#pitiful little boy sitting all alone at his birthday party table after everyone has left......

[carcarrot]

did not even plan this but realizing i happened to watch the harry's birthday episode of season 2 on harrys actual birthday :)

[yespleasetommyshelby]

Should've just asked - Part 2 - Oscar Diaz

One week, seven days, 168 hours, 10080 minutes, 604800 seconds, since he fucked everything up with y/n. Threw it all away because his own insecurities got the better off him, all because he didn't just ask.

He hadn't seen sad eyes since that day either, leaving him alone to stew in his own bubble of self pity. He hadn't left his home since that day, instead opting to send Cesar to the store when something was needed or delegating his Santo's jobs to other members. The bags that y/n and Sad eyes had left behind in the mall sitting against the wall opposite him, mocking him with their bright colours and smiling logos, he'd looked through them as soon as he'd gotten home, each one filled with balloons, banners, anything you would need to through a birthday, even a badge that read 'birthday king' in big bold letters.

Today was his birthday, his 26th, a day where he should've been out in the yard celebrating with one of his famous Santo's parties with the love of his life by his side but instead he was sat in an empty house, bar his younger brother, wallowing in a pit of self pity.

"You still sulking?" Cesar asked as he watched his brother stare at the blank space by his feet, interrupting his pity party.

"Fuck off." He muttered, reaching for the half smoked joint that had been abandoned in the ashtray an hour ago.

"It's been a week Oscar, you can't sit around moping all the time, yeah you fucked up, I get it, but sitting here isn't helping anything." Cesar sighed, this past week he'd seen a side of his older brother that he couldn't remember seeing before, sad and bitchy Spooky was not a pretty sight.

"You don't get shit." Oscar sighed as he lit his joint, breathing in the smoke before exhaling slowly. "I fucked up the best thing to ever happen to me, to us, I lost mi amor Cesar." He mumbled, his eyes filling with tears that he rapidly tried to blink back.

"I know, I know I've never had anything like what you and y/n have, how about we go to the mall? I need some new trainers for school." Cesar asked, watching Oscars face carefully.

"Can't you take your little groupie with you?" Oscar muttered, stubbing out his joint in the ashtray before leaning back and covering his eyes with his arm.

"Please Oscar, it'll help get your mind of shit." Cesar tried again, desperate to get Oscar out of the house and the hole he was currently wallowing in.

"Fine." He sighed, pulling himself up and heading towards the door, missing Cesar pull out his phone and send a quick text.

He's out.

-------

Just down the street y/n grinned as her phone dinged, the text she'd been waiting for finally coming through.

"Hey Sad eyes!" She called into the spare room where he had been staying for the last week, opting to stay and comfort the upset girl rather than spending nights in his own bed.

"What's up?" He asked as he opened the door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Were you seriously sleeping at 2 in the afternoon?" She asked with an amused smile. "Anyway, Cesar's managed to get Oscar out the house so I'm heading over there now, you coming?" She asked with a smile, excited yet nervous at the thought of seeing Oscar again.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, just give me two minutes." The man grumbled before going back into the room.

Yes, y/n was still pissed about how Oscar had acted a week ago, calling her out for being a cheat in the middle of the mall after doing nothing more than planning his birthday. But at the same time the last week had been hell, she'd received multiple texts and missed calls from Oscar, all apologising for that day, for making a fool out of all three of them. No matter how badly he had embarrassed her that day he was still the only thing in her heart, the love of her life and she was determined not to throw it all away, they had fixed every other problem that had arose in their relationship and they was going to fix this too. Which is why her and Sad eyes were currently on their way to the Diaz household, ready to throw him the most surprising surprise party there ever was.

"Alright, you start to put the food out and I'll get started with the decorations." Y/n smiled as she went over to the bags sat against the wall, the same ones that her and Sad eyes had gotten at the mall. "I'm surprised he didn't throw this out." She mused, digging through the bags to find the balloons.

"I've told you, the guys borderline obsessed with you." Sad eyes laughed from the kitchen.

An hour later and everything was set up, banners covered the walls, balloons floated through the house and yard alike while the food and drinks tables looked immaculate, thanks to Ruby's help.

Everything was in full swing, music blasting, drinks in people's hands as she received yet another text that she was waiting for.

2 minutes out.

"Alright! Everyone be quiet, he's just coming!" Y/n yelled, the music being cut and the loud laughter turning to hushed murmurs as her nerves grew knowing Oscar was just about to walk through the doors.

The loud slamming of the front door caught everyone's attention as they stood anxiously waiting for the Santos leader, the faint 'what the fuck is this?' Making her chuckle only being able to imagine how confused Oscar must have looked right then.

"Surprise!" Everyone cheered as Oscar and Cesar appeared at the back door, Cesar sporting a grin as Oscars wide eyes roamed the crowd before landing on y/n.

"You did this?" He asked quietly, not yet making a move as his mind tried to decide whether this was real, if she really was stood right in front of him.

"Well." She smiled bashfully. "I had some help." She shrugged as Sad Eyes came from round the corner with two coronas in his hands.

"Happy birthday Spooky." He smiled, holding a bottle out for Oscar to take, smiling and clinking their bottles together once Oscar took one.

"Aye, listen man, I'm, uh, I'm sorry about hitting you, the other day." Oscar sighed, feeling weird having to apologise for punching someone who was basically his brother.

"No worries Spook." Sad eyes chuckled patting his brother on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl." He smirked, nodding towards y/n who was stood a few feet away talking to Cesar and Jamal.

"Hey, uh, can we talk?" Oscar asked walking up to her and rubbing the back of his neck from the nerves.

"Yeah, sure." She smiled, feeling her heart beating through her chest as she looked up into his eyes.

They were both stood staring at each other before Cesar clearing his throat pulled them out of whatever trance they were in.

"Hey Jamal how about we go find Ruby?" Cesar asked, raising his eyebrows at Jamal who just didn't seem to get the hint.

"What? Why? We see him all the time." The young boy shrugged, oblivious to the scowls he was receiving from the Diaz brothers and the amused look from y/n.

"Beat it." Oscar deadpanned, smirking as Jamal quickly turned and walked away leaving Cesar to follow with a chuckle.

"Was there any need for that?" Y/n giggled as she turned back to Oscar, looking up at him with an amused glint in her eye.

"Kid doesn't know when to take a hint." Oscar shrugged, not seeing the issue in how he spoke to Jamal in the slightest.

"Yeah well, he is Jamal." Y/n shrugged with a laugh. "Anyway, what was it you wanted to say?" She asked remembering why the Santo had come to her in the first place.

"I uh, I just wanted to say I'm sorry, ya know, for blowing up on you the other day, I know how stupid I was being and I called you out for bullshit you didn't even do." Oscar sighed, his hand that wasn't holding his beer clenching and unclenching at his side as he tried to find the right words. "Just uh, just the thought that you were out with some other cabrón made me see red, I didn't even think to ask, I just wanted to punch whoever it was in the face." He spoke quietly, y/n only just hearing him over the music that had started up again.

"Oscar, you're right, it was stupid." She snorted making Oscars heart drop his eyes going straight to the floor, it was too late. "But." She started, making his eyes flick back up to her immediately. "But I love you Oscar Diaz, I love you so fucking much that this last week has been killing me. I don't know what to do when I'm not with you Oscar, and I don't ever want to have to do that again." She sighed, a lone tear a sliding down her cheek which he quickly reached up to wipe away.

"I love you too mi amor, I know I get jealous and over protective but that's only because I don't want any one taking you away from me, not now, not ever." He mumbled shaking his head slightly before putting his bottle down on the nearest table.

"I know, baby, I know." Y/n smiled, reaching up taking his face in her hands, thumbs rubbing along his jawline gently. "You know if the roles were reversed I would've done much more to any hyna I thought was coming for you." She giggled, already having thrown hands with one before.

"Trust me, I remember, that shit was hot." Oscar chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist as hers slid from his face to going around his neck, opting to rub the bottom of his neck rather than jaw line.

"Now what?" Y/n asked, her eyes flickering between his.

"What do you want?" Oscar asked quietly, not wanting to push her into anything that she didn't want.

"What do I want? I want you Oscar Diaz, I want you everyday for the rest of my life, jealousy and temper included." She laughed as he rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"Good." Oscar smirked down at her. "Because I ain't never letting you go." He whispered, pulling her towards him, leaning down and planting his lips on hers for the first time in a week.

"I love you Oscar." She mumbled happily, resting her head on his chest as his arms wrapped around her back.

"I love you too mi amor." He smiled, placing a kiss on her forehead and squeezing her tight.

"Also, watching you punch sad eyes in the face really turned me on." She mumbled with a laugh as she felt Oscar tense slightly.

"Is that right?" He chuckled, looking down at her. "Well it's been a week, we best take care of that." He laughed before pulling away and lifting her over his shoulder before heading into the house landing a swift smack to her backside.

"Woo! Spookys gunna get some!" Was heard as he carried her through to the bedroom, both of them laughing as he threw her onto the bed.

"You're so perfect mi Reina." Oscar whispered leaning over her as he stroked a few stray hairs out of her face.

"If anyone's perfect here it's you." Y/n smiled letting her eyes wonder his beautiful features. "Just promise me something." She mumbled after placing a quick peck to his lips.

"Anything." He answered immediately, ready to give anything and everything to make her happy.

"Next time, just ask." She giggled as he rolled his eyes.

"Putá." He mumbled as he leaned down for a slow kiss.

"But you love me anyway." She whispered.

"Always mi amor."

One week without seeing each other.

Seven days without so much as a smile.

168 hours without a kiss.

10080 minutes without an 'I love you'.

604800 seconds without each other.

One surprise party to fix it all.

[h4nabi-archived]

Pity Party

a/n: This was a request from @lexy586​. I’m sooo sorry its late and for accidentally deleting the ask. But from what i remember, the sender wanted a fic about the reader being in either the baku or deku squad and the start to forget about them and then their birthday shows up. I changed it a little but not much so i hope you like it :))

∾ Bakusquad x Reader (platonic), Izuku Midoriya x Reader (platonic)

∾ little angst, fluff

∾ warnings: none

∾ 1497 words

8:30 PM

That's the time you had told everyone to show up to your dorm for your birthday.

But instead, you were lying face down on your bed in an empty room.

No one had shown up.

You didn't know why it got like this. One day, you were hanging out with the "bakusquad" and the next, you were just a thing of the past: no texts, no get-togethers, nothing. You were left all alone.

This wasn't something you weren't used to, though. If anything, by this point, it shouldn't even be a surprise to you.

Friend group after friend group, you were always left behind. Sometimes they'd have the decency to tell you straight up that you just "didn't fit in." But most of the time, it was a gradual process. and this was no different.

You could tell that everyone slowly forgot about you. It all started about a month ago when everyone was talking about a new movie they had seen. This was new news to you. Usually, Kaminari or Sero would text the group chat about any popular new film they wanted to see. But not this time.

"Oh, sorry, Y/N. I just assumed you would be busy that day. Next time I'll ask, promise," Sero said with a genuine smile.

At the time, it didn't particularly bother you. Hero training and all had been keeping you busy lately, so the mixup was excusable.

But these "mixups" became more frequent. "schedule conflicts" also became common when you tried to invite anyone out. Whether it was studying for a test or a sudden case of the cold, everyone seemed to have something better to be doing than hanging out with you.

You started to feel isolated at lunch, as well. Eventually, you had to move to Midoryia's table because it was all getting to be too much. No one batted an eye when you left. No one texted you to see if you were okay—nothing but radio silence.

It hurt being alone again. It hurt worse, knowing that you actually thought this time would be different at one point. After you had transferred to UA your second year, you didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms. But to your surprise, you were.

Kirishima had been the first to reach out to you. He was friendly, going out of his way to even ask if you wanted to sit with him and his friends at lunch. That's when you met everyone else. You instantly clicked with everyone. It took some time for Bakugou to warm up to the new addition, but indeed everyone seemed to enjoy your company.

You were invited everywhere with them: study dates, sneaky late night outings, movie marathons, everything. It felt good having such a close friend group, and you truly felt like it could work out.

Looking back, you could tell that you didn't really belong. The five of them had an already established bond, and you just couldn't compete. You stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone else was so much cooler and stronger than you, advancing with their quirks and overall popularity, while you were always left in the dust.

Maybe you were naive, missing all the signs that screamed that you didn't belong. Or perhaps you did see them but decided to ignore them. Who knows.

Going to the messenger app on your phone, you immediately went to your shared group chat. You knew you would see a response from anyone, but still, a small part of you had hope. But that hope was crushed when you looked and saw nothing—just the dozen other messages you had sent with no response.

you looked at the time on your phone. 12:45 AM, the numbers seemed to mock you as you stared down at them. Your vision became blurry as you threw your phone down on the floor. Then a tear fell. Then another. and another. all until you were sobbing in your pillow.

You cried and cried until you couldn't anymore. You started to get a migraine from all the crying. You felt crazy. It was your birthday. You were supposed to be happy—another year of life. And yet here you were in your dark dorm room, with tears staining your face. You felt pitiful.

You closed your eyes, trying to force yourself to sleep. And just as you were about to, a text notification sounded.

You didn't want to look. You wanted just to sleep and get this day over with. But soon enough, you were reaching to grab your phone off the floor.

You unlocked your phone and looked at the text.

From: Deku

Hey!

From: Deku

Happy Birthday Y/N!!!

You wiped your eyes and smiled at the texts.

You and Midoriya had grown closer since you moved to his table. You guys were the closest friends, but it was nice having at least one person still by your side.

From: You

thanks Midoriya :)))

Just as you were about to lock your phone, the texting indicator popped up on your screen. You waited for a response when suddenly the indicator disappeared. It didn't show up again, so with a huff, you locked your phone and threw it back on the floor.

You were alone again. You weren't sad anymore, which was good, but you were left with a sinking feeling in your heart in return. You turned on your side and faced the wall. You tried to make yourself comfortable so you could fall back asleep, but nothing seemed to work. The sleepy feeling has been whisked away, and now you were left staring at your blank wall.

You sighed and got out of your bed. Quickly slipping on a random hoodie and your slippers, you quietly made your way out of your room. Maybe a late-night snack was what you needed.

As you arrived at your destination, something made you stop in your tracks.

At one of the many dining tables sat Midoriya. His back was facing you so you couldn't see his face, but his slouched posture made him look tired. It made sense seeing as it was currently 1 AM. Next to him was a small slice of cake. Just looking at the desert made your eyes sting. Quickly you focused back on the boy and made your way over to him.

“Hey,” you said as you sat in the seat beside him. Izuku, stunned by your sudden appearance, jumped and almost fell out of his chair. After making sure he was alright, a small giggle escaped your lips.

"H-hey Y/N. What are you doing here?" He looked like he had seen a ghost by how shocked he was. His hands quickly grabbed the cake and moved it in an attempt to hide it.

The whole scene was very suspicious. Raising an eyebrow, you looked from the cake up to the freckled boy. from where he sat, the moonlight shone on him almost entirely. You could see the deep red blush that fused his cheeks and the way his eyes looked everywhere but you. It was cute if you were being honest.

“I should be asking you the same question,” you moved to point at the cake, “What’s that?��

"This? Oh, um, nothing. Just late-night cravings."

“Cravings? Really?”

"Yes." He was obviously lying. It was painted right on his face. Sensing your disbelief, Midoriya looked down and pushed the treat in front of you. He looked down at his lap and spilled the beans. "Actually, it's for you. You know, for your birthday."

You looked at the slice. It was a plain vanilla cake with white frosting. Your age in pretty, pink frosting was the only decoration. Even in its simplicity, the cake looked delicious. Your eyes started to sting, and before you knew it, you were crying again.

Midoriya immediately looked up when he heard you sniffle. What he didn't expect to see was the wide grin on your face. You reached over and pulled the boy into a tight hug, knocking the wind out of his lungs in the process. His arms made their way around you and gave you a small part in your back.

pulling away, you turned and looked at the cake again. "Thank you, Midoriya. I'm really thankful."

"It's the least I can do. We are friends, after all."

You guys were friends. Midoriya had always been nice to you. Checking on you when you first moved to his table suddenly, helping you with homework you’d usually ask bakugou to help you with, making you feel included in his group, and the list goes on and on. You weren’t alone. You had friends who cared.

Midoriya pulled out two plastic forks and handed it on to you. After you two said your thanks, you dig into the cake.

It might not have been what you initially planned, but you wouldn't have chosen to spend your birthday any other way than this.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

that makes four.

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PART 4

Tristan had slapped his menu shut before you could even sit down. He’d been begging you to try a new place in Encino with him, you figured it was a good excuse to get Zoey out of the house and to let Maeve and CeCe duke it out in Shelli and Irv’s backyard instead of yours.

It was all work talk at first, he offered an update on a meeting you missed to drop off Maeve at a friend’s and Zoey sucked down a glass of wine promising to pump and dump before the night ended.

But now your plates were in front of you and you twirled spaghetti around your fork when she asked: “How’s your pool boy?” You stared up at her, unimpressed.

“He’s not my pool boy, and he’s fine.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows across the table. “Would you let Harry Styles be your pool boy?”

“Can we not talk about him like this, please?”

“Oh come on,” Tristan pulled a face. “If you’re not going to sleep with him at least let us fantasize.”

You must have twitched, a quick glance in Zoey’s direction or a quiver of your lip. Zoey leaned in and her voice was serious. “What was that?”

“What? Nothing.”

“What do you mean what was that?” Tristan asked.

“She made a weird face when you said that.”

“No I didn’t,” you defended. “I just don’t like talking about him in public, especially like this.”

“Bullshit,” Zoey laughed, leaned back in her chair. “What are you not telling us? Did you see him shirtless again?”

You let out a breath, wiped at your mouth and wondered if telling them would be the biggest mistake of your life. You couldn’t even get the words out before Zoey leaned in.

“You had sex with him?!” her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Tristan’s fork clanked against his plate when his jaw dropped open.

You’d made it a whole week, almost. You pushed the thoughts down and brushed them under the metaphorical work rug. The body wash prototypes were in, you were booking models to do a photoshoot, video shoot, everything was getting lined up for the rollout in another few weeks. You didn’t have time to tell them about something silly and stupid and maybe a part of you didn’t want to fill them in because you were afraid they’d burst your bubble. It’ll never work out, what happens when his house is ready, he has a tour to go on.

“Be quiet,” you looked around and worried if anyone had overheard Tristan’s not-so-subtle name drop. “It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna be a regular thing.”

Tristan pulled his head back, offended by your words. “You had sex with him and you’re not going to make that a regular thing? Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” you made a face at Tristan. “I have seen him.”

“You are going to hit and quit Harry Styles?” Zoey leaned in and said his name much more quietly now.

“Well,” you dropped their gaze for a second, reluctant to be honest with them in fear of their reaction. “It’s happened once, and then we kissed once but CeCe came down, but she didn’t see anything. I’m just too old to be hooking up with a twenty-four year old.”

“Wait, okay, slow down. When did this happen?” Zoey asked.

“After my birthday dinner,” you shrugged. “We came home, had wine, the girls were out.”

“And when did you make out with him aside from that night?”

“The next night. And we didn’t make out, it was barely even open-mouthed.”

“Ew,” Tristan grimaced.

Zoey snapped to get your attention. “So twenty-four hours after you had sex, you kissed him?”

You made a face at her, unsure where she was going with it. You hadn’t been clocking or documenting your sexual encounters. “I don’t know, probably.”

“This is straight out of a trashy romance book written for middle aged women,” Tristan leaned back in his seat and took a pull from his glass of rosé. “I mean that in, like, a nice way.”

“Okay,” Zoey leaned forward. “So, nothing has happened since a week ago, then?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Just those times. And I don’t think anything should happen again.”

They both groaned at the same time, Zoey’s shoulders sunk and she rolled her eyes. “You deserve to have sex with a hot guy.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Even if he’s younger than you.”

“I don’t want to traumatize my children.”

“Well you don’t have to have sex in front of them,” Tristan made a goofy face and you waved him off.

Zoey snorted out a laugh but you ignored their immaturity.

“I mean that having Harry here is already probably confusing for them, right? Their dad leaves, their grandpa dies, now we have some stranger in our house and he’s playing with them in the backyard and--”

“Being more of a dad to them than Luke ever was?”

Zoey’s words brought a sigh out from between your lips. “Exactly.”

“Having a positive male role model is good for them,” Tristan said.

“Sure,” you nodded. “But what about when Harry moves out? He’ll just be another man that will leave them. They’ll be super fucked up.”

Tristan reached forward and took your hand in his. “Hey--it’s more about the fact that they have you and they have other people who love them. Who cares if their idea of a family isn’t the stereotypic, heterosexual norm?”

“I know,” you relented. “I just don’t want them to be poorly adjusted.”

“Okay, that sounds like something an obnoxious prep school guidance counselor would say to you,” Zoey eyed you with skepticism.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was Maeve’s teacher.”

“Okay, fuck that teacher!” Tristan nodded. “Your kids are adjusting, and that’s because of how good of a mom you are to them. And mommy deserves a pool boy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if his words were worthy of an eye-roll. Zoey tried not to let wine drip from her nose after a snort escaped between sips.

“Not my pool boy!” You giggled.

“Which is good,” Tristan nodded, his tone completely serious. “That would be so cliché even Nora Roberts wouldn’t write it.”

**

Slumber parties always made you anxious. They were one of those things that made you question how on earth people trusted you to watch a group of children when sometimes, you still felt like one yourself.

Maeve’s 11th birthday party was no exception. Five other girls danced around your living room and CeCe sat at the counter while you iced cupcakes. Her little face was scrunched into a pout so intensely that it almost made you giggle.

“You alright?” You asked her, dish towel over your shoulder when she let out another sigh.

“Just wish I could play with them,” she held her palms towards the sky in exasperation, reaching for a container of sprinkles when you let out a laugh.

“You get to go for ice cream with Uncle Jeff, remember? You’re gonna go to the beach, too, I think.”

You’d been trying to bribe her all week: a new tutu, a new doll, anything she wanted just to make her give up and accept the fact that her older sister didn’t want her at her slumber party.

And you couldn’t blame either of them. Of course Maeve didn’t want her younger (and very loud, dramatic, and demanding) younger sister trailing behind all night. But, on the other hand, of course CeCe felt left out when she saw all of the older girls arrive with their sleeping bags and birthday gifts.

She sighed again, your conversation interrupted by a ringing from your cell phone on the counter beside her.

“Uncle Jeff?”

She was right, you reached for the phone and held it up with your shoulder, hoping the laughter from the living room wouldn’t travel it’s way into the speaker.

“Hi--are you here?”

“Y/N, I am so sorry to do this--”

“Oh god, Jeff, no!”

“I just got called into the office because one of my artists apparently just posted some stupid shit on the internet--isn’t there someone else who can hang out with CeCe? Where’s Tristan?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I doubt he’d be thrilled to play dress up or skip through a park.”

“Zoey?”

You could hear traffic through his line, his karma for backing out at the last minute was having to sit on the 405. “She has a ten-week-old infant, Jeffrey.”

“Well where’s Harry? Can’t he pitch in?”

You let out a groan, CeCe had taken to pouring sprinkles into her hand and lapping them up with her tongue.

Harry was upstairs, hiding away from the girl gang currently singing karaoke and sipping on juice boxes. He had the day off and had dipped out in the afternoon to meet a friend for lunch. You tried to mind your own business--he could come and go as he pleased and just because you had slept with him once didn’t give you the right to suddenly start asking questions about his plans.

But the universe pitied you, apparently, because right when you told Jeff you’d figure it out and hung up on him aggressively, Harry pranced down the stairs and headed for the fridge.

“How’s it going down here?” He reached for a juice box, crisp apple, and fumbled with the straw when he turned to face you.

“Everyone is alive and nothing is broken,” you scanned the counter, another batch of cupcakes still in the oven with 10 minutes to go.

With the straw now between his lips, he raised his eyebrows. “Bar’s that low, huh?”

“Well, your friend Jeffrey just bailed on watching CeCe and going for ice cream.”

She was blissfully unaware of the change of plans, still licking sprinkles out of her palm, but now swiveled around on the stool to watch the girls jump around in the other room.

“I can take her,” he shrugged nonchalantly, ran a hand through his hair when you stared at him for a second.

If traffic was Jeff’s karma, Harry must have been yours.

“Are you serious? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “CeCe? What do you say we do ice cream and pizza?”

She turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes lit up. “Pepperoni?” She asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied to her like it was a crazy question.

“Is Uncle Jeff coming?”

“He’s not,” You informed her, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re alright to go with Harry?”

You didn’t mean to make it awkward, but mom mode kicked in and you realized CeCe had never spent time alone with Harry except maybe in the backyard.

“Yeah!” She hopped down from the stool and grinned up at him. “Can I get a milkshake?”

Harry looked over to you and when you nodded, he held out his hand. “As many as you want.”

“That’s not what I said,” you called after him, watching as he led her over to the back door. He plucked his keys off the hook on the wall and smiled at you over his shoulder. “Please don’t be out late, text me when you get where you’re going!”

CeCe shouted a bye mommy!!!! before they disappeared into the driveway. A sudden raise in your pulse had you questioning what type of mother lets their 6-year-old get in the car with a pop star who’s probably hounded by paparazzi and maybe even doing cocaine on the weekends.

You picked up your phone and it rang four times before Zoey answered. “I need you to talk me off the ledge.”

“What ledge?”

The timer beeped and you gloved up to retrieve the rest of the cupcakes. “I’m apparently a psychopath because I just let Harry take CeCe for pizza and ice cream.”

You could tell she held back a laugh. “Why does that make you a psychopath?”

“Because he’s a stranger! What if he never comes back with her? What if he gets chased by paparazzi and CeCe is the next Princess Diana?!” The thought shuttered through your bones, a shiver down your spine when Zoey cleared her throat.

“Okay, so, as a mom, I totally get that. But I also think you’re freaking out too much.”

The cupcake tin rattled onto the granite. “How?!”

“He’s not a stranger, he’s been living with you guys for like, over a month now.”

You thought about it for a second. Two weeks turned into a few more, four weeks slipped by easily. What felt like it was going to be a blip on the radar now felt like a totally normal thing: dinners with him as the fourth seat and texts to him in the middle of the day asking if there was anything he was in the mood for.

“I just can’t believe I trust him enough to do that, I guess.”

“Y/N, he’s a good guy,” she laughed. “He likes your kids and he definitely likes you.”

“We’re not going there,” you said. “I have a house full of ten-year-olds and cupcakes to frost.”

“Okay, well, you’re not a psychopath. And there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for him.”

“Zoey! You are starting to sound like the psychopath!”

“I’m alright with that,” laughter through the phone when you told her you had to go. Love you, see you later, pinch Benny’s cheeks for me.

You were swept up in the excitement of the night. Your own pizza was delivered before 8pm, a movie turned on by 9pm. They decorated cupcakes at the dining room table and proceeded to eat more than they could fit in their tummies.

Maeve was in heaven, opened presents when you snapped pictures on your phone. Harry had texted to let you know they’d stop at Shelli and Irv’s before heading home. If CeCe came home in the middle of presents, she’d probably break down right there.

So when you heard the alarm signal a new entry, you hoped CeCe was too tired to argue with you about sleeping in her own room and not in Maeve’s with the rest of them. Your legs were folded beneath you on the couch, noise in the kitchen when Harry rounded the corner with CeCe asleep on his shoulder.

You stood up, eyebrows high when he smirked in your direction. “She’s out cold,” he laughed. “Fell right asleep on the way home.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive from their house,” you said, opening your arms to take her. “Sorry, here.”

“I can bring her up...just lead the way,” he motioned with his head for you to go first up the stairs. He followed you down the hall and to CeCe’s room, pink walls and a plush carpet underneath her twin-sized bed that still seemed too big for her.

He put her down when you flipped on a nightlight, watched when you tugged the duvet over her and kissed her on the forehead. You sighed when you stood up straight beside him, voice quiet. “I’m not waking her up to brush her teeth cause she’ll freak out and want to be included in the party. Am I a bad mom?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, smirked down at you quickly before looking back to her. “You’re a great mom.”

You elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “You have to say that.”

“I do?”

“I’m your landlord,” you laughed, leading him back into the hallway.

“I thought you were my friend?”

A sigh, the darkness a cover for your confusion and your fluttering heart beat. “Yeah, that too.”

He was quiet for a second, if it weren’t for the bedroom of kids down the hall you’d pull him into you despite better judgment. He stared down at you with a dimpled smile, but you took a step back.

“Thanks for taking her, and hanging out with her. You really didn’t have to.”

“I had fun,” he reassured you. “We got a pizza and ate in a park near Westwood Hills, then got ice cream, visited with Shelli and Irv,” he listed it off like it brought him as much joy as it did her.

“Hey, not to be weird or anything, but--how’s your house coming?”

He sensed the shift in the air too, but he didn’t know that it came from a place of fear. A question you had to ask: this was temporary, this wasn’t real, this was just a convenient set up and you couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Oh, yeah--I’m going over on Sunday to see it. Apparently there are still issues with the plumbing that have to be updated. They said it might be a few more weeks.”

“Okay, I just didn’t know.”

“Yeah, is that okay? I can try to find somewhere to stay if you need me out?”

“No,” you said it quickly. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still on yours. He reached forward to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I like staying here with you guys.”

“...I like it too.”

“Mom?” Maeve’s head poked out of her bedroom. “Hayley spilled soda on the carpet!”

He stepped back from you quickly, like his reflexes were getting better each time. You laughed at his sudden movement, “coming!”

He smiled down at you and let out an exaggerated sigh once Maeve’s door was slammed shut and the music was back on, a magnetic pull between your chests that maybe he felt too. “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley.”

But again, a rush of uncertainty and self-doubt made you grateful for the interruption, your stomach weaving itself in knots when you stared at your ceiling fan and hoped that sleep would come.

Work picked up in the next week, Tristan was in your office most days with spreadsheets and graphs and to-do lists that made you feel like you needed a margarita at 2pm. On Wednesday Harry made dinner and CeCe had a meltdown when you forced her to take a bath.

Friday night entailed dinner at Shelli and Irv’s, the girls and Harry and Jeff too. You stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand, Shelli watched as their chef sautéed something through steam. When Jeff pulled Harry away to show him a new guitar Irv had been gifted, you ignored the smile on Shelli’s face.

“How are things going?”

“Fine,” you said, casually and calm and cool. “How are you?”

“Y/N,” she smiled. “Does Jeffrey know?”

“Know what?”

“About you and Harry?”

“No,” you told her quickly. “There’s nothing to know, alright? We were drunk, it was not a big deal.”

“Alright,” she held up a hand, effectively resigning when she sipped her Pinot Grigio, a disappointed sigh before she asked: “How are the girls holding up?”

You sighed, unsure if she’d really drop it. You told her about Maeve’s birthday party and caught her up on the body wash debut. Deadlines were quickly approaching, the launch party was being scheduled and production was full steam ahead.

You almost thought you’d make it through the rest of the night without any drama--no more mention of Harry or the happenings between you. But eventually he and Jeff found their way back to the kitchen and you hoped that no one noticed how close Harry stood to you.

Jeff was in the middle of filling you and Shelli in on Harry’s album plans: they were wrapping up production and soon they’d announce the release date, his excitement cut off by a shout from the backyard.

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice was shrill and desperate as it rang through the house. She let out a loud sob and when you looked up, you saw her clutching her elbow with a new grass stain on her shirt. She was fine, it was one of those moments where she thought the world was ending but everyone else knew getting knocked over by her sister wouldn’t kill her.

“She’s fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes, a quick look down to CeCe who’s eyes were already filled with tears.

“No I’m not!” she screamed back at her sister.

You looked to Shelli with an exasperated look, set your glass of wine down on the counter. Before you could make any movement, though, Harry’s hand hovered on the small of your back. “I’ll go, enjoy the wine. She’s fine.”

He was right, there was no question that CeCe would survive her scraped elbow and bruised ego. He moved towards the backyard and you were frozen in place when Jeff’s forehead wrinkled.

“What was that?” he asked, eyebrows strung together like tea lights once Harry was out of earshot.

“I don’t know--what do you mean?”

You looked over at Harry, now on the ground in front of CeCe who’s wails were much quieter. She wiped at her wet eyes, a little laugh escaped her lips when Harry brushed the grass off of her elbow and cracked a joke.

“Well, he seems pretty good with them,” Jeff leaned against the counter, the sliding door providing a perfect view as CeCe stood up and raced back towards Maeve.

“Yeah, I mean, he is.”

“He also touched your back in a funny way.”

Shelli raised her eyebrows and sipped at her wine again.

“And now my mom is making a weird face,” Jeff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at you. “Are you--is there, like, something going--”

“No,” you said quickly, a finger pointed at Shelli and another pointed at Jeff. “Do not say anything in front of the girls.”

Shelli stifled a laugh but managed to look incredibly innocent at the same time.

“Oh my god!” Jeff said this with a noise of shock, eyes wide when he looked between you and Shelli, then back out to the yard where Harry laughed with Irv. “Oh my god, and you knew?”

Shelli shrugged her shoulders, a don’t blame me look crossed her face when you took a swig of wine to calm the pounding of your heart.

Jeff had always been protective and caring and like a brother. Not in a weird way, not in the you can’t date my friends way. Just in the sense that he wanted to know who you were hooking up with and he’d been encouraging you relentlessly to stop picking assholes ever since you filed for divorce.

But this was different, this was a friend of his and a client of his. It was someone that his entire family knew and this was probably the worst choice of rebound.

“Please relax,” you said this with a look of warning in his direction. “I will explain to you what your lunatic mother is smirking about but you have about fifteen seconds to wipe the look of shock off your face before he comes back in here.”

“She’s fine,” Harry waved a hand once he was back in the kitchen. “And what look of shock are we wiping off of our faces?” The dimple was there again, the corner of his mouth pulled up and he scanned all three of you for any sort of information.

“Just that you are so good with the girls,” Jeff covered for you, a confident nod when he hoped Harry would believe him.

“That’s surprising to you?” Harry pulled his head back, an obvious look of mock offense. “I’m great with children. They love me.”

Maeve came in from the fading light, out of breath from running around with whatever ball they’d gotten their hands on. “Who loves you?”

“Kids,” Jeff replied for him.

“Oh,” Maeve said. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” You looked down at her, unsure if she was agreeing or just voicing that she understood.

She shrugged, plucked a chicken skewer from a dish in front of Shelli. “I mean, I like having him around.”

Harry was practically tickled pink. “Thank you, Maeve.” He turned to rub this in Jeff’s face. “See?”

“He cooks well, plays outside with us, definitely funnier than mom,” Maeve kept listing things off, pulling laughter from the rest of the crew.

“Maeve!” You whined. “I’m funny!”

“You’re like, sometimes funny.”

“Sometimes funny is better than never funny,” Harry nodded in your direction, an attempt to soften the blow.

CeCe had wandered in behind her sister, she picked at the scrape on her elbow until you called her attention. “CeCe--do you think mommy’s funny?”

“Mmmm,” the thought on it for a second, put her finger to her chin and scrunched up her nose. “Sort of.”

Jeff let out a big laugh at that, Harry tried to stifle one and you dismissed the jabs. “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone here is a comedian.”

“Harry’s funny,” CeCe said with a smile. “He reads books in silly voices.”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at that again, amused and surprised by the fact that Harry was in on the bedtime routine. But it was infrequent, sometimes CeCe would beg for more time outside or another thirty minutes of TV.

If the tears got aggressive or the tantrum became too much, she perked up pretty quickly if Harry offered to read with her. It was way more exciting than reading with you, Maeve had explained.

After showering Harry with compliments, the girls were excited to sit on Shelli and Irv’s patio. Pink lemonade and a delicious dinner, though neither of them would even so much as take a bit of your salad.

They ran around some more while you sipped wine, Jeff and Harry had been talked into a two versus two soccer match and Irv laughed his head off when Maeve actually scored on Jeff. Darkness came and CeCe crawled into your lap, eyelids getting heavy until you buckled her into the backseat.

You’d taken one car, CeCe’s booster seat was too clunky to move over to Harry’s so you drove and felt slightly embarrassed about the crayons and coloring books scattered on the floor of the backseat.

“Mom, can I have another sleepover this weekend?”

“With who?”

“All of the girls from last weekend.”

“Honey, no, that was a big party for your birthday.”

“I’m aware,” she shot back quickly. “But we all had so much fun and we wouldn’t be as loud as we were last time.”

“I said no, Maeve. You can do something with your friends if you want but we’re not doing another sleepover right now.”

You’d been hesitant about it in the first place. A group of ten and eleven-year-olds? With Harry in the house? It felt like a recipe for disaster and aside from a few excited stares when they were first dropped off, you all escaped relatively unscathed.

You worried at first about the whispers from other moms--she’s letting a twenty-four year-old live with her children?--but you soon realized that they were almost more excited about sneaking a glimpse of Harry than their daughters were.

“You’re so annoying,” she quipped from the back. “You never let me do anything fun.”

Harry’s lips twitched up in a tiny smirk, a sideways glance in your direction. You’d already told him how awkward it felt to discipline them with him right there, a glass of wine in the kitchen one night and he teased you about your frustrated mom voice.

“Maeve--don’t be rude. You just had a birthday party and now you want another, basically.”

“No, I want to have the same girls over. It’s not my birthday so it’s not a birthday party.”

A left turn into the driveway. “But you want me to order pizza and make cupcakes and you want to drink a bunch of soda again?”

“Yes.”

You pulled into the garage and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “Maeve, sweetie, I love you. But no.”

She let out a huff and shoved the door open, she typed in the entry code and slammed the door to the house before the rest of you could even climb out.

“The drama,” CeCe shook her head, tired steps towards the house.

“The drama is right,” you told her with a laugh. “Go wash up and I’ll come up in a few, okay?”

She scampered up the steps, you dropped your keys on the counter inside and then turned to look at him. “Do you have a second?”

He nodded, leaned on the counter. “What’s up?”

You didn't know if it was a good idea, but you'd spent enough morning drives to school lecturing about how honest is the best policy, so you figured you'd give it a shot.

“Uh, well--Jeff may or may not be suspicious about you and...me.”

Using the phrase made you nervous, like he’d laugh and think it was stupid. You and me.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows arched. “Did you--why did that come up?”

“Well you went to handle my crying child, which is--you know--”

He laughed a little, “too boyfriendy of me?”

Your heartbeat picked up in pace, your face felt hot and it suddenly felt like he was watching you too closely.

“No--I don’t know--you touched my back and he just asked what was happening.”

He deflated at that, hung his head low for a second and then looked up. “Oh, I--uh--I’m really sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You felt bad, that wasn’t the message you were trying to convey. If anything, you wanted to give him the out and the okay that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to step into your family like some hero for you or your daughters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just--I don’t know where you are at, I guess.”

“And now Jeff is asking questions,” he laughed, a nod like he knew where you were going with it.

There was no label necessary. It wasn’t that type of thing, you knew that. “That’s what you walked in on after CeCe got hurt.”

Another nod, like the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. “Right. Got it. Was he--how did he seem? Did you tell him that we--”

“He put it together,” you cut him off, again careful of the words used around the girls even though they were upstairs and--by the sound of it--bickering in the bathroom. “But he was fine with it. I just think we need to be careful, you know. The girls...and this is temporary, and--”

“Absolutely.”

“So, you know, just--”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence. “I should go tuck them in.” You turned on your feet and headed for the stairs before he could reply, desperate to get out of the situation out of fear of having to find more words to string together in a messy jumble of emotions.

Another slammed door from Maeve when you reached the top of the stairs. You knocked twice. “Can I come in, please?”

“No!”

“Maeve,” you leaned against the doorframe. Harry came up and offered an awkward smile. “Please let me talk to you.”

“I’m not talking to you!” She shouted.

Harry came over and knocked. “Maeve? It’s Harry--can I come in?”

Silence for a second, her footsteps were audible on the wood floor. The door opened a crack, she peered out with narrowed eyes. “Fine--but not her.”

You looked over at Harry, unsure of his game plan but also fed up with the theatrics and the overreaction. He shrugged his shoulders half-apologetically, a smirk in your direction before he slipped into the room.

Did you stay and listen? Was it weird? What would he even say to her?

You decided against it, headed for your own bedroom and tugged on pajamas after you flicked on CeCe’s night light and kissed her goodnight. At least only one of them was being dramatic today.

Five minutes passed, then ten. You tried not to look at the clock and focused instead on a book Zoey had told you was a must read.

Eventually there was a knock on your door, Harry pushed it open and smiled. “Do you want some intel?”

“Duh,” you said. “Come in.”

He walked forward and sat on your bed, a sigh when he brought his eyes to yours again. “Well, she said you’re annoying again.”

“Of course.”

“She’s just grumpy. Said Hayley wanted to have a sleepover this weekend because it would be better at her house.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Some 5th grade rivalry.”

“Classic, really.”

You laughed. “Was she okay talking to you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Opened right up.”

“Well, we do know she likes you more.”

He rolled his eyes. “She just likes that I’m not you.”

“Feels like that’s the same thing.”

Quiet for a moment when he angled towards you, scanned your face with his eyes.

“I guess I’ll go say goodnight.”

“Oh, I tucked her in.”

Your mouth tugged into a smirk. “You what?”

“She said she didn’t want you to come in.”

“So you tucked her in?”

He let out a laugh, explained the process like it should have been obvious. “Yeah--pulled up the blanket. Patted her on the head. She said she brushed her teeth.”

You leaned back against the headboard, the same buzzing feeling in your chest took flight when he asked: “why is it so shocking to everyone that I’m good with them?”

It slipped out before you could think of the possible consequences. “Because you’re young.”

“I’m not that young.”

“And Luke was just--not like that. He was pretty disinterested after CeCe was born.” You hoped this was enough of a redirection.

“You’re really caught up on my age, aren’t you?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows and offered a look that said: bullshit. When he didn’t speak, you cracked a joke.

“Or...you are not hung up enough on how old I am.”

“Why should I care how old you are?”

“Cause you’ve had sex with me and you’re living in my house.”

“Both of those things I am aware of. And feel really good about both of them.”

You let out a laugh at his nonchalance, folded your arms over your chest when he stood up. “You’re something else.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed.

“I think you are,” he nodded, leaned closer to you and offered a challenging glare. His hair was messy, he’d been running around in the backyard with them at Shelli and Irv’s, a few glasses of wine in him seemed to loosen him right up to the point that he was ready to slide tackle your six-year-old.

He watched you for a second, almost like he was waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t, though, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as it looked like he wanted to close to the distance between your chests.

Instead of telling him you shouldn’t, instead of telling him that the girls were down the hall and this was risky, you pulled him on top of you, tugged him by the t-shirt until he flopped down on your bed with a laugh against your lips.

He lifted himself up after a clumsy moment, looked down at you and smirked.

“What?” You asked playfully.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone in my whole life.”

His words circled around you, pulled your body up to melt into his when his hand cupped your face. He laced his fingers through the hair along your neck, the warmth from his body made your pulse rise with each second.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this when they’re home?”

If the dimples on his cheeks weren’t enough, if the way his tattoos littered his skin wasn’t enough, if the look in his eyes right now on top of you was not enough to create a full-on mom fantasy in your head, the way he talked about your daughters was.

“Yeah,” you tugged him back against your mouth, felt the way your hips tilted against his without any thought. His hands moved to your wrists, holding them in place when he trailed his lips down your jaw, down your neck, pressing kisses in a line along your collarbone.

His hands were warm when they grazed your hips, connecting with skin beneath the fabric of your shirt. You grasped for the hem of his and tugged it over his head in a quick motion, eager to reconnect and feel his skin against yours.

He tasted like wine and smelled like summer, yanked your panties down to your ankles and used his fingers to pull quiet gasps from you like no one had ever before. He held onto your headboard and thrusted into you after you begged: please, please fuck me.

S’probably my favorite thing to do, he said.

The lights were long off and when your heart beats settled and you wiped sweat from your forehead, he laced his fingers between yours.

“Does Jeff want to kill me?”

“No,” you giggled, turned on your side to get a better look at him. The moon through the window illuminated his nose, his eyebrows, the specks of light green in his eyes as they devoured you. “But I’m sure you’ll get a talking to.”

“Should I not talk to him about it?”

You knew what he was asking, you knew he really meant what am I supposed to tell him? What does this mean?

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t know what he should say or how you should address any of this, because at the end of the day you were a mom and a business owner and he was eight years your junior. He had an album to finish and tour and you knew how that worked.

You watched your dad’s busy lifestyle pull his marriage apart at the seams. Late nights, dinner parties, too much coke in the 80s before you were born and all of those signs pointed in one direction: this would never last.

It couldn’t last, nothing about the equation made sense. Harry + you = fling, rebound, a hook up or friends with benefits type situation that would eventually fade into a memory when he went on tour or when he got the call: your house is finished!

You didn’t have to answer him, though, the pattering of feet in the hallway as a little voice shouted mommy! had you shoving Harry out of bed and onto the floor with a thud before CeCe could push the double doors open.

“Mommy! I had a bad dream!”

“Hi, honey, oh, it’s okay,” you were upright in bed and welcoming her into your arms when Harry grimaced in the dark.

He mouthed a few swear words as you held CeCe, squishing her face into your shoulder to keep her eyes from landing on Harry. You gestured at him wildly with your free hand, ordering him to duck down and remain unseen.

“It was just a dream,” you told her, “you’re okay. Do you want me to walk you back to bed?”

“No,” she cried out quickly. “Can I sleep here?”

You hesitated, then nodded and looked at Harry in the dark. “Of course, yes, you can fall asleep here and then I’ll bring you back to your room.”

“Okay,” she said, the steadiness of her voice returning when she crawled out of your lap and to the spot where Harry had just been. She tugged at the comforters, pushed the pillow in different directions before she let her head rest atop it.

She let out a sigh, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and soon enough Harry poked his head up to look at you with wide eyes as you rubbed CeCe’s back.

You held up a finger to your mouth, gave him a threatening glare when he bit back a laugh. You rolled your eyes--it wasn’t funny. She almost walked in on the two of you and while she’d already endured some traumatic things this year, seeing her mom hooking up with the pop star from down the hall would be sure to take the cake.

When Harry caught your gaze again, you smirked, he giggled, clamped a hand over his mouth and watched you for a second.

“Be quiet!”

“You’re the one talking,” he laughed.

“Well she’s asleep now, but we can’t bring her back yet or she’ll wake up.”

“How long do we have to sit like this?”

“A while,” you told him with certainty. “This is called parenting.”

But he did, he sat on the floor on the side of the bed, watched you watch her and eventually, he picked her up from the mattress and followed you down the hall to her room. She softened into him, head on his shoulder and arms around his neck. The sight of it made you want to replay the earlier scene in your head over and over.

She didn’t stir, a few heavy sighs when you pulled the comforter back up to her shoulders, and once the door was shut behind you both, you smirked up at him.

“I think you should go back to your room.”

“Really? After all of that?”

“After almost getting caught by my six-year-old? Yes.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but maybe we can do that again at some point and have it end differently.”

You nodded. “I think that sounds doable.”

He leaned forward, kissed you quickly, and then turned to head for his own room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

**

Harry came home from his house tour with good and bad news. The plumbing was fixed, which sped up their timeline, and yet the painters and interior decorator had gotten behind because of it, pushing the timeline out a few weeks.

You weren’t sure which part was good and which part was bad, because by now you were having trouble imagining what your house would feel like without him in it.

You got the news when he strolled in, athletic shorts and a baseball hat on his head when Jeff clapped him on the back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously, reached into the fridge for a juice box. “I live here…”

“Oh, I know you live here.”

“Hello, hi,” you waved at Jeff. “Please do not be weird.”

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Harry offered you a fake-apologetic look.

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Jeff mocked him. “Actually, I know how to be cool and not weird about the fact that my childhood best friend and my adult best friend-slash-artist are now, you know, involved.”

Your stomach did a somersault at his wording, a quick look in Harry’s direction, sure that he would deny the accusation or play it all down.

You found it hard to believe that Harry would be in support of labeling this as anything. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be tied to you with any sort of label or phrasing or word?

“Moving on,” Harry said with a nod. “Are we down to meet up with Tom and Sam tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and we have to do that phone call on Tuesday to go over tour dates.”

Maeve ran in then, a smile on her face when she looked up at Harry. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I learned a new chord on the guitar. By myself.”

“You did?” He acted way more excited about it than he likely was.

Jeff smiled and then told Maeve: “If you learn enough chords maybe you can be his guitarist.”

“Really?!” She beamed.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Of course you would say that.”

“Maeve--you’re a kid, you can’t go on tour.”

“She’s right,” Harry said with a sweet smile, “You’re a bit too young for life on the road.”

“I’m eleven now, though!”

“I know! And very mature for eleven,” he complimented. “I’ll tell you what. You can for sure come visit and come back stage and maybe even bring a friend if your mother lets you.”

She looked to you quickly, excitement in her eyes when they all waited for your response. “Yeah--we can go at some point...see a show or something.”

“Hayley is going to die, oh my god!” She squealed with delight and then moved to sit at a stool beside Jeff.

He had half a sandwich on a plate, one he picked up on his way over for a boring Sunday afternoon of lounging by the pool. Maeve reached for a chip from the bag in front of him.

“By the way, mom, she invited me over Wednesday after school to work on a project, so can you bring me?”

“I have to bring CeCe to dance, sweetie.”

“Well I need you to bring me to the store to get supplies for this stupid poster-board thing we have to make! And Hayley’s mom said she had a question about Luna--something about a moisturizer or something.”

“I can take CeCe to dance,” Harry shrugged, almost like an onlooker in the room. “S’not a big a deal.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeff and Maeve crunched on chips between you, watching the exchange.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll just need to put her booster seat in my car.”

“And bring her a snack for after--she’s always cranky and hungry.”

He laughed, “I can manage that.”

“What would we do without you, Harry?” Maeve asked, a smile on her face.

Jeff put his chin in his hands, teasing. “Yeah, what would we do without you?”

“No one would get anywhere, people would seriously be missing out on my chicken tacos, and this house would be a lot less fun to live in.”

Maeve nodded in agreement, another chip stolen from Jeff. “True, true, and true.”

A few nights later it dawned on you that Maeve and Harry were as close as ever, spending evenings in your dad’s old office while Maeve tried to wrap her arms around a guitar long enough to strum a few chords.

CeCe didn’t seem to feel too left out, she was more than happy to be an audience for Maeve when she’d come running into the living room: Harry taught me a G chord!

On Tuesday night after school it was CeCe’s idea to go for pizza, she chirped about it in the backseat the entire way home, and after learning that the body wash production was behind schedule, you weren’t in the mood to cook.

You took Harry’s car--showed him how to strap the booster seat in and make sure it wouldn’t budge. He wore a hat and sunglasses which both girls found hilarious, but to you it was almost disheartening. What did it mean for him to be seen out with your family?

He sat beside CeCe and cut her pizza into tiny bites so it would cool off, Maeve sipped Mountain Dew from a straw and filled you in on the latest with Hayley. This week was going well, though Hayley said something annoying in the cafeteria.

It felt normal, not weird for him to be sitting across from you, his feet against yours beneath the table and a smirk in your direction every once in a while.

Both Tristan and Zoey had been dying to hear more details. It slipped out one day in the office that okay...maybe it wasn’t just a one time thing, and now the group chat you had with them was blowing up every day.

They were excited for you, rooting for your comeback and rebound and eager for you to just admit that there was something there. But you weren’t able to do that, especially not when everything in your heart wanted to.

By the time you’d all finished eating, he dipped out the back to pull the car around front. You pointed at Maeve and told her to watch CeCe while you went up to the counter to pay for the pizza.

The woman behind the register smiled when you approached. Long acrylic nails, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes made it obvious that she could have been your mother.

“We had one large plain and one small with pepperoni,” you told her.

“Oh, you’re all set, sweetie, your boyfriend paid on his way out.”

Your head pulled back in surprise. “Oh--he’s--we’re not,”

She let out a laugh at your hesitance. “He was just as taken back when I told him he had a beautiful family--said they're not his, though."

You forced a laugh, if only to match the humor in her voice when you turned on your heels to head back to your booth. The thoughts started spinning when Maeve and CeCe climbed into the back of Harry’s car.

He smiled at you when you slid in, patted you on the thigh before he turned around to make sure both girls were settled--Maeve clicked CeCe’s buckle into place and then he put the car into gear.

Sleeping with Harry was mostly meaningless, right? He was attractive and living in your house and clearly you both got something out of it. Convenient, easy, fun. Most of your brain had you convinced that there’d never be any more to it. There was no way that Harry would be interested in sticking around: two kids, a business to run. You didn’t exactly come with no strings attached.

And he corrected the woman too--not my kids, not my family, not my wife, not my anything. Had she settled on the next step down when she called him your boyfriend, or had he offered the label to avoid an awkward encounter?

It felt immature, your heart beating with urgency as you thought about it the whole way home, beads of sweat along your hairline and not from the warm weather. He sensed it, eyed you from behind his sunglasses when he parked in the driveway. Maeve and CeCe raced to the backyard, leaving the two of you alone.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good,” you offered a small smile, the same response you gave to one of the girls if they caught you on a bad day.

He followed you inside, kept his eyes trained on you when you dropped your purse on the counter. “What?”

“You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” you lied again. What were you supposed to say? The woman behind the register at the pizza place is making me question the relationship we have and what it means?

You weren’t 17. You were 32. He was 24. All of these numbers swirled in your head when he took a few steps closer to you, eyes out the window quickly to make sure neither of the girls were watching you through the sliding doors.

He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, lips turned down when he looked over your face. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know,” you caught his wrist and held on for a second, like if you let go he’d disappear and take everything between the two of you with him. You closed your eyes, knew better but still said: “the woman behind the counter called you my boyfriend.”

He let out a laugh, unaware that your words were actually a confession. “She called you my wife, said the girls were cute. I told her I couldn’t take credit.”

“Yeah,” you forced another smile.

“Is that--are you, did that bother you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” he said, eyes still on you like he wasn’t quite sure where your head was at. He pressed a confusing kiss to your forehead but then said something about calling his sister. You checked work emails and night faded into morning like it always did, no matter how uncertain life was, you always had that.

The next afternoon you brought Maeve to Hayley’s, dropped her off with glue sticks and markers and a plethora of project supplies. A yoga class after that, had her home and with dinner on the stove by 6pm.

Eventually, CeCe burst through the door with a smile on her face. Her pink tutu was around her waist, her legs clad in light pink tights and her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. “I had the greatest time at ballet!”

You turned around in the kitchen, eager to hear about her day. “You did?”

“I did,” she nodded confidently. Harry came in the front door behind her, sunglasses on his face and CeCe’s unicorn backpack in hand. Maeve was sat at the counter with a pencil, growing angrier with fractions by the minute.

“Why’s that?”

“We danced to a fun song, and we played a fun game, and everyone loved Harry!”

Your eyebrows rose at that, eyes caught his when he lifted the sunglasses. “They did?”

“Moms, not the six-year-olds.”

This caught Maeve’s attention--she sounded almost disgusted. “Moms?”

“I guess ballet pick-up is typically a mom thing?”

You shrugged. “I mean--I don’t see a lot of dads there, so yeah.”

CeCe shimmied out of her tutu and then climbed up to a stool beside Maeve. Harry walked to hang her backpack on a hook by the backdoor, you questioned if it was even worth asking.

“Were they, like, hitting on you?”

“I mean, not really.”

“Not really?”

He walked over to the island and leaned on it, the dimple in his left cheek let you know he liked the hint of jealousy in your voice. “Maybe a little.”

Dinner simmered on the stove, evening sun brought a glow to the kitchen that made his eyes even more green than usual. When you didn’t reply he broke your gaze, let out a sigh and said: “I’m going to shower before dinner, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded quickly, embarrassed by the silliness of your question. Of course the moms were hitting on him, of course they were intrigued by his presence and of course they couldn’t help but say hi or even ask for a photo. It shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.

He was up the stairs and out of sight quickly, CeCe picked up an extra pencil of Maeve’s and started doodling on her agenda book. You pushed sautéed veggies around in a frying pan and pretended that all of this was normal.

“Hey mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Harry?”

You turned around quickly, Maeve’s eyes were inquisitive but not judgmental.

“Do I like Harry? Of course--he’s nice.”

“No, I mean do you like like Harry?”

CeCe didn’t seem too interested in your answer, she hummed to herself and kicked her feet back and forth. Maeve, though, waited patiently while you tried to piece together words that wouldn’t make the roof blow off of your house.

“Harry and I are friends, sweetie.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You let out a forced laugh. “What is making you ask this?”

“You seemed jealous about the other moms.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you defended. Were you really about to get into it with your eleven-year-old? Would you really defend yourself and make this the hill on which you'd die?

She watched you for a second, looked back down at the worksheet in front of her. “You seemed jealous.”

You were thankful for the fact that she wasn’t making any eye contact now. You let out a sigh and decided that not responding was your best option. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, had it been that obvious? Was she old enough to pick up on the undertones of your relationship?

You turned back to the stove, watched the vegetables sizzle in the pan as your mind started to cave in on itself. All of this was getting out of control, right? First the woman yesterday and the dizziness that overtook you when she said the word boyfriend. Now Maeve sitting at the counter with a curiosity in her that you couldn’t really blame her for.

The doorbell rang, CeCe’s head popped up in excitement. “Who is that?!”

“I don’t know,” you said. She hopped off her stool and took off the door as you followed behind her. You hadn’t planned on a visit from Jeff, maybe Tristan needed last minute approval on a product.

But when CeCe yanked the door open with both hands and an excited smile on her face, you didn’t expect to see Luke, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised high.

“Daddy!”

“Hi sweetie,” he knelt down on one knee, wrapped his arms around her when Maeve made a noise of excitement before rushing over. She crashed into him, pushing her way into their hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly.

“I wanted to visit, I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug, eyes glancing up to you.

It was bullshit, he’d always been good at talking his way out of things or coming up with an explanation, smile sweet and words even sweeter. He backed away from them when they let go, stood back up and smiled at you, a quick nod in greeting.

“How’ve you been?”

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[collecting-stories]

Cardigan - Rafe Cameron

Request: heyy for the ts anthology, can u do one for cardigan with rafe? love ur writing🤍 

TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

The summer you turned thirteen was the same summer your dad showed up again. Driving the same lemon of a car that he’d pulled out of the driveway in when you were six, he looked like he hadn’t aged. Or maybe you just didn’t remember him all that well because his face felt the same but you were different. When you missed your best friend’s birthday, a trip to the gymnastics gym on the mainland and a towering cake with fondant replicas of all her favorite things, she was rightly pissed.  

Thirteen felt monumental, like the movie the two of you had snuck onto your mom’s Verizon bill, and you had both made a pact that you would be there for each other no matter what. That promise included birthdays and, more seriously, dads who showed up after seven years of radio silence because they didn’t want to “miss anything else”. But you didn’t mention your dad because hers was so great and you felt a little like you were floating on an island and no one could understand you enough to reach it. But then you missed her birthday and she swore not to speak to you and that felt more crushing than the dad thing until her brother stepped in. Always the one playing referee in when you fought, Rafe was a few years older and, in your mind, a lot smarter.  

It felt pretty important that an older boy would make the time to talk to you, especially when he had to know that his sister was avoiding you at all costs. He’d just gotten his permit and, like any good brother, showed up in the car he wasn’t supposed to drive with a minor in the passenger seat, to take you around the island for the afternoon.  

“My mom said she thinks we’re gonna move.” You mentioned, less casually than you would’ve hoped. The windows in the truck were rolled down and you had your legs up, feet placed precariously on the window ledge. There was a particularly nasty bruise on your knee from falling off your skateboard three days ago and a few short hairs you’d missed shaving. You were relatively new to both shaving and skateboarding so there were bound to be mistakes, you just wished they were less visible.  

“Off the island?” Rafe asked, concern etched into his tone. You assumed the concern was for his sister, what would Sarah do if you moved? Who would put up with all her antics?

You shook your head, “to the cut.”

“Why?”

“She can’t afford the house on her own anymore and my dad has been lousy with child support.” You repeated back all the things she had said to you. Why she didn’t take him to court like the other kid in your grade with divorced parents was beyond you. Rose told her that it was the only way to ensure he paid what he was supposed to but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hold him accountable.  

Can’t believe you’re gonna be a pogue.” He said it like it meant something worse than you moving to the mainland.

“It’s not forever. My grandma’s house is there, we’re gonna stay with her until we can get back up on our feet.” You shrugged, “at least my dad’ll stay away then.”

But you dad wasn’t the only one who kept their distance. It felt like the distinction over your mother’s life choices held a greater impact on your friends than they had let on. A year into pogue life and Rafe seemed to disappear almost completely. It had always been an odd kind of friendship in the first place but you’d thought that it could’ve withstood a change in address.  

Sarah kept in touch, unbothered by labels or mailing addresses. She’d been to your grandma’s a hundred times before you moved and she continued to go there to see you after. The two of you played in the backyard, doing tricks on the trampoline until gossiping about kids at school became more important than cartwheels. You’d lay there whispering as if someone might overhear, telling each other stories from the week that you were separated. Rafe always came to pick her up, staying in the car and honking the horn for her but never coming over to see you.  

It felt a little lonely even though you technically retained most of your friends.  

-

In tenth grade you got the role of Eponine in the teen camp production of Les Miserables that the local theatre was putting on. You were technically sharing the role with another girl your age but you couldn’t help being excited nonetheless. The boy playing Marius was in two of your classes, a senior who had lofty city dreams and a nice smile. He flirted almost constantly with you, brushing your hair back, telling you how pretty you were, inviting you out after practice. You told Sarah you were “pretty sure” you were on your way to having your first real boyfriend.  

But maybe the ominous casting of Eponine over your life should’ve been hint enough that things weren’t destined to work out that way. The boy who played Marius had an actual girlfriend, home from vacationing with her family in time to watch her boyfriend on stage, and you were supposed to accept that he was just “connecting to the character” when he was with you. Either way, your On My Own struck a different chord in you and after the show was over you didn’t join the other cast members in the lobby to greet people.  

“So when you get to New York...do I get to leak all those videos of you and Sarah doing your Genie in a Bottle routine?” Rafe asked, pulling a chair next to you at the makeup table. Yours was halfway off but you’d stopped scrubbing at your face to stare at yourself in the mirror. Self-pity was a powerful procrastinator.

“You’re supposed to be in the lobby.” You pointed out, ignoring his comment, “I look like a ghost raccoon that just climbed out of a dumpster.  

“Now there’s an analogy.” He laughed and picked up the cotton pads you had sitting on the counter, soaking one in micellar water and turning your head to face him.  

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to keep your composure. It’d been a while since you and Rafe had been alone and last time he was just your best friend’s cute older brother. Too old for you and way out of your league but you were fifteen now and seventeen didn’t feel so far away.  

But Sarah was your best friend and she would be mortified if she found out that you had even entertained the idea of her brother, let alone had serious thoughts about it.  

“I’m sorry,” you said as he swiped the cotton pad over your cheek.

“What for?”  

“I know we’re all supposed to go out tonight for dinner but I kinda just wanna go home.” You replied.  

“Sarah might’ve let it slip about-”

You groaned, “don’t even say his name.” You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment at having let yourself totally believe he liked you but hearing Rafe bring it up made you feel even worse.

“Hey, you’re so much better than that loser,” He insisted, “I’ll beat the crap outta him though, just say the word.”

-

It was that same year, just as school was ending, that you turned sixteen. A short stay in the cut at your grandma’s house had helped your mom get back on her feet. A new job, better than the one that let her go, afforded a moderately sized house back on Figure Eight and a birthday with all the friends that had left the two of you behind.  

Sixteen felt a little more important than thirteen had, especially because, for two whole weeks, time suspended and you were technically only a year younger than Rafe. You still hadn’t told Sarah that you liked her brother, though she did seem a little suspicious when the crush on your co-star dissipated almost overnight. The boys of the past had no hold over your growing infatuation with Rafe. Maybe it was foolish but you couldn’t help thinking that maybe it wasn’t.  

Especially not when he showed up at your house the same way he had when you were thirteen, though this time he had his actual license and not just a permit. He told you it was birthday drive around the island, that he was in charge of stalling you while Sarah set up a surprise party at your house.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that it’s a surprise.” You teased, sipping at the iced coffee that Rafe had brought you when he picked you up. You swished the ice around once before sipping again.  

“It’s a party either way.” Rafe replied, shrugging his shoulder.  

“So, we’re just driving around until she texts you?” You asked. Rafe turned into the Island Club, circling the parking lot once and then turning back around.  

“I’m yours until Sarah says otherwise.” He said, the words erupting butterflies in your stomach. You could practically feel yourself heat up thinking about what those words could mean if he wasn’t just your best friend’s brother.  

“Well...then do you wanna go to the beach?” You suggested, “Jaxon showed me this really cool spot on the south side that’s practically hidden.”

“Jaxon?” Rafe sounded judgmental when he said the other boy’s name, whether he meant to or not.  

“Yea, we’ve been on a couple dates. You know him, he took me to prom,” you supplied, thinking of the way Rafe had sulked on the staircase while you and Sarah had gotten your pictures taken on the front lawn of Tanney Hill. The last picture in the bunch, despite his sulkiness, was of you and Rafe. You’d asked and he had obliged, coming down onto the porch to take a picture with you before everyone left for the dance.  

It was your favorite picture, even more than the countless ones of you and Sarah or the few of you and Jaxon. He was just a place holder anyway, someone to take your mind off the thing you couldn’t have. Not that it was working, especially when you were driving around with Rafe at the moment.  

“I remember him.” Rafe replied, “so this special part of the beach?”

“It’s so pretty.” You confirmed, “Sarah and I went there a couple weeks ago but she only ever wants to sunbathe.”  

“Don’t say it like you’re surprised.” He said, pulling his car off to the side of the road when you told him to.  

You were out of the car first, letting the door fall shut behind you as you headed up the wooden ramp to the beach. The drop off at the top was a little steeper here than anywhere else, the beach mostly desolate. You stopped at the top of the walkway, turning back to wait for Rafe. He was standing at the bottom of the ramp staring up at you.  

“Are you coming up or what?” You called.  

“Yeah,” he nodded, walking up the path to you.  

“I know Sarah’s planning a big birthday for me, but I’d much rather have this...” you admitted, “just like, coming out to the beach with you...”  

“Oh yeah?” He asked, grinning down at you.  

“Don’t tell Sarah,” you joked, “she’ll be mad-”

“Why, cause I’m your favorite Cameron?”

Maybe it was being sixteen or maybe it was that you were feeling particularly bold, out here on the beach with just Rafe, no threat of prying eyes to interrupt you. Either way, you had been thinking about telling him for a while now and it felt like the time...even if getting rejected ran the risk of ruining your birthday.  

“I know I’m just Sarah’s best friend but...I really like you Rafe.” You said, “and I know it’s like a million to one that you like me back but I just felt like I would explode if I didn’t tell you.” You waited a beat for him to say something and when he didn’t you kept talking, “Sorry, I know this is so weird-”

“It’s not weird.” Rafe cut you off, “I’m just shocked that you seriously think I only see you as Sarah’s best friend.” His tone was teasing as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek. “You’re so much more than that.”

-

It was Sarah who told you, days before your eighteenth birthday. She’d seen Rafe with someone else when her family took a weekend trip out to Chapel Hill to see a game. There was a girl there, hanging all over her brother. He swore she was just a friend, told Sarah not to tell you, but Sarah wasn’t dumb and she wouldn’t help her brother cover up an indiscretion. So she told you flat out that her brother was cheating on you.  

When Sarah first found out that you and Rafe were dating, she had been as mad as her thirteenth birthday. How could you go behind her back and date her brother? The anger dissipated slowly, over the course of the summer it became clear that were not going to leave her in the dust for Rafe. She wasn’t wholly supportive of the relationship but she was supportive of you and if Rafe was who you wanted to be with than she’d be happy for you.  

But if she had to choose, it would always be you over Rafe.  

“I didn’t want to tell you, I really thought about not saying anything but...you deserve to know.” It was the justification she used as your face fell, all the giddiness from planning your eighteenth birthday fading in the blink of an eye.  

“He cheated?” And it felt like a punch to the gut. “Are you sure?”

“He said she was just a friend but...I don’t hang on my friends like that.” Sarah remarked.  

You fiddled with the phone in your lap, Sarah’s comments turning over in your head. You could refute them, tell her that you’d just talked to him the night before and he told you how excited he was to see you, how much he loved you. He’d used the word love...that had to mean something right? You could call him, ask him straight away if he was actually cheating, but you suspected that he would only lie to you. And if he wasn’t cheating, if he did tell the truth, would you believe him? Sarah was your best friend and once she had planted the seeds of doubt in you, they seemed to flourish there.  

You didn’t say anything else about it to Sarah that night and when Rafe called to talk, like he always did, you pretended that everything was fine. But that could only last for so long. A week before your party, on the same special part of the beach that Rafe had first kissed you, things ended. Rafe had sworn to Sarah that the girl at school was just a friend but he couldn’t lie to you, and he didn’t try to either.  

“It was a mistake,” he insisted, as if it was the type of thing you could brush off.  

“But you still made it.” You replied.  

“I didn’t mean to.” Rafe didn’t have any good reasons for why he had cheated on, only that he had and that, since you now knew, he was apologetic. “I don’t even talk to that girl anymore. She meant nothing to me.”

“Obviously she meant more than we did.”  

Rafe had been it for you for a long time. He seemed so out of your league and you had thought a million times that you would’ve done anything for him. He was the ideal for everything that you wanted and for a while, when you had it, had him, it had felt like a dream. But now you were waking up to reality and it wasn’t a sunset on the beach.  

“I love you.” He said it like it was something you were neglecting to remember.  

“Not enough.”  

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 1: “Hero Signal”

We’re kicking things off with everyone’s favorite hero Judai/Jaden Yuki’s birthday! Show the fluffy boi some love!

This chaos ran away from me. But I’m quite happy with it.

Jaden’s knee bounces, one eye on the game in his hands, the other on his phone. He’s played this game a hundred times before so he doesn’t really need to pay full attention unless it’s the boss fight. His duffle bag is already packed. He’s ready this time, he’s waiting, he’s...excited? That’s a new concept. He can’t remember the last time he’d been excited for his birthday. But last year his friends had gone out of their way to surprise him, so-

Maybe he’s expecting too much.

No, no, we’re trying to be positive here!

Jaden shakes his head, misses the timing for a jump, and has to start the virtual obstacle course over. Today’s gonna be a good day. Clutching the console tighter, Jaden tries to ignore the thick, slimy feeling bubbling up his chest.

His phone vibrates and he dives for it.

[come meet me at central park]

Yes! He snaps the GameBoy shut without saving, chucks it in his bag as he shoulders it, and runs for the door. The park, huh? Maybe he’s not supposed to bring his stuff? Whatever, won’t be their first impromptu sleepover.

He snaps to a halt at the sight of his mother slipping her shoes off at the genkan. “Mom?”

She looks up as if startled to see him. “Judai?”

And there goes his good mood. His mother eyes the bag on his shoulder, what would have been a pleasant but entirely fake smile crinkling into a frown.

“I’m heading out,” he grumbles as he walks past her to get his own shoes.

“I got off early today so I thought we could go get a cake.” Ugh, she sounds so damnably confused, like really? What did you expect?

“I’m heading out!” Jaden snaps, shoving his shoes on, and throws himself out the door before she can get another word in edgewise. It slams behind him. He takes off running.

Geez. Breathing through his teeth, he tugs on his hair. No one even calls him that anymore. ‘Cept that freaking voice in his dreams-

Nope. Not thinking about that. Today’s gonna be a good day.

Winged Kuriboh trills by his head but it’s Neos’ voice that startles him. “She seemed like she was making an effort.”

“Too little, too late.” Jaden huffs and steadfastly plows forward to the train station and out of their middle of nowhere suburb. “I’ve already got plans.” He tightens his grip on the bag strap. And he’d much rather spend the day with people who actually know him and what he likes. He cringes in delight at the memory of the mountain of presents from last year. Wonder what they got him this time?

The train ride is dull like usual; Jaden sticks himself in a corner and plays on his GameBoy until Kuriboh alerts him to their stop. Then the console is shoved back in his bag as he shoulders it and shoves his way through the other passengers toward freedom. The park is a ten minute walk from there, and his friends are conspicuously easy to spot.

There’s a gazebo deck out in balloons and streamers and one of those shiny fucking rainbow “Happy Birthday” signs with his name. Sweet Neo Space, Jaden wants to hide in a trash can like Syrus did at the tournament.

“I can’t.” Jaden spins on his heel, hoping no one has spotted him yet. Sparkman actually goes out of his way to grab Jaden’s shoulders and spin him back around, and Jaden lets him despite the fact he could easily break out of the ghostly hold. “Alright, alright. Gods, my friends are embarrassing.”

As if on cue, someone must have noticed him because a chorus of voices call out.

“Jaden!”

“Jaden, over here!”

Yeah, like he hadn’t already seen the giant sign announcing his birthday to the world. That had to be Atticus’s idea. Walking up to the gazebo is an odd cocktail of emotions, somewhere between please let me die and I will die happy. A mountain of presents sit on the table. It’s...it’s bigger than last year?

“You look like you’re about to faint,” Bastion says, already offering an arm to steady Jaden.

“I might,” Jaden squeaks, a rare moment of vulnerability that is both terrifying and insanely freeing. “You guys... This is a lot.”

“And nothing less for such a special day!” Atticus throws his arms out in a grand display and Jaden winces with a strained laugh.

“A little too much,” he admits.

Atticus’s expression falls into confusion as Christina snorts and Alexis gives her brother a critical look. “I told you his name on the banner was too much.” Jaden nods in silent agreement, not daring to meet their eyes. Bastion’s arm remains a comforting support around his shoulders.

As extravagant as Atticus likes to act, he actually stops to consider this before shrugging. “I’ll keep that in mind then. I guess I do get carried away.” Scratching the back of his head, he smiles sheepishly.

“Oh you think?” Chazz scoffs. “Should have seen what my party looked like.”

Jaden latches onto the ability to swerve the conversation away from himself. “Oh, yeah! Sorry I missed that.”

“You weren’t even invited!” Chazz snaps. “That dolt went and invited himself!”

“You had fun and you know it,” Atticus says, undeterred.

“I have photo evidence,” Syrus says with a smug grin from where he sits on a table bench, and Chazz snaps to gape at him in horror.

“Delete them! Delete them, you little rat!”

“Make me!” Syrus challenges, deftly dodging Chazz’s lunge and darting behind Hassleberry, a solid wall of muscle who Chazz still tries to lunge around.

“Oi! Who said you could drag me into this?!” Hasselberry shoves both of them away as Chazz flails his arms uselessly at Syrus.

Snickering, Jaden moves away from Basation to drop his bag under the bench next to Christina as the game of chase continues. “You brought your bag.”

“Crashing at your place after this,” Jaden says. A statement not a question, and Christina sends him a look but thankfully doesn’t ask.

A screech pulls their attention to Chazz awkwardly dangling from the gazebo railing after what must have been an epic nosedive. “You did that on purpose!” he screams at a smug Syrus, and Jaden’s hands fly to his mouth as the laugh spills out of him.

“Think twice about chasing me next time!”

Just damn his friends are insane and Jaden loves it. Atticus and Bastion take pity on Chazz and help him back into the gazebo, while Jaden cautiously looks over the spread on the table. One side is the pile of colorful boxes, a giant cake with whip cream and strawberries on the other, and Jaden baulks at the figure with a book in his hand at the far end of the table.

“Zane??”

Without looking up, Zane points directly at Atticus and flips the page in his book. “Don’t get used to this.”

“Suuuure,” Christina drawls with one of those I know something you don’t want me to smiles. Ever the king of poker faces, Zane doesn’t react. He doesn't even react to Atticus dropping a party hat on his head on his way to the-

That’s a deep fryer. That’s a deep fucking fryer that Atticus pulls a fresh batch of fried shrimp out of. “Atticus,” Jaden croaks. “I love you but I hate you.”

“Awww, I love you too Jaden!” Atticus doesn’t miss a beat and Jaden slumps onto the bench to bury his face in his arms. These people will be the death of him!

And he will still die happy.

“I think we broke him.” Syrus pokes his shoulder.

“Just leave him alone for a bit.” That’s Alexis’ voice, a brief but firm hand on his shoulder to remind him she’s there if he needs her but will give him space. It’s a little terrifying how well she’s come to know him, that they all have really; Jaden can’t remember ever making the decision to let them get so close. But maybe it’s a good thing, Jaden thinks, as Atticus passes out plates of the best fried shrimp Jaden has ever tasted, he and Bastion eagerly exchange deck theories, and the mountain of presents turns out to be mostly snacks, new video games, and useful but themed items rather than more stuff that will collect dust in his room. The E-Hero throw blanket and the Winged Kuriboh pillow are coming with him to the dorm.

[I’m sorry I couldn’t make it! Happy birthday, Jaden!!! Send pictures!] Chumley texts part way into the festivities with a liberal amount of heart and party popper emojis, and Jaden has to take another moment to recollect himself.

“I tried to get Aster out here too, but the guy said he was too busy.” Atticus holds his hands aloft and shakes his head like this is such a tragedy.

“Hey, I’m surprised you got Zane in on this.” Jaden looks up from the pillow of his arms. He’s starting to tire in the high energy atmosphere but he doesn’t want to leave yet. Maybe his friends won’t care if he just zens for a bit? They didn’t seem to notice last time when he quietly retreated to the side with Christina, but they’d also been screaming over a board game.

“I had the day off anyway,” Zane says, still not looking up, and no one bothers him for not engaging. Then again, Zane has never been much for engaging in anything.

“Just keep pretending you don’t care.” Atticus ruffles Zane’s hair and Jaden sniggers at the way Zane’s poker face cracks the tiniest bit.

Syrus and Hassleberry start arguing over who’s gift Jaden liked better - Jaden refuses to choose much to their dismay - Christina and Alexis seem to be talking about a show they’re both into, and Chazz and Bastion are debating the existence of other realities - really, Chazz? They already know those exist. They’ve been to one.

Jaden smiles, hidden by his arm, left to chill in peace and interact as he pleases.

Yeah, this is a good thing.

Maybe us against the world doesn’t have to just be the two of them anymore.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Remember Me ~ Worick Arcangelo x Reader

Disclaimer: This is going to have mentions of past abuse and supposedly illegal behaviour, but considering it’s Gangsta we’re talking about, I don’t think anyone should be surprised by darker themes addresses.

Birthdays...Have always been tedious. A drag. More work than they are worth...So, I wonder...Why do I actually bother doing a party at my home?

I mean, it’s true, I get it, I’m 21, I’m of age...Legally an adult, legally allowed to drink, legally everything whatever...The same as it has been for the past 3 years...

And MAYBE it’s fun to sometimes gather around with your friends and do the same things everyone always does at parties, loud music, alcohol, cigarettes and gossips...

But there is always that annoying anxiety feeling surging through my veins whenever I have to be around more than 3 of my friends, considering this is a party organised by me, and everything has to be done perfectly, everyone must feel good, and at home, not to be left out...

I can already envision myself being the only outcast, anyway, but that’s besides the point.

It’s already evening, the alcohol is sitting on the table, the pizza boxes are stacked up in a mountain on the floor, plastic cups everywhere, ash trays placed strategically, dim lights, coloured light projectors to make the room look like a disco...

And then there’s me. Sitting anxiously on the couch in the living room, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a long plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, along with some silver rings and a necklace. Casual, comfy, yet pretty elegant in its simplicity.

My friends arrived soon, very loudly congratulating me on aging one more year, fantastic...But they had a mischievous smirk on their faces...

And they brought in a tall, blond man who looked very macho, and I could only blink in confusion as everyone walked inside.

“Uhm...Who is he? One of yours boyfriend or something?” I asked, eyeing everyone attentively. “Nooo, silly! He’s our gift for you!” my best friend grabbed the man by his arm, shoving him towards me. “I’m...Not sure I follow.” I spoke with even more unease, not wanting to believe what I was hearing. “He’s Ergastulum’s most wanted Gigolo! And tonight, he’s all yours to do with as you please! C’mon, you deserve to let loose and have fun once in a while, y’know? Forget about all those jerks and enjoy pleasure like you’ve never felt before~!” my other best friend grabbed me by my shoulders from behind, putting her chin on top of one of her hands, slurring seductively. “...I see.” I muttered, looking away, trying to mask my displeasure at what I was hearing. “Anyway, let’s get you drunk! You won’t get to enjoy anything if you’re so cold and reserved with everyone, y’know? Maybe that’s why you’re always alone! Now c’mon, let’s have fun!” she dragged me to the drinks table, and we started playing drinking games like never have I ever...

Gotta say, Vodka and Bailey’s has always been a shot combination that I adore, and I’m grateful that it takes a long time to get me drunk, because these girls are wasted, while I’m not, so I can escape their grasp. Drunk dancing isn’t that fun, even to watch, and they were making fools of themselves, screeching, giggling...More or less sounding like pained donkeys.

Or maybe I’m just too judgemental and mean because I’ve been in a bad mood and spiraling since they got in my home. To be fair, I don’t even care what is the truth. These are my feelings and I’m not going to play them off as insignificant or non-existent.

Eyeing them carefully, I take a pack of cigarettes and make my way out of the house and sit on the stairs, taking a deep breath of the cold winter night air, I light up a cigarette, taking a drag and staring up at the sky, letting my endless train of toxic thoughts overwhelm me.

I was so long in my own mind that I didn’t notice the door opening until a shadow blocked my vision, and I noticed the platinum blond man sitting down on the stairs below me, resting his back on the wall on the side.

“Y’know...I haven’t been to many birthday parties before, but I’m pretty sure the birthday girl is supposed to be pampered and the center of attention, and yet, here you are, outside, alone and sad.” the man spoke seriously, with his usual light glint. “How much did they pay you?” I muttered, lighting another cigarette, realising that the other one burn without taking another drag of it. “Hmmm? What do you mean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “I’m tipsy, not stupid. You think I can’t think rationally after 8 shots? You’re dead wrong. Now, tell me, how much did they pay you and what exactly did they tell you to do?” I asked in a pressed tone, side-eyeing him. “You’re certainly perceptive, I give you that. T’was quite a lot of money to spend the night with you.” he tilted his head in a playful way. “Not only they have no faith in me to get someone to even remotely like me...They have to pay someone to do something that I dread with a burning passion. Do you even know my name? I don’t know yours.” I shrugged, hanging my head, gritting my teeth in annoyance. “I see your friends screwed up a bit. Name’s Worick, nice to meet you.” he extended his hand towards me. “...Y/N. Nice to meet you too...I think.” I sighed, staring reluctantly at his hand, before slowly shaking it. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. Wanna talk to a guy you’ll never see again? I heard that venting and letting out pent up emotions helps.” he offered, making me look at him with a weird face. “You know you’re not gonna get any action, so you try to do something for the money you earned, huh?” I snorted, raking my fingers through my hair. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. Contrary to my profession, I’m a pretty chill guy. What do you have to lose, talking to someone you’ll never see again? And besides, I have little room to judge you, so if that’s your worry, you can throw it away.” he lit up a cigarette, puffing up into the sky. “You’re...Not wrong here. Okay, fine, Pretty Boy. Imagine this. You’re not even of age, you get your first lover and you’re happy. You finally feel superior. Someone gives a fuck about you...That’s the definition of a lover, after all, I guess...But here’s the deal. Barely one month into the relationship, the person starts getting very pushy and pressures you, without you realising. Words and actions. It goes to the point that they force you to do things that you don’t want to and you’re not ready to, mentally or physically...And you can’t do anything except for denying, since they don’t listen and they overpower you. How is that, so far?” I spoke, taking a few breaks in between sentences to keep myself grounded and lucid. “Very suckish. Does any of your friends know that?” Worick asked in a gentle voice. “They do...My two best friends do. The ones who apparently paid you. I don’t know what’s in those tiny brains of theirs, but I don’t think a one night stand is going to somehow magically get me rid of all problems, traumas, self-issues and nightmares I’ve been having for the last years. Or maybe I’m just paranoid. I don’t know, and at this point, I can’t stay that I care.” I shrugged, leaning back on the stairs. “Maybe you have the wrongs friends. I heard words about you that I don’t think friends should speak like that about their so called best friend who trusted them enough with their bad experiences.” he pointed out nonchalantly, as I shifted my gaze towards him with a frown. “After today...I...Think the same. I...Just...Wasn’t expecting something like this. What more can I say. I am disappointed. And if that wasn’t enough, my second boyfriend, who was a virgin, saw my own virginity as a prize. And the third pity-dated me. Can it get any worse? Because, if yes, I honestly give up.” I sighed, ruffling my hair, obviously done with life. “Life sure sucks, huh? And most people don’t make it any better. All we can do is get stronger, carry on, and fight our nightmares.” he nodded in agreement, clearly sympathetic. “...I see you’re speaking from experience. I wonder what happened to your eye...It may sound insensitive, but after what I just told you, I don’t think there’s any more need for caution.” I smirked at him with a dark sort of self-deprecation that I could also sense in him. “Well, y’know...Sometimes parents aren’t the safe haven they ought to be.” he shrugged, extinguishing the finished cigarette on the stairs. “I see. Yeah, life sucks. I guess I can see why you become a Gigolo. An attractive guy selling his body for money...By what they said, you are the most popular. I can see why. I feel sorry for you.” I gave him a sympathetic smile that disappeared as fast as it came. “You have a pretty smile, y’know? I always thought that people who can smile despite all they’ve been through are the strongest.” he commented, smiling back. “Is that why you appear to be so cheerful? You’re strong, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally too? Wish I was the same. Maybe people won’t find me such an easy target to take advantage of.” I snorted sarcastically, making him chuckle. “It’s a pity people are shit to the few remaining ones who don’t give in to society’s awfulness. But what is a sweet girl like you doing in a shithole like Ergastulum? Doesn’t quite add up.” he asked, getting in a better sitting position. “Life happened. Dad left us, and mum is abroad working to get me enough money to go to university by the end of this year. This place, despite how scary and dangerous it is, was the cheapest place I could afford.” I bit my lip, trying not to worry too much about the future. “I’m sure you’re gonna nail it, so don’t worry too much. You seem like a smart girl, so just study hard and don’t forget to enjoy life. By your standards, not others’.” he smirked, tilting his head towards the door. “You’re funny, Worick. I wish we met under different circumstances.” my voice became lower, only to get interrupted by the door slamming open and the girls leaving the place. “Well, look at you two, lovebirds! You look so cuuuuuuuute! Hey, Gigolo, better take good care of her, got it?! The night is still young for you two! Awesome birthday party, as usual, Y/N, see ya next time!” the girls left, making me blush from embarassment, looking away. “You’ve got very sensible friends.” he muttered ironically, shaking his head. “I’ll...Go tidy the apartment. Maybe I’ll be able to focus on something else. Come one, I’ll warm up some pizza.” I shrugged, getting inside the house. “I didn’t think you’d want me around in your home.” Worick pointed out, leaning on a wall. “You got paid to spend the night with me, correct? Then you’ll do what you got paid for. Keeping me company. You have no idea how refreshing it is talking to someone with some fucking brain in their head.” I plopped down on the couch, putting my feet on the table, turning on the TV to a rock music program and patting the seat next to me for him to join. “It’s an honour to spend time with you.” he chuckled, taking a slice of pizza, leaning back on the couch and mimicking my position.

For the rest of the night, he was gracious enough to help me tidy up and clean everything, and when we were finally done, I went to change in my nightgown, taking a book and getting in bed, only to see the man leaning on the frame of the door awkwardly.

“Ah, yes, how could I forget. Let me find some larger clothes for you to change into.” I put the book down, going to the wardrobe and finding some oversized clothes in which I sometimes sleep. “Are these yours?” he chuckled in amusement. “Yep.Gotta be comfy when you sleep, right?” I shrugged, getting back in bed. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s why I sleep naked.” his grin grew wider, making me frown in confusion. “Sleeping naked is comfy for you?” I put the book on my lap, looking at him for an answer. “Did you try?” he asked smugly. “Yeah. I felt incredibly uncomfortable and anxious the for hours and couldn’t sleep. At 4 AM I couldn’t stand it any longer and I put a nightgown on.” I scratched my cheek, looking away. “That’s adorable. What were you reading?” he asked, getting closer to me. “Get changed and you can come over. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. You got paid, you deserve better.” I waved my hand at him dismissively, only for him to leave the room, get changed, take the book from my hand, flip through all the pages, and return it. “Ah, Picture of Dorian Gray. I’ve been wanting to read it for a while, thanks for the opportunity, I have to say, I rather appreciate his monologues.” he gave me a shit-eating grin, plopping in bed next to me. “I...You...Huh?! You can’t tell me you just read THIS book, right now, for the first time in your life, by just flipping rapidly through the pages!” my expression was that of pure shock and disbelief, which clearly amused him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, sweet cheeks.” he smirked, laying his head down on the pillow. “You...You have an extraordinary visual memory?!” I asked in a voice that I wasn’t sure was heard. “You’ve got that right, darling.” he chuckled with a satisfied smile. “...WHY THE HELL ARE YOU A PROSTITUTE?! YOU ARE A GENIUS! YOU COULD DO SO MUCH MORE WITH YOUR LIFE! EARN AN UNBELIEVABLE AMOUNT OF MONEY! DO YOU HAVE NO AMBITION AND SAFE-LOVE?!” I grab him by the shoulders, shaking him, until he stopped me. “Calm doooown, Y/N, calm down. Thanks for looking out for me, but life is life. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got all I need here. You, however, have the whole life ahead of you, so don’t waste it like I did.” he advised in a soft voice, making me look at him for a few seconds, before sighing, getting up, and picking another book. “We won’t be seeing each other again, will we? Well, if that’s the case, take this. It’s a thanks for being nice to me today...But promise me you will take your time reading it, unlike now. Rest, relax, drink a hot cup of tea, and read each page carefully. Enjoy it, live it, feel it. Can you promise me that?” I asked, handing him the book. “The Hobbit, huh? Pretty cover, intriguing summary on the back...Fine, Y/N. I can’t 100% promise you, but I will try. Are you really willing to part with this one? It seems special for you.” he asked, more serious this time. “...Maybe sometimes the stupid ideas that your heart gives you are better than the rational ones from your brain. Now go sleep, I want to read.” I looked away from him, opening my book and pretending to read, away from him.

Five minutes passed, then ten, and fifteen, all of them in a deadly silence, almost awkward, until a chuckle split the atmosphere, making me turn around, looking at the man with a confused look.

“Usually, when people read, they turn the page after five minutes. What’s on your mind?” he asked, taking a strand of my hair and loosely twirling it with his finger. “..Well...You’re a stranger. And...We’ve only talked for a few hours. I know it makes no sense to ask this of you, but...I won’t be seeing you tomorrow anyway, so...Uhm...Do you think...I'm...Cold and mean...And unapproachable?” I mutter, looking away from him. “Not at all. I find you very endearing. The quiet ones are always the ones who have the best surprises once you get to know them. People deal with problems differently, it just takes the right person to want to understand you.” he kissed the strand of hair, making me bite my lip and turn off the lap light so my possibly pink cheeks won’t be noticeable. “Great. Thanks for the info. Now...How about you earn the money you got paid? You can do that by holding me and playing with my hair until I fall asleep.” I try to keep my voice from wavering. “You don’t have to put that pretext as a front, I would do that even if I wasn’t paid.” he chuckled lightly, holding me close to his chest, his fingers masterfully soothing my senses as he caressed by hair. “...Thanks.” I muttered, hiding my flustered face in his chest. “I have insomnia and general sleeping problems, including sleep paralysis and nightmares...And the only thing that used to be able to put me to sleep without waking up in the middle of the night would be mum holding me and playing with my hair until I fell asleep.” I confessed, my voice becoming softer and more emotional. “Thank you for trusting me with this precious memory, Y/N. It’s going to be okay. Now close your eyes...Sweet dreams, Y/N.” his peaceful, velvety voice was the last thing I heard before falling into a restful and calm sleep, for the first time in ages.

When morning came and I woke up, the bed was empty on the side that Worick was and I almost feared I imagined the whole thing...Until I noticed a piece of paper on the pillow where he slept.

“You’re a beautiful person, don’t let the darkness take over you. I hope to hear from you again, in the future, under better circumstances. ~ Worick”

To that, a phone number was written, and the first thing that came into my mind was to get that it tattooed on my body so I won’t lose it.  Of course, that will never happen, so I’ll settle for writing it everywhere I can.

For some reason, I wanted to make him proud, and I still had no idea why, so I only called him once a year, on my birthday, and on that day, we would chat on the phone all night, in memory of that night.  Finally leaving Ergastulum to go to University and get a better life for myself was something revolutionary for me, but after over 6 years, I managed to do just that. However, there was something that never left my brain, and that was the platinum haired man that completely changed the way I viewed life and how to approach it.

And I returned to Ergastulum after almost a decade.

I was dressed in a cute dress, and this time, unlike last time, a confident smile was on my face. Even though it’s fake, I adopted the “Fake it till you make it” motto, and nobody has to know about my problems.

I vibe.

Asking around for Worick, I find out he works as the Benriya with another man called Nicolas, who’s a tag, and even better, I got his address, so I knew just where to go.

As I entered the shabby apartment that was, for some reason, unlocked, I see a meek looking woman sitting on the couch, looking down.

“Did Worick get a girlfriend?” I leaned on the wall, a playful smirk on my face. “Wh-What?! G-Girlfriend?! W-Wait, who are you?!” she shot up to her feet, looking at me with big, blue doe eyes, frightened, might I say. “You’re adorable. What’s your name? And can I ask where Worick is? I’ve been told this is where he lives.” I played with a strand of my hair, trying not to intimidate the girl...Too much. “U-Uhm...He...He’s in his room...Who are you, miss?” she asked, trying to get some courage. “A friend, I’d like to think. From about ten years ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” I was ready to go look for him, only for a door to open, and the man in cause to appear, wearing only black boxers, and stretching...He obviously just woke up. “Ally? What’s all the noise?” he yawned loudly, rubbing his eyes. “Do you have a cute nickname for me too, Worick?” I smirked at him, as he widened his single eye, his jaw dropping in shock. “Y/N...?” he muttered my name, making me grin widely. “Glad you remember me. It has been quite a while since we’ve seen each other...And you age like fine wine, I’m telling you...You’re a sight for sore eyes.” he chuckled softly, only for him to come and pick me up, spinning a bit, before putting me down, cupping my face and kissing my forehead, leaving me a surprised and flustered mess. “And look at you! Can you get prettier than this? I told ya, you have a beautiful smile!” he grinned childishly, pinching my cheeks, making me yelp in pain and slap his hands away. “Jerk! That hurts! Ahem...Anyway, dear Gigolo, how are you? I heard some stuff about you working with someone named Nicolas...But I doubt her name is Nicolas.” I chuckled, pushing him softly away. “Oh, yes! Y/N, this is Alex, our new friend. You can say she’s kinda...Our secretary? I guess? Anyway, come over, we have a lot to catch up on!” he guided me to his bedroom that was, unsurprisingly, messy. “Wonderful and clean, just as expected. Have you ever thought of opening the window?” I teased him, plopping on his bed that was unexpectedly soft. “You, lazy little vixen...Here. I bought it years ago, after finishing the book you gave me, and I wanted to find out more. Now, I’m giving it to you. Are we even?” he smirked, handing me a copy of Fellowship of the Ring book. “We’d be even if I’d spend the night over as well. And if you gave me drinks and pizza. Basically a date. That will do.” I told him, looking dearly at the book I got gifted, although I already read it before. “My God, since when are you so bold?” he asked, getting on the bed, resting his chin on my knees, looking at me like a happy puppy. “Did you miss me, Worick? I hope you did, otherwise that little piece of paper you left would be incredibly disappointing and misleading.” I pointed out, booping his nose. “I’ve been thinking about you since then. By the looks of it, so did you. Are you sure you want a date with someone like me? You are beautiful, you are brilliant, your attitude in endearing as hell...And I’m still a Gigolo and my life is here, in Ergastulum. Don’t regret it later on.” he asked with a more serious tone, only for me to scoff and pull on his hair playfully. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Besides...Unlike you, I don’t need to be paid to spend quality time with you, doing nothing but chilling and chatting.” I teased him, making him laugh, as he plopped next to me, poking my cheek. “Great, problem solved! You’ve got yourself a parasite latching on you. Good luck getting rid of him now.” he grinned cheekily, only for me to cup his face and pull him into a kiss. “Why would I wanna get rid of a parasite this cute? Now shut up and hold me, it’s been ten years and I’m touch starved.” I grinned, nuzzling in the crook of his neck. “Damn, how I missed you.” he held me tightly to his chest, occasionally peppering my face with kisses.

It was definitely worth coming back to this God Forsaken place, even if it is for only one person. There’s place for everyone in this world, and in others’ hearts, and I found my place, in Worick’s warm arms, where I feel safest and most loved.

[hoodwinkd1]

the stars that shine Ch 2

Ch 1 here.

Chapter 2: woke up to find that summer gone

Evangeline sat at the dark cherry desk in her bedroom, staring down at the piece of parchment which seemed to be staring right back at her. She had picked up a pen almost half an hour ago and had successfully written one line.

Dear Lys,

“Damn this!” Tossing the pen to the side, she stood and began pacing around the bed. Normally, her letters back to Caraverre were pages and pages of stories, filled with every minute detail and every silly joke that Lysandra and Aedion might enjoy. Tonight, she could barely get her thoughts in order enough to discuss what she’d eaten for dinner two hours ago.

Evangeline knew exactly who to blame for this conundrum. Hollin Havilliard.

Her first two weeks in Rifthold were amazing. Ever the social butterfly and lacking peer friendships back in Terrasen, Evangeline absolutely loved getting to know the other students in her lessons.

“You should come shopping with us next week,” Regina suggested, her smile genuine. As the third eldest daughter of the Callot family, the largest noble support of Adarlan’s fashion industry, Regina would certainly have good taste. “Anya and I are looking for springtime outfits.”

The other girl had jumped in then. “How long will you be staying? My parents always plan a trip to the country house right after the Spring Solstice and I can bring a few friends.”

So yes, Evangeline had no problem making friends. She was downright delightful and ready to try anything, go on any adventure.

Her lessons were equally wonderful. Part of the reason she came to Rifthold was to expand her education, filling in gaps that Darrow had no expertise in, and she enjoyed the challenge immensely.

Point being, she should have plenty to write home about. The shopping trip, the mathematics concept she finally mastered, even the amazing duck stew she tried two nights ago.

Unfortunately, the fond memory of her duck stew faded when she remembered what had immediately followed.

Dear Lys,

I had the most awkward night of my life. I’m relatively confident I’ve made my first enemy and I may never go back to the ballet after this traumatizing experience.

No, she couldn’t possibly send that. Aedion would charge into the palace and demand revenge at the mere thought of anyone disliking Evangeline, if he didn’t laugh himself to death trying to imagine the concept first.

Her popularity aside, she was still in disbelief. Hollin had approached her first, offering to escort her to the royal box at the Rifthold Theater for a travelling dance troupe that evening. Evangeline accepted (delightfully and more than ready for an adventure). She even dug through her closet for the stunning cerulean gown Aelin had gifted for her fourteenth birthday.

And then the prince proceeded to ignore her. All night.

“Who goes two entire hours without speaking one word?” Evangeline grumbled, moving towards her closet to grab a nightgown. The letter could wait until tomorrow. “Why bother inviting me in the first place?”

Whatever. She would be just fine with her new friends, who’s families also owned boxes at the theater.

----

“It’s been two days.” Dorian dropped into the chair next to Hollin. “Two whole days, and I haven’t heard a word from either of you. Quite rude, if you ask me, considering it was my idea to take her to the ballet.”

Hollin kept his eyes on the book in front of him. “Some people think it’s rude to speak in a library. And yet, here we are.”

The king sighed, as if his little brother’s social life was as draining as running a nation. “At least tell me if you enjoyed yourself. Or if you think Eva enjoyed herself.”

“The dancers were talented.” Hollin turned a page. “I can’t speak for someone else’s opinion.”

Dorian huffed. “I meant, did you enjoy spending time with her?”

Hollin shut the book with a bit more force than needed. “Do you have nothing better to do than force me to go on dates with your friends’ wards? I’m working on something here.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a date!” Dorian protested. “Just...Evangeline is so delightful. And friendly. I thought she could, you know, be a friend?” His words trailed off at the end.

He heard the unspoken words. Hollin was not delightful and not friendly. Dorian probably hoped this picture-perfect girl could change him, mold him into a better prince.

“She has friends. And I have work to do.” He looked pointedly at the book strewn across his lap.

Dorian, finally, took the hint. “Fine. Enjoy your suspicious research.” He stood up, fixing his tunic. “I expect to see you at the merchant’s council dinner tomorrow night.”

Hollin waved him off. “See you then.” He’d been searching for some excuse to get out of that event, some way to avoid all the grouchy, greedy men that tried to grab the king’s attention.

Maybe if he fell off a horse, he could avoid politics for a few days.

----

The two months passed quite quickly. Evangeline was expected home in time for Aedion’s birthday celebration, so she took the last day in Rifthold to search for a gift. He might grumble about her spending money on him, letting his annoyance over aging take over his usual good mood, but Eva knew he would secretly cherish something special.

Anya had offered to join her, commandeering her family’s carriage for the trip. The two of them, along with Regina, had become inseparable during Evangeline’s stay.

She had never had friendships that were entirely her own before, outside of her family’s vast and unyielding legacy. Spending the day shopping tasted like freedom and youth.

“Where are we heading first?” Anya asked, shifting her long skirt to make room for Evangeline to sit on the bench next to her. “What does one even buy for the most infamous General in the world?”

So maybe she never could fully escape that legacy. Evangeline chose to ignore the honorific. “Aedion? He can be quite the sentimental type. I was imagining some sort of calendar he could use; one that I’d add drawings and photos and secret notes to. Something useful, but still personalized.”

“Oh, thank the Gods. I was terrified you would drag me to some boring weapons shop.” Anya fanned herself in mock horror. “Minsky’s has the best stationery.”

Once they arrived, Evangeline lost herself in the rows of parchment. She adored the smell of the shop, somewhere between a library and perfumery, thanks to the variety of candles that lined the walls.

She wandered for a while, enjoying the feel of books, journals, scrolls, and other trinkets underneath her fingertips. Anya struck up a conversation with Minsky, the elderly owner who apparently had very strong opinions about what time of day one should light lavender candles.

Evangeline stopped in front of the rack she’d been looking for, eyeing the different color choices. Each calendar looked sturdy and durable, perfect for Aedion’s regular travels, but only a few had carrier cases. She selected the emerald one, to match Lysandra’s eyes.

“Oh that’s lovely!” Anya beamed as Evangeline joined them at the counter. “Very practical.”

Minksy nodded solemnly as they checked the price. “Smart child, finding a way to stay organized.”

“It’s actually a gift,” Evangeline corrected. “Would you have any wrapping supplies?”

They pulled out a few choices of paper, and the girls left the shop with the package securely tucked under Evangeline’s arm.

Anya opened the door of the carriage to let her enter first. “Do we have any other errands - Gods!” Her question was cut off with a curse. “Galen, you scared the life out of me.”

Evangeline found herself face first with Anya’s older brother. He shot her an apologetic look.

“I spotted the carriage and didn’t fancy a walk back to the house,” he explained, musing at his dark locks with one hand. “Any change you two lovely ladies want to go out for lunch?”

“You are unbelievably annoying,” Anya sighed. She moved to sit next to him, glancing at Evangeline. “What do you think? One last meal before you go?”

Galen turned to face her as well. “Leaving so soon?”

Evangeline hadn’t had many interactions with the older boy. Galen had danced with her at one of their parents’ parties, and had teased her a couple times when she joined them for dinner. But all of a sudden, Evangeline found herself wishing for some more time in Rifthold for an entirely new reason.

“I have to return to Caraverre tomorrow,” she informed him. “It’s my....it’s Aedion’s birthday.” Explaining their relationship was difficult enough, and easily avoided since everyone knew exactly who he was.

“Pity,” Galen replied. “But that just means I have to treat you to the best sandwiches Rifthold has to offer before you go.”

Anya groaned. “He always drags us to this tiny little place, when there are plenty of nice restaurants around.”

“A tiny little place sounds perfect,” Evangeline reassured. The carriage jolted forward, carrying them away from the main streets.

An hour later, she wasn’t lying in the slightest when she praised her meal. The sandwiches were really quite good. And the twinkle in Galen’s eyes when she stole one of his chips was even better.

“Oh goodness,” Anya interrupted as they stepped outside into the twilight hour. “I left my pouch at the table. Be right back.” She strode back into the restaurant, leaving Galen and Evangeline alone by the doorway.

Galen leaned against the stone. “Do you have plans to return to Adarlan?”

“Not in the next half-year,” Evangeline admitted. Her thumb rubbed the edge of her pointer finger, a nervous tick despite her calm tone. Was there meaning behind his question? “I’m due to spend two months with one of my mentors in Arran after some time at home.”

“Pity.” He offered her a light smile. She prayed to the former Gods to keep her face from turning pink. “Next time you come around, I’ll have to move faster. Ask you on a date at the beginning of your stay, instead of the end.”

Evangeline couldn’t hold back a wide grin. “Yes, I suppose you will.”

---

Hollin threw himself onto his bed, head spinning a bit from the wine he snuck during dinner. Evangeline was leaving tomorrow, a fact that wouldn’t affect his life much since Dorian had stopped forcing a friendship between them.

Maybe the wine was a mistake. The prince didn’t like alcohol much, knew he was far too young to start drinking, but insomnia had plagued him for weeks now. Hollin tried so many home remedies, from herbal teas to meditation, before attempting to drink himself to sleep that night.

It wasn’t working.

He still couldn’t force his mind to relax. Ideas for new experiments and inventions swirled around, mixed with memories of his most recent failures that stabbed him with self-doubt. Then came the childhood memories, the horror of being raised by the devil without noticing and the shame of past cruelties keeping him far from relaxation.

Hollin groaned into his pillow. He wanted someone to talk to. It was such a simple solution, one that most people would find easy. Dorian had even hired a specialist, a healer who worked with minds as well as bodies, for palace staff who needed help after a traumatizing war. Hollin had paced by their office more times than he could count, never entering.

Somehow, he fell asleep before sunrise. A sharp knock at the door yanked him out of restless dreams.

“Hollin?” He recognized Herina’s voice, one of his personal servants who was years past using formalities. Changing a baby's diaper gave one that privilege. “I have your schedule for the day.”

Hollin stood up, blindly feeling for the robe hanging next to his dresser. “Come in, thank you.”

She pushed the door open, pulling a cart of food behind her. “I didn’t see you eat nearly enough at dinner last night, certainly not enough to be stealing drinks of wine like you did.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but shut it quickly. “I - thank you,” he said again, too tired to form a better sentence.

Herina left the cart by the entrance and walked further into the chamber. “You have a couple lessons scheduled, one before lunch and one in the evening. Light day.”

“Not too terrible.” Hollin took the parchment from her. “Herina..” He trailed off.

“Yes?”

“Could you - do you know how to add things to my schedule?” he asked.

She nodded. “Of course. What grabbed your interest?”

He pushed past his discomfort at the idea. If he didn’t sleep well after, that would be the end of it. “Training. Physical, that is. I’d like to learn how to fight.”

Herina eyed him warily, no doubt taking in the lanky and awkward features that haunted most fourteen year old boys. “You know the king would never expect you to fight. He knows that isn’t where your interests lie.”

“I know.” Gods, he was blushing now. “It’s for myself, just a new hobby.”

Thankfully she moved on. “Well, alright then. Don’t be late today.”

With a final meaningful look at the breakfast, she left. Hollin thought about ignoring the food and falling immediately back to sleep, but his stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. He would need the calories if he planned to actually follow through with his new training idea.

If getting knocked on his ass for two hours a day didn’t help him fall asleep, then nothing would,

[dear--charlie]

Dear Charlie,

TW // Mention of suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, self harm, alcohol, drug use, eating disorder

First of all I am so sorry this has to be the first letter of the year, I wanted this year to have a great start, I really wanted this letter to be about how excited I am/was about my future and all the things I´ve learned about life and myself for these past months but if I don’t get this out of my head I will just feel worse.

You see I was genuinely feeling better, I was reading, I cut my hair as I always wanted and also making peace with my body and trying to eat healthy without skipping any of my meals. I know this doesn’t seem like a lot but for me it’s the happiest I’ve ever been in years. I guess I could say 2020 wasn’t that bad for me although it’s just because 2019 was one of the worst years. In fact, I wrote you a letter about all the things that happened to me that year, that has to be here somewhere among all these letters, and long story short I relapsed on self harm, I wasn’t eating, I had a lot of suicidal thoughts and it was just horrible.

The worst part of all was a day after Christmas that I was having dinner with my family, they started talking about something I don’t remember and somehow they end up talking about myself and how I never tell them about my problems and they started asking questions and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I was thinking of which part of my fucked up life to talk about, would it be the suicidal thoughts? or the way my classmates fucked up my reputation because I didn’t like back one of those boys? or maybe about all the abusive relationships I’ve had with boys who treat me like shit and make me feel so little? or perhaps about how I felt in love with a girl in high school and since then I realized I’m bisexual? or what about the eating disorder I developed at 13?

I felt like I was gonna explode if I didn’t tell them the truth so I chose the suicidal thoughts and I thought maybe it had to happen so I can finally receive the help that I needed.  I have never cried like that day, my throat hurt like the words were burning me, I couldn’t breath, my heart was racing and at the same time I felt a bit of liberation.

My parents cried too, they said some things I don’t remember anymore. I guess the only thing I remember now it’s they said: “don’t worry, we’re gonna get you help.” And for once I trusted them and waited but the help never came. To this day they act as if it has never happened, I didn’t tell anybody about that, not even my closest friends, but I keep thinking about that day. I can’t look into my father’s eyes without thinking he’s pity about me, or being alone with my mother because I’m afraid she talks about it and said I’m just faking it or that it’s just because of hormones, I can’t even sit in the place at the table that used to be mine since I was a kid, I can’t have a single moment of joy with my siblings because I always think I’m supposed to take care of them, not them taking care of me. I think I failed to both of them and they’re who I love most in this world.

I know it’s pathetic I can’t stop reliving that terrific day but I’m just mad as fuck with myself and my parents, and everyone around me. Charlie, I simply don’t understand how they can tell me they love me to my face but not make a single effort to help me, does that mean I am as alone as I think? Why did I think it was a good idea to talk with them about it?

My dear friend I’m so sorry about writing all this shit to you but I’ve got more to say. On January 6th of this new year my uncle tried to kill himself. He’s been a bad person almost all his life but recently life’s been treating him like shit, his wife left him (it wasn’t a good relationship both of them are shitty people but i bet that hurt him), he can’t find a job, he’s been consuming lots of alcohol and told his siblings he used to do cocaine, he moved in with my grandpa but grandpa got tired of his shit and asked him to leave, he got arrested and a lot of other stuff.

I’m not saying I’ve got it worse than him or that he got it worse than me because at the end of the day we both have shitty lives and our problems affect us in a different way, neither of us deserve having these voices inside our heads. What I’m saying is this kinda stuff happens to everyone, it happened to me, a 21-year-old person who is about to graduate from uni and seems to have their life together and it also happened to him, a 40-something-years-old man who maybe shows more signs of it. We both need help, we both are in danger.

The only difference it’s he actually tried to end it and I’ve never crossed that line because I know if I do it nothing is going to be the same and I had think a lot about the consequences, and also as some girl said, although suicide is seen as cowardice it takes a lot of courage to just try it and I don’t have it. But Charlie does that mean I am not suffering? Or that I am okay? Because I don’t feel like that at all.

As I said earlier in this letter mom and dad never helped me, I’ve been learning to help myself since June, because on my birthday (July) I always feel sad but I didn’t want to feel that way last year so I tried really hard, and it almost worked. The day of my birthday my uncle got arrested and mom went running to solve his problems and left me with my siblings. I understood it because she had to be there but it still hurt.

This time I am really trying to take care of myself because I finally realized I cannot count on them. I have to take care of myself, otherwise I’ll always be fucked up. I wanna be myself without worrying about my weight, how I look, the way I laugh, if I have friends, if I love women or men, if I am even a woman.I want to be enough for me. I want to just stop giving a fuck about what people think of me. I want to do all the things I once dreamt about. I want to dress however the fuck I want to dress. I want to sing, dance and write without being afraid I don’t have the talent. I want to love myself. I want to be myself. But Charlie, why do I feel so mad at my parents and my uncle?

After January 6th my mom constantly talks to him and asks him how he is feeling and you know what? She’s even searching for a psychiatrist and a job so he doesn’t try it again. Am I being a shitty person Charlie? I hate feeling this way, I shouldn’t be jealous of my mom’s brother but I am. What did I do wrong? Why didn’t they help me? Is it the fact that I just think about it but I didn’t try to really do it? Do I have to show them the scars that I gave myself on my wrists,arms, ankles and hands? Do I have to tell them about the times I drank brandy all alone until I felt numb? Do I have to talk about the parties where I drank vodka like water just to feel free and stop thinking? What do I have to do to get that promised help?

I am just so tired and angry with them seeing me as a joke, but I guess it’s my fault for trust them with something this big. I shouldn’t have told them in the first place. Why did I think the man who so many times said I am a drama queen would help me? Why did I think the woman who always reminds me of my defects would help me? And I’m so mad at myself for giving a fuck about what they think of me.They didn’t give a fuck about me at 13 when my life started falling apart and they will not care for me now.

I’m so fucking sorry I write all of this shit in the first letter of the year, I really wanted it to be special. I promise you, my dear Charlie I will get better. I will not let this fucked up head of mine listen to that shit anymore. I must save myself.

All the love as always,

Dorian.

[sluttyten]

For You

pairing: jaehyun x female reader

words: 9,533

summary: a fake dating au in which you’re both tired of friends and family pitying you for being single on Valentine’s Day 

For Jaehyun, there were two days that he believed you shouldn’t be single on: Valentine’s Day and a birthday. 

For Jaehyun, it just so happened that those two celebrations fell on the same day. And he was miserably single.

He couldn’t let this year pass by as the last few had. Single and pitied by family and friends when they asked what his big plans were and his only answer was staying home with some ramen and a movie marathon of decidedly not-Valentine’s movies.

It’s not that he didn’t have friends to go celebrate his birthday with, he had plenty of friends. Johnny, Taeyong, Doyoung, Sicheng, and all of them were in happy relationships and Jaehyun wasn’t going to be the guy to piss their partners off just so he wasn’t alone.

Humiliatingly, the worst part this year was the call he received the morning of his birthday from his mother.

“You’re not going to be alone again, Jae?” She sighed into the phone. He remained silent, already not liking that tone in her voice. “You’re such a catch, and I know, most mother’s say that about their sons, but it’s true.”

Jaehyun takes a look at himself in the reflection of the mirror that hangs on the back of his apartment’s door. It’s a tiny space, barely even qualifying as an apartment. He was standing at the hotplate on his kitchen counter, dressed only in a pair of boxers and socks (neither of which was actually clean), and he knew he had a face many women and men would swoon over, but he hadn’t had a steady relationship in four years.

His mother’s voice buzzes in his ear, “You could go to one of those speed dating Valentine’s parties. Meet a sweet girl, maybe.”

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything because that’s not going to happen. He’ll just stay in tonight and it’ll be fine. Maybe he’ll watch some porn, light a candle, make the mood all romantic, make it a happy birthday present to himself. He’ll be fine.

“Are you still there? Hello?”

“Yeah, Mom. I’m here.” He balances his phone between his shoulder and his cheek and tries carrying his breakfast over to the small couch crammed along the wall a few feet from his bed.

“Well you hadn’t said anything in a while and I know reception is spotty. Now, what was I saying?” She dives right back into her stories, and Jaehyun tunes out again, turning on his laptop and pulling up a film he’s been wanting to watch on Netflix.

He focuses on eating and keeps the volume on his laptop low enough that his mom can’t hear it through the phone and accuse him of not paying attention (which he’s not, not until she says a few words that catch his attention like a hook to the gut).

“.... your father and I could come visit!”

Jaehyun swallows too quickly and almost chokes, spitting out the word, “What?”

“I said, if you’re just going to be alone, Jaehyun, your father and I could come visit to celebrate your birthday with you!”

It’s not that he doesn’t love his parents. He does. He’s a mama’s boy. But he just saw them last month. And his tiny, cramped apartment is filthy, covered in a layer of dirty laundry that sends Taeyong into hysterics any time he stops by. Plus, there was Jaehyun’s whole plan of the romantic evening to himself. And their pity is something he doesn’t need.

He casts around for an excuse — anything at all — to keep his parents from making the two hour drive to the city for a visit, and that’s how Jaehyun blurts out the first coherent idea that appears in his mind.

“No, you can’t come visit tonight. I, uh, I do have plans.” He tries to wipe up the mess he made when he almost choked. “I’ve been seeing someone. We’re going out tonight for dinner.”

The sounds of his mother’s happiness is almost lost in the pounding of his heart and his conscience screaming at him for that ridiculous lie.

“Oh, that’s great!” Jaehyun hears her calling to his father, shouting the lie to him loud enough that their neighbors can probably hear too, and Jaehyun cringes. “Jae, do you think we could meet her this weekend? We really want to come celebrate your birthday with you, but if you’re busy tonight, we can come in on Saturday. Have lunch and meet your girlfriend.”

Jaehyun bites his lip and reluctantly makes a noise of consent.

For the next fifteen minutes his mother rattles on about plans for Saturday, occasionally slipping in questions about Jaehyun’s relationship, to which he supplies generic answers or tells her that she’ll see on Saturday.

After those fifteen minutes, Jaehyun hears his dad’s voice through the speaker, calling for Jae’s mother.

“I guess I’d better go. We’ll see you Saturday!”

The second the call ends, Jaehyun throws his phone across the room. It bounces on his bed and then slides onto the floor, but Jaehyun doesn’t care about that. He has forty-eight hours to find someone willing to pretend to be in a relationship with him and meet his parents. How difficult could it be?

“Fuck. What have I done.”

Your first mistake was agreeing to brunch with a few of your friends on Valentine’s Day. The second mistake was informing them that you wouldn’t be able to make it to Peter and Hyerim’s party that night. Your third mistake and the final nail in your coffin was not having a ready-made excuse for why you couldn’t go to the party.

You couldn’t give the usual “I don’t feel well” since you’re sitting there at brunch in perfect (or near enough to perfect) health. A family emergency was a bit difficult to fake when one of your cousins was sitting not two feet away from you, and would immediately without hesitation or guilt inform everyone that you are lying.

Therefore, before you can come up with a valid excuse that will work for the table of your friends, someone else speaks up for you.

“It’s because you’re not dating anyone, right? And the invitation did sort of heavily imply that no one come to the party alone.”

You hate the judgemental, pitying faces immediately turned upon you then. Offers of setting you up with a friend of a friend who’s single too, or insistence that you’d be welcome at the party anyway are thrown your way and you turn them all down with what is, to you, a surprisingly stupid fourth mistake that you really just did not see coming. 

“I’m not single. I’m seeing someone. Dating someone.” You pick at the food on your plate, feeling tense in the silence that follows your statement. 

“Who is he? Do we know him?” One friend asks. “Why haven’t you said anything? Do you like him or is this just like a fun thing before you find someone serious after things ended with Niklas?”

This could’ve been the point where you turned things around. You could have told a little white lie on top of that monstrous one you’d just told, fibbed and said something like “it’s nothing too serious, not yet, we didn’t want to really make it official or a big deal until we have a better idea of where this is going.” 

Things could have ended there. Pretend like you have other plans with your imaginary boyfriend, tell another white lie that you’ll try to drop in for a few minutes at the party with your new guy, but then don’t show and in a week or two tell everyone that things ended with that guy. 

But you don’t do any of that. Because why tell a few little white lies when you can just pile on the bullshit. 

“You don’t know him. He’s nice. He’s really handsome too and smart.” You make eye contact and force a bit of an embarrassed look to help sell the lie. “He’s really great. We had other plans tonight, but if you all really want to meet him, then maybe I will come to the party tonight and he and I can push our plans back to another night.”

And the moment they all start agreeing that they would just love to meet your new boyfriend, you force a smile onto your face to hide the vortex that just exploded inside you and is currently eating away at your insides.

Sometimes when you’re hiding from reality, the best place to be is a bookstore. The more cluttered, the better. If you can lose yourself in a maze of books and bury yourself so deep inside that you can’t see the sun, thereby losing all sense of time and space, things start to seem not so crazy and panic-inducing. 

So that’s why Jaehyun is standing in the aisle of this dim, somewhat mildewy smelling bookstore. 

The books are piled high and he left his problems somewhere in the self-help section, and now he’s wandered into what appears to be the “Ancient Tomes discovered in dark wet dungeons” section because there’s not a book on these bookshelves that doesn’t look like if he touched it it would just crumble to pieces. 

Unknown to Jaehyun, you’ve found yourself in the same bookstore with a very similar problem to the one that drove him into that bookstore, and you wind a similar path as the one he takes through the maze of shelves, both of you trying to outrun and also solve the problems you’ve created. 

Eventually, the pathways of books leads you back to the front of the bookstore, bringing you out right beside a table display of brown rectangles that are scribbled on. A sign over it all says: For You. It takes you a moment to realize that these are books, the covers and titles hidden away under the brown paper, and a very basic description written on the front. 

You scan the table curiously and when you see one book with a surprisingly applicable to your life summary, you reach for it. 

It’s not everyday that you see something declaring “need to dig your way out of a lie? do you need to find a date before your lie is discovered?” So of course you reach for it wondering how you could have possibly happened upon the exact book you need out of all of the books in this store. 

Your fingers have just barely grazed the paper when the book is snatched away by someone standing behind you. 

“Hey! I need that book!” You soon around, ready to argue with whoever’s just taken it. 

“I’m sure I need this more than you do,” The most handsome man you’ve ever seen stands less than three inches from you, holding the book that’s possibly going to save your life (your social life, that is). “This book is exactly what I need right now. So unless you’ve lied to your mother about having a Valentine’s date with your non-existent girlfriend just so she won’t come visit, but then she insists that you and your girlfriend come meet her and your father on Saturday when you, in fact, have no girlfriend at all, I think I need this more than you.”

All his handsomeness won’t save him. You’re not going to let the book go that easily, not when it might hold the answers you’re looking for. You fold your arms over your chest and try to give this attractive guy your most intimidating look. 

“Listen, buddy.” The guy has the audacity to smirk at your tone of voice, but you ignore that and continue. “I didn’t lie to my mom, but I did lie to all of my friends, so if you could just hand me that book, that would be great. A group of friends outweighs one mom any day.” You hold out your hand and gesture for him to put the book in your palm. 

“I don’t think so.” He turns to walk away from you, so you grab his arm. 

“Please.” You beg, tugging slightly on his arm. “I lied and told them that I had this great boyfriend as an excuse for why I couldn’t go to this stupid couple’s party a friend of ours is throwing. Like obviously, I wasn’t going to go because I’m single, but when that was pointed out I just couldn’t help the lie that I wasn’t single and I’ve got this hot boyfriend and then I promised we’ll be at the party tonight, and if I don’t show up then I’m going to just, like, die. They’ll all know I was lying.”

The book-stealer stares at you for a long moment, and just at the point where it’s almost grown uncomfortable, he clears his throat and holds the book out to you. 

You reach for it, but he pulls it out of your reach and says, “I have a proposition for you. Just listen.”

You sigh, but you do listen. 

“My names Jung Jaehyun. I’m 22 years old today, I’m an Aquarius. I like books, I’m majoring in elementary education, I work part-time at a daycare.” He holds his hand out to you. “And if I promise to be your pretend boyfriend to your party tonight, will you swear to be my fake girlfriend and come meet my parents on Saturday?”

He could be a murderer. That’s what makes you hesitate. 

A guy like that, with a face so beautiful, and a smile that’s actually quite charming, he should definitely be in a relationship or at least have a fuckbuddy he could call up and ask this favor of. So if he doesn’t have either of those, then what’s up with him?

“I’m not a serial killer or anything, if that’s what that look on your face means. I swear,” Jaehyun holds up a hand. “I’m just a guy looking for a girl to help me lie to my parents. And you’re just a girl looking for a guy to help you lie to your friends, right?” 

You nod slowly. 

“So do we have a deal? I help you tonight, and you help me on Saturday?” Jaehyun holds his hand out to you again for you to shake. “And if you back out on your end of the promise, I’ll find your friends and tell them all that I’m an escort you hired to lie to them, kinda like Pretty Woman.”

You think that’s fair. 

“And just to be clear,” You reach forward and put your hand in his. “You’re the pretty woman, right?”

Jaehyun grins, “Of course I am.” 

And you shake on it, making it a binding deal thanks to the magic of the book shop.

Jaehyun was actually really nice although a bit messy, you realized as you stopped by his apartment on your way to the party that evening. 

After the bargain made in the book shop, you’d left together, neither one of you purchasing that book, and you’d headed to a cafe so Jaehyun could learn enough about you that your friends might buy that you’d been dating for a little while. He told you about himself too. And then you both spent a while laughing as you made up stories together of your past dates and how you met (although that one you kept fairly close to the truth). 

It seems like the hours tick by quickly, and soon it’s almost time for you to be at the party. 

You’re already dressed nice enough for the occasion, but Jaehyun’s sweatshirt and jeans that have seen better days wouldn’t pass the approval of your friends, but he assures you that if you stop by his place on the way to the party he does have something nicer to wear. 

“I’m not coming inside,” You tell him as Jaehyun opens the door of his apartment. “I still don’t fully believe you’re not going to turn out to be a serial killer.” 

You’re teasing, and you know he knows it. 

Jaehyun leaves the door of his apartment open and you lean in, just wanting a quick look around. You tell yourself that it’s just for extra story details in case someone asks about it later, but mostly you’re just curious. 

“I thought you said you weren’t coming in?” Jaehyun asks when he glances over and notices you stepping inside just a little bit. He’s gathering up some clothes from the floor (you really hope his outfit choice for the night isn’t in that pile) and, as you look around, you notice that his apartment is really just a tiny studio apartment. 

It’s a straight shot from the door where you stand to the back of the apartment. Very narrow with a row of storage compartments on the wall to your left and the kitchenette on your right. A door just beyond the skinny refrigerator leads into what you figure is the bathroom, and along the wall that continues from there is a couch. 

And that couch is where Jaehyun piles all of the clothes he quickly gathers up. 

“It’s not much,” He tells you while he runs his hands through his hair and glances around. “Sorry, what time is the party?” 

“We have an hour.” You take another step inside and the door swings shut behind you. Jaehyun nods and moves out of your sight across the room from the couch, and you don’t walk that way, assuming that’s where his bed is, and you don’t want to totally invade your fake boyfriend’s privacy, so instead you stand in the kitchenette and look at the pictures Jaehyun has stuck with magnets onto his fridge. 

It’s a combination of photographs and hand-drawn art. There’s family pictures of Jaehyun with a man and a woman that can only be his parents. A few of him with friends, some Polaroids that are scribbled on with marker to add extra details to his friends faces. The hand-drawn artwork you expect is from the kids at the daycare he was telling you about. 

You’re so busy looking at the fridge art that you don’t notice Jaehyun until he clears his throat beside you. 

“How do I look? Will I pass your friends’ inspections?” He takes a step back and holds out his arms, spinning around for you to get the whole effect. 

He wears a clean white button down shirt, a tie, and a pair of dark wash fitted jeans that are truly well-fitted for him. You pull your eyes away from his legs and catch his smile. 

“You’ll be fine probably.” Definitely more than fine. You’ll be lucky if none of your friends try and steal him away. “Are you ready?”

The party is at a bar ingeniously named Brewman’s Place. When you step inside, you’re not surprised that Peter and Hyerim would choose it for their party. The entire bar is dark, shiny wood. Thin strings of lights hang and weave through the wooden beams overhead. Brewman’s Place is definitely one of the nicer, cleaner bars you’ve ever been to in this city. 

“You came!” Comes a chorus of voices when the door closes behind you. You sweep your coat off and drape it over a nearby chair, and walk toward the cluster of your friends, most of them were at brunch this morning. And you’re most pleased to notice that the girl who’d (correctly) assumed earlier that you were single is there, although at the moment her face holds a smug expression that’s trying not to be too smug. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She asks while sipping her wine. “Could he not make it?”

Her tone heavily implies that she fully believes that you’ve made everything up, that you really showed up at this party without a date, and that you’re going to lie to their faces again. And she’s partially right, you are going to lie to them again, but you didn’t come to this party alone. 

“Oh no, he’s here. Jaehyun just had to take a call. He’ll be in in a minute.” You smile. “I can’t wait for you all to meet him.”

With your back to the door, you don’t see the door open, but you know the moment it does because you see it in the faces of your friends, their expressions shifting as they first lay eyes on Jaehyun. 

“Excuse me, this is a private party.” 

Jaehyun smiles and doesn’t break his stride as he walks right up to you, slides his arm around your waist and kisses your cheek. “Sorry, that was Mom, checking to make sure that we’re spending my birthday right.” 

His mother’s call couldn’t have come at a better time. You appreciated the drama of his delayed entrance and the effect it had had on your friends. 

“Everyone, this is Jaehyun, my boyfriend. Jaehyun, this is everyone.” You smile brightly, and everyone is looking at Jaehyun. 

Sure he’s probably not actually like the absolute hottest man on the planet, but he is definitely the most attractive man you have ever seen in front of your eyes. The way they all look at him, you know it’s not just you looking at him that way. 

“So, it’s your birthday?” Peter asks, breaking the silence after a moment. “Happy birthday, man. Sorry, Y/N dragged you to this instead of whatever other plans you had. I’m Peter, by the way.” 

Slowly, actual introductions are made, and it’s no surprise to you how friendly Jaehyun is and how quickly he wins over your friends. Soon he’s laughing with the guys, drinking and talking, and sometimes you’ll catch him watching you when you’re across the room talking to someone else and he’ll smile and wink, causing you to temporarily lose your train of thought. 

And it’s all great. It’s not super Valentines-y. Sure, there are several Couple games that are played which you and Jaehyun are surprisingly good at, and the drinks that the brewman behind Brewman’s Place serves all night are Valentine’s themed, plus the cake that Hyerim and Peter cut later in the night is shaped like a heart. 

Someone finds a little candle and sticks it in a slice of the cake and you hand it to Jaehyun while everyone sings “Happy Birthday” to him and then Peter and the guys buy his drinks for the rest of the night. 

By the time the party’s ending, you’re by Jaehyun’s side again, sitting at the bar and picking at a slice of cake while Jaehyun drinks a glass of water. 

His foot taps against your ankle to the beat of the music that’s playing, that a few of Peter and Hyerim’s drunk guests are still attempting to dance to several feet away. Jaehyun watches them, watches the way that one of your friends is sitting in her boyfriend’s lap, making out with him without a care in the world. 

“You know,” Jaehyun leans in a little bit closer. “The reason I lied to my mom in the first place, this is stupid, but I was planning to just stay in tonight. Eaten ramen, watch Netflix, have a sad wank out of loneliness.” His ears and cheeks are colored lightly pink, and you figure that’s more from what he just said than the alcohol. “I just wanted a night in, but really, I’m so glad I ran into you earlier. This was exactly what I needed.”

“A party where a bunch of strangers sang you happy birthday, and a girl made you pretend to be interested in her?” You stab your fork into what’s left of your slice of cake and sit it on the bar. “You deserve a better Valentine’s Birthday than this. You deserve better than the pity party you had planned for yourself too. Like, do you know how handsome you are? You saw the way everyone’s jaws dropped when you walked in, right? You could go out and pick up anyone you wanted probably, but you were just going to stay home and jerk off?” You tut at him. 

Jaehyun smiles at someone behind you, and when you look, you just see Peter giving him a thumbs up. 

“What was that—?” You turn back around, but when your feel something against your lips, you freeze. Jaehyun’s thumb brushes your bottom lip, slowly drawing across that sensitive area. 

“Sorry, you had some frosting.” Jaehyun sucks His thumb into his mouth to clean it off. “And, I really want you to know that I’ve had a really good time tonight. If I’d gone out with my friends, you think I wouldn’t have had a bunch of random strangers singing me happy birthday then too? And you didn’t make me do anything, remember. This was my idea.”

You roll your eyes a little. “Yeah, but—“ 

“And also, I don’t have to pretend to be interested in you. You are interesting. And you’re pretty, smart, passionate, like I thought for a moment earlier you were going to deck me for that book. I think you have a lot of thoughts in here,” Jaehyun taps your forehead. “That you don’t let anyone know, which is a shame. I just find you really interesting, you know.” 

Jaehyun fiddles with his tie, his ears burn brightly, and you smile and laugh a little, unable to help yourself as you lean forward and touch his ears, covering his blush. He smiles, embarrassed, and you spot his dimples, and you just want to touch his face, to feel his skin which looks so smooth and soft. 

As if he can tell what you’re thinking, Jaehyun takes your hand and presses the back of it to his cheek. 

“Closing up now.”

The bartender places another glass of water down on the bar, and you and Jaehyun break apart. 

You reach for the water and gulp half of it down in one go, needing it to cool off just a bit because suddenly you’re feeling very warm and tingly and you swear you can feel the ghost of Jaehyun’s hand around yours pressing the back of it to his cheek. 

You go around quickly and tell Hyerim and Peter goodbye and thank them for the party. 

“Thank you for coming!” Hyerim giggles as she hugs you. “And Jaehyun’s really amazing. He’s so kind and handsome and the way he looks at you,” She sighs. “I think you may have found a great one, Y/N.”

There’s nothing to really say to that. Not when this is a fake relationship, when Hyerim and Peter and all the rest of them will probably never see Jaehyun again after tonight. 

Jaehyun helps you put on your coat and he makes a show of putting his arm around your shoulders as you walk outside, and it feels so nice and warm to be tucked into his side, but a few steps from the Brewman’s Place, you both come to a stop. 

It’s where you part ways. 

Your apartment is to the left. Jaehyun’s is back to the right. 

“So, uh,” Jaehyun rubs the back of his head. “See you Saturday, I guess. It won’t be anything fancy, so don’t worry. And my parents are really great people, so they won’t give you a hard time or anything. I’ll text you where we’re meeting once my parents decide. Bye.”

He starts to turn away and you reach out and grab his sleeve. Jaehyun comes back around to face you so quickly, it’s almost like he was hoping you would stop him. 

“You don’t actually have my number,” You remind him. “That could complicate things a little.”

“Oh, right,” Jaehyun smiles and pulls his phone out of his pocket with fumbling, cold fingers. “Here, you can enter it in.” He holds it out to you, and just as you reach for it, he pulls it out of your reach. 

You let out a puff of laughter that hangs as a thin cloud in the cold air between you and Jaehyun. “Really, you’re doing this again?” You reach for the phone, hopping and sliding a little bit toward him, and Jaehyun reaches out to steady you. 

“I have another proposition. Actually less of a proposition, more of just a question with no strings or anything like that you’d get with a proposition.” You watch as Jaehyun slides his phone back into his pocket. He seems to struggle a bit with his next words, as if he’s not entirely sure what way to say them so they’ll sound right. 

So you put the words into his mouth that you’re hoping were about to come out anyway. 

“Jaehyun, do you maybe want to have sex with me?”

He lets out a nervous jolt of laughter. “Yeah. Yes, that’s what I was going to ask. I mean, do you? Want to have sex with me? I don’t want you to think that you have to or anything like that.”

“I want to.” You step closer and slip your hand into his. “For one, because you’re really, really cute. For another, I just kinda like you and think it could be nice. And also it’s Valentine’s Day, we went on a date, we’re both mature adults, of course our night should end in sex, right? It’s casual.”

“Right,” Jaehyun bites his lip and nods, and the way that his gaze moves down your body sends a warm flush through you.

You grab a taxi back to Jaehyun’s place since it’s closer. You drive past places and people who are still decked out in pinks and reds and confections and hearts. Boxes of chocolates and beautiful flowers sit in illuminated window displays, and a little part of you wishes that you had a Valentine’s Day like that. A classic romantic day with a real relationship. 

But you have Jaehyun, and for right now, that’s nice. 

He holds your hand when you get out of the taxi, his fingers laced through yours as you climb the stairs up to his apartment, and you hope he can’t feel the nervous beating of your heart. 

And not that you know it, but Jaehyun’s holding your hand and hoping that you can’t tell how quickly his heart is beating, he’s hoping you don’t mind that his palms are a little sweaty, hoping you can’t tell that he’s still blushing, and most of all he’s hoping you don’t ask him when the last time is that he’s done this. 

It’s been a while. For both of you. 

Once you’re in his tiny apartment again, the door closed, and Jaehyun’s fingers pulling out of yours so he can take your coat instead, you feel a strange sense of calm wash over you, confidence. 

When he turns back from hanging your coat and his on the rack behind the door, you’re waiting. 

Jaehyun gasps a little when he realizes you’re so close, as your fingers touch his neck and he angles his head as you stretch up a little on your toes to kiss him. 

Jaehyun’s lips are soft and sweet.

But you can still taste traces of alcohol on his breath, taste it as his tongue meets yours. 

The kiss skips straight over the innocence a first kiss might have, diving right into a kiss of passion. You can feel the heat of the kiss raging through your body, your hands don’t rest for a moment on Jaehyun’s body, immediately reaching to begin undressing him. 

You tug at his tie, and Jaehyun moans, reaching up to help you unfasten the tie, and then it’s cast away. 

Jaehyun stumbles a few steps down the narrow hallway (for lack of a better word) toward his bedroom, but only makes it a few steps before he staggers sideways, almost slipping on the discarded tie. 

He crashes against the wall with a breathless laugh and you fall with him. Jaehyun smiles brightly, his cheeks soft and squishy and his eyes turn to crescents behind his cheeks. And those dimples. You think you’re in love with those dimples. 

Jaehyun stays against the wall, his hands on your hips keep you held against him, and he leans in to kiss you once again. 

With his tie gone, there’s nothing to keep you from tugging his shirt up from where it’s tucked in. Nothing to keep you from unbuttoning his shirt as his hands move, one down to cup your ass, the other slides upward and finds your breasts. 

You unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can, and at last your fingers find the last button and you push his shirt open, sliding your fingers underneath. 

Jaehyun gasps and lets out a sound akin to a moan. He watches you push at his shirt more, letting it fall from his shoulders, and he enjoys the way you’re looking at him. Hungrily and excited, like you’ve just unwrapped your present. 

He’s hairier than you expected. A light dusting of hair on his chest and a trail that leads down below the waistband of his jeans. You touch his stomach, tracing that trail lightly with your fingers. 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun’s head drops back against the wall, and when you look up at him, his eyes are closed, and his cheeks are a little pink. You smile and lean in, press a kiss to his throat that draws another moan from him. 

As your fingers reach his waistband, you dare to press your palm a little lower, and you feel the firmness of Jaehyun’s erection below the material. 

You kiss his throat again, and Jaehyun’s hands fall to your hips, holding tight as he spins things around so you’re the one with your back to the wall. He kisses you again and his hands wander over you, plucking and pulling at your clothes until you’re in a similar state of undress: your top is gone as you stand there in your bra and pants, kissed breathless against the wall. 

His bulge rubs against your belly, and as he begins rocking his hips against you for just a bit of friction, you feel your arousal growing. Jaehyun sucks your tongue a little and you let out a defeated sort of whine, and pull out of the kiss. 

Your hands are both resting low on his hips, your thumbs dip below his waistband, and the moment Jaehyun shifts back half a step, you’re sinking to your knees. You just want to have him in your mouth. 

Ever since you saw that happy trail leading to his cock, it’s all that you’ve wanted to just kiss below his navel and then give him the best head he’ll ever get on his Valentine’s Day Birthday. 

So that’s exactly what you do. 

“You don’t have to…” Jaehyun starts to say even as his fingers move into your hair, even as you settle on your knees and look up at him through your eyelashes. 

His breath comes out shaky when you kiss just below his belly button. Your fingers work to undo the button fastening closed his jeans, and you place another kiss just a bit lower than the first. You drag down the zipper, kiss again. 

Jaehyun’s hands beat you to pushing his jeans down. And then there’s his cock, pushing against the soft material of his underwear, a wet spot already forming at the tip. 

You skip the last bit of kissing his happy trail in favor of landing a kiss on the covered head of his dick. 

Jaehyun’s fingers fly back to your hair, pushing it back so he can clearly see your face as you look up at him and lean in to do that again. 

This time you fit your lips around the clothed tip and suck a little, run your tongue over that sensitive spot, and smile to yourself as Jaehyun moans again. 

You pull back and lick your lips. “Do you want me to suck you off?” You ask, and the words aren’t even fully out of your mouth yet before Jaehyun is nodding. 

Not wanting to let him or yourself down, you go back to kissing the last bit of his trail, and you drag down the elastic band of his underwear slowly. You enjoy the feel of the heat of his skin against your face, the smell of Jaehyun which is something musky, boyish, but also something fresh like pine. 

“Oh, this feels…” Jaehyun sighs, and you’re not even touching his dick right now, but it’s just the feeling of your lips on his skin, the slow and gentle way you’re teasing him right now, that’s driving him crazy. 

You kneel back and, tired of waiting, you drag the last layer of clothing on Jaehyun’s body the rest of the way down. And then you’re eye-to-eye with his cock and the tamed (but definitely present) amount of hair around his base. 

You stroke your thumbs in circles at his hips, and Jaehyun seems to be holding his breath, waiting to feel your lips, your warm mouth that he likes so much, to finally be around his desperately hard erection. 

You lick your lips again and then lean in.

The last time you sucked dick was your last relationship months ago. He had always liked to control you in bed, and that had been fine mostly, but now with Jaehyun, you want to have a bit more free rein. 

And he lets you. He doesn’t move to make you do anything, he just lets you take him in slowly. 

You suck on the tip for a moment before you bring one hand to his base and start taking more of him in. You take it slow, not pushing yourself too hard because you don’t want to choke around him, and Jaehyun just strokes your hair and moans. 

When your lips meet your fingers, your gag reflex is triggered, and the feeling of your throat convulsing around him making a muscle in Jaehyun’s thigh start twitching and his grip on your hair grows tighter. As you pull back off, the flavor of his precum drags over your tongue, and something primal takes over, and you forget about what you wanted to do, how slow you wanted to take this to see how far you could draw this out. That small bit of precum on your tongue takes over and all you can think of is Jaehyun cumming on your tongue. 

When you kneel back and just sit there with the tip of his cock between your lips, it takes a moment but then Jaehyun starts moving, thrusting into your mouth, and you close your eyes and go with the pace that he sets. Your hand jerking over what your mouth doesn’t cover. 

Jaehyun curses, leans forward with his arms against the wall over your head to steady himself while you pull pleasure from him so well. 

Not that he would admit it to you, but it’s been so long since he had more than his hand. Totally random hook-ups weren’t quite his style, so Jaehyun hadn’t actually had sex or more than a hot makeout with some grinding and maybe a handjob if he was lucky in nearly a year. 

So, your mouth hot around him, your pretty eyes and lips, your hand fast on his cock, pushes him close to the edge much faster than Jaehyun intended. 

“Ah, fuck,” his hips snap forward, and you put your hands both on his hips to hold him back to where you can take him. “I’m gonna cum, fuck.” 

Jaehyun moans as you push forward and take his whole length down to the base, swallow and suck as you pull up, take more in, suck and moan. 

He cums with a long, low moan that sends a gush of wetness into your panties. His load fills your mouth quickly and you swallow as well as you can, Jaehyun’s little thrusts as he rides out his orgasm only serving to push cum out of the corners of your mouth. 

Jaehyun takes a step back on shaky legs, and you smile and swallow. He doesn’t taste bad, better than your last boyfriend. Jaehyun’s back hits the wall across from you and he slides down slowly, pushing his hands through his hair. 

“That was great. That was amazing.” He drags a hand over his chest, massaging his pecs. “You’re the best fake girlfriend I’ve ever gotten real head from.” 

“Well that’s the first real blowjob I’ve given in a long while.” You wipe at the corners of your mouth. 

Jaehyun moves across the floor to you, takes you by the back of the neck, and pulls you into another kiss. 

You’re a bit surprised when he goes straight for your pants. Pleasantly surprised, that is. You half expected for things to be over now that he’d gotten his birthday blowjob, but Jaehyun wants more and so do you. The sea of arousal soaking your panties is evidence enough of that. 

Jaehyun wrestles your pants down your legs. 

For the first time, as Jaehyun sits back to get your pants over your ankles, you’re hit with a new wave of self-consciousness. 

When you left the house that morning, you were expecting just brunch with your friends, maybe a little shopping, and then a night in of just you and some good food and a book or a movie. You hadn’t expected you’d be about to have sex with the most gorgeous man you’d ever met, but here you are in that exact situation. 

You hadn’t shaved that morning or the previous day or even the day before that, if you’re being honest. It was winter and you were single and shaving was too much effort sometimes. 

And until that moment when your legs are totally bare and all you’re left in is your bra and a pair of panties, you’re brutally aware of your unshaven legs that are made more prickly by the chilly air of Jaehyun’s apartment on your bare skin. And your bikini region isn’t necessarily the most maintained at the moment. Landscaping hasn’t been a priority given the singleness and winter weather. 

So as Jaehyun’s finally removes your pants, you close your legs and draw them up to your chest a little. 

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun freezes where he is, not wanting to make another move because every part of your body language is suddenly telling him that you’re not exactly feeling what he thought was about to happen. “Did I do something?”

You glance down at your knees. “Sorry, no. You haven’t done anything, it’s just I know most guys are kinda turned off by women with body hair.” Your ex was, he wouldn’t touch you if you hadn’t shaved, but he was kinda an asshole. Not that you’re going to tell Jaehyun any of that stuff. “And full disclosure, I haven’t shaved my legs in a few days and for other places, it’s maybe been a little longer.”

You don’t want to look at Jaehyun. You can feel his eyes on you, and you’re sure that he’s picking out all the hairs, all the little things. 

“So I understand if that’s a turn off for you.” You mumble. 

Jaehyun moves forward then. You feel his hand on your calf, sliding around to hold your leg, he moves it. And then he does the same with your other leg before he scoots forward a bit more until he’s sitting right in front of you with your legs on either side of his hips. 

“For me,” Jaehyun smiles. “This is definitely not a problem. It’s just hair.” 

His fingers brush lightly over the crotch of your panties, over the wet spot there. 

“If you want,” Jaehyun watched the way you shiver when his finger runs over your clit, separated by the damp material of your panties. “I’m totally happy to still have sex.” He leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth, his fingers still moving over your panties. “What do you think? What do you want?”

“Yeah,” You gasp, for at that moment Jaehyun’s fingers swept your panties to the side, and he slid a finger right over your entrance. “Please, Jaehyun.”

A moment later, you’re on your back on the floor, Jaehyun kisses you, his bare chest against your chest, his hand inside your panties. He rubs at your clit for a moment, kissing the gasps and moans from your lips, and then he gives you a single finger. 

“You’re so wet. Sucking me off really turned you on didn’t it?” He murmurs against your lips, swirling the finger inside of you. “And just think, both of us would have ended up spending tonight alone, if things would’ve gone to plan.”

“Stop talking.” You moan and drag his mouth back down to yours.

Jaehyun fits another finger inside you, searching for your G spot, scissoring his fingers open, stimulating you with his thumb still on your clit. You can feel your orgasm coming, but you want him inside of you when you do. 

“Stop. Stop, I’m going to cum.” You swat at his shoulder. “I want you inside me. I want to feel you.”

In an instant, Jaehyun’s fingers are gone as well as your panties, and then Jaehyun is gone too, ducking into the bathroom for a moment before he’s back, tearing open the condom wrapper with his teeth before rolling it down his length. 

“You good?” He asks, running his hand over his cock a few times. 

“Yeah,” You sit up and move forward. “But can I ride you?” 

Jaehyun sits there on his knees, his legs spread, hand on his cock, and he nods, trying not to show his excitement. 

It’s not the easiest position to get comfortable in, with Jaehyun staying like that. But you move forward, straddle him, and then Jaehyun pushes up into you and you settle down with his cock entirely inside you. 

Jaehyun leans back, letting you hold onto his shoulders and start riding him. You watch the pink of his blush spread from his ears to his cheeks to his neck and chest. He bites his lip, trying to hold in his moans, but you’ve heard them already and you’d love to hear more. 

“What are you being so quiet for?” You ask. “I want to hear you moan. Please, Jaehyun.”

He curls his hand against the back of your neck and crushes your mouth to his in a kiss that’s little more than just that. You bounce on his cock, and you hear his muffled moans against your lips. 

Louder, you want to tell him, but instead you lean back, putting your hand to the floor to give you some more leverage so when you thrust down on him he hits right against your G spot. You moan his name, and the rest of the sounds that come out each time his cock hits that spot inside of you are completely out of your control. 

Soon your whole body feels consumed by pleasure. You can feel yourself sweating and your muscles ache, but it feels so good. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Jaehyun moans, and he reaches for your chest, putting a hand on one of your boobs. 

The stimulation of his fingers on your nipple has you clenching around his cock, and you sit up again, settling down in his lap as your legs can’t hold you anymore. 

“I can’t,” You groan, squeezing around him, trying to shift to get him pressed just right against that spot. “I’m so close. Please, Jaehyun.”

He tilts you backwards, careful but also careless as he thrusts into you. His chest is sweaty, sticking against yours, and you drag your nails up his back, digging them in as your orgasm hits. 

Jaehyun follows soon after, filling the condom inside you, and his moans are all that you can hear. He thrusts into you shallowly a few more times before he pulls out, ties the condom off, and tosses it toward the trash bin a few feet away. Then he collapses on top of you, his hot sticky skin pressed to yours once again. 

“We haven’t even made it to the bed yet,” He pants a little, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “So, another round?” 

You tilt your head to judge the distance between where you currently are and the bed, and you laugh. It’s just a few feet away, but you just got fucked on the floor. Quite well fucked, you might add. But, yeah, you think you could go for another. 

Jaehyun’s stamina surprises you. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” You wait as he climbs to his feet and then helps you to yours, and then you’re in his bed, Jaehyun’s lips on your thighs, hands pushing them apart. 

You don’t have time or a place in your mind to think about what you’re doing, you just lie back and enjoy the feeling of Jaehyun eating you out. He’s sloppy about it, a lot of spit, slipping his fingers into you in search of that spot that’ll make you cum for him, and it’s not long before you do. 

Your orgasm hits, and you dig your fingers into the pillow behind you and roll your hips against Jaehyun’s face, you catch the way that his eyes are watching you, enjoying every bit of seeing you fall apart for him. 

And then you’re simply worn out. The day has been filled with too many things. Lying and scheming and birthday having and Valentine’s Day fucking. 

You close your eyes and reach down to Jaehyun who’s still lapping at your pussy. “That’s enough. I don’t think I can take any more. You give me any more orgasms, and it’s not fair for your birthday.” 

“Maybe giving you orgasms is the best present I could ask for,” Jaehyun suggests teasingly, and you gasp when he licks your clit once more, but he’s done after that. 

You’re not even sure if you can open your eyes anymore. It’s late and Jaehyun’s given you two great orgasms, you’re too tired. 

He slides up the bed to lay beside you, and you feel him pull the covers up over both of you. 

“Stay,” he whispers. “Please tell me you’ll stay.”

“For you? Of course.” You push your face against his shoulder. His arm slides around you, and within moments you’ve fallen asleep. 

You’re woken some time the next day by a loud crash as Jaehyun’s apartment door flies open, and then a second later, a boy with big eyes, sharp features, and bright pink hair comes around the corner. 

He freezes when he sees Jaehyun sitting halfway upright, and then his eyes slide past him to where your face is half hidden in the pillow with the comforter tugged all the way up to your chin. 

“He didn’t need us!” The boy exclaims, gesturing at you in the bed. “He’s got someone already here keeping him company.”

“What?” Another voice says from the hallway, and a moment later a tall guy peers around the corner, looking at the two of you. 

You groan and pull the covers over your head, and when Jaehyun tries to pull some of them away from you so he can at least hide a little bit too, you pinch his thigh and leave him out there to deal with his friends. 

The two guys, who Jaehyun eventually convinces to leave for a minute so you two can get dressed, are Taeyong and Johnny, his best friends. 

After you’ve gotten dressed in the first clothes you can find (because Taeyong is standing impatiently outside the apartment door counting down from sixty), the two guys tease Jaehyun for making a big deal out of always spending his birthday alone, so they’d come over to have a post-birthday birthday party. 

But they found you and realized Jaehyun had already had a birthday celebration of sorts. 

They’d brought a cake, some alcohol. Clearly a great party. 

“You can stay,” Jaehyun tells you quietly as you head for the bathroom while Johnny and Taeyong are distracted with lighting the candles for Jaehyun’s cake. “I guarantee they won’t be here long. And besides, I had a lot of fun with your yesterday, and I was thinking we could grab lunch or something.”

You’re currently dressed in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt of his that you’d pulled off the floor, and you’d have to be blind to not notice the way that Jaehyun hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you in it. If you stay, maybe you can get the chance to have him inside you again.

“Stay,” He holds your hand. “We’ll eat some cake, and I’ll tell them to leave. I really like you, and besides, we need to study up on each other if you’re keeping your side of the deal to meet my parents tomorrow.”

If Jaehyun wasn’t so handsome and cute, if he didn’t make you feel like the sun was glowing from inside you, you would have said no. 

“Okay,” you glance toward the kitchenette. “But I’m going to take a shower now.”

Jaehyun nods happily, and you close the bathroom door right as you hear the first notes of “Happy Birthday” being sung. 

When you get out of the shower a handful or two of minutes later, feeling fresh and clean, you find that your clothes from the night before are folded on the edge of the sink, although you panties are suspiciously missing, but you decide not to hold that against Jaehyun. 

True to his word, Jaehyun sends his friends away sooner rather than later. They’re nice guys, and from what you get to know of them in the time that they’re there, you think you could be friends with them too. 

The rest of the day is spent alternately making out, talking about random things, having sex, eating cake, and then actually talking about your pasts, genuinely getting to know each other. And the more you learn about Jaehyun, the more you like him until later that night (as he kisses your neck right after telling you about how his childhood dream of being an astronaut transformed into his adulthood reality of studying to become a teacher) when you start to think that as crazy as this might be when considering how this started and also how it’s only been a day since you met him, you think he could be the one. 

Like full on Disney “we’ve only just met but I’m in love” kind of feelings. 

And those feelings are still there the next morning as you drag yourself away from him so you can go home, shower (finally shave), change clothes, and then go meet Jaehyun and his parents for lunch. 

Those feelings are there all through the journey back to your apartment, through your time getting ready as you wear a scarf that will cover the hickeys he left low on your throat. The nice fluttery warm feeling lasts to the restaurant, intensifying when Jaehyun puts his hand on your waist and when he pulls out your chair for you to sit on. 

You feel that feeling as Jaehyun asks you a few days later if you’d actually like to be his real girlfriend, it lasts for weeks, through multiple real dates. 

The feeling grows and grows through real confessions of “I love you”, through brief hardships that appear, through Jaehyun graduating to become a teacher.

The love grows. 

And then comes the next Valentine’s Day Birthday. One year to the day since you met, and Jaehyun tells you to meet him at that book shop before he takes you out to dinner. 

You hold his present in your hand, just something simple that he’d mentioned wanting in passing a week or two before. You wait in the store, browsing absently as you wait for him to arrive, and finally he does. 

You hear the bell over the shop’s door, and then Jaehyun’s there, sweeping you into a hug, kissing your cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy birthday,” You reply, and you hold out the present to him. “I have something for you.”

Jaehyun’s smile grows wider and he opens the gift and you know that he’s grateful for it, but at that moment he doesn’t say it. Instead he says, “I have something for you, too.”

And then he sinks down into one knee, pulls a small box from his pocket, and holds it up to you. 

“This is for you.”

When he pulls the lid back, and you see that resting on the soft black velvet of the box is a key, you let out a half-outraged cry. “Jaehyun! Oh my god.” 

He laughs and stands up, he pulls you into a hug. “Will you move in with me? I’m sorry, I couldn’t help the dramatics. Did you think I was going to ask you something else?” 

You pinch his side and he laughs harder. Of course you’ll move in with him, even if you were just moving into the tiny apartment (but after you say yes, he reveals that he’s got a new place, bigger, nicer). 

Because for him, you’d live anywhere as long as Jaehyun was there with you. 

a/n: if you’ve read this whole thing thank you so much! if you liked it please like and reblog (and if you add comments in a reblog I’ll love you forever. 

this was partially inspired by a few asks I’ve had recently about sucking jaehyun off and also by the recent discussions about hairy jaehyun and also some anons were talking about being self conscious about their body hair, and I probably could’ve gone on and on with the fake relationship thing because that’s one of my favorite tropes, but I had to cut it short (yes, I am considering 9.5k words short in this case) because otherwise this could’ve been super extremely long

[fallinnflower]

it all goes to you

ten x reader x johnny ?, (angst to fluff, friends to lovers, non-idol!au)

a/n: i don’t wanna spoil it so it’s technically a surprise ending~

You first meet Johnny and Jaehyun during your first year of university, when you land a tech job at the campus radio station. It’s not the most interesting one in the world, but it’s better and more aligned with your interests than working in the campus cafeteria. Their set, Night Night, just happened to be the last one you worked every Friday evening, and so you often ended up walking across campus with them.

The two of them lived in a frat just off the edge of campus with a few of their friends (whom you’d met through their guest hosting on the radio show), but they were always willing to walk you back to your dorm hall before backtracking to their house. 

Eventually, either Johnny or Jaehyun or one of their roommates (serving as a guest for the night) would bring you coffee or food along with them, or invite you out after the show. While you hadn’t gotten the job with the intention of making friends, you suddenly found yourself welcomed into the friendly frat’s circle.

And it's through the frat and radio show that you officially met Ten.

You had a couple of classes with Ten, but neither of you had ever really spoken to each other — in part because you were too intimidated by his good looks. 

(After his first guest radio appearance he suddenly slid into the seat beside you in your shared morning class, leaving you startled and flustered.

“Y/N!” He’d greeted, “I didn’t recognize you without those big headphones on.” You’d been a little confused by his statement, because you didn’t think those radio show headphones made you look very different, but you managed a laugh as he pulled out his notebook and books.

You two have been seat-mates in your shared classes ever since, and you’d only fallen harder.)

Despite seeing Ten more often, you still find yourself being closest with Johnny and Jaehyun (though Lucas argues that he’s your true best friend) as far as the boys in the frat go. It’s not to say that they aren’t all nice, but they’re the ones you spend the most time with. Also, Johnny’s room is the best to nap in; he has a lot of plushies. 

With that being said, you fully expect the invitation you get to celebrate Johnny’s birthday at the frat house when it happens to fall on a weekend, and also fully expect being asked to help set up.

The house is already insane when you show up, and the party hasn’t even properly started; Johnny and Jaehyun are still out getting the alcohol and snacks, and everyone else is rushing to make things looks presentable before Taeyong and Ten got home from dance practice. 

You make your way into Johnny’s room to drop your backpack (and to avoid Mark inevitably asking you for help moving the couch, your back didn’t need that). When you come back downstairs, Lucas has been roped into helping him, and Taeyong and Ten are toeing off their shoes in the entryway. It’s stupid, but you feel butterflies in your stomach as Ten pushes his hair back out of his eyes and looks up to grin at you. Taeyong does the same as they both pass by you to go upstairs and take showers, both of them sweaty and tired from their practice.

You watch Ten go up the stairs, nearly sighing at yourself for not saying anything like the lovesick fool you are, but Taeil doesn’t give you time to mope when he suddenly drags you into the kitchen to help him cook dinner, then set up snack bowls when Johnny and Jaehyun arrive.

“So, are you excited?” Johnny asks, nudging you with his elbow as you both dump bags of chips into bowls. You scoff and nudge him back.

“What, for you to get drunk and clingy? No thanks.” Johnny ruffles your hair, laughing, and you swat his hand away.

“Ten sometimes gets clingy when he’s drunk, too.”

“Shut up,” you whine, pushing him away.

“Hey, don’t be mean,” Johnny pouts. “It’s my birthday.” You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile.

“Yeah.” Johnny slings an arm around your shoulders and you lean into his side for a moment before nudging him to get back to work with you on the snack bowls.

All the boys (excepting Mark and Ten, who are a little too thick to catch on) know how you feel about Ten. You aren’t exactly good at being subtle, quick to blushing and easy to fluster. Normally, it isn’t so bad that they know, but it only gets worse when they got drunk and meddlesome. 

And, oh God, are they getting drunk tonight. 

Johnny in particular seems excited, and you imagine the liquid courage is just making him act on his unfailing optimism when he starts leading you towards the closet and shoving Jaehyun to go get Ten. When he pushes you in and you step on a board game, feeling the box break under your heel, you can only think they deserve it for all the trouble they’re putting you through. 

Just as you turn to try and push the door open, Ten is suddenly thrown in and the door promptly blocked by the coffee table (which you hear Taeyong getting annoyed about somewhere in the kitchen). 

The closet is dark and small, and Ten is so close you can smell his cologne. Your head is already spinning.  Ten stumbles towards you, slightly, leaving you pressed back into the jackets hanging behind you. The rattling of the clothing hangers is the only sound until Ten lets out a gentle laugh, his breath fanning across your cheek. 

“Hi,” he says, and you feel your heart skip a beat. 

“Hey.” You hear him laugh again, and he reaches out with one hand, slowly, until he finds your cheek. A shiver runs down your spine at his light touch, and you can’t seem to stay mad at the circumstances when Ten slowly tilts your chin up to kiss you. 

His lips are warm and soft, and he tastes a little like beer and a little like the frosting from Johnny’s cheap birthday cake, and he’s a good kisser. He’s gentler than you expected, almost hesitant until you reciprocate in earnest, drawing yourself closer to him despite how warm you already feel from your racing heart. His hands move away from your face to wind around your waist, roaming along your spine and causing you to shudder again as you wrap your arms around his neck. He smiles against your lips at your reaction, and you’re just a little too light-headed to be embarrassed. 

Ten’s hair is soft where you run your fringed through it, and he suddenly draws you even closer, so that you can feel his abdomen pressed against your own, the way his heart is beating fast like yours. You never would have imagined things going like this, and suddenly you can’t even remember what being mad at Johnny — at anyone — feels like. 

Ten breaks away and presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed. You can barely make out his face in the darkness. 

“I really like you,” he says, and you feel your heart soar. You take a deep breath, worried that your voice is going to tremble,

“Hana.”

Your stomach drops. 

Ten leans forward and kisses the corner of your lips, along your cheek, trailing towards your neck. You start to press against his shoulders to push him back, but the door is suddenly flung open. Ten hisses something under his breath and covers his eyes against the light, but you turn to meet Johnny and Lucas’s apologetic gazes as they hold the closet door and coffee table respectively. 

Ten moves his hand away and blinks at you, but you rush past Johnny and Lucas with a tight-lipped smile before anyone can say anything. 

You hear Johnny call your name, and think you hear Ten asking if that was you, but you continue to head straight upstairs. When you get to Johnny’s room and flop face down amongst all his plushies, still riding too much of your emotional high to cry. 

You tug one against your chest, curl around it, and text your best friend to come get you. 

While the logical part of you knows that it wasn’t anyone’s intention for your heart to get broken, the part of you that’s still hurt is quick to text your coworker Vernon on Friday afternoon to see if he’s willing to pick up your night shift. It’s childish, and you’re willing to admit that the sight of relief you breathe when he agrees to take it for the night, but you’re hurting and you’re sure that if you see Johnny and his sad, puppy-dog eyes you’ll either burst into tears or throw your water bottle at him.

The only one you haven’t convinced yourself to entirely avoid is Taeyong, if only because his presence is calming in a maternal sort of way. And he doesn’t ask you big questions, or beg you for forgiveness — instead he just asks if you’ve eaten and orders a pizza to be sent to your dorm when you reply that you haven’t. You know he feels guilty, like all the boys do, even though he didn’t have a hand in it, and it simultaneously makes you feel better and worse.

You bury your feelings with a large pizza meant only for yourself (your roommate having gone home for the weekend), and a marathon of your favorite show. And still, somehow, your heart just hurts.

Monday morning rolls around, bringing with it a dark gray sky that threatens rain but never delivers on its promise. It makes it even harder for you to leave your bed, but gives you a good excuse to wear baggy clothes you can hide yourself in and not to bother too much with your hair. (The fact that you would have done things the same way despite the weather no longer matters, but you’re grateful to Mother Nature for letting you indulge in your pity party a little longer.)

Your Monday morning class happens to be one that you share with Ten, and as you near the building you slow your steps and check your phone. There are still almost twenty minutes until your class starts, and you aren’t sure you want to be sitting alone if Ten shows up early.

You make a sharp left and head for the cafe on campus to grab yourself a coffee and muffin, for no reason other than to kill time. As a result, you get to class only five minutes early, and quickly dart into the seat beside Wendy. She looks a little surprised to see you, but doesn’t say anything other than hello. You can feel Ten’s eyes on you the entire time you’re sitting in the lecture, and it makes you feel jittery. If you weren’t such a coward, you're sure you would have up and bolted from the lecture by now. As it is, you stay seated and then bolt from the room the moment the professor dismisses you, not even stopping to put things in your bag before you go. 

Is it foolish? Are you overdoing it? Maybe. But it’s hard to ignore the way your heart is pounding, the clamminess of your hands and the cold sweat you feel breaking out across your skin. You’re so caught up in just getting away, holding your notebook against your chest like a shield, that you don’t even realize Jaehyun is walking your way until you knock shoulders with him. 

“Y/N—” you try to keep walking, but Jaehyun takes a hold of your elbow. It doesn’t hurt you, it isn’t very firm at all, but you still feel the urge to cry out. You barely look up at him before your eyes start to gloss over with tears, and Jaeyhun’s brow furrows. 

“What’s going on?” He asks, softly, and you shake your head. Over his shoulder you can see Ten approaching, and your heart sinks. 

“Jaehyun, please, I have to go—”

“Are you okay?”

“No, I—”

“Y/N!” Ten calls, and attempts to pick up the pace through the swarm of students. Jaehyun looks from him to you hit as the tears start to fall from your eyes, and you feel pathetic as you stare up at him. 

“Jaehyun, please.”

Jaehyun’s mouth opens, then closes. You sniffle. He loosens his grip on your elbow, just slightly—

And you bolt. 

You should have expected that Johnny would learn about your encounter with Jaehyun, but receiving a text from him still makes you feel antsy. He apologizes again, and you curl into your pillows and drag your blanket up under your chin before typing out a simple, it’s okay. As sad as you felt then, you now just feel more embarrassed than anything else, and, in the end, that’s not really Johnny’s fault. Johnny isn’t the malicious type, and he probably just misunderstood Ten’s feelings — if he knew anything about them. 

It’s okay, you tell yourself, just like you told Johnny. I’m okay. You just hope that soon you’ll feel like that’s true. 

Never one to leave anything unresolved, even in the slightest, Johnny (and Jaehyun) comes by later with your favorite kind of pizza. When Johnny takes his backpack off in your dorm room, you’re surprised to find that it’s actually full of stuffed toys and not books, as well as an oversized hoodie bearing the word CHICAGO in bold red letters. He meets your raised eyebrow with a sheepish smile,

“You still seemed kinda down, so I brought you some of your favorites.” The three of you stand in an awkwardly silent triangle for a while, Johnny clutching plushies in his arms and both him and Jaehyun watching you as your gaze travels from the plushies in the bag to the ones Johnny is holding. He does, in fact, have your favorite giant Ryan plush in his hands.

You reach into the backpack and tug the sweatshirt on, then hold both of your arms out and are met with Johnny’s megawatt smile as he transfers the soft pile into your arms. Jaehyun gives you a gentle smile, shaking the pizza box in his hands a little.

“Movie time?” He asks, and you can’t help but smile as you nod, burying your chin in the pile of plush toys in your arms. You don’t feel great, but you certainly feel better.

The boys leave after two movies and an entire box of pizza, but Johnny refuses to take the stuffed toys back from you.

“Keep them as long as you want,” he says, and then, with a laugh, “We both know I have plenty.” You pull your favorite back against your chest and smile down at your sheets as he turns to go, feeling lighter than you have in days. You look up and find Johnny about to walk out your door. Biting down on your lip, you set the plushie down and stand up.

“Johnny?” He turns back, and he looks concerned. You wrap your arms around his middle, squeezing tightly. You feel tears pricking at your eyes, but you don’t feel sad as his arms wind around you, one hand gently smoothing down your hair. In a rare moment of softness with him, you press your forehead into the crook of his neck and let out a shaky breath; you’re grateful when he doesn’t question it, just squeezes you gently for a moment. 

“Thank you.” You feel his lips on the crown of your head, and his expression settles into one of his gentle, warm smiles as he pulls away.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies, and then slips out of the door to join Jaehyun.

You fall asleep holding onto your favorite of Johnny’s plushies, surrounded by the others.

You have a dream that night. Maybe it’s because you’re surrounded by warmth and Johnny’s scent, but thoughts of him follow you all through the night. At first, everything feels normal; you’re just sitting around with him on the couch in his living room, and nobody else is home. You’re watching some movie, but once you’re awake you just can’t remember for the life of you what it is. You suppose it doesn’t matter, since the key part of the dream is when he kisses you. 

And you kiss back.

And it just kind of… keeps happening, until you wake up.

You bury your face in the Ryan plush you still have in your arms and scrunch up your face in embarrassment. It would be a lie to say you didn’t think Johnny was attractive — in fact, before you basically fell in love with Ten at first sight, you’d been pretty head over heels for Johnny. Your friends all used to tell you to make a move, but then he’d ruffle your hair or play around with you like you were more of a little sister than a romantic interest, and you’d given up before you’d ever really done anything about your feelings. Johnny was a good friend and, cliche as it was, you weren’t about to risk that.

But as you think back on your dream, you can’t help but recall the evening preceding it, and other moments where Johnny had done heart-fluttering things without a second thought. Usually, you can chock it all up to Johnny just being a nice guy, because he is, but something about the way he had held you the night before feels… different. It’s belated, you know, but you’re realizing that your crush on Ten may have been blown a little out of proportion; in reality, it’s been little more than just a strange form of hero worship than anything concrete. You feel a chill descend in your stomach, suddenly. Had you just been using Ten to get over Johnny?

Your phone buzzes, snapping you out of it, and you let out a groan as you roll over to retrieve it.

good morning, sunshine! how are you feeling? >

The sight of Johnny’s message makes you simultaneously giddy and afraid. You’d spent what felt like forever getting over Johnny and his stupid charisma, and now you suddenly found yourself thrown back into his orbit. The knots in your stomach continue to twist up — if you told Johnny how you felt, would he think he was a rebound? You put your phone face down on the sheets and furrow your brow. Would people judge you for realizing your feelings for Johnny this way? Would they see you as fickle? You suddenly feel guilty, all wrapped up in Johnny’s too-big sweatshirt and surrounded by his pillows and plushies. A small part of you suddenly wishes you’d never met Johnny, or Jaehyun, or Ten or any of those boys, though you immediately feel bad for thinking so. 

The thing is, you realize, as your phone buzzes again to remind you that you have a text waiting to be opened, you can’t really lie to Johnny about your feelings. If you just suddenly changed your demeanor he’d probably think you were upset at him again, which you really don’t want considering he seemed so miserable about it before. You sigh, realizing that you need to put an end to this Ten drama before you do anything else. You pick your phone back up and ignore the message from Johnny, opening your somewhat old conversation with Ten.

< hey, i think we need to talk.

Your stomach twists into uncomfortable knots as you wait for a reply, and you sink your teeth down into your bottom lip as you see those three tell-tale dots pop up on your screen. They appear and disappear for a good minute before a reply comes through.

I think so too. cafe at 2? > 

< perfect. see you then.

< thank you, Ten.

You have roughly three hours to get ready to meet Ten, and despite your revelations so far this morning, you still have butterflies. You drag yourself up out of bed and to the kitchen, Johnny’s message left ignored.

At about 1:45 you find yourself checking that you have everything you need on your person: keys, wallet, chapstick, and your phone at full battery. You take a look at yourself in the mirror and force yourself to take a deep breath, but your small motivational speech to yourself is interrupted by rapid knocks at your door. You wonder, not without a certain spark of nerves, if Ten has decided to come walk you to the coffeeshop.

“Hey, I—” Your thoughts are brought to a halt when you see Johnny standing in your hallway and not Ten, looking rather rumpled and with his brows furrowed in concern. His eyes rake over you, finally settling on the makeup on your face.

“Johnny, what are you doing here?” You ask. He shifts his weight awkwardly, brows still knit together.

“Well, you never opened my texts, so I got a little worried. But, uh, you seem fine… so…” You feel yourself blushing slightly, and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down.

“Sorry, I’m meeting up with Ten at two, and I guess it just slipped my mind.” 

“Oh. Nice. That’s… that’s good.” You can’t remember the last time you felt this embarrassed around Johnny, the last time the two of you stood in such awkward silence with each other.

“Did you… want your stuff back?” Johnny shakes his head almost too quickly, giving you a smile that seems awkward on his face.

“Nah, it’s fine, I didn’t bring a bag anyways.”

“Okay, well,” you start, meeting Johnny’s eyes again finally. “I guess I should get going so I can meet Ten.” 

“Right.” Johnny doesn’t move, however, looking as though he’s thinking intently of something as he watches you fish your keys out of your bag to lock your door. 

“Johnny?” You ask, trying to get past him out of your place. He looks up, gaze determined, and you freeze.

“I don’t think you should meet with Ten,” he says, sternly. It’s your turn to look confused now, adjusting your bag’s strap nervously.

“Why not?”

“I just— I don’t want you to get hurt again over someone who— who doesn’t seem to appreciate you.” He looks like he’s struggling with his words, not even looking at you, and yet you can’t help but be confused.

“I thought you all wanted me to fix things?”  You asked, and he shrugs uncertainly.

“I mean, yeah, but are you sure you’re ready? You were so upset yesterday…” You bite your lip, trying to decide just what to tell Johnny. No lie is going to get you out of this in time to actually go talk to Ten, so you opt for a half-truth instead,

“I’ll be fine, Johnny. I kind of realized this morning that my feelings for Ten were misplaced, so… Yeah. I just want all the awkwardness to be over. I’ll be okay.”

“Misplaced?” He asks, and you curse yourself for your big mouth and inability to properly lie to Johnny — or anyone, really — as you try to find a clean way out of this one.

“Yeah, I just don’t think they were really genuine feelings, you know? It was like… like an idol worship crush, if that makes sense.” Johnny blinks at you, still looking a little confused even as he softly says that he gets it.

“Anyways, I need to go, so—” Johnny hurriedly steps out of your way, apologizing and looking down at his feet. The only sound is your lock clicking and keys jingling together as you drop them into your bag. You start to say goodbye to Johnny, but suddenly you find yourself wrapped up in his arms, your cheek on his shoulder. You hurriedly try to pull away,

“Johnny, I’m gonna get makeup on your clothes—”

“I don’t care,” he mumbles. “I just need to tell you something, and if I don’t do it now then I won’t ever. But I can’t say it to your face, so just be patient, okay?” You nod slightly, relaxing back into his embrace. He lets out a long breath before speaking,

“The real reason I don’t want you to go see Ten is because I like you, and I don’t want you to see him again and get sad all over again. I was really worried this past week and I just want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me, but I don’t think you can be happy with Ten.” Your brows draw together.

“Then why did you tell me to go after him?” You ask, attempting to look up into his face. You’re only able to see enough to show that his cheeks and ears have turned red.

“I wanted you to be happy,” he says, softly, as if he’s embarrassed. “And I didn’t think you would ever like me back.” It feels in poor taste, but you really can’t help but laugh, the sound muffled against Johnny’s shoulder. 

“We’re both idiots, Johnny,” you sigh, and he chuckles but doesn’t disagree,

“Why’s that?” 

“Because I realized this morning that I like you. I’ve liked you since we met, I just didn’t think you would ever like me.” Johnny pulls away from you just to show you his appalled expression.

“I made it so obvious though!” He cries indignantly, and you lightly swat at his chest.

“Shut up! I thought it was just you being nice.” You refuse to look up at him, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. Johnny laughs warmly, taking your hands in his, leaning in close to your ear. You feel heat rising up your neck—

“Does this mean I can have you as a guest star on Night Night and flex on everyone about having a cute girlfriend?” Johnny only laughs when you sigh exaggeratedly, pushing away from his chest and rolling your eyes. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” you say, and his expression falls into a pout — you press your index finger to his lips (which are surprisingly soft, and something you can’t help but dwell on now. Yikes) before he can start complaining. “First, I need to go sort things out with Ten so I don’t make the frat awkward anymore. Okay?”

“Promise?” He asks, the second you move your finger. You hate that his puppy dog eyes make you melt so much, and you can’t help but fall into a fit of giggles, extending your pinkie out to him.

“Promise.” He hooks it with his own and smiles, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead before turning and scampering off. 

“I’ll text you!” He yells before turning the corner, and you only nod, smiling. 

Ten is extremely apologetic when you arrive at the coffee shop, and it takes over twenty minutes (and you spilling about Johnny) for you to finally convince him everything is fine. 

“Does this mean we can be seat buddies again?” He asks, as you’re both getting up to leave, and you can’t help but laugh. You reach over and pat his shoulder.

“Sure thing, Ten.”

And by the start of the next week, everything is back to normal — better than normal, actually, because you’re now officially Johnny’s girlfriend and you’re no longer freaking out over sitting beside Ten in class — and you couldn’t be happier.

[adramaticbeauty]

Gruvia Oneshot: Accepting the Pain

Umm

Thank you💕

Juvia stared at the door as she waited for Gray to come through it. She sighed as she looked at her untouched dinner in front of her and then she glanced at the plate across from hers. She had even made his favorite meal tonight, hoping that maybe he would come home. She chuckled dryly at her situation. Why was she even sitting here waiting? She knew he would be out late, as he had been ever since that day. 

It seemed like no matter where she ended up she was always unhappy in the end. She dumped her plate of food in the trash, as she had lost her appetite long ago. She carefully wrapped up Gray's plate with foil and left it on the table. She trudged upstairs and curled herself up on the bed, which she shared with Gray. She could still smell the scent of oakmoss and pinewood on his pillow. Juvia soon sat up with a start when she heard a loud knock on her door. She jumped off her bed in a heartbeat, even tripping over her bedsheets. She whipped open the door, panting, as she took in the worried face of Lucy Heartfilia. Juvia sighed. She didn't want to have this conversation right now.

"Juvia! You finally opened the door for me! Usually I have to talk through the door…" Lucy trailed off as she took in Juvia's appearance. 

Juvia had looked like she hadn't slept in weeks and her eyes looked red and puffy from crying. Her blue hair was a tangled mess.

"Juvia...thought you were someone else…"

Lucy smiled and embraced her tightly.

"Thank goodness you're okay, Juvia. Everyone has been so worried about you and Gray. Even Gajeel has said he stops by a lot, but you never open the door for him." 

Juvia looked away guiltily. She missed everyone so much at the guild, but she couldn't go back. Not in the condition she was in emotionally. 

"Can I come in Juvia? I'll only be here for a little while I promise!"Lucy pleaded.

Juvia glanced at the floor nervously, while Lucy held her breath. 

"Yes... Juvia will talk with you." Juvia reluctantly said.

She opened the door wider and let Lucy in. The house was sparkling clean, with everything in its place. Even the wooden crib painted blue in the living room was still there, untouched. It was pitiful and Lucy felt tears forming in her eyes at the sight. 

Lucy took a seat on the couch while Juvia took a seat  across from her. It was deafeningly quiet as Lucy thought about what she could possibly say to Juvia for her to understand, and convince her to come to the guild again, or at least get out of the house. But what came to Lucy's mind first was a question she was scared to know the answer to.

" When was the last time Gray came back?" Lucy asked.

Juvia was already prepared for that question. 

"Three days ago.."Juvia solemnly stated.

Lucy felt worry and pity well up in the bottom of her stomach.

"Where is he now?" Lucy asked.

"How should Juvia know? The last time he came to the house he said he was going drinking. And he...never came back. Just like that time.." 

Juvia had lifeless eyes as she said this and Lucy was afraid she was never going to be the same again. She felt pity for Juvia and anger towards Gray. How could he do this to her, and she was suffering with the loss as well?

Lucy gripped Juvia's pale hands in hers and looked in her eyes. 

"Juvia, you need to come with me. You can't stay in this place day after day alone! You might just break if you continue this way." Lucy pleaded.

"Juvia has to wait for Gray~sama to come back home. Even when he does come home and doesn't spend any time with Juvia. Even when he leaves again, she must wait for him. It is what a good wife should do." Juvia couldn't hold back her tears as one slipped from her eye and down her pale cheek.

"Juvia you are falling apart! Gray goes out drinking and who knows when he'll come back!? Nastu and Gajeel have given up trying to talk to him but you have to worry about your mental state! You don't deserve this Juvia...both of you don't."

"Juvia is Gray~sama's wife...if I leave him what will he have left?!"Juvia shouted. Juvia sobbed in Lucy's chest as Lucy soothingly patted her back. 

She hated seeing her this way, hurting so much. But there was nothing she could do but sit on the sidelines. There was a sound of keys jingling and a knob turning from the door. Both of the girls froze as the door swung open and a stumbling Gray came in. Lucy gasped as neither of them were expecting to see Gray. Lucy stood up from the couch so fast and walked over to him, near the door. A slap echoed throughout the room.

Gray stumbled back from the impact of the slap and growled. Any buzz he could have had was gone now. Gray saw a pissed off Lucy in front of him.

"What the hell is your problem, Gray?! This is the 7th time you have left Juvia, and only in a month!" Lucy yelled.

 "What the hell…?" He mumbled rubbing his reddened cheek. Juvia scurried over to Lucy to try and calm her down.

"Lucy-san please! He is probably drunk! We should have this conversation in the morning!" Juvia rambled grabbing onto Lucy's arm. 

"Who knows if he will even BE here in the morning!"Lucy spat.

Juvia shriveled up and started weeping once again, still holding onto Lucy's arm.

"See what you have reduced her to Gray?! Ever since that day you have been nothing but trouble for Juvia! The doctor even prescribed her antidepressant pills and all you can do is leave to go drinking!! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Lucy was now crying with all the anger and sadness she felt. 

Gray was her friend, and she could tell he was hurting inside too, but he was being selfish. None of them would ever heal with the way things were going. 

"Lucy-san...please leave." Juvia sobbed."I will talk with him." 

"No way Juv-"

 "Lucy please!" Juvia pleaded.

 Lucy was reluctant at first but sighed and with a last look of pity for Juvia, walked out of the house and closed the door. Gray slumped to the floor and didn't say a word.

"Gray~sama, Juvia is sure Lucy didn't mean anything by what she said. She was just a little worried about Juvia. Come on, we can make it to the bed so you can sleep." Juvia reached down to try to help him up.

"Why? Why does everything turn out like this for me?" Gray mumbled with a shaking voice. He choked back a sob as he buried his face in his sleeve. 

"I couldn't even have my own son alive. Everyone close to me either leaves or dies. I can't take much more of this hell." Gray cried.

" It was a miscarriage Gray~sama. It wasn't your fault or anyone's...it was just not our time yet…." 

" Juvia it is my fault! I killed my own son! I'm cursed!" Gray yelled.

" Stop it Gray! You know better than anyone we can't get our baby back!" Juvia sobbed as she dropped to the floor. 

" You left Juvia when she needed you the most!" Juvia bawled."When we lost our baby Juvia  was depressed, and accused herself of killing our baby all the time!'Maybe Juvia should just kill herself. Maybe that will stop the pain,' Juvia would always think to herself! And where were you?! Out burying your sorrows in drinks and leaving Juvia all alone, barely even acknowledging Juvia existed as you walked through the door, or if you came home at all!" Juvia gripped her blue locks in frustration from herself. She felt so weak and pathetic.

" Juvia felt so alone...And she couldn't go out to the guild. They would just be treating her like she was a child, constantly checking up on her, and asking  how Juvia was doing! She wouldn't be able to stand it!" Juvia shouted as she dropped to the floor. 

Gray stared in shock at the bawling mess on the floor that was in front of him. He had forgotten she was going through the same pain he was. It was both of their baby they had lost, not only his. He hadn't been thinking of anyone's feelings but his own. 

" I-I'm sorry Juvia..I forgot about how much you were hurting too... Lucy was right. I really am selfish.." Gray mumbled. Gray felt guilt eating him up inside. He really left his wife all alone in her condition. He was the worst. 

Juvia finally looked at Gray with her watery blue eyes and embraced him tightly. 

"All Juvia needed for comfort was you Gray…" Juvia sobbed.

"I'm sorry Juvia. I'm so sorry…" His whispers of apologies faded into the night as he held Juvia as tightly as he could.

Five years later:

"Silvia! Wait up, honey! You're walking too fast!" 

"Come onnn, Momma and Daddy! We are gonna miss the birthday party!" Silvia whined. Gray chuckled at his daughter.

" I'm sure Nashi won't start her birthday party without her best friend."Gray reasoned as he walked alongside his wife.

" Besides mommy has to walk slower because she has a big belly now, remember Silvia?" Juvia reminded her daughter. Silvia's eyes lit up.

" I'm sorry mommy! I forgot my brother is heavy!" Silvia giggled.

As the family rounded the corner they spotted Nashi standing outside the guild.

"Silvia!! Come on!" Nashi yelled as she stood waving her tiny arms in the front of the guild, trying to get Silvia's attention.

"Hi Nashi!" Silvia yelled as loud as she could.

"Mommy! Can I walk faster now? You people walk too slow." Silvia pouted.

"Go ahead honey." Juvia laughed. 

Juvia and Gray watched Silvia run to catch up with Nashi and chat happily as they walked into the guild.

"Juvia never thought she would be pregnant ever again." She whispered to Gray as she rubbed her overblown baby bump.

She was almost 7 months pregnant and it definitely showed.

"Me neither, honestly. Not after what we went through." Gray admitted. " But I'm glad things turned out this way. I will never forget our Storm. He will always be with us." Gray said as he looked to the sky." Especially watching over his new siblings."Gray smiled.

" Your right, Gray~sama. Our baby Storm will live within us. Forever. And Juvia can't wait to meet our new baby boy."

[lovelyirony]

Dads Not Required

where it all started 

Maria Stark hated writing her name. Maria Stark. Maria Stark. Maria Stark. It was everywhere. It was suffocating. It reminded her of a life that she hates living. Being the wife of Howard Stark. Wrapped up in the latest fashions, pointiest shoes, the sharpest lipstick. The kind smiles, graceful and unfeeling. The cold she felt when looking at her son, who she knew deserved better. Call it mother’s intuition. Call it common sense.  

Dinner was always silent. Well, not completely silent. The murmuring of Howard on the phone talking to business associates from the far end of the table. Maria’s utensils clinking against the plate. A sip of water. Tony asking to be excused. The same thing. Over. And over. Maria stares up at the stars and wonder why she sacrificed everything for a man who never loved her. It was so that she could move up in the chain. She had wanted more, but that—that was a mistake. She wanted to get away from her family. Because of everything. Mainly because of something Howard never knew.

She liked women. She did. Knew about it since she was eighteen, but was scared of it. Her father was a dangerous man. He would have kicked her out of the house. Everyone she knew would have stopped talking to her. So she stayed quiet, smiled about boys, and married Howard Stark. “You can’t do better than him,” her mother said. She looks sad. As if she knows why her daughter is not smiling while she slips on a blue garter and stares solemnly into the mirror.

Tony is made out of desperation. Maria has to make a baby.

But she loves him so much after he’s born. She loves him so much that she finally understands why she would stay with Howard if it meant she was never in love. For Tony, she will stay. For her bambino, she would stay. He had her eyes and her hair and her laugh and the only thing he had that wasn’t hers was his nose. Thank god.

Maria doesn’t sleep with her husband. Ever. She has her own room where she hangs up paintings of flowers and Howard scoffs at the jeans in her closet. “Ladies don’t wear that shit,” he says. “Throw it out.”

She doesn’t. She stuffs it farther in the closet, tries not to cry because she’s a lady, and makes sure that her mascara is as Fine as She Is. Because Everything is Fine.

Tony jumps grades. He’s in eighth grade and he’s barely eight. Maria argues with Howard about it, but he says that genius is put to waste. She knows that. They could get him some tutors or something. Have him take advanced classes while still being in the same grade. Tony doesn’t make friends easily. It takes time, and Howard acts like there’s no time at all for this. Tony sits in his classes all alone, and Maria goes to the parent-teacher conferences. They look at her with pity. They think she doesn’t get it. But she does.

Howard drinks. More and more. He builds up a tolerance for alcohol, and he hates it. He says things to Maria. Awful things that she will never repeat or want to think about.

She buys concealer. Tries to find a brand to endorse. They all work about the same in shade coverage. She dabs more of it on. Washes her brushes at the end. Stares in the mirror and reminds herself why it’s all worth it when she sees one of Tony’s fingerprints on her vanity.

She wears her hair in a braid once around the house. It’s a French braid, mainly to make sure that she keeps her hair out of her face while she’s baking. Howard tells her that it looks stupid. She puts her hair in barrettes and smiles and bakes a cake that ends up half-burnt. “We have staff for a reason,” Howard says. “You’d think I don’t pay a chef to do things like this so you don’t ruin things.”

“Of course,” Maria responds.

The cake never gets done. She sits in her bedroom with her hands around her knees and wonders how life would go if she just left. Tony is growing up, learning that family isn’t a word that he knows at all. Just two older people, one being his mother and the other being a man who is supposed to be his dad. But god, there is nothing fatherly about Howard Stark.

Tony’s the one who suggests it. Howard had been a shit father and a shit husband. “Don’t use the word ‘shit,’” Maria says.

“You were thinking it.”

“I know.”

She thinks about it. They would have so much legal trouble. Howard would want to keep Antonio like he was a prize. Make sure his precious heir could never leave and would stay with the company. Maria refuses to stand for it.

Maria Stark smears on make-up as if it’s war paint. She makes sure her eyeliner stays sharp, lips poised for pity. She keeps the concealer thin to highlight the impressionist painting on her skin. Maria Stark walks into court.

Maria Carbonell walks out into the sunshine with mascara slightly smudged and hair in a ponytail. Howard Stark is left behind seething. No custody. Nothing besides child support and maybe a birthday card if he remembers. Howard is never good at remembering personal details. He always forgot her birthday. She celebrated with a glass of wine and her son. She is thirty-eight, and she is independent for one of the first times in her life.

Moving is scary. But she finds an apartment in Brooklyn, a place Howard won’t touch with a hundred-foot-pole. He hates Brooklyn, can’t stand being anywhere besides Manhattan. Maria carries boxes up with Tony and fits a key into a door that looks like it could do with a bit of retouching. Tony promises to work on it even though she doesn’t exactly say anything about it.

She cries in her bedroom. It’s all…clear now. What a terrible person Howard was. How lucky she is that the court let her take Tony with her. How quickly Howard would ruin her if he ever got it into his mind while sober.

Tony suggests it first. He had heard about some of his classmates going to thrift shops for clothes, and Tony had even done it as well, although not with the same frequency. He had money, he could buy clothes that he liked. Now though, it might be a good idea. His mom needed new clothes; the dresses, the pearls, the fancy diamonds were all Howard. Tony knew her jeans were in the back of the closet at home. She had taken them with her.

She finds sweatshirts that are obviously from the eighties with teddy bears on them and flowers and she loves them. She finds t-shirts at other stores that she thinks are funny. Tony sneaks in a purchase that she doesn’t notice and waits.

For dinner, she fixes pasta. “I haven’t cooked in years,” Maria says. “We had ‘staff’ to do that.” Tony nods. He’s moving schools tomorrow, at both his and Maria’s request; high school. He would have been in college perhaps, if he had been with Howard. But he needs to be around people his own age. Besides, it’ll be better to go to school as Tony Carbonell. The last name sounds much softer on the tongue than the last one.

The pasta tastes better than any Michelin-rated restaurant could fix. Tony grins at his mother as they both forgo eating the noodles properly and instead just use their fork and get sauce on their chins. Tony talks to Maria. The dinner is not silent. It’s filled with laughter and smiles and conversation, finally. Maria feels as if she’s on top of the world as she does the dishes and Tony cleans up the table that’s a little rickety. Maria plans to go shopping for placemats tomorrow and make this home her own.

“Hey mom?”

“Yes, Tony?”

“I, um, I got you something.” It’s wrapped in newspaper, the comics section. Maria smiles at her son as she carefully unwraps it.

It’s a pair of smiley face earrings. They were obviously used, not bought new at all. They look so happy, and the pair is something Maria Stark would never be caught dead wearing. But Maria Carbonell likes being happy and wearing fun things, like sweaters with teddy bears on them and flowers. So she smiles at her son and hugs him. “Thank you, Antonio.”

Sarah Rogers knew that greeting new neighbors was imperative because a.) She liked making new friends, and b.) Sarah knew how hard it was on a move. She had moved to the apartment when Joseph had died, and had had no one besides her son for a couple months until Winnie Barnes moved in with Bucky. Bucky and Steve were now thicker than thieves, even if Bucky was away at college now.

She visits at noon exactly with a plate of cookies in her hand. The plate has a nice blue decoration on it. She’s pretty sure that the new neighbor, by the looks of her, will return the plate. She had come into her apartment in a dress and sweater and nice shoes.

The woman who greets her is wearing Keds, jeans, and an oversized sweatshirt that has birds all over it. It’s a nice look. “Hello, I’m Sarah Rogers,” Sarah says. “And I wanted to welcome you into our building. Mind if I set these down?” New neighbor looks nervous.

An hour later, they’re laughing so hard their sides hurt about their boys. “So Tony—he wasn’t allowed to be out of his room past eight on school nights—is peeking out at the dinner party with one toe in his room and a grin on his face, and oh, I was so embarrassed about it!” Maria exclaims. “He always bends the rules.”

“Have I told you about the time that Steve nearly fell from the window because he was so stubborn?” Maria cracks up.

Sarah and Maria leave to pick up their sons from high school. They walk together, still talking and laughing about their children.

Steve walks out to see his mom standing next to a woman who is wearing an old sweater and has her hair in a low ponytail. He smiles as he comes up to them. “Hey mom,” he says. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Maria Carbonell, our new neighbor,” Sarah says. “Her son Tony is in your class.” Steve nods. There are always a few new people in class, so he’ll have to see if he recognizes Tony. Maria smiles warmly at Steve.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she says.

“Likewise,” Steve responds in kind. “You liking the apartment so far?” She beams.

“We’re loving it. I think I’m getting plants to put near the window tomorrow.” They stand around a bit more; Steve checks the message from Bucky. It’s just a meme about college life, so Steve rolls his eyes and sends back “lmao” and puts his phone away to meet the eyes of the most gorgeous guy he’s seen.

He’s wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, his hair is the slightest bit curly, and he has a smile that looks like sunshine. “Hey mom,” he says. “School was good.” So. That’s Tony. How interesting. Sarah shares a look between Maria and Tony. It looks like their boys might want to get to know each other better.

The walk is pleasant. Tony has a lot to talk about. Steve thinks the way that Tony articulates his stories with his hands. He’s talking about his engineering class, and how he’s going to be building a type of robot for his final. Steve talks about his art, and Tony is enraptured in noticing how Steve has paint stains on his hand and what to looks to be a hastily-covered up rendition of a dick on his arm.

“That’s Clint,” Steve says. “He’s funny.” Tony nods. He hasn’t really made any friends yet, so he hopes that Steve counts as one. The boys talk about other interests. Steve really likes listening to his mom’s old records that have scratchy rhythms and clear vocals. Tony likes a lot of classic rock music and can’t stand classical music.

“I like words with my music,” Tony says. Steve nods. (He may or may not write that down while he’s sketching a messy-looking Tony in a sweatshirt with a small smile on his face later.) Steve says that if he had to choose his favorite genre, then it’s probably music that they play at coffee shops. Tony laughs at that, and Steve feels a little bit lighter for it.

Maria smiles as she sees the boys talking and laughing. “When’s the last time you went on a date?” Sarah asks. “Like a real date?” Maria thinks. Thinks some more. Then answers after a minute:

“Never.” Sarah blinks. She decides not to question this, because that’s opening a can of worms that she shouldn’t have access to this early in the friendship.

“Wow, okay. Here I thought I was going to win the competition with me not dating in ten, but it’s clear that you came to conquer.” Maria laughs, blush settling on her cheeks.

“My husband and I just…were. I guess. I was supposed to marry, so I did. But I’ve never really dated anyone.”

“Any guy you ever wanted to date?” Sarah asks.

“Girl,” Maria murmurs. “There were girls I wanted to date.” Sarah blinks.

“Cool. What was her name?”

“Caroline. She was in my freshman class in high school and she always had the prettiest eyes.” Sarah smiles at her new neighbor, who already deserves more than the world has given her thus far. Maria is relieved that Sarah doesn’t say anything. That she isn’t judgmental, and Maria goes to the bathroom to dab at her eyes a little bit before going back to sit with Sarah and ask her what she thinks of trying new recipes out that they have no idea how to cook.

Time passes. Sarah and Maria become fast friends. School passes. By the time they get to November, Sarah and Maria have a glass of wine together, put a sitcom on TV for ambience, and talk about their lives. They know more about each other; Sarah’s husband died while serving, and they never got him back. Just the medals. Sarah wonders if it would be worth it to date a man again. Maria tells about how she always liked girls, but could never date a girl because she would have been killed for it. She married Howard because she thought it was her best option. It wasn’t. But they’re stronger and wiser now, and they have a bond that cannot be broken.

“I have a bet for you,” Sarah says, slightly buzzed. “I have not been on a date in a decade. You haven’t been on a date in, like, ever. So. We’re in a competition now.” Maria raises an eyebrow.

“The stakes?” Sarah grins.

“My waffle maker.”

Sarah Rogers had the best waffle maker this side of New York. She had stolen it from a hipster on a subway station after he had tried to steal some old lady’s purse. Sarah didn’t have a problem with confrontation, or not returning items to owners who were less-than-deserving. Point is, the waffle maker had made the waffles golden brown always, crisp on the outside, and was easier to clean than some of the other ones. 

Maria loved the waffle maker, and had been researching the make and model online only to find that there was a limited run and finding one that’s under one hundred dollars is impossible. (But Sarah and Maria have an open-door policy for their apartments, so it’s not like it makes a difference.)

“Deal,” Maria says, shaking Sarah’s hand. “If you get a date before me, you keep it. But if I get a date, then I get the waffle maker.” Sarah snorts.

Steve and Tony can hear the conversation over their algebra homework. “They’re such nerds,” Tony says with a laugh. “My mom has cried about that waffle maker.”

“My mom cried over a picture of a dog. I guess they’re both just weird.” Steve smiles as Tony laughs. His laugh sounds nice, actually. Better than some.

It turns out that if Maria would just look around, she would notice that there are plenty of women who are giving her looks and stares and open-mouthed-gazes-of-awe, but Maria Carbonell is one oblivious son of a bitch. Sarah groans as she sees Maria pass yet another possible candidate. She sighs as she realizes that she’s going to have to do this herself which is daunting. But not as bad as working retail on Black Friday, so it’s manageable.

[salvationfell-au]

Chapter 1 — Ink vs. Phantom (+Cross)

Characters: Ink Sans, Classic Sans, Error Sans, Cross Sans, Murder Sans, Underfell Characters, Underswap Characters.

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11953509/chapters/27027009

INDEX: https://salvationfell-au.tumblr.com/post/164615456027/dogs-cats-owls-wolves-maybe-griffins-and-what

AUTHOR’S NOTE

\!/ IMPORTANT, REALLY IMPORTANT: I’m not a native speaker. I speak portuguese, but studied english during some years. I already did translations (english > portuguese) and wrote small texts, but nothing big like a entirely story. So, please, be patient with me. I REALLY want to learn and corrections are always welcome. But, again, be nice with me. I’m trying my best \!/

UNDERTALE belongs to Toby Fox CROSS SANS belongs to @jakei95 INK SANS belongs to @comyet ERROR SANS belongs to @loverofpiggies HORRORTALE belongs to @sour-apple-studios MURDER SANS belongs to @biozonic UNDERFELL belongs to the AU Community UNDERSWAP belongs to the AU Community

aaaaaaaaa, so many people!!!

Enjoy!

Timelines vs. Pets

Ink vs. Phantom (+ Cross)

 With a quick and precise movement, his wet paintbrush cut through the air, opening in front of him a dimensional slot.

"Are you leaving already?" He heard Blue ask joylessly.

Ink turned to his version in the Underswap timeline and smiled uncomfortably.

"Sorry," he said, Scratching his nape. "The party in celebration of the founding anniversary of New Home is very awesome, but it's time to go. I need to do some rounds out there and see if the other universes are doing as well as here. You understand, don't you?"

Blue's expression looked like a child who lost his favorite toy while playing in the playground, and that almost made Ink give up on leaving, but then the little one sincerely smiled at him.

"It's all right. This is important for you and for everyone, right?" He made a wide gesture with his arms, as if he wanted to show all the timelines that existed. "And it would not be cool to prevent our other friends from having your help"

"Thank you for understand." Ink gently placed his hand on Blue's shoulder. "And thanks also for inviting me to the party. I can't believe the city you guys founded after leave the Underground has now two years old!

"Mwehehe... We are thankful for your visit too! It's fun to have you around! You always have cool stories to tell us".

"You make me embarrassed", he laughed as well, a soft colored blush taking over his face. "Well, it's time. Until any day, Blue.

"Bye! Have a good trip!"

Waving, Ink entered the crack, leaving behind that timeline and falling into another. The cut he had done showed Blue on the other side waving for a few seconds after he passed and then closed. Ink was alone in another world now.

Let's see..., his heterochromatic eyes went through everything around him, collecting as much information as he could.

“Horrortale”, he thought out loud. "It seems to be as usual... But it's good to have a look around".

With his shoes sinking into the thick layer of snow, Ink walked through the morbid and silent Snowdin Forest. Everything looked the same as in all other alternative universes, but if you had enough time to watch more closely would notice its horrifying details. Especially the countless marks of blood and handfuls of dust scattered around; in the trees' trunks and leaves, in the snow where he stepped, on stones and benches... It was a little scary and could even cause him chills, but Ink didn't hate that universe, or even avoided visiting him. Instead, he really hoped that just as Underswap had found his peace and happiness, so Horrortale was.

But it looks like it will to take a while, he thought dejectedly.

Finding the lookout station a few meters ahead of him, Ink searched for Sans, another version of him, but a little more wacky.

"Someone here?" He called out loud, looking around. "Sans? Papyrus? Aliza?"

Silence.

Oookay, he thought, rather uneasily. Time to take a shortcut and see if I can find someone.

Ink was ready to go deeper into the Underground, until he heard a strange moan. He stopped what he was going to do, and squinted, looking for the sound.

Left, right, behind... Left again... Nothing.

One more cry, but now he could discern it better. It was the yelp.

"Oh, no!" He shouted when he saw, under a pine tree, the wounded body of a puppy.

Running to the little creature, he knelt in front of it, resisting the need to nestle it against his body, as it could worsen its delicate condition in the process.

The puppy's fur must have been white, but now it was filled with blood and dust. There was a cut on its ribs and its breathing was erratic.

Covered with concern and pity, Ink took his coat tied around his waist and, very carefully, took the animal's body and wrapped in it.

The patrol will have to stay for later, he thought, as one arm gently held the injured animal and the other wielded his brush.

Another cut in the air, a few steps and he was back to Underswap.

. . .

Blue was in a line to buy a hotdog when he saw Ink's silhouette walking through people and monsters celebrating New Home's birthday. The party in the main square of the city was far from over and he was glad to have his friend back.

"Hey, Ink, here!" He nodded, but unsuccessfully catching his attention.

Making a sulky face, Blue stepped out of the line and followed him.

"Ink! Ink!", He called him among the revelers.

When Ink finally noticed him, the expression on his face was of someone very, very worried.

"Glad I found you, Blue... I really need your help".

. . .

The celebration had lagged behind, and now four monsters and a human were clustered in Doctor Undyne's half-messy house, all somewhat concerned about the condition of the wounded puppy in the arms of the visitor of that universe.

"Where exactly did you find it?" The scientist asked, clumsily looking for the first aid kit she kept in the cabinet of her living room. "Were there any others with it?"

"I found it on another timeline... In one where monsters were still trapped in underground. And no, it was alone", Ink replied, his voice heavy with worry.

Feeling his sleeve's shirt being pulled, he noticed the human Chara at his side holding a cardboard box. They held out the object to him, the childish little face showing saddness for the little animal. Ink tried to give her a comforting smile and passed a hand over their head.

"Thank you, Chara", he said. "Sure our little friend is going feel a little better now that it has a good bed to rest on."

The human placed the box on the sofa in the living room and Ink put it inside, still wrapped in his coat. Papyrus approached, his hand on his chin and eyes semi-closed, watching him closely.

"It may be a "normal" dog, but it can also be a "monster" dog... There is dust and blood here, but we can't tell which one is from him and which is not", he mused. "We're going to try both treatments".

"Bandages and medicines for a regular dog", Undyne said, coming up with her first aid kit. "And only monster food if it's a monster dog. But even if it seems the simplest option, in such state it won't be easy to make it eat something"

Blue shown up with a red dish, where there was a piece of steak cooked in boiling water chopped into several small pieces.

"Wich are we going to do first?", he asked.

"If it's a normal animal and we don't do anything fast, it will die from blood loss. Let's take care of the bruises first", Ink declared and then glanced at Dr. Undyne. "I'll hold it, and you'll clean the wounds, can it be like this?"

"O-of course", she swallowed hard, feeling a little anxious about the great responsibility placed upon her.

"You want me to do it for you?" Papyrus rested a hand on her shoulder.

"I-It's fine! I used to took care of many monsters in Underground"

As soon as Ink put the puppy in his lap and took off the coat that wrapped around it, she knelt in front of him, ready to clean the injuries.

While she progressed with her care, Undyne called Blue.

"I think you might start trying feed him. Give very small pieces and make sure he is chewing well before giving another"

"Right!"

"He?" Inquired Chara, clinging to Papyrus's orange sweatshirt.

Undyne let herself smile a little, even if a little nervous.

"It's a little boy", she explained, glancing up at Ink. "You should already think of a good name for him, because I don't intend to let the worst happen."

For a moment he felt a small relieved and tenderly caressed the puppy's head.

"Do not give up, buddy, you're surrounded by people who want to help you get better"

Was a long and slow work, but two hours after bringing him there, the puppy was much better than in the beginning. But was quite strange how things happened. Both, the monsters' food, as known to instantly increase the HP of those who ingested it, and the bandages and medicine, had had an equal effect on the animal. There was no point in that, but after all that effort and worry, Ink could not be less concerned about the logic of the situation.

At the moment, then, all five were still in Dr. Undyne's living room, each occupying a different place. The house owner and Papyrus were seated at the dinner table, facing each other, Chara was kneeling on the floor, peering with curiously into the box they had brought, while Blue was sitting next to Ink, who was holding in his lap the improvised bed that the human had brought with good intentions for the little puppy.

"Well, wich name we shall give him?" Blue asked.

Ink stared at the rescued animal, focusing on the bandages that covered the deep cut on his ribs that had almost stolen his life. After so much suffering, now he was sleeping wrapped in a blue blanket given by the skeleton sitting beside Ink; the breathing was slow and deep.

"Snow?", Ink suggested, although not very satisfied. "What do you think, Chara?"

The human blushed slightly as they caught his attention, but considering his question.

"Mr. Fluffy?", they said, tilting their head to side.

"But what if he's grows big and fierce?" Ink joked, making they laugh.

The dog yawned in its box and started to move.

"Oh, that's a good sign," stated Papyrus, approaching with Dr. Undyne.

Five pairs of eyes were now watching him, curious to know what's gonna be the next movement of that animal they tried so hard to save its life.

A lazy moan of someone who had just awakened from a long and comfortable sleep, a slight wag of tail, and then ... He opened his eyes.

"Oooh, this is so cool!", Blue commented, excited.

Left red, right a brown so dark that looked black, the pup had heterochromia.

A name has formed on Ink's mouth.

"He's name is going to be Phantom", he said.

They all stared at him.

"Is that dark humor?" Papyrus laughed. "Go back to the puns, it suits your better"

Everybody giggled too.

"But is still a good name", Undyne commented.

"Absolutely cool!" Blue agreed, as Chara nodded.

"So that's it, Phantom" said Ink. "Guys... Thank you so much for helping me. Without you, I don't know what would had happen to us.

Phantom wagged his tail more vigorously, as if approving the name. Ink can only smile with relief and happiness.

In his chest, something seemed to happen. A sixth sense that tried to warn him that something good was coming.

"We're going to have so much fun together..."

. . .

 UNDERFELL AU - Underground

"NO, PHANTOM, NO!"

Ink was running until his bones were in pain and he teleported as much as his magic stock allowed, but none of that was enough to stop the wolf.

Yes, wolf. The puppy he had brought from Horrortale almost dead to his friends in Underswap, eight months later, as it grew up, soon turned out to be something much more "grand" than just a simple dog.

 "A wolf", Papyrus remarked, one hand on his chin and a cigarette between his teeth. "And the big ones".

Playing with Alphys and Blue, Ink watched the animal, which probably not even have one year old, but was big enough for a child to ride on it like a horse.

"And he will grows up even more," added Dr. Undyne, scared and admired at the same time.

Papyrus gave him a friendly nudge with his elbow.

"Congratulations, Ink. You got a great partner for your travels.

"Yes...", he replied, surprised and full of anticipation. "Is gonna be awesome"

 Well, it was really awesome for Ink travel with Phantom, however, he couldn't say if the other ones who they come across had the same opinion.

 All along the way, as the adrift wolf ran while throwing snow everywhere, Snowdin's inhabitants rushed desperately out of his reach, afraid of being a victim of his not-too-kind games. Exactly, those supposed violent monsters of Underfell were afraid of a white furball.

I have an idea, thought Ink.

Teleporting should be the most effective way to stop his wolf, but Phantom seemed to have sharpened senses, because every time Ink suddenly appeared in front of him, he was able to dodge him at the last second.

But Ink had a better idea.

Using the rest of his magic and another too many inaccurate calculations, he teleported to behind of Phantom, and flexing his knees, he shoot himself forward and grabbed Phantom's loins with all his strength.

Skeleton and wolf rolled through the snow, in a mixture of bones, paws, fur and pigments, that for those who watched was inpossible to distinguish owner of animal.

When that chaotic mass finally stopped, Phantom had all four paws in the air, fallen on Ink, who was still wrapped his arms around the wolf.

"You won't scape this time!" He proclaimed victorious.

"There you are!", he heard a rude voice shout.

Turning his head to the side, Ink saw Red approach. His skull carrying an expression of pure hatred and bloodthirsty rage.

"Oh, hi", the only thing got to say, sitting in the snow and still hugging the Phantom, now seated between his legs.

"Hi? HI?!", he shouted, pointing his finger at Ink. "To hell with your hi, colorful bastard!"

Coming to them, Frisk grabbed Red's waist, trying to stop him.

"Do you know what this... This wild animal did to me?!", he went on, not noticing the little human. "He had the damn courage to jump on me and chew on the bone of my leg like I was the remains of a greasy barbecue!"

"Please, Red, I'm sure it was unintentionally...", Ink tried. "Phantom just wanted to play with you."

"PLAY?!"

Ink felt that if Frisk wasn't holding him, just as he was doing to his wolf, Red would have already flown toward his neck trying to squeeze him.

"By chance dragging a monster around, like he did with me, for two miles it's a playing?! And, as if that weren't enough, he peed on my Gaster Blaster when I tried to annihilate him!"

"Ah, Red, you must agree with me that in this case it was self-defense".

He widened his eyes, shocked.

"SELF-DEFENSE?! HOW DO YOU DARE TO TELL ME THAT?!", He shouted. "ENOUGH! I'LL TURN YOU TWO INTO DUST AND THEN PISS ON IT!"

But before Ink had suffered a painful death, a tall and thin figure started to gat close to them with merciless steps. Red stopped in the same second and Ink swallowed hard.

"B-Boss..."

Papyrus pointed his clawed finger at Phantom.

"In consideration of the tiny human, the executions in the public square were banished from the Underground", he said quietly, but overflowing hatred and revenge. "But using the throne room garden as a bathroom was the last straw, colored copy. Either you disappear from here with this hairy abomination, or you two will become the first rule exceptions".

"It's understandable", Ink blurted out, breaking out in a cold sweat. "Come on, Phantom, I'll take you for a walk."

Cutting the air with his brush, he opened a crack in the game codes. Pushing his wolf to the other side, Ink looked one last time at the three of them.

"Hm... Sorry", and jumped in another AU.

When the crack closed, he let out a relieved sigh, looking at Phantom with an angry face.

"You were a very, very bad wolf. No nibbles for a whole week!

Phantom wagged his tail and barked. He seemed happy.

Another sigh, this time tired.

"You need to behave, buddy. Or you won't be able to make new friends to play with.

"So, what do we have here?"

Suddenly, Ink turned back, covering the Phantom figure with his own body. Slowly and unconcerned, Murder was coming toward him. His uneven-colored eyes and smirk accompanied him, giving shivers to anyone who dared to stare at him for a long time - if they survived to do so.

Ink was not entirely surprised by his presence, had actually chosen to come to Dusttale, after all, there was only one monster in the basement, which made the perfect AU to bring Phantom. But in a place as big as the Undergorund, it was really bad luck to fall just as near where Sans was.

"See you here makes me so happy", Murder said in his calm, languid voice. "Papyrus and I were getting bored here. You know, an empty Underground can be very, very lonely".

"Oh, sorry to disappoint you, Murder... But I'm just passing, so..."

But he kept coming toward Ink, always smiling, while bones with pointed ends started to materialize around him.

Until he suddenly stopped. The bones disappeared into the air and Murder stuck in place. He looked at something above Ink's shoulders.

"Get out of the way". he ordered.

"What?"

"Get out of the way, Ink".

But he didn't move.

"It's just my wolf, Murder... Please don't hurt him...".

"Get out of here now", he shot.

"Excuse me?", Ink blinked in disbelief.

"Don't you speak my languege, you pervert by colors?" He raised his voice for the first time, very angry. "I told you to leave. NOW".

"Okay, okay, I got it!"

Calling Phantom with a whistle, Ink opened another crevice with his brush and jumped into the next universe, leaving Murder behind.

With an absurdly tired sigh, he looked at his wolf.

"What are we going to do, eh? This way it's hard for both of us to travel"

"Look who we found here", Ink heard on his back, followed by a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"How's it going, buddy?"

He turned around, finding his original version next to his human, now 14 year-old.

"Hello, Sans. Hello, Frisk", Ink tried to smile, courteous, but also worried about the possible behavior his furry friend might adopt at any moment.

"Phantom!", exclaimed the human, throwing their arms around him and giving Phantom a big hug.

Luckily for Ink, his pet loved humans, or rather, human children. So maybe he should not worry so much.

"You don't look so good, man", Sans commented. "Some problem?"

"Kind of", Ink sighed for the ... Hundredth time? "I think you must know, I suppose".

"Oh, I wasn't going to comment about it, but since you raised the subject... Yes, the news that your wolf is a sort of public calamity has already spread through the multiverse".

"I'm not surprised".

Ink looked around, realizing that he had fall into the middle of a wooded park on the surface. As he found a bench, Ink walked up to it and sat down, very tired. Sans followed, standing beside him.

"You know, I love Phantom", he began. He needed to unburden. "Or rather, I love him unconditionally. He is a great friend and I am happy to have him as company throughout my travels... But I can't just let him wreak havoc on other people's lives. If it used to happen only sometimes... But everywhere we go he leaves a trail of destruction".

"I'm so sorry about it", Sans patted him on the back comfortably. "You said you found him as pup in the Horrortale universe, right? Why don't you try to go back there and find his family? I know it's going to be difficult for you, but I'm sure Phantom will be very happy to review his own family"

Ink was about to answer, but Frisk ran to them, their clothes covered with drool and mud, but also with a big smile on their face.

"I'm going to get a stick to play with the Phantom, okay?", She asked.

"Sure, kid" Sans replied, passing his hand over their head. "But don't go too far".

"Riiiight!".

The human ran across the park, looking for some twig and leaving Phantom alone a few feet from the bench, digging a huge hole in the well-trimmed lawn that covered the area.

"As I was saying", Ink resumed. "I already thought of that possibility, but I realized it would eventually lose its effect".

"Why?"

"Oh, how am I supposed to explain...? Do you know what are dimensional cracks?"

"I have a little notion, but since I've never seen one, I'm not sure if I can imagine how they exactly work"

"Very briefly, they are cracks in the codes that sustain each universe. It's like a hole that opens randomly inside a universe, momentarily creating a quick passage to another timeline. But, as I said, although it may be quite common to happen, these holes often appear in random locations and don't stay too long open. So, in general, hardly someone sees or perceives it happening. But for some reason Phantom has the odd ability to sniff these cracks. Then when he finds them, he simply passes them and falls into another alternate universe".

"Hey, Ink".

"That's why I can't leave him in another timeline, because one hour or another a crack will open and he'll find it... And escape into another universe".

"Ink, man..."

"What I really need is someone who shows authority and manages to train him"

"INK, just listen to me!", Sans shaken him. "I think he's doing it right now!"

"What?"

Ink looked at where Phantom was digging his hole, just as the wolf jumped unceremoniously into a dimensional slot that had opened in front of them.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

He even tried to run, but was too late, the wolf by the crack had completely disappeared, causing Ink to fall on the ground.

"No, no, no, no, no!"

Sans hurried to him, helping Ink to his feet.

"What do I do now?! What do I do now?!", he shouted in despair.

"Hey, calm down!", Sans grabbed him by the shoulders. "You travel by the timelines, it will be easy to capture him back".

"EASY?! Do you know how many alternate universes are there?! Thousands! And Phantom will destroy each one of them! Ah, no... I can already imagine the wanted posters and the headlines in the newspapers "MAD WOLF SOW CHAOS". It's the end! It's the end! And all because I wasn't a good enough to train..."

Sans slapped him in the face.

"Dude, seriously, you have to control yourself. Especially before..."

Ink tried to cover his mouth, but he wasn't fast enough, he threw up a gush of black paint on Sans' clothes.

"Before it happens..."

"Sorry", Ink apologized, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"Don't worry"

Sans took a deep breath, then stared at his alternate version.

"My suggestion: start with the universes that you have acquaintances, because it will be easier to obtain information if Phantom has showed up there. And either try to contact other friends who also have the habit of traveling through the timelines. The more people trying to find him, better. You understood me?"

"Yes, yes, traveling, finding friends", Ink repeated, half disoriented. "I got it".

"And I know I'm being repetitive, but you really have to calm down. No wonder the wolf is anxious, he is just like you"

"IT'S ALL MY FAULT, I KNEW IT!"

"Shit", Sans cursed.

. . .

The hollow noise echoed again as Ink knock on his forehead against the wooden table for the thirtieth time. Sitting both beside him, the Underswap brothers tried to comfort him in some way.

"I don't know what to do anymore...", Ink sighed, raising his head. "About finding Phantom and how to train it. You know, he may be very messy, but he's a great mascot. Outside Red, he has never really tried to hurt anyone. Not to mention he loves kids! Phantom can get along with any Frisk and Chara. Even Aliza, who is afraid of almost everything, likes him".

"You'll find him, Ink, I'm sure", Blue hugged him. "And you'll find a way to make him behave, too. You always get a creative solution to the problems".

"Oh, thanks", Ink smiled at him, happy to have a good friend. "To be honest, it's very lonely to be without him. It's good have company while I travel, you know? Doing this kind of thing always alone, as I've been doing, can sometimes be very difficult".

Blue gave him another hug, this time tighter.

"And that's why I believe at some point you two will meet again! Phantom probably just thinks you are playing hide and seek".

Ink let himself laugh.

"I hope so".

After drinking some coffee with cookies offered by Papyrus, Ink thanked them and left the brothers' house, ready for another trip in search of his wolf.

"Oh, thanks", Ink smiled at him, happy to have a good friend. "To be honest, it's very lonely to be without him. It's good have company while I travel, you know? Doing this kind of thing always alone, as I've been doing, can sometimes be very difficult".

Blue gave him another hug, this time tighter.

"And that's why I believe at some point you two will meet again! Phantom probably just thinks you are playing hide and seek".

Ink let himself laugh.

"I hope so".

After drinking some coffee with cookies offered by Papyrus, Ink thanked them and left the brothers' house, ready for another trip in search of his wolf.

He was crossing the lawn, already preparing to take the brush he carried on his back and open a portal, when he felt something curl up around his wrists and ankles and then pull out suddenly.

The image of Underswap's universe was rapidly receding before his eyes, as he felt himself being dragged by a dimensional crevice, and then fall on the ground.

Stunned, Ink sat down. He was in another universe, though he did not know which. But how did he get there?

So he looked to the right, seeing Error standing by his side.

"ERROR!", Ink cried out, standing up and throwing himself on him with outstretched arms. "I need your help!".

The destroyer of universes, however, moved to the side with a face of pure disgust, turning away from Ink and his irritating euphoria.

"No. Touching", he hissed.

"Oh, Error, I need your help so bad. My wolf is missing!"

"Don't you think I already know? All over the multiverse people only talk about him and the trail of chaos he leaves behind".

"Don't tell me that", Ink put his hand over his face, closing his eyes tightly. "I don't know what else to do. Phantom is kind and brave, besides always keep me company, but things can't stay like that... And I think the real guilty for his bad behavior it's me, because sometimes I feel like being always traveling from universe to universe stresses him, and he needs to find a way to calm down. But I need to keep following from one timeline to another, so I don't know what I can do to help him... Oh, Error, I want so bad find a solution to this dilemma".

Ink breathed in, deep, finally staring at him.

"I'm so lost".

Error, who had been listening to him impatiently and with his arms crossed, rolled his eyes, also sighing.

"Finished?"

"Yes", said Ink. "Thank you for listening to me".

"You are welcome", he said wryly. "Now that the pitch a fit is over, can you answer me one thing?".

"Of course".

"If it's for the good of your lunatic wolf, would you agree to leave things as they are?"

"All I want is to Phantom be happy, Error. But frankly, I didn't understand what you meant".

"Follow me", he said harshly, turning his back on and starting to walk.

Ink followed, walking right next to him.

"Too close", Error complained, putting one step away between them.

"Sorry".

More calm, Ink stopped for the first time to observe which alternative universe he was inside. Since he wasn't the one who opened the portal, he wasn't sure which was, but by the blue summer sky above their heads and the sea to their left, he believed they were in a world where monsters and humans had once again lived side by side .

"Error, where are...".

He stopped talking, surprised by the image that came into his eyes.

They were both walking along an apparently empty beach, but many feet ahead, he saw Cross sitting on the sand watching the waves and... With Phantom lying quietly on his lap. The soft wind of the sea swinged his white fur, and Cross was making a tender caress on his head.

And Phantom looked absolutely in peace.

He was quiet and comfortable, enjoying the pleasant weather that surrounded them.

"How is this possible...?", Ink couldn't believe in what he saw.

"I found him a week ago", said Error. "Apparently, in his first encounter with Cross, he stole his scarf and buried it somewhere, but I don't know how, shortly thereafter they began to get along very well".

"Oh", was all he could say.

Phantom finally noticed them, or smelled, and stood up, wagging his tail. Cross looked at his direction just as the wolf began to run to Ink.

He knelt down to greet his canine friend and hugged him as owner and pet finally reunited.

"How long, my friend", he said, feeling melancholy and happy in equal parts.

"Hello to both of you", Cross greeted with his serious way of act, reaching them. "Is he yours?

Error gave no sign of care to say something.

"So so", Ink lied, standing up. "I found him wounded in another universe and I was trying to find a good owner for him. You know, living always traveling is not easy, so I guess I can't keep him. Wanna adopt Phantom?"

Cross studied him carefully, frowning.

"I know you travel, too, but it's less often than I do. I think this quieter routine suits him better. Phantom likes to travel, but he needs some quiet... And that's the kind of thing I saw when I got here and watched him resting with you"

"Hm, I have admit he's a good fighter", pondered Cross. "And also brave".

"And you have a steady hand", Ink added. "I bet he respects you a lot".

He thought for a few moments, until he made up his mind.

"It's fine for me. But what about you?".

Ink tried his best to fake a carefree smile.

"That would make me very happy and relieved. It was on time for this big boy here to find a good mate".

Returning his knees to the sand, he gave one last, big, tight hug to Phantom, burying his face in his soft fur. The white threads tickled his skull, and the warmth of that big wolf heated his clothes and bones up. He would really miss the comfort that Phantom brought to his days.

Finally releasing him, Ink stood up.

"Thank you", he managed to say. It could be to Cross, or to the wolf... He couldn't say. And it didn't matter.

"I was waiting for the sunset" ,Cross broke the uncomfortable silence that started to grew up in the group. "I heard that in this universe it's especially beautiful. Wanna join us?"

"Pass", Error replied without bluntly, before even thinking about the proposal.

"I'm sorry", Ink said, half embarrassed. "I need to solve some issues that can't be left for later. But thanks"

"I understand", Cross did't insist.

"Well... That's it... It was good our time together, Phantom. You will be fine. This guy can be really cool when he wants to. And behave yourself, okay?"

The wolf barked and wagged his tail.

"Okay, I got tired, I'm leaving now", Unceremoniously, Error turned his back on them and started to walk away.

Ink gave a slightly uncomfortable smile.

"I think I'll take a ride with him", he said, scratching the back of his neck. "See you guys around!"

As Cross gave goodbye wave, Ink hurried to reach Error, trying hard to not look back.

"Argh, aren't you going to cry, right?", He spoke in disgust as Ink approached.

"Hahahaha, of course not!", he laughed, wiping his face quickly with the sleeve of his blouse.

"Weak".

Error stopped, extending his arm to open a new portal. When Ink looked in he saw something waiting for them.

"Is that a cat?", He asked, pointing to the amber-eyed feline figure.

"It's none of your business", he cut off. "Come in or open your own portal".

"Right, right"

They both passed through the portal, but before Error closed it, Ink glanced behind one last time, watching Cross and Phantom walk side by side along the beach. In fact, watching from afar, they seemed to complete each other very well.

Knowing that made him smile.

"Goodbye, buddy", he said softly. "I will miss you".

And then the portal closed.

AUTHOR’S FINAL NOTES:

Portuguese is a mess English is a mess This text is a mess And "me is" a mess

Sorry if my bad, very very very bad English, has offended you. I'm not trying to hurt your eyes. Really.

But, whatever, I loved to write this mess. I loved to play Ink, Error and Cross. I thought it would be hard, but I really loved. I do not know how to explain, it just brought me a feeling of happiness and familiarity.

This idea come from a headcanon about Cross. I don't know why, but he always reminds me a white wolf... And then I just felt I had to write about it. But I don't know why, Ink just turned into the protagonist of this chapter and Cross just appear in the end. But I still want to write about those two okay? I just need the right inspiration.

So, just as me, I hope you had some fun here, okay? Thanks for read this big mess.

As you may have noticed, it is a collection, so we will have a chapter for each Sans with a different pet. However, my priority is my AU, so I can not say it will have a frequent update. But whenever I get a new inspiration, I'll try to write, okay?

BUUUUT, I already know which pet I will gave for some alternatives Sans. You can check some of then I the index (ut just which sans). But if you are one of the owers just ask and I will tell you. 

[askaphmaine]

I feel like I should preface this with who some characters are. Angel is Providence, Harold is Hartford, Harrison is Harrisburg. As for why I have Harrisburg and Providence together, they’re married in my Tomogachi Life game, where Providence refuses to have un-dyed hair and they look cute. Fight me.

****************************************************************************************************

“I invited the Azrailite royal family.”

“You WHAT!?” If anyone currently in the room was later asked about the incident, they would deny that the youngest prince of Sachh had spoken while taking a bit of food and had absolutely not spit half of it across the table.

“I said, I invited Queen Mackenzie of Azrail, along with anyone she deemed important.” King Lance sighed, watching Anthony’s bewildered expression. “They may not come. You know how little Azrail interacts with the rest of the world. Please calm down. Having them join us is not the end of the world.” For once, Anthony seemed to have no retort. While the party may be for his birthday, it was still a political event. Even he couldn’t truly pick the guest list.

“I understand.” A silence found its way to the table as the royal family of Sachh continued to eat their supper, Prince Anthony almost looking guilty at his earlier outburst. A smirk made its way to the older prince’s face.

“Hey, who knows! Maybe the queen will bring your ~true love~!” With that comment, a full fight broke out between the princes of Sachh. If anyone asked later, they didn’t fight at all. Nope. King Lance sighed, watching the window.

****************************************************************************************************

“My lady, a letter addressed to you has arrived from the Kingdom of Sachh.” Michael strode into the room, keeping his arms firmly behind his back. Sitting with his sister was the so-called ‘terrifying’ queen of Azrail. Sipping on a cup of tea. Watching birds and playing chess. Terrifying.

“I see. Can you read it to me? I don’t want to glance away. Kaylee is much too skilled for me to take any chance.” He felt his eyes rolls as his sister giggled, everyone in the room knowing full well that she was terrible at chess.

“You just want to ignore the letter. Regardless, I’ll give you a brief summary. The youngest prince of Sachh, Prince Anthony, is going to be celebrating his birthday and you’ve been invited. Well, technically the entire royal family has been, along with anyone you deem important enough to attend.”

“Send them my regrets-“

“With all due respect, my lady, you’ve been queen for around 12 years now and not once have you met with any other kingdom. While I do understand, out people have been treated awfully while on vacation and such. By awfully, I mean some have been attacked. I think its time the royal family showed themselves if only to try and disperse any rumors. We just need to write back how many people from our kingdom will be attending.”

“Michael, I take full offense to anything and everything you say. But I do see your point. Well, seeing as the want they whole royal family, myself and both princes would have to be in attendance. That’s 3. Both you and Caroline are important advisors, so that’s 5. Lucas’ wouldn’t go anywhere without his retainers, so both Monty and Conner will attend as well. That’s 9-“

“7, my lady.” Kaylee piped up.

“If you think Jacob and Liam will let their little brothers go to Sachh unattended, then you don’t know them very well.”

“Ah, that’s true. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“No harm done. Now, Aaron’s retainers will not let him go anywhere without them, so both Angel and Harold will attend as well. Luckily, their brothers are much more lenient. They might even be grateful for the break. Conrad I know will be. How many is that?” Kaylee thought for a moment.

“11, my lady. The list would be you, Prince Lucas, Prince Aaron, Michael, myself, Monty, Liam, Conner, Jacob, Angel, and Harold. Does that seem correct?”

“Yes, that seems perfect. Hopefully, the king of Sachh agrees. And isn’t a brat about it.” Even Michael forced down a giggle.

“I will respond to the king at once. A thank you for the invite, the number of guests that will be arriving from Azrail, who they are, and so on. Shall I include anything else?”

“No, I think that’s fine. Hopefully, Kaylee is up to the task of preparing my brothers for the event. I don’t know much about the customs in Sachh, but if they start a war, well… Let’s just say I will not be happy.” With that, the temperature dropped, frost forming on the window.

“Of course, my lady. And I will make sure to pass the threat on.” Dark magic joined the frost, scaring off any remaining birds.

“Good. Now, go write the letter, Michael. Oh, but don’t include names. We’ll introduce ourselves once we arrive. No point doing it early. And please begin teaching the princes, Kaylee. I enjoy peace. I really do.”

****************************************************************************************************

“The queen of Azrail has accepted my invitation and has 10 guests arriving with her, bringing the total amount of Azrailites to 11.”

“WHAT?”

****************************************************************************************************

20 minutes after the party began, Anthony was relieved to see that none of the Azrailites had arrived. Maybe, just maybe, they had decided to not come at all. His hopes were dashed when a cold wind began to blow through the ballroom.

“I apologize for our tardiness. A storm began to brew right as we left and caused a delay.” A woman proudly strode forward, hands clasped behind her back, under a thick cloak lined with fur. “I suppose we’re too late for proper introductions.”

“Of course not, madam.” King Lance rose, motioning for her to speak. “We would love to properly know who has graced us with their presence.”

“I see. I am Queen Mackenzie of Azrail. The two boys on either side of me our my younger brothers, Prince Lucas and Prince Aaron.” As the intimidating woman motioned to the similarly dressed boys, Anthony let his gaze linger on Prince Aaron. “As for the man and woman behind me, they are known as Michael and Caroline. Siblings, they serve as two of my advisors.” Anthony glanced at his brothers, noting the interested look on Hudson’s face. Seemed he liked what he saw, watching ‘Caroline’ with glee.

“And those behind the princes? Are they advisors as well?”

“No, not all of them. The four standing right behind the princes are their retainers. The two behind Prince Aaron are known as Angel and Harold, while Prince Lucas has Monty and Conner. The last two, Liam and Jacob, are close friends of mine and are Monty and Conner’s older brothers respectively.”

“It is my honer to meet you all and to thank you for attending. Welcome to the Kingdom of Sachh.” With that, the cold wind let up, turning many’s attention back towards the music.

****************************************************************************************************

For the rest of the night, Anthony found it impossible to look away from Prince Aaron. The way the other boy moved when dancing captivated him. Though the sight was marred by jealousy towards a certain light-haired girl. Angel. She didn’t seem all that bad, honestly. She just took up a lot of the Azrailite Prince’s attention.

Anthony’s own retainer, Harrison, seemed just as annoyed, though for different reasons. The girl’s changing hair colored interested him. Blue to purple to pink to blonde and back again. Hell, the girl’s giddy outlook interested him. How could she be from a place thought to be so evil?

A sigh escaped Anthony’s lips. Prince Aaron had just lifted Angel with ease, stepping perfectly in time. Why did the prince of evil need to tempt him so? Glancing away, he noted that Hudson had found his way over to Miss Caroline, much to her ire. He felt pity for her, to be honest. Hudson was known to think he was smooth when he really wasn’t At the same time, Anthony couldn’t help but notice the slight flush on her cheeks. An elbow in his side tore him from the scene across the ballroom. Glancing in front of him, Anthony was shocked to see Prince Aaron standing there.

“Excuse me, your grace, but my retainer, Angel, was wondering if she might be allowed to dance with your…?” A vague hand motion towards his side answered the question of whom the invitation was for.

“Ah, you must mean Harrison. He is my retainer as well. Well?” Anthony turned to look at his childhood friend with interest.

“Oh, um, I suppose so. I’m not a great dancer, I must warn you.” A giggle cut in.

“So? Dancing should be fun! Not perfect!” With a grin and bright pink hair, Angel skipped forward, pulling Harrison’s arm. The two vanished onto the floor, leaving the youngest princes alone.

“Oh, excuse my rudeness. Would you like a seat, Prince Aaron?”

“Hm? Oh, no, I’m fine. Don’t worry yourself too much.” For a moment, Anthony almost heard some emotion in Prince Aaron’s voice. The carefully kept look, however, made no move to change. “I must ask, and I hope this isn’t considered ‘rude’ in Sachh or is a custom I am unaware of, but why are you just sitting here?”

“That’s not rude at all. I simply haven’t been asked to dance, so I’ve been watching everyone else.” He was lying and he knew it. A couple of women had approached him with the request, though he turned them down. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the very person he was conversing with.

“I…see. I hope I’m not overstepping here, but perhaps you should’ve approached someone. I mean, you seemed quite interested in how Angel and I were dancing, much too much to accept any invitations. One of us would be glad to teach you, just so you know.” He was caught. That was the only thought going through Anthony’s mind. He had been caught staring and lying. Glancing at the Azrailite, he noticed what appeared to be a small smirk resting on his lips. Anthony felt a small smile rest on his.

“I suppose you’re right. Well then, Prince Aaron,” He stood, “may I have this dance?” He held out his hand, waiting for a response.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you afraid someone will be afraid for you, should you dance with an Azrailite?” Anthony almost wanted to punch his pretty face for the teasing tone.

“If they feel that way, perhaps they should start with my brother. He seems to have quite the interest in Miss Caroline.”

“Who? Oh, you mean Kaylee. It’s so weird hearing her full name. But, I suppose you do have a point. Shall we?” With that, the youngest princes of Sachh and Azrail began their dance.

****************************************************************************************************

After the party finally ended, King Lance oversaw his handiwork. His youngest brother was currently curled up against the youngest prince of Azrail’s chest, fast asleep. Hudson had finally gotten the Azrailite Advisor, ‘Kaylee’ as he had come to learn she preferred to be called, to dance with him. The two were currently sitting on the windowsill, with Kaylee describing how the stars look in her homeland. Harrison and Angel were near their lieges, with the smaller girl resting her head on Harrison’s shoulder.

“I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to have any fun once we arrived. I do apologize for lying, though.”

“I know the storm did not slow down your group, Queen Mackenzie. I take no offense.”

“Mack. I go by Mack. If you wish to address me formally, Queen Mack is better.”

“I understand. I have to ask, did you mean to cause the room to drop in temperature?”

“Oh, of course! My siblings and I are known for, ahem, ‘dramatic effect’. Hopefully, your youngest brother is able to handle that.”

“He grew up with Hudson. He can handle it.”

“Then I look forward to speaking with you more. We have much to talk about, especially with the current state of relations our people have.”

“I agree. Perhaps next time we could meet in Azrail. I must admit, I’m interested in seeing the night sky there.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Azrail is not known to be a welcoming land. While I may have mentioned that the storm was not as bad as I made it out to be, someone unprepared would not have made it to the eye, let alone the other side. Regardless, if Thana permits it, Azrail would be honored to have you visit.”

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[5hfanfiction]

The Price We Pay (Chapter Two)

Her missions tended to be very similar in what she was supposed to do and how was to do it. Her master would give her a folder with all of the target’s information, and she would kill them. It was a simple as that. Those are the missions she enjoyed the least; uncomplicated, easy missions, where she could summon a few arrows and the target would be dead.

Her favorite missions, on the other hand, were like the one she was currently assigned to, where master chose to sell her services to someone else who required her specific set of skills.

She’d be away from the manor for some time now, enjoying her faux freedom in a different city, away from the prying eyes of her master. He’s been different recently since she gave him that letter a week ago, locking himself in his office. She’s found him in Lauren’s old bedroom on many different occasions now as well. Something was going on that he was keeping from her. She didn’t care too much; he was her master, so she would never question him.

“Have you ever been to Miami?” The older man, Richard Mathers, sitting across from her asked as they waited for the private plane to take off. They’ve been on the tarmac for hours now, or it could have only felt that way given the way the pervy man would not stop eyeing her muscled body. It didn’t matter though; if he got too close she could easily handle him. Hell, she could easily handle anyone. She thinks he knows that since he hadn’t made a single move to get closer even though the stewardess has left them alone for some time now. “It’s a beautiful city full of beautiful people. A lot of gorgeous Mexican girls like yourself, chica.”

“I’m not Mexican.” She replied flatly, watching as finally, finally, the light to buckle up popped on and they started moving a few minutes later. She’d been irritable ever since her master had told her where, exactly, she’d been going on the mission. Usually, she loved these missions to get away from everything back home, but not when they brought her to Miami. “I’m from Cuba.”

“Same difference, gorgeous.” His teeth were too white when his lips pulled back in a grimy smile, his skin way too  wrinkle free for his age to be anything other than Botox. “Mexican is Mexican, baby. Now, why don’t you come over here and show me how those Mexican girls move their hips?”

Summoning her abilities came as naturally as breathing now. All it took was slowing her breathing and envisioning the arrow forming in her hand. She knew her eyes flashed white based on how Richard’s own dark eyes flashed in fear and his gaze jerked to the arrow in her hand. Behind that fear though, she could see a hint of awe. “He must not have seen someone use their abilities up close like this”, she thought. Cockily, she gave him a challenging smirk and said, “Why don’t you come here and I’ll show you what else I can move so well?”

Richard was scared into silence for only a moment before a large smile overtook his tan face, clapping and laughing loudly. Clearly, he was pleased. “I knew I picked the right sorceress for the job! Michael talked very highly of you, and I knew you could get the job done right! But seeing it in person… wow!” He paused, and then softer, with more compassion than Camila thought possible coming from a man like him, he said, “Your price is a steep one, then?” and lightly touched the side of his mouth, where Camila could feel blood beginning to leak out of. She’d tasted the copper liquid seconds ago, but let it dribble out to prove another point to him. It was a stupid waste of her powers, a stupid move on her part to waste precious blood, but- fuck it. “I have a daughter only a few years younger than you. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if she had abilities like yourself.”

“Would you exploit her as you exploit our services? This is not your first time using my master’s organization.” Camila kept her gaze on the window, watching the clouds fly by them as the stewardess finally passed, and handed her a napkin for her mouth. The blood had stopped flowing, but she let it stain her jaw, let it coat her lips. She had grown to love the taste of blood. When Richard didn’t answer, she mumbled, “I couldn’t imagine not having abilities. I pity the people who are normal.”

-

“I have no interest in knowing why you want this person taken care of. All I care about is getting the job done and getting the money from it,” Camila shrugged as they sat in the hotel room Richard had rented for her. She’d be spending a week in Miami most likely, as this wasn’t a typical kill and leave sort of mission. She’d been picked to gather intel for her master and client as well- on a topic she had no idea of. Which annoyed her, but she’d never complained. She’d figure it out in time. “I’ll need a few days to figure out his basic schedule- who he talks to the most and where he frequents. I’ll gather as much information as I can. Most likely I will kill him in his office, that way I’ll have immediate access to his files. Men like him tend to work late hours; it shouldn’t be hard to get him alone late one night.”

Richard stood off to the side, a glass of brandy in hand as he cocked his head at the seventeen-year-old girl before him. She was.. magnificent in the worst of ways, a thunderstorm about to burst. He has never met anyone like her before and knew she’d be able to get his job done expertly and swiftly. He had never been more impressed and scared by a child. There was an ounce of pity in him towards the girl though, especially as he looked at the part of her chin still stained red. He’s seen steep prices before, but he couldn’t imagine vomiting blood after summoning just one arrow.

“Do you have something to say, Mr. Mathers?” The girl smirked without looking at him, focusing instead on the papers scattered chaotically across the coffee table. She had gotten to work right away, opening all the files Richard had given her and beginning to plan the assassination. Michael had promised it would be in less than ten days, a rather impressive feat given how much had promised his sorceress to handle. “Because if you do not, I do not need the distractions. I have to get started.” She stood, moving to a suitcase stored by the front door that Richard knew held her suit and any supplies she may need. The benefit of using Sorcerer Assassin’s over humans was they needed very little tools other than their own abilities. “I will call you in two days, Mr. Mathers. Do not contact me first- do not come see me either. You took a risk even following me into this hotel room. The less contact we have the better. Just in case.”

“Are you expecting there to be issued, Miss. Camila?” Richard smirked more, toying with the girl, not bothering to hide his attraction towards her. She was unique. Utterly exquisite.

“I have come so far because I don’t let anything to take me by surprise. I expect the worst every time and produce the best results. So leave, Mr. Mathers, before I decide you are worth more to me skinned than alive.” He said nothing in response, and a moment later Camila heard footsteps against the dark wood of the floor followed by the door easing shut, and she let loose a breath. That man bothered her more than she cared to admit, and she was looking forward to a few days of moving through the city without him shamelessly ogling her.

Even if the city was fucking Miami.

Camila was ten when Michael Jauregui found her, lost and crying on the streets because she had fucked up so bad. The boy was barely breathing when she ran from the birthday party, panicked and terrified over having hurt her friend. Everyone was too stunned to do anything other than stand there as Camila took off, but she heard the boy’s mother screaming for help, and then heard her own mother calling her name. As she ran, blood suddenly filled her mouth, and she had to heave into a gutter. It was so much… and even at ten years old she knew something was not right. They’ve lived in the same house ever since they immigrated here from Argentina five years ago, and so she grew up running through this neighborhood with the other kids, knew all the best hiding spots for hiding and seek. Her parents didn’t stand a chance to find her, especially when she ran into the trees.

She had been looking for the rundown tree house they typically used to hide in, but most have gone down the wrong path or something because before she knew it the sun was setting and she was exiting the woods into a bustling shopping center. Camila had frequented with her mother and baby Sofia multiple times, but even then she didn’t know how to get back home and didn’t know if she should go back home.

Her parents were going to be furious at her, she just knew it. They had told her time and time again that weapons were very dangerous and she should never ever touch one. She has no idea how the arrow ended up in hand, sleek and black and surprisingly light, but it appeared just as she flung her arm out in the middle of her stupid temper tantrum and-

The boy screamed as he fell.

Camila couldn’t imagine her parents being anything other than completely horrified like she currently was. So she decided right then and there she would not be going home. It was a rash and poor decision made by a scared ten years old terrified of being punished over something she had no idea how she did it, and it didn’t take long to realize her mistake. People kept staring at her as she walked by almost in a daze, and a few women stopped to ask if she needed help. Every time that happened she took off running in a different direction. Before long, she was in a part of town she had never seen before. It was there that she passed a window and saw her reflection, and finally understood why everyone kept staring at her.

There was blood on her chin, nearly brown now from having been drying for hours, and stark against the pink frills of her top. It was a birthday gift from her father, one he had given her this morning to wear for her party, and she been insistent not to spill anything on it. Now it was completely ruined, because something did not right happen to her and she’s crying again as she slumped against the rough brick of the shop, nearly deserted now as the center had closed for the night. Camila didn’t know what she was going to do, didn’t know where she was going to go. Just that she could never go home and-

“Are you lost?”

Camila’s father had taught her about stranger-danger, had drilled the concept into her head so many times it was instinct at this point to run from the man crouching down before her, his head cocked to the side as he stared at her.

Yes, it was instinct to run, but- she just didn’t have the energy anymore. Instead, she sat there, tears mixing with the dried blood as the man waited for an answer, but Camila looked to the person standing slightly behind him.

They looked too similar to be anything other than father and daughter, with the same dark hair and facial features. The girl was most likely around Camila’s age, dressed in black shorts and some type of jersey, she smiled at Camila, saying, “You aren’t hurt.” Her voice was raspy even for a child, low and rough and all too knowing as the smile stayed in place. “The blood is yours but you aren’t hurt.”

“I.. It came from my mouth and I.. I… I’m scared!” She finally sobbed, jerking her legs up and hiding her face in her knees as she cried, her small body shaking. It was just the three of them now, and the unknown girl stepped closer, still smiling and placed a soft hand on Camila’s shoulder. “I… I hurt Jacob! It was. It was an accident, I swear!”

“I bet it was,” The man said gently, moving slightly closer as he forced her to look at him, a charming smile on his face. Camila was calmed slightly just staring into his dark eyes, feeling her mind go kind of blank and her shoulders relax. She doesn’t know when she stopped crying, but the man wiped her tears, never breaking eye contact as he said, “I understand what happened- we both understand,” he gestured to his daughter who nodded as he continued, “but no one else will. Your parents will hate you for what you did. Your friends will be scared of you. Jacob will never forgive you. Do you believe me?”

She did, she did, she did. With everything in her being, she believed him, unable to stop herself from nodding. It was as if she could think of nothing else but the man before her, and for some reason, she could not look away from his eyes. They were… white, and while she should be scared, there was nothing but.. but peace in her mind as the man kept talking.

“Come with us, and I can teach you how to control your abilities so you never unintentionally harm someone again. I can give you a home since your parents will not want you back. Will you come with us?” The girl was nodding her head to get to Camila to agree, and it felt as if she didn’t have the ability to say no as she took the man’s hand, allowed him to pull her up, and she followed them to the black town car waiting down the block. Little did she know that life as she knew it would change completely from just one conversation.

It had taken her some time after her admittance to the organization to understand Michael had used his abilities to get Camila to follow him, but she did not hate him for it.

As she stood and grabbed what she needed to begin tailing her target, she smiled to herself.

Joining Myriad had been the best thing to ever happen to her.

She was made to be a killer.

It just took accidentally throwing an arrow into a boy’s chest when she was ten to realize that.

It has been seven years, almost eight now since she fled her childhood home under fear of punishment, and she scarcely returns since, and when she has she goes out of her way to avoid Palmetto Beach. The chances are very slim that she’d run into her parents, but. there has always been something holding her back, a weakness she could never shake.

She avoids Carlton too.

Camila returned to Miami for the first time since she left when she was fourteen, on a mission with none other than Lauren. It was only a few months before her death, and while it was a mission that had both girls returning to their hometown, Camila has never had more fun in her life. She had been hesitant to board the plane to Florida, but. Lauren made it better.

Lauren had always made things better.

Michael had assigned Lauren to watch over Camila as this was the younger girl’s first big mission. He wasn’t completely confident the fourteen-year-old could do what needed to be done, so he sent Lauren to chaperone. The two girls sat on the plane, Lauren explaining softly what needed to be done and Camila sitting tensely, and when they landed Lauren gave their driver directions to a location that most definitely was not their rendezvous point.

“What… what are you doing?” Camila frowned as the bustling city faded from tightly formed houses and shops to larger manors separated for privacy, the car moving through a gated community after stopping to talk to security. This definitely wasn’t on their list of what needed to be done today, but Camila was interested nonetheless. “Where are we?”

“A little outside of Carlton,” Lauren said simply, a soft smile on her face as the town car rolled to a stop in front of a large house at the top of a hill, no cars in the driveway but a full garden of roses and a swing hanging from the wrap around porch. “This is my house.”

“What?” She had known Lauren spent the early part of her life in Miami, though she didn’t know it was here. These were the nicest houses Camila had ever seen in their city, especially since she had grown up in the rather poorer side of Miami. Her mother spoke very little English, and worked odd jobs here and there, while her father worked construction for a small company. She shouldn’t be surprised that Lauren lived this sort of lifestyle, given that Michael had always been a very skilled assassin.

Before taking over Myriad, Michael had been the previous Master’s right-hand man, working hard to earn the respect that title came with before his own Master was murdered and Michael took over.

“Well… it was before we moved to New York. My father bought it as a wedding gift for my mother.” The green eyed girl didn’t make a move to exit the car, and Camila couldn’t help but wonder if they would be getting closer, or if this was as close as Lauren ever allowed herself to get to her childhood home.

Camila couldn’t stop looking at the large mansion style home with large pillars in the front. It was easy to imagine a young Lauren running around the porch, jumping from the steps into the grass. She pictured a happy family, perhaps a sprinkler in the yard that little Lauren could run through while Michael and her mother watched with smiles on their faces. “Why did you leave?”

“My father couldn’t live in my mother’s house anymore. I was three when she died; six when we moved.” That must have been around the time Michael’s master died then, Camila supposed. What betters a time to start over in New York than then, especially with nothing left truly holding him back in Florida. “I come back here every time I’m in Miami, trying to.. I don’t know, remember her, I guess? It was her face I forgot first, did you know that? I couldn’t remember the shape of her nose, if she had lips like mine, or.. or, I don’t even know. Sometimes I still hear her voice when I’m sleeping, but I don’t know if it’s really her voice or what I imagine it to sound like if that makes sense?”

It does, very much so. Camila had been gone from her own home for four years now, but she still thinks of her family often. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of what it would be like if her family was actually dead and not just dead to her. “I understand, Lauren.” She had always understood her best friend.

A sudden ringing brought Camila out of her musing as she looked down to her phone, forcing her back into the present as she accepted the unsaved number, recognizing it immediately as Ally’s. They all took prepaid phones on missions, but Camila had all the important numbers memorized.

“Yeah?” She knew it had to be something important if Ally was calling during a mission, possibly risking the entire operation if Camila had been in the middle of something important. Luckily she was simply walking the streets, slowly making her way to the target’s office to scope him out.

“Camila…” Ally was too soft for this game, too nice and loving, more so than Lauren had always been, but even then Camila had never heard her be so quiet, so hesitant as she said her name. Something had happened, something big. “I can’t say much right now, and I can’t explain how I know, but I need you to believe what I’m about to say.”

“I’m in the middle of a mission; I don’t have a lot of time, so you need to make it quick.” She had reached the large building that housed the target’s office, and stopped across the street, staring up at the top floor where she knew the man to be.

“Lauren is alive, Camila.”