barba of yours, is he kind? And generous? And selfless? Is he fundamentally good, and you feel you couldn’t possibly measure up? You feel you’re not worth it?”

Sonny lets out a surprised laugh.

“Uh, no. He’s actually kind of an asshole. Huge ego.”

Lucifer is confused.

Sonny seems perfectly nice, and it’s clear he has excellent taste, because he keeps licking his lips and staring, eyes drawn to Lucifer’s chest, to the undone buttons, like he wants to undo the rest of them, too.

Lucifer doesn’t understand why Sonny would ever waste his time with someone like this Barb-

“But yeah. I definitely don’t measure up. Barba’s too smart, he’s too classy, too passionate, too strong, and… He is good. I like to think I’m good, too, but it’s not the same. I’m just a guy from Staten Island. He can do better.”

This, this sounds painfully familiar.

Excruciatingly.

Chloe can do better, too. She may pretend that Lucifer isn’t beneath her, to spare his feelings, but Lucifer knows the truth. Lucifer knows she can do better, and she deserves better, she deserves someone better, and that’s not who he is.

He’s not better, or even good.

He’s not bad. He’s not worse.

Lucifer is a monster, and Chloe doesn’t know.

Maybe she’ll never know.

Sonny doesn’t know either, but that weighs considerably lighter on Lucifer’s conscience.

This is about fun. Lucifer is about to give Sonny the best night of his life, and they’ll never see each other again, and it will mean nothing.

What Lucifer has with Chloe, it holds meaning.

It’s not about fun.

Chloe isn’t about fun.

Chloe is about love.

And love isn’t fun, at least not in Lucifer’s experience, not that he’s ever experienced it before, not that he’s ever admitted that before, and how’s that for introspection?

Love.

Dr. Linda will have her work cut out for her, in their next session, and she’ll have a big fat ‘I told you so’ for Lucifer, and it’ll all be Sonny’s fault.

Lucifer thinks Sonny should be punished, for even uttering the word love in his presence so casually.

Lucifer has a paddle that should do the trick.

He’ll ask Sonny, of course, when they get upstairs. Lucifer is a very considerate lover, and he can’t quite decide if Sonny would rather the paddle or the riding crop.

The very thought of that perks Lucifer right up, so he puts an arm around Sonny’s neck, trying to sidle closer. He’s hoping to use his other hand to cop a feel of Sonny’s rear end, just to see what he’ll be working with later.

Sonny stays still. He doesn’t immediately cozy up to Lucifer, he doesn’t seem to relish in Lucifer’s embrace, not like most people do.

Sonny isn’t even looking up at Lucifer anymore, he no longer seems entranced by Lucifer’s chest hair, he no longer seems interested in fondling Lucifer’s suit.

He’s looking down, into his drink. He’s obviously dwelling on this Barba, on the missed opportunities, perhaps, on the unfulfilled potential.

On what is lost.

Lucifer thinks Sonny is used to another type of punishment, one which doesn’t involve the use of pleasurable implements.

Sonny is used to punishing himself.

Alright.

That’s it.

This will be the first and last time Lucifer ever feels anything for one of his gentlemen callers. This empathy, this hashtag relatable sensation, this sense of understanding, it can’t be good for him.

It’s nauseating.

Love feels like mild nausea.

Lucifer doesn’t know if that’s normal. Maybe he can ask Sonny, or Dr. Linda.

Not having Chloe, not deserving Chloe, the knowledge of it is nauseating, and what’s even more nauseating is that Lucifer is talking to a very attractive young man and all he can seem to do is pine after his detective.

“Listen, detectiv… Sonny, I don’t know much about this Barba person, but I do know that he’d be lucky to have you. If you’re good enough for the devil, darling, I assure you you’re good enough for him. Tell me this. I’m much better looking than he is. Right?”

Sonny loses that morose expression, finally, and he smirks a cocky smirk that makes him look ten times sexier. Lucifer remembers why he picked Sonny in the first place, out of everyone else in this club.

“Well… Yeah. You are. Truth be told, you’re better lookin’ than most people.”

Lucifer smirks back.

“Right. Of course I am. Thank you. And I’ll have you know that I have very high standards. Or… well, medium-high standards. But you definitely fit the bill. You should be proud.”

Sonny laughs, and his shoulders shake under Lucifer’s arm, and it feels wrong, somehow. Not like canoodling with a lover. More like comforting an old mate.

Lucifer soldiers on.

“Now, what do you say? I promise you, after a night with me, you won’t even remember this Barba.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Lucifer knows that.

Lucifer knows it, because he could spend a million nights with others, he has spent months and months with others, every night, and every morning, and some afternoons, too, but he’s never forgotten Chloe. He could never forget her.

He doesn’t want to.

Love.

Sonny isn’t laughing anymore.

In fact, Lucifer is surprised to find him standing about a foot away. He somehow managed to slither out of Lucifer’s arms, probably while Lucifer was too busy dwelling on Chl-

“Your person. Your… guy?”

Lucifer smiles. It appears he is more transparent than he thought.

“It’s a lady, I’m afraid.”

Sonny smiles.

“Okay. So, your girl, the girl who’s selfless, and kind, and too good for you, you ever tell her how you feel?”

Bloody hell.

If Lucifer wanted therapy, he’d talk to his actual therapist. Not an eerily insightful stranger. Dr. Linda would never…

Actually, she’d probably ask him this exact same question. Maybe with a little less compassion. With a little more honesty, the kind that’s earned with friendship. Dr. Linda would ask him why he keeps chickening out, time and time again, why h-

“Did you ever ask her? Sure, she’s gotta be pretty special, if she’s got a guy like you second-guessin’ himself, but forget about what you think. Maybe she thinks you’re good enough. Maybe she has, like, medium-low standards. You never know.”

Lucifer appreciates both the joke and the pragmatism.

Chloe would need to have medium-low standards to even consider him, if not flat-out low, and that’s the problem. She deserves better.

“I have, actually. I asked her on a date. And I never bothered to show up.”

Sonny pauses for several moments, and Lucifer braces himself for another Dr. Linda-esque bit of wisdom, becaus-

“Because you want her to love you back.”

Lucifer was expecting something more overtly scathing, about him being a coward, perhaps, but this still scathes just fine.

“I suppose.”

That’s an understatement.

There’s nothing Lucifer wants more.

He doesn’t want a simple date. A dinner and a shag. Lucifer wants Chloe to love him back, except he’d have to confess his own feelings first, his own love, and that’s about number five on the list of things he really needs to confess, and what’s the point?

She doesn’t know.

She doesn’t believe him.

Lucifer sighs.

This night is going a lot worse than he ever anticipated, but maybe he can still get something out of it.

Some advice.

“Have you ever told your ‘person,’ Sonny? You’re easy on the eyes, and easy to talk to, and you wear the hell out of those trousers, pun intended. What have you got to lose?”

A lot, going by Sonny’s smile.

“I can’t afford to tell him. Not now. He’s, uh… He’s been receiving death threats, and I’m supposed to protect him. I can’t risk that. I can’t have him requesting another officer for his protective detail. I gotta be there, to make sure he’s safe.”

Right.

Lucifer knows that feeling, and the threats definitely complicate things, except…

“So why are you in Los Angeles? Have you left him behind? Unprotected?”

Sonny smiles again, and it still looks like he’s being punished.

“No. I’d never... Barba’s on vacation too. St. Barths. He wanted to ‘get away from it all’. That’s what he said. He’s with some friends of his from Harvard, the types who own yachts and rent out entire resorts, you know? One of ‘em is a New York Senator, so Barba has protection from the Secret Service while he’s there.”

Ooh.

Fancy.

Lucifer thinks he would like to meet this Barba.

“Well, well, well. He sounds like a man who knows how to enjoy himself. All the more reason you should ask him. I’m sure he wouldn’t kick you out of bed.”

Sonny laughs this time.

“You say that ‘cause you don’t know him. He would totally kick me out of bed. Literally.”

Barba is feisty, too, it seems. Sonny’s attitude makes more sense now.

Lucifer knows exactly what it’s like to want someone who’s f-

Sonny’s phone beeps, and he scrambles to get it out of his pocket.

Suspiciously.

“What’s the rush, Sonny? Could this be your Barba, calling?”

Sonny doesn’t seem to think so.

“Nah. It’s just the Special Agent in Charge. I asked her to send me daily updates on Barba’s status.”

Lucifer pouts.

“Aw. How thoughtful. Updates, as in surreptitiously taken pictures of Barba in a bathing suit? Or…”

Sonny rolls his eyes, and that feels pleasantly familiar, too.

“Or. Let me just check the text, and I’ll… Uh.”

Sonny is frowning.

Intensely.

“What’s wrong, Sonny? Is your Barba alright?”

Sonny is gaping.

“Yeah. He, uh. He texted me.”

Lucifer feels something resembling excitement, which is strange, considering none of this involves him personally.

“Well? What did he say?”

Sonny is still gaping, so Lucifer grabs the phone out of his hand.

‘Did you seriously ask a Secret Service Agent to give you updates on how my vacation is going, Carisi?

‘You could have asked me. It’s boring. And sandy. I miss Manhattan. I miss the Met. I miss my office. I may even miss you, driving me home every night.

‘That’s how boring it is, here. I’ll be back in two days. I’ll expect a full report on your L.A. misadventures.’

Lucifer smiles.

Barba sounds fun.

And feisty, as predicted.

Sonny still looks flabbergasted.

“I didn’t tell him I’d be in L.A.”

Lucifer watches all the expressions rapidly changing on Sonny’s face, and he thinks maybe love can be fun, too, sometimes.

“Well, obviously he asked after you. He wanted to know what you’d be doing, while he was gone. There’s hope for you yet, detect… Sonny.”

Sonny looks like he might actually believe that.

Like he’ll ask.

“But! Just on the off-chance your Barba is an idiot, here, take a selfie with me. Come closer. If he plays hard to get, you can produce pictorial evidence of your ‘misadventures.’ You can tell him you hooked up with the owner of the hottest club in Los Angeles. See how he likes it.”

Sonny snorts, but he does get his phone back from Lucifer.

Sonny does move closer, eagerly, fitting under Lucifer’s arm just right. He presses his face against Lucifer’s, cheek soft against Lucifer’s stubble, and Lucifer almost laments the fact this will be the most physical contact they’ll have tonight.

Almost.

Sonny snaps a picture, and Lucifer checks it to make sure he looks amazing, which he always does, but it doesn’t hurt to be diligent.

They look nice together, actually.

Still, Lucifer hopes Sonny won’t have to use the picture. He hopes Barba won’t be an idiot. Lucifer hopes Sonny can stop punishing himself, and take the leap, and then maybe Lucifer can try, too, mayb-

“Want me to send you the pic? So you can show it to your girl? Brag about how you had a good time with one of New York’s finest?”

Lucifer chuckles.

“No. That wouldn’t exactly help my case.”

Sonny grins.

“Ask her, Lucifer. Maybe it’ll work out. Talk to her. I mean, why would she say no? For bein’ the devil, and all, you’re a pretty nice guy.”

Lucifer is nothing of the sort.

Lucifer is the devil.

The devil isn’t nic-

“The devil is an angel. You know that, right? A fallen angel, sure, but same difference. Angels who fall, they can also rise.”

Lucifer has the sudden urge to ask if Sonny has any sisters. If, perhaps, one of them happens to be a blonde therapist by the name of Dr. Linda Martin, currently practicing in the greater Los Angeles area.

Sonny is smiling again, and it’s that same polite smile from before, except a little warmer, and Lucifer suspects he somehow managed to get friendzoned.

Or maybe he just made a friend.

It’s hard to tell the difference.

“My lady, Chloe. She’s a police detective. Like you. I help her. We work together, like you and your Barba. We solve crimes.”

Sonny narrows his eyes.

“The devil solves crimes in Los Angeles?”

Lucifer shrugs.

“As good a place as any.”

Sonny can’t seem to argue with that.

“You should try New York City, sometime.”

Lucifer thinks that might be a good idea, after all.

Maybe he could visit the East Coast, and meet this Barba.

Maybe he could ask what Barba truly desires, as a favor to Sonny. Lucifer has a feeling Sonny would find that answer very helpful. Not to mention, Sonny would owe him, which can never hurt. What if Chloe ever wants a contact with the NYPD? Some help, for a case? Lucifer could provide that for h-

“Ask her.”

Lucifer hums.

He can’t ask Chloe about her desires.

He doesn’t affect her.

Then again, maybe that’s why he should ask her.

Maybe be can’t compel her to tell the truth, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be honest, anyway.

Out of her own free will.

Maybe Lucifer will ask Chloe.

Maybe he’ll tell her the truth, first.

Maybe he’ll tell her he’s the devil, he’s a monster, he fell, but she makes him feel like he can rise again.

Then, he’ll ask her.

Now, as the night winds down, there’s something Lucifer wants to ask Sonny.

“Just for the record, would you say you’d rather be spanked with a paddle, or would you prefer a riding crop?”