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thiniceofeternalyouth · 4 months

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MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER SIX

WISH UPON A PAPER PLANE [1 pt.]

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Chapter warning&tags : ooc, slight manga spoilers, profanity, mentions of alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, touch-starved!Gojo, slight yandere themes (if you squint);

Words count: ~15k

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[Nov 23, 2019; 10:51pm; hunter's headquarters]

You stared at the contents of the refrigerator in bewilderment. You closed the door and immediately opened it again trying to make sure you weren't crazy. All the chocolate milk you had bought just yesterday was gone.

It's been going on ever since you had another lodger in your workroom; it didn't matter that you bought twice as much of anything when he arrived, it all disappeared as fast as it appeared.

You came to your senses with the click of the kettle boiling. You calmly brewed the tea, automatically added six sugar cubes to the mug, set it on the table, and then began to pick up the things scattered around the room.

A redhead appeared in the doorway. "Adoptee, borrow me earphones."

Holding the pile of things in your hands, you glanced over your shoulder at Rachel. She was already dressed in a black uniform; her perpetually unruly hair was tied back in a high ponytail, she wore a black mask with small notches on the sides of it, she had a belt around her waist to which a hip harness was attached, and she was holding a pair of boots. "In the bedside table."

Rachel tapped the mask. "And new respirators."

"Top right drawer of the desk."

"And also elastic bandages."

You tried not to roll your eyes. "Look on the bottom shelf in the closet."

When she found everything she needed, Rachel plopped down in your chair and started bandaging her legs. "Who's that in there?" she asked casually, nodding toward the bathroom door, where you could hear the muffled sound of water.

Gathering up all clothes, you tossed them into the laundry basket. "Three guesses," you mumbled.

Rachel raised her eyebrows playfully. Even though she was wearing a mask, you knew her enough to realize she was biting her lower lip right now. "Is there something between ya two?"

"Definitely," you spread your palms apart, as if trying to measure something. "A huge household chasm, for example."

Rachel chuckled as she continued to bandage her legs. "That bad?"

"Well, not really," you said a little hesitantly, stepped closer to Rachel and sat down on the table. "Once I asked him to throw some of his own clothes in the washer, and, uh… he threw his black t-shirt in with my white clothes," it was supposed to sound like an excuse, but saying it aloud only made you bury your face in your palm more making your next words sound muffled. "I don't have any more white clothes."

"Don't ya think he did it on purpose?" inquired Rachel, pulling on her boots. "Ya know, so you wouldn't ask him for anything else."

You took on a blissful look so suddenly that it made Rachel cringe, and question your normality for the umpteenth time. "Nah, I'm not sure of anything anymore. I'm just graciously accepting the trial God has sent me."

"Why don't ya just punch him a couple times?" she turned to you, jumping up from her chair and starting to stretch her arms.

You sighed ruefully, grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. "Calm down. I'll definitely get over this one somehow. A couple more months and I might even be able to put up with his God complex."

A hurried exclamation was heard from the bathroom. "Y/N! Where's my uniform?"

You rounded your eyes indignantly, and Rachel hissed because your grip on her shoulder had gotten too strong. "I put it right on the door in front of your nose!" you exclaimed trying to shout over the sound of the water.

"Adoptee, easy," Rachel whined trying to remove your hand from your shoulder.

You tore your gaze away from the bathroom door and perked up. "Sorry," you mumbled guiltily and pulled your hand away.

Gojo came out of the bathroom. You let out a silent sigh of relief when you saw that he had deigned to get dressed after all. Even though he was already in his uniform, drops of water fell from his damp hair onto his cheekbones slowly dripping down, and your mind was already drawing his protruding collarbones. You slapped your palms gently over your face. What were you even thinking? "Mochi," he turned to you, coming closer and closer. "Did you make tea?"

He had already gotten close enough to stand between your legs when you fumbled for the mug on the table and shoved it at him literally pressing it into his chest, pushing him away from you.

"Thank you," Gojo chirped. When he brought the mug to his lips, his expression changed and he frowned his eyebrows seriously. "You added sugar, didn't you? Otherwise, I won't drink it."

You stared blankly at his face for a few more seconds, and then a nervous laugh escaped your lips. You turned to Rachel, and for a second it looked like your eyelid was twitching. "If I do end up in the electric chair, tell everyone it was self-defense."

Rachel nodded understandingly, and jumped out of her chair and headed briskly for the door, forgetting her respirators and headphones leaving them lying on the table.

"Wait!" you shouted after her, but your exclamation was answered only by the metallic creak of the door slamming shut.

Shaking your head in annoyance, you stood up from the table and picked up Rachel's belongings, and before you knew it, his arms were gently around your waist and he rested his chin on the top of your head. "It was a joke. You know I'll drink poison from your hands, right?"

Dazed for a moment, you tilted your head and looked his fingers that delicately traced the fabric of your sweater. He was becoming more touching by the day. "Enough. The temptation is already too strong," as you continued to look at his hands, your gaze locked onto the black uniform. Will ya be gone for long?"

"I'll try to get back as soon as possible," he said to the reason he held in his hands.

He had to hold on harder because for before he could blink, you slipped out of his embrace. "Okay. If anything happens, text me."

Gojo had long since ceased to boast of his strength at such phrases you said; he comforted himself that you said such things not out of underestimation but out of concern, and the thought was so soft he wanted to drown in it. "I can only write to you if something happens?"

"If I say 'yes', will that stop ya taking pictures of every bush and sending them to me with a note saying they look like me?"

"I don't think so."

You nodded understandingly and looked away, but he noticed the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes. You were smiling. "I gotta go. While Rachel and Issu are still here, I need to give some guidance."

You had barely reached the workroom door when you heard his voice again; you had to strain your hearing, for this time he sounded unaccustomedly quiet. "Say you'll miss me."

You felt nothing but joy. The joy of standing with your back to him so he wouldn't notice your surprised eyes, and when you turned around, there was nothing left of the surprise. "See ya," you threw over your shoulder, and the metallic creak of the door slamming shut reached his ears.

***

The three of you were standing on the practice field.

You screwed the respirators harder into the young man's stiff mask and pulled them apart to make sure they fit tightly. His gaze was off to the side and completely blank. You raised your hand up and made a rotating motion with your index finger. He obediently turned his back to you. You looked him over from head to toe, and rubbing your chin, you pulled him up by his belt, where a small hip bag was attached, and tightened the clasps more firmly. He didn't make a sound - you took that as a signal that he was comfortable. You put your arm around Issu's shoulders and turned him around to face you. "Everything alright? Did the mask fit okay? Straps aren't pulling?"

He only shook his head.

You threw a glance at his black disheveled hair falling over his shoulders, then pulled off your scrunchie and held it out to him. "Put ya hair up."

While he obediently tied his hair, you kept looking at him and thinking about how you'd never heard his voice.

Rachel stood beside him and with her hands at her sides, beat the toes of her boots rhythmically against the ground.

Thud-thud.

Issu had already managed to deal with the unruly strands that were poking out, and he was tying the last knot of the elastic band.

Thud-thud.

He shifted his gaze to you, waiting for further instructions.

Thud-thu—

"Calm down!" you barked in Rachel's direction.

"How much longer?" she whined before you could even utter your word.

"Okay," you turned in her direction and clasped your hands together across your chest, exhaling noisily through your mouth. "Now ya. What aren'twe doing?"

"Don't get kid in trouble," Rachel mockingly high-pitchedly teased you.

"Good," you said with a cluck of your tongue and turned back to Issu again. "Now ya're just going to see what the void looks like and try to get used to the sensation. Ya go out through the first rift you see; Rachel will continue raid alone. Clear?" kid nodded and you pull your phone out of your pocket. "Let's check it out."

While Rachel rolled her eyes irritably, Issu already had his phone at the ready. You unlocked the screens and carefully made sure the dials, down to the seconds, went on simultaneously. "Did ya check your watch against your phone?" you turned to Issu. The kid nodded.

"See ya," you said and took a few steps away from them.

"Finally!" exclaimed Rachel enthusiastically, and with maddening lights in her eyes, grabbed the kid's shoulder. You covered your eyes sharply with your forearm.

A purple glow swept across all visible space like an instant tsunami. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared. You pulled your hand away, and glancing at the darkened crowns swaying in the distance, you sat down on the cold ground and waited for Kyle.

***

It was past midnight. Gojo shivered as he looked at the figure of you sitting in the distance, shrouded by the restless wind that had risen in the night. Your habit of running out of the house without outerwear at any time of year made him want to either mock you or silently walk over and give you his. Or maybe both. When he imagined you drowning in his jacket, he shyly lowered his eyes to the floor and grinned. After a couple of long breaths, he finally looked at you again, and took a step toward you.

His eyes stung, and he tried in vain to blink away the discomfort. When he gave up, he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the backs of his palms against his eyelids; a purple flash was imprinted on the other side of his closed eyes.

Finally wiping the discomfort from his eyelids, Gojo opened his eyes, but only to see your figure clutched in another man's arms. You and Kyle were holding each other, swaying from side to side as if dancing; he wasn't sure if the man was saying anything to you, but he was sure he could hear you laughing. He seemed to forget one thing at times, which was your main difference.

You've never been alone.

His teeth clenched involuntarily and hard, and he buried his face deeper into the long collar of his uniform, and immediately tucked his hands into his pockets. When he saw you, he'd forgotten why he'd left the house in the first place, but the tight fabric of the clothes he was pinching reminded him that he had to go on a mission.

Glancing once more at your never-disengaged silhouettes, Gojo in one motion pulled the mask that had been hanging around his neck all this time over his eyes and disappeared before you would have been able to notice him.

[Nov 25, 2019; 04:02am; United States, Montana, Granite County, Garnet]

You finally sat down on the porch of one of the abandoned houses; the path down the washed-out dirt road seemed impossibly long, and your shoes, covered in mud, felt leaden. Behind the towering trees in the hills around the abandoned town or the chirping of the early birds - you tried to catch a glimpse of anything.

You pushed the container away from you, and, unable to resist any longer, you lay down on the porch and stared up at the night sky. Here, in the wilderness, it was unobstructed and unobscured, the noise of light inherent only in inhabited, living places.

The more you gazed into the high night abyss, the more stars appeared on it; they appeared just as a pattern on a table would appear from beneath a layer of dust as if someone were slowly tracing it with a hand.

Was there anything out there? Beyond the observable universe, beyond the entire universe - anything at all? Swallowing the feeling of something exorbitant and unattainable, you raised yourself on your elbows as if it would help you somehow get closer to the sky. Whether the expanses of the universe drew you in with their mystery or drowned you with their silence, you were only concerned with one question: did they long for you as you longed for them?

With difficulty, you looked up from the sky and glanced at your watch. You'd agreed to meet at four a.m. sharp, but the hands were already past half past four. The insider wasn't coming.

With a frustrated sigh, you stood up to your full height and looked up to the heavens once more; barely touching your fingers to your lips, you blowed a timid shy kiss.

As you picked up the container, your hearing picked up a methodical and approaching tapping sound; it was muffled and barely perceptible. Carefully setting the container down, you stepped out onto the dirt road, and tried to look. At first your eyes caught nothing but darkness, but soon you saw the source of the tapping - a cane, and behind the cane as if out of nowhere, a man holding it.

The closer the man came, the smaller he seemed, and when he came close he was almost a head shorter than you. He raised his head, and from beneath his gray hat you were met by a aged but still shining look; his eyes were adorned with a kindly squint, and he held out a wrinkled hand to you. "How the killers from the North doing?"

"More like from the East," you shook his hand firmly.

The older man's thick mustache muffled the chuckle that escaped him. "The rest didn't bother you?" he unclenched your palm, and rested both hands on the handle of his cane.

You interlocked your fingers together and gave a long hum. "Nah, not really," you said shaking your head slightly.

The old man kept his gaze on you. " Have you lived in the East for a long time?" seeing you shake your head from side to side once more, the old man grinned condescendingly. "From the height of my years, I can say that it was in the North that the first hunter appeared-"

"And I dare not argue with ya," your respectful tone was at odds with your actions. It seemed to the old man that, under his gaze you would give in, yield, and give him - if not from status, then from age - the respect he deserved. And you did. But why did the old man find himself under the gaze of your slightly widened eyes?

He swallowed quietly and turned his gaze back to the container. You were leaning closer to his face inch by inch.

The old man clenched his teeth; he felt as if a huge fanged drooling mouth were breathing down his cheek. He turned sharply in your direction, and you immediately recoiled from him chuckling; there was not a shred of danger in your face, except for a benevolent squint. "Did ya bring it?"

"I brought it, yes," said the old man grimly, and adjusting his collar, tapped a dirty cane on the container. "Only that won't be enough. You know it's hard to come by in the present realities."

You nodded briefly. "I'll bring two next time."

"Six," the old man said.

"Three."

"Five," he persisted.

"Three or I'll take away what ya brought by force."

The old man was glad your ugly smile was hidden by the mask. He pulled a matchbook out of his gray suit pocket and held it out to you.

"Thank ya," you chirped taking the box from him. The old man didn't resist, but walked over to the container and picked it up. Despite his frail build, it was easy for him. You pressed your lips together. "Ya even know where the hunters came from, but where ya came from, ya still won't tell me?"

The man cast a glance in your direction over his shoulder. "Girl," he snorted condescendingly. "Only if you weren't human would I be able to explain it to you."

"Yeah, of course," you muttered idly, turning the matchbook in the palm of your hand. The old man turned to face you, and you gave him another glance. "One last question. Do ya know where Rei is now?"

Black lines spread across the old man's lower eyelids, and his rounded glass eyes turned black. He took a step back. "No," he hissed.

You rolled your eyes irritably, for the man had disappeared too quickly for a truthful answer. You waved the old man away in your mind, and opened the box pulling out a tiny clear bag, staring at the creamy beige dust it contained. You would have stared at it longer if it hadn't been for the phone notification.

[04:31am] Kyle: Issu came out of the void

[04:31am] Kyle: The kid got bilateral pneumonia and dehydration, but overall, he's fine.

[Nov 26, 2019, 05:37am, hunter's headquarters]

Gojo stood in the doorway of the workroom; his entire uniform was covered in dust and dirt, but he didn't have a scratch on him - as usual, he had come home infinitely alive.

Half of the desk drawers were pulled out; pens, vitamin jars, notebooks, devices that looked like thin black spider webs, and an inordinate number of written and blank sheets of paper were strewn across the floor - he had a few seconds to look at the mess you'd made, but not enough time to look at you. He was standing with his head against the doorjamb watching you and your every move; you were sitting on the floor, shuffling through some papers, humming something to yourself and moving your shoulders rhythmically, apparently to the beat of the music.

"Are you kidding me?" asked Shoko in a monotone voice. "Get up."

Gojo flopped down on the hospital bed where Ieiri had just changed the bedding and buried his face in the pillow.

"Get up already," she said, but he didn't move. Shoko sighed irritably, but sat down in the chair that was next to the bunk. She knew for sure she would regret her next words. "If you don't want to leave, then just tell me what's wrong already."

Gojo raised his head sharply. "I don't understand!" he exclaimed, and Shoko involuntarily squeezed her eyes shut at the loud sound. "I'm trying to make contact, to bond in some way, to form a friendship, and she!" he almost gasped with indignation. "I even walk around half-naked in front of her, and she looks at me like I'm an earthworm!"

"Disgusted?" asked Shoko wrinkling her nose.

"SHE DOESN'T LOOK AT ME AT ALL-"

Shoko abruptly covered his mouth with her hand, only for him to stop screaming like that. "Stop yelling," she hissed, and he nodded exhaling into her hand in defeat. Ieiri removed her palm. "Form a friendship, you say," she summarized skeptically. "Tell me, how often have you flaunted your bare torso in front of Suguru, then thrown tantrums about him not paying attention to you?"

Gojo opened his mouth, but no words came out; only an inarticulate snort and he turned away from her.

Shoko shook her head and leaned back in her chair. "I don't know what's on your mind, but don't you think you just romanticized the image of her in your head and now you're just pissed off that she's not acting the way you thought she would?"

"I've never done that."

"Oh, really?" she muttered raising her eyebrows. "How much do you know about her anyway?"

Gojo buried his face in the pillow again. There was a quiet, suppressed 'Back off'.

He immediately wanted to leave. He'd come here for comfort, not sticky guilt.

Shoko looked over his motionless figure before patting him on the back. "Well, go find out."

He pulled away from the pillow and finally assumed a sitting position tucking his long legs under him. "And you?" he met her questioning gaze. "Well, how do you feel about her?"

"I try not to cross paths with her at all," she replied dryly.

He glanced at her spitefully. "Why?"

Shoko began to restlessly twirl a curl on her finger. "I don't know. Rachel told me that she does something to hunters that makes them either get stronger or die. Guess the outnumber."

A skeptical grin showed on his lips. He couldn't believe his ears. Such words - and from her? "Are you serious?"

"I'm not fifteen years old," she bellowed, and nervously running her palms over her face, tried to pull herself together. "I'm well aware that it's unlikely she's doing this for pleasure or fun. It's just..." Shoko swallowed, and finding a lifeline in the form of a window stared out of it. "I've had two loved ones in my life who committed questionable acts, but somehow they were regretful, doubtful, sometimes even broken-looking. Even though they tried to hide it, you could always tell and that's okay. No matter how powerful the sorcerers are, they're still human," as he listened to her words, he hadn't noticed how long he'd been looking at his interlocked fingers. "And then... Then I look at her, and... I don't know," Shoko shrugged weakly. "It's like she doesn't regret anything. It's like she has no emotions at all."

Gojo had always believed his best friend. Even now he believed that Shoko was telling the truth. Only it was her truth.

Gojo put his palm to his mouth and suppressed a chuckle when you started humming once more, then moved slowly toward you. He stopped a few inches away, nervously fumbling with a tiny souvenir in his pocket.

His fingers were already a few inches away from the fabric of your sweatshirt as you pulled your head up. When you met his gaze, you pulled out your headphones.

He just needed to say hello. The usual word 'hey', there was nothing complicated about it.

Gojo leaned in to be closer to your face. "It's not even six in the morning and you're already villainizing," he gently rubbed his nose against your forehead.

"Back already?" you asked surprised, getting up from the floor. "Are ya okay?"

He went into a stupor. Up until this point, coming home from assignments Gojo had gotten nothing but short nods, questions about how it went or complaints from higher-ups. "Me?" he questioned dully. "Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. Except I'm dirty. Uh," confused for words, he bit his tongue. "I-I mean, my uniform is dirty. See?" Gojo tugged his sleeve and let go sharply causing a tiny cloud of dust to rise.

You lowered your head and bit your lip, trying to calm the spasmodic heaving of your chest. "Uh-huh," you muttered quickly putting your palm to your lips. Coughing, you looked up at him again squinting your eyes.

He hid his face in his palms. "If you laugh now, I swear to God, I'll cry," Gojo mumbled.

He barely had time to say the words before you burst out laughing. "Please, just get in the shower," you turned to the computer waving one hand away from him and the other away from the tears that were coming, and he turned on his heels and headed for the bathroom.

Gojo slammed the door shut with force, and walked over to the mirror to meet his flushed face. "That witch," he muttered clenching his cheeks. "Pull yourself together," he quietly slammed his palms on his face.

He removed the mask hanging around his neck and quickly threw his jacket to the floor. Something clanked along with the familiar thud.

There was the sound of a palm slapping against his forehead. He'd forgotten to hand over the souvenir.

That thought made him shower as quickly as possible; he even forgot to apply the rest of (your) moisturizer to his body.

After getting out of the shower, he flew over to the dresser and pulled out a drawer, but the contents - or rather, the lack thereof - made him furrow his brows. Gojo quickly rummaged through all the drawers, but found no clean clothes.

He looked around the bathroom absent-mindedly. All that was left was a towel. 'That's even better,' he thought to himself smiling stupidly.

Gojo slipped the towel over his hips and looked at himself in the mirror. He ran a hand through his hair tucking it back; a few unruly strands did fall into his face. He took a couple of deep breaths and walked out of the bathroom clutching a small gift in his hand.

You were still standing with your back to him looking at something on the monitor. "I'm not looking," you nodded over your shoulder not looking away from the screen.

Gojo gave a barely audible chuckle. "That's a pity."

"What is it?" you asked stretching the words playfully. He was moving quietly toward you, not paying attention. You flipped your hair to the side exposing the back of your head - he gulped. "Has magic stopped putting clean clothes in the dresser?" You saw something on the screen that made you squeeze your thigh with your hand – it almost took his breath away. "Ah yes, that wasn't magic either. It was me," with a splash of your hands, you turned around and almost collided with his still-water-damp chest. You wanted to take a step back, but the table, which was already close by, hindered you. You looked up at Gojo questioningly.

Gojo had always thought he could take the stares of anyone; here with you he lowered his gaze and stared somewhere around your collarbones. He coughed softly, picked you up by the waist and before you could say anything, he had you sitting on the table.

Taking your hand, Gojo stroked it gently with his thumb as if to see if it was okay. You sat with your face buried in his shoulder not moving. He rested his cheek against the top of your head, his hand moving slowly up your forearm. He lingered on your shoulder and squeezed it gently, and at that moment he prayed to all the Gods that someone, anyone would turn off the damn sound in this world - because his breathing was too heavy and audible. He ran his knuckles down your neck barely touching the thin fabric of the tight collar. Finally, his fingertips sank into the black mask. He couldn't feel your skin, just an unpleasant tingle. He rubbed his nose against the top of your head forcing you to look up at him, and when your eyes met, he finally unclenched the hand that was against your face. Something jingled.

"And this is for you," Gojo smiled. "When I saw it, I immediately thought that, well... That it looks like you," on one of his fingers on a ring hung a keychain. It was a rubbery little astronaut. You couldn't see his face under his white spacesuit - it was hidden under orange 'glass'. The astronaut had a disproportionately large head, and his tiny arms were spread apart as if he were ready to hug anyone.

Seeing you hesitate, Gojo put the keychain in your hand.

The action made you perk up. "Thank ya," you chirped softly. He nodded briefly but contentedly at your words, but he took his time pulling away from you. His eyes widened at first when he felt your palm on his cheek, but when he felt you start to move closer, he didn't know where to look. To the right? To the left? Down? His gaze darted erratically this way and that, afraid to even move so as not to scare you away. When your lips were at his ear, his vision blurred. "Put ya pants on."

Gojo pulled away from you abruptly. "You!" he raised his hand pointing a finger at you. "You ruined everything!"

You jumped off the table and turned back to the monitor. "Look in the closet, I think there was some left over."

Behind your back, you heard a disgruntled muttering and the creaking of closet doors, followed by footsteps and the squeak of a mattress.

He could hear the familiar clacking of keys. He couldn't get Shoko's words about not knowing you at all out of his head. "How long you here for?"

"Well... I don't even know," you muttered, not taking your eyes off the screen. "We have a town day coming up on December 5th, and Frank's going to kill me if I don't show up there. Which means I need to get as many things done as possible to keep my head down, and considering I'm going on a raid tonight, there's less and less time."

"You mean there won't be any free time at all?"

"What's wrong?"

"Pay attention to me," Gojo asked quietly. "At least ten minutes. Lay with me."

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. You looked up slowly and saw his figure nestled comfortably beneath your blanket, and you tightened your lips nervously.

"I won't do anything stupid," he said moving to the other edge and patting the seat he'd vacated. "I swear."

"Okay," you replied and walked over to the bed. As you fluffed your pillow, doubt crept into your soul. A viscous and sticky feeling that drowned you like a swamp. Anxiety went hand in hand with doubt, like a person pushing you deeper into the swamp.

You plopped down next to him.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed triumphantly, and in one motion he was on top of you. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he rested his head on your chest. "There's no escape now."

You rolled your eyes. There he was - both the swamp and the man drowning you in it. "You're heavy," you mumbled softly trying unsuccessfully to shove him off you.

"You have to be patient," he murmured wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. Something crunched in your back. Gojo looked up sharply and seeing the tiny wrinkles on the bridge of your nose, he panicked. "I'm sorry! Does it hurt?"

"Ya know... You should learn to calculate your strength," you said quietly squirming and trying to get into a more comfortable position.

Gojo loosened his grip a little. "I'll try to be more careful next time," he said and returning his head to its previous position, rubbed his cheek gently against your collarbones as if apologizing. He had experience. Combat, worldly, sexual.

But this was an experience he hadn't had yet.

Your hand was already burrowing into his hair. Water dripped from the still-wet strands straight onto your clothes, but you continued to massage his scalp ignoring it.

"Mochi?" he addressed you softly, and he heard you hum something to yourself. "Where are your parents?"

"Not here."

He hesitated a bit before asking the next question. "What happened to them?"

"Dunno."

Gojo furrowed his brows, and a sense of annoyance made him clench his teeth. The dialog wasn't flowing, but he never backed down either. "Your favorite food?"

The range of topics made you chuckle. "With this job I don't have much choice, so I guess you could say I'm an omnivore."

"Wow, what do we have here?" he playfully inquired raising his head. He began to gently nibble and tickle your sides. "An answer consisting of more than two words?"

You tried not to squirm or roll, but you couldn't. Gojo pinched just above your waist, and laughter burst out of you. "That's it, stop it, STOP!" you tried to pull his hands away.

"I won't do it again," he purred with a satisfied smile. "For now," he added laying his head back down. The tickling turned smoothly into stroking. "And your strength... Is it, well... Is it innate or acquired?"

You flicked him gently on the forehead. "What strength do ya keep talking about?"

"So it wasn't you who came in, snapped your fingers and got rid of the curse king?" he asked ironically.

You grinned. "Well, if that's what it looked like to you, then I haven't practiced for nothing."

"You still haven't answered my question," he pinched your side warningly.

You exhaled noisily removing his hand only for him to stubbornly put it back in place. "More like both."

The next question Gojo asked was kind of in-between, but it dumbfounded you. "What about you and Kyle?"

"Uh," you squinted your eyes and slowly swept your gaze around the room as if there was an answer to that question lurking around here somewhere. Or at least a little clarification. "What about Kyle and me?"

"Aren't you two a little too close?" he muttered into the fabric of your sweatshirt.

"What?" still as perplexed as ever, you asked. "What do ya mean? He's my brother."

"He's no relation to you," he blurted out and immediately felt your muscles tense.

"Now that wasn't necessary at all," you hissed unhappily, removing your hand from his head and trying to push him off of you.

"I'll definitely bite my tongue off someday," he promised holding you in place. He lifted his head and stared at your face. "I'm sorry," he whispered childishly tweaking his lower lip.

"Whatever," you said nonchalantly, returning his head to your chest

"One last question. Did anything happen between you?"

You shrugged. "There was a lot going on between us."

It was as if someone had broken off a piece of his rib and put a smoldering coal in it - just like that, everything in his chest was on fire. "What kind of answer is that?" he spat out.

"What kind of question is that?" you asked indignantly raising your voice, and that made him falter. "Look," you said on an exhale, and it was as if all emotion had gone out of you again. "If this keeps up, I'd better get to work."

"Five minutes," he mumbled. "I'll be quiet, really. Just...," he stammered, and shyly took your hand and put it back on his head. "Just let's lie down for another five minutes."

Instead of answering, you started going through his strands again. Gojo exhaled in relief. When you moved to the back of his neck, his breathing slowed with each movement of your fingers. When you heard him sniffle, you wondered if he'd fallen asleep without eating.

Five minutes seamlessly flowed into eight hours.

[Nov 28, 2019; 10:04pm; hunter's headquarters]

The sound of the waves - whether quiet or restless - always soothed tired minds. Maybe the water shimmering in the twilight mesmerized him, or maybe he didn't have the strength to look up at the horizon standing so close to the edge that he could see the waves licking the coastal rocks.

He had never thought of such a thing, he was too strong in spirit. However, in this moment the real him was as if he were looking at himself from the outside, chained and completely immobilized. It had been more than a year since those events, and he had never been able to talk about his feelings, and the others had not dared to ask: some of them had no idea that all that time his soul had been torn as easily as an old rag; others had no idea what had happened.

He kept looking helplessly at himself, at the other version of himself that didn't have the guts to take one step forward, either one step back.

"Kid!" Itadori flinched when he heard the loud voice that overrode the sound of the water. He couldn't even turn around on his own - he was turned around by a strong hand that rested on his shoulder. "What ya doing here?" asked Kyle, it was impossible to see in the darkness as he squinted his eyes. "Let's get inside," he nudged the boy lightly and Itadori went forward out of inertia. Kyle followed him.

When they were on the doorstep, seeing Itadori heading for the stairs, Kyle put his arm around his shoulders and turned him toward the workroom.

Kyle sat Itadori down in a chair, threw a blanket over his shoulders, and made chamomile tea. Sitting down beside him, he held out the mug to the boy, but Itadori didn't react. Kyle exhaled worriedly and set the mug on the table. "Tell me about it," Itadori kept staring at one point as he continued. Interlocking his fingers, Kyle leaned over and looked into his eyes trying to find something there. "I know this isn't easy. Try to get one word out of you, and it'll get easier from there-

Kyle was interrupted by a ragged sob. Burying his face in his hands, Itadori bent down and began to shudder with his whole body.

It was always good to vent, but it was much better to tell what had gotten you to this point. Taking the mug, Kyle gently but stubbornly grabbed the boy's chin forcing him to look up. "Drink."

Itadori nodded curtly, took the mug and took a couple of sips. His eyes were as red as his crying face. "Tell me," he mumbled, and his lips trembled again. "Have people ever died through your fault?"

Kyle raised his eyebrows in surprise. Since when do such adult problems have such a childish face? "I don't know how ya'll feel about us after this, but I'll even say more than that. We killed people."

"You...," Itadori began, but feeling a cry coming up to his throat, he sipped from his mug again. "You mean dioreacts?"

"No," Kyle shook his head nonchalantly. "We got over them a long time ago and just accepted as fact that the fusion process was irreversible. What I meant was that we were killing people. Ordinary people."

"But how come..."

"It just happened," Kyle exhaled grimly.

"How do you handle it?" asked Yuji with broken hope in his voice.

Kyle smiled sadly. "We'll tell you when we will," he patted Itadori on the top of his head. "And anyway... Ya're a huge empath, kid. And with a job like this... Well, I guess that's your truest curse."

Itadori didn't have time to say anything before a redhead appeared from behind the door. "I'm actually here for perfume... What's this?" asked Rachel with suspicion in her voice.

She was wearing a tight black evening dress, and her perpetually unruly hair was styled and tossed to the side. There was the sound of high heels clomping in the workroom as she stepped closer to the boys, and after dropping her clutch on the table, she pulled up a chair and sat down next to Kyle.

Rachel looked at Itadori's face, which was as tearful as it was lifeless, and turned a meaningful glance at Kyle. He only nodded awkwardly pressing his lips together. She wrinkled her nose and sucked air through her teeth as if she'd stubbed her finger on paper. "What, the moral compass has snapped a bit?" she turned to Itadori. "Don't worry, everyone's been through it."

"Anyway, what I wanted to say," Kyle began. "We're having a festivity in town on the fifth. And I'd really like to show ya something, so... Whatever you're up to, leave it, okay?" Itadori fidgeted in his chair and stammered. He only realized what he wanted to do when the other person said it. He nodded shamefully wrapping himself in the blanket. "That's good," Kyle smiled warmly, but the smile abruptly disappeared from his face when he looked at Rachel. "Where ya off to again?"

"On a date," she chirped tucking her hair behind her ear.

Kyle crossed his arms over his chest and planted his foot on his leg. "Isn't it about time ya settled on one?"

"Look, why ya dancing so shitty?" she hissed glaring at him.

"What are you talking about?" he blurted out angrily

"I thought eunuchs weren't supposed to be disturbed by anything!"

"Shut your mouth!"

They were brought out of their argument by a faint chuckle that sounded like another sob. "Look at it," Rachel muttered glaring at Kyle. "Got the kid down again," she stood up, and taking Itadori under her arm, set him on his feet. She was already taller than he was, but in heels, she was a whole head taller. "Let's get out of here, sweetheart. I'll walk ya to your room," she said and putting her arm around his shoulder, she led a flushed Itadori who was no longer crying away from the workroom.

Looking at them, Kyle reached for Itadori's mug, but there was another one in the way - yours, with unfinished tea. The knock made Kyle jerk and when he turned around, he saw the tea spreading over the scattered papers. "For fuck's sake," he reprimanded you for the mess you left behind.

Kyle picked up the mug and took it to the sink. Returning to the desk, he crumpled up all the papers and tossed them in the trash. Wiping down the desk and coming across the pens and pencils, he tossed it into one drawer; seeing the papers, he tossed them into another. Still holding the rag in his hands, he walked over the surfaces of the furniture wiping away the dust.

He had already washed the few dishes in the sink and put them on the shelves. He came to his senses only when he put a pair of sneakers he'd found under the bed at the doorstep of the workroom.

"That's better," he exhaled contentedly, looking around the room.

There was a click behind him, and Kyle looked back, contentment replaced by rage. He clenched his teeth tightly so they wouldn't end up in the throat of the person who'd entered the workshop.

"Well, hey there," Gojo greeted him tilting his head slightly sideways and smiled.

"You're just an asshole, not a teacher," Kyle spat out into his masked face. As he walked out of the workshop, Kyle didn't even nudge him with his shoulder - he didn't want to touch him that much.

[Dec 4, 2019; 09:47am; Hopetown].

The morning was frosty, fresh, but windless, and the road was long, but long ago trampled and learned by heart, and from this took much less strength than in the first times.

But you were accompanied by newcomers - behind you could hear the heavy breathing from the long climb up the slope; someone was swatting from branches and coniferous vegetation; someone fumbled aside when stone chips fell from the high nearby cliffs.

"Y/N," Yuta's panting voice came from behind you. "How much farther is it?"

Yuta grumbled annoyingly when he heard your cheerful voice. "Nah," you chirped brushing a branch out of the way with your hand. "We'll go up now, and then we can see the town. Then all that's left is to go down."

There was a long exhalation behind you, and some unhappy muttering. "Ya didn't train their stamina at all, did ya?" you asked quietly, turning your head slightly.

"Somehow... I haven't had time for that sort of thing. You know, magic and all that," Gojo muttered on an exhale, dodging another branch. "Can't we just teleport?"

"Ya weak or what?" you taunted him. "Move ya feet, come on. We're almost there."

Overcoming the remaining distance, you pulled back one of the coniferous branches that obscured the view. "Welcome," you said, and bent in a mock bow taking your hand aside and pointing the way.

Surrounded by the mountains that threw a white-colored garment over their 'shoulders', surrounded by the vegetation that was now sleeping under the snow, surrounded by the river that had no beginning and ran away somewhere beyond the mountains, there was a town. The houses looked gingerbread, and the snow lying on them looked like icing.

Slowly floating across the sky, the heavy clouds were touching the peaks of the mountains and cutting themselves not worrying about anything. From up here, everything seemed so quiet as if no one had ever lived here.

You cast your eyes upon a distant cliff hidden in the high rocks, and your thoughts were filled with the troubles of the days ahead.

Now all that's left is to descend as carefully as possible.

***

"Careful, it's slippery!" you exclaimed uncontrollably as Maki stepped onto the bridge leading across the river into town, her foot going sideways. Taking her by the arm, you set off forward together.

It was no longer so quiet. There was clanking, clattering, negotiations, shouts and laughter everywhere. There were dozens of trampled paths: from house to house, from house to warehouse, from storage to powerhouse, from powerhouse to bar, from bar to house. Only one path almost covered with snow went somewhere over the mountain into the forest.

Some houses were made of wood, some of stone, and some of both, whatever material and strength was available. Because of the different landscape, all the houses were on different levels and were hidden behind each other, and the snowdrifts hid them as well. The chimney of each house was filled with thick smoke, and the glass windows were covered with patterns drawn overnight during the winter.

There was a thud behind you. When you turned around, you saw Danielle lying in a snowdrift.

"Dany, are you okay-" you faltered as you saw Megumi run up to her, and gently picking her up by the waist, set her on her feet. They held hands.

There was a disgruntled, indignant muttering above your ear. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"You should wear a hat, fancy boy," you said looking at Gojo. "You'll catch cold."

"We're almost here anyway," he said, and smiling, he reached into your pocket with one hand and squeezed your warm palm.

"Okay, okay!" you shouted drawing attention. "We're that way, guys," you pointed to one of the large wooden houses standing on a high hill.

"...look at that, they showed up after all..."

Faces began to show in the windows hiding anger and discontent behind snowy patterns.

"...since when have there been so many of them...?"

People started coming out of the houses. Whether just to spit or to get a better look.

"...They're all kids, has she gone completely insane...?"

You didn't realize how tightly you'd squeezed Gojo's hand. He looked at you worriedly, but there was nothing on your face - the look seemed even emptier than before.

"Hey," he quietly called out to you tapping his finger gently on your cold cheek. "Let's go inside."

You nodded and he led you up the slope. He looked back at you periodically as if he were checking to see if you were missing, if you'd run away - as if he weren't the one holding your hand right now.

Suddenly, something small and fast came at you from the top of the hill - no, not an avalanche - and your eyes only caught a few red strands sticking out from under hat. "Y/N!" the boy squeaked before flying into your arms, and you almost went flying down the hill.

"Hey, Mike," you greeted him, cradling the imp in your arms.

"Where's mom?" he asked peering over your shoulders but only bumping into Gojo.

"I'm sorry, but she's on a raid right now. She won't be back until after the festivity," you stroked his back sympathetically.

"She's always like this," he mumbled frustratedly into your scarf.

"Don't get upset, it's not her fault. She'll come eventually anyway," you tried to cheer him up. You set him on his feet, and noticing that his hat had moved down over his eyes, you corrected it. Tears came out.

There was a sob that heralded the beginning of disaster. What do you say to a child who's about to cry? That sometimes circumstances are stronger than we are? That tears can't help the grief? Or should you tell him that everything will be fine? Will he even understand what you are trying to say?

The first whimper that came out of Mike's lips was still soft. You put your hand to your forehead in panic trying to think of all the options.

Suddenly, Gojo scooped Mike up into his arms. "We'll be right there!" he exclaimed and you jerked as they instantly disappeared from your sight.

The panic only intensified. You looked around erratically, trying to catch a glimpse of them. What are you going to tell Rachel? That her son was stolen by a madman?

Your heart was stopped from bursting by them also appearing out of nowhere. Gojo's hair was more disheveled than usual, but Mike was hatless, his red hair bunched up in tangles. He sat quietly in Gojo's arms, his eyes full of shock.

"What did ya do to him, you-"

"That was so cool!" squealed a recovered Mike loudly.

"We... We scouted the area a bit. From above," Gojo said shyly, nodding to the sky.

You slapped your palm to your forehead. "He's going to bury us," you muttered quickly. "Frank's gonna bury us. Alive. When he finds out about this."

Gojo lowered Mike to the ground, and the boy immediately burst toward the house. "Calm down, everything's okay."

You looked at Mike with round eyes. "Now he's going to find out," you whispered quietly. "That's it, we're dead," you started to giggle for some reason, and when you turned around, you saw that you weren't alone. "You're crazy," you said and Gojo kept laughing, pulling you close and burrowing into your scarf.

***

Under the stare, you both bowed your heads. You were biting your lip and looking at your suddenly interesting shoes. You wished Frank would say something sooner because as so often happens, waiting for punishment is worse than punishment itself.

One of you couldn't take it. He couldn't take it, and he gave up.

"I totally take the blame," Gojo said.

There was a heavy sigh. Frank got up from his chair, walked over to you, and hugged you as hard as he could. "Ya," Frank addressed you in a bass voice. "Grab a shovel and go clean the roads."

A relieved exhale escaped your lips, you clutched your chest. "Thank God!" you squeaked, and before you flew out the door, you shouted: "Good luck!"

"And ya," Frank turned to Gojo squinting his eyes and appraising him with his gaze. "Ya're gonna help me cook dinner." Gojo furrowed his eyebrows incredulously. Was this the whole punishment thing? "Move, son," Frank said and slapped Gojo on the back with such force that his lungs nearly popped out.

"Your arm is... heavy," he wheezed rubbing the sore spot.

Frank only hummed and walked over to the locker and pulled out a bag of potatoes. "Here. Peel." Gojo shrugged, but began to do as commanded. In complete silence they began to prepare dinner, Frank chopping up meat and vegetables and serving him peeled potatoes.

Gojo glanced at Frank furtively, waiting for him to say something, but he seemed too focused. He didn't like moralizing, but at least he was ready for it. Silence was hard to get used to.

Gojo coughed quietly. "So, uh... Where's your wife?" he asked in a grayed voice. "It must be very hard to run a household alone."

"My girl's long gone," grinned Frank popping chopped onions into the pot.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Frank did not faint. "Don't be," he said. "We'll all be there. And besides, I've got great kids."

"That's true," he said quietly, smiling like a fool. Your face flashed before my eyes.

Frank looked at it with a sly look. "How's it going with Y/N?"

Gojo felt the blood rush sharply to his cheeks. "Fine," he wanted to end there, but the next words came out on their own. "Expect she's... I don't know, it seems she shuts people out. I mean, too much."

"She has her reasons," Frank brushed it off, while checking the pie in the oven.

"Like what?" he blurted out.

Frank hummed longingly, examining the golden pie crust. "Do you think we should wait any longer or is it ready?"

Gojo threw the knife into the sink with a loud clang. "Look, under her clothes I counted five scars on her stomach, nine on her back, three on her left arm, and what's on her neck... And that's just what I could feel," he listed angrily. "What happened to her?" he added in a whisper, barely audible.

Frank slowly closed the oven and sighed heavily. "I don't know."

"What?" squeamishly and incredulously he blurted out his question.

"Cool your jets," Frank said calmly, rising to his full height. "I don't know not because I don't want to, but because my daughter never told me. Shall I torture her? When the time comes, she'll tell me and even if she doesn't, it's my role as a father to support and love her no matter what," Gojo only swallowed hard and nodded briefly, but his clenched fists wouldn't unclench for some reason. "But I'm old," Frank said sadly. "So I have the nerve to ask ya to look after her when I'm gone. You two seem to be...getting along pretty well."

"I'll protect her," Gojo assured firmly, picking up his knife again and began methodically peeling the skin off the potato trying to calm himself down.

"Son, my daughter doesn't need protection," Frank shook his head. "Yeah, and caring isn't just about that."

"What else, then?" he asked quietly.

"Well, how about that," Frank began. He finally pulled out the pie, all smoky and flavorful, and set it on the dining table. "Emotional support. When person don't ridicule you or your hobbies. Praise, maybe even for the little things. Or when you come home all dirty and tired and they take you to the table and spoon-feed you," Frank glanced at the two chairs next to him, and for a moment, he saw two ghosts - his and his wife's. "A blanket to cover you, or give you the tastiest piece on your plate, and when you're sick you don't drag yourself feverishly to the drugstore to get medicine. In the little things, in general."

Gojo froze. All the clothes that had been washed and put on the shelves by you immediately flashed through his head, all the hot breakfasts, and your worried messages if he was even ten minutes late.. He remembered looking at you through the mirror while you dried his hair, and the discovery of the second blanket thrown on top of him in heavy frosts. He could still feel the warmth in his hands from the mug of tea you'd brewed. "I'll be right back!"

"Where ya think ya goin'?" exclaimed Frank angrily, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. "And the soup? What a bunch of kids," he muttered quietly to himself, and giving Gojo a ladle in his hand, ordered him to stir the broth.

***

Tris was sitting on your lap puffing and panting childishly, folding the corners of the paper repeatedly. Every time she failed or got it wrong, she would crumple it up nervously with her childish hands and toss it in the trash, and you would stare at the pile of scraps in the corner of the room.

It was getting dark outside the window, and Tris could barely see what exactly she was doing anymore, but her stubbornness kept her from saying a word. You turned on the nightlight.

"Better?" you asked her, and she only nodded angrily. "Don't be so nervous. It'll work out sooner or later. Ya want me to help ya?"

"No!" she squeaked angrily, clutching the paper into a shred again and tossing it aside.

You pressed your lips together understandingly, leaned back in your chair, and stroked her hair to make her feel better. She kept squirming in your lap, and you had to catch her from time to time, but she didn't even notice, too engrossed.

Her panting subsided a little when she finally successfully folded the first corners. "There, that's not bad," you said softly, resting your head on her shoulder and watching the result.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," you said not taking your eyes off Tris's labors.

"How is it going?" asked Frank softly, leaning over the table. You nodded slowly towards the table. "Tris, it's time to go to your room."

"I'll be going soon," she muttered without looking up.

"Watch it," he ordered you sternly, while kissing the tops of both of you. As Frank stepped back, Gojo appeared from behind his broad back.

Frank was already standing in the doorway. "Actually, I just came by to tell ya that we don't have any more extra rooms. So ya're gonna have to sleep together."

Before you could answer anything, Frank had already closed the door and the last thing you saw was his satisfied wide smile.

Gojo's sat down next to you. Tris only squirmed more at the attention being drawn to her and what she was doing.

"What is it you're doing?"

You sighed tiredly. "Trying to learn how to make a paper plane."

"What's that for?" he asked chuckling softly.

"When we were coming up, did you notice the high cliff in the distance?" you asked, and in response, you heard him purr something in agreement. "We launch paper planes from there every year for town day. With wishes. Although..." you stammered, remembering the words written out by your childish hand a long time ago. "It don't have to be wishes. You can write what you feel, or what you love. Anything that would make you happy. Something like that."

"Can I do that too?" asked Gojo playfully.

"Well...," you stretched out, casting a glance in his direction. "Ya don't seem like a person who doesn't have anything."

He pressed together his glossy lips skeptically and pulled away from you. "That's how."

"I'm sorry," you said softly, shrugging your shoulders. "Apparently I was wrong," fearing where this dialog might lead, you decided to back off. "It's time for bed now. I'll lie down on the floor."

"What do you take me for?" snorted Gojo indignantly, getting up from his chair. He walked over to the closet and busied himself with finding an extra blanket and pillow while you and Tris watched him.

Looking him over from head to toe, Tris lifted her head and looked at you. "Was he born this way?"

Without taking your eyes off his already tall figure, which now stretched to the topmost drawers, you raised your eyebrows. "Yep. He's got the bamboo gene embedded in him."

"Really?" squeaked Tris excitedly.

"I bet."

"I can actually hear everything," mumbled Gojo. Finally pulling out a pillow and blanket, he pouted and began to make himself comfortable on the floor.

You scooped Tris into your arms as you heard a faint sob. You turned her to face you in a panic, her tears welling up. "I want to sleep with you," she whimpered.

"Couldn't ya have asked without tears?"

You felt a poke at your ankle. "Don't talk like that to a child!" he hissed quietly at you.

You just stepped over him and got into bed with Tris. Climbing under the covers and snuggling in, she giggled happily and triumphantly.

You began to stroke her hair, as was your habit. Soon she stopped squirming and kicking at you, but she was still chattering quietly to herself. You tried not to make any sudden movements so as not to disturb the peace that was coming. Her arms around your waist went slack and she turned her back to you exhaling noisily.

In the room, besides Tris's sniffling, you could hear the ticking of the clock, the second hand seeming to beat against your temples each time. You covered your ear with the blanket, but quickly felt yourself getting hot, even though your feet felt icy cold. You buried your face into the pillow disappointedly.

"Hey," his quiet whisper called out to you. Pulling yourself off the pillow, you saw Gojo resting his chin on the bed looking at you. "Can I join you?" he asked and he was met by your quiet sigh. "I'm old now, my back hurts."

"Ya gave up too quickly," you whispered grinning. A chill ran down the back of his neck.

Gojo crawled slowly into the bed trying to get as comfortable as possible, and kept casting concerned glances at Tris. Finally resting his head on the pillow, he looked up at you. His fingers slowly, inch by inch, came up to your palm and touched it. He gently traced its contours and stroked your knuckles, occasionally giving the pads a gentle squeeze.

You couldn't see his cheeks reddening in the dark anyway - so he thought, not realizing that it wasn't just his cheeks that were reddening, but his ears, and his neck, and probably everything under his clothes. "Why you wearing a mask?" he asked quietly.

"No reason... I just had a theory that the judges don't perceive masked faces. And I... I don't know who judges will have or when. So I prefer to stay in everyone's memories like this."

"You brawling a lot?" whispered Gojo.

"I don't know, it just makes me feel better," you mumbled averting your gaze.

Watching you, he decided not to push you. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you off. "Got it," he said, but there was a strange, unfamiliar sadness in his voice. "Listen," Gojo stammered hearing his own hoarse whisper, and coughed as quietly as he could. "You... Can you call me by my name, just once in a while?"

"By name?" you asked confused.

"Hey!" he quickly faltered when his feigned indignant whisper came out too loud. "We've spent so many nights together and you don't even remember my name?"

"You mean Satoru?"

He couldn't find anything to say. Words became a lump in his throat when his name first came out of your mouth. He only nodded hoping you could see that desperate attempt at confirmation in the darkness.

"Okay," you said hiding a smile in your pillow, squeezing his hand "Good night then, Satoru."

"Uh-huh," he barely got it out of him and squeezed his eyes shut, extinguishing his hitched breath against the pillow. He squeezed your hand in return.

You checked on Tris again. She was breathing slowly and deeply - still asleep. You exhaled in relief, gently rubbed the tip of your nose against the top of her head, and waited for Gojo breathing to become the same - measured and deep, hoping you could do the same with him.

***

You gave up at 4:30 in the morning.

The room was hot and cold - you were terribly cold, though sweat ran down your back. Every time you closed your eyes, instead of seeing vivid and fake images, you were only protecting yourself from the intrusive thoughts. You couldn't even turn from side to side to soothe your soul, so as not to wake up two people who were sleeping peacefully.

You climbed over them as carefully as you could, and finally removed the sticking strands from your forehead.

They were sleeping so peacefully. You swallowed bitterly, adjusted the battered blanket and covered them, then moved quietly toward the door. At the door you turned around, opened your mouth as if you wanted to say something, but then stopped and slammed the door shut as you stepped out into the hallway. As you passed the mirror, you looked at yourself, and your reflection looked as if it had been hurt.

You walked down to the kitchen, and the first thing you encountered was Frank's back. "Hey," you quietly called out to him, but his back flinched anyway.

"Not sleeping again?" he mumbled his question stashing something in his pocket.

You approached him silently, and he immediately pushed back near chair inviting you to sit down. Glancing at his pocket, you walked up to him from behind and put your chin on the top of his head hugging him by the shoulders. "Ya miss her?"

"Every day," he whispered. He stroked your forearm, and after smacking the back of yours, he stood up. "Sit. Now that ya're awake, let's have breakfast."

You sat down obediently this time and watched as Frank worked in the kitchen. He took the meat out of the refrigerator, threw it in the oven to heat, while he boiled water, and chopped vegetables for the salad.

When he was done, you had a plate of meat, a bowl of salad, a mug of tea, and a loving father in front of you. "Thank ya," you thanked him picking at the meat with your fork, separating it into fibers.

"No appetite?" he asked popping a piece of tomato into his mouth. "Ya eat your vegetables. It has vitamins in it. Look at Rachel - she ate cabbage all her childhood and no problems. Not physical, not mental."

"Uh-huh," you stretched out, and sipped your tea from your mug. "Only alcoholism, but that's basic."

You received a soft slap. "Eat," he said, but nothing changed: you continued to mash your food with your fork. Frank dropped the cutlery into your plate with a clang. "I can't do this. What's wrong? What's bothering you?" he asked worriedly, lifting your chin with his finger and forcing you to look him in the eye.

You exhaled convulsively, and placed a clear bag of creamy beige dust on the table.

Seeing it, Frank was seized with panic. "How did ya...," he almost gasped. "Fuck, do ya have any idea what those fucking monopolists calling themselves higher-ups will do to ya if they find out about this?"

"Whatever," you waved it off indifferently. "Frank, I have no gardening skills. Especially since the black orchid is a very... um, demanding flower. Ya're the only one who can help me," you looked into his eyes hopefully.

Frank fidgeted tapping his fingers on the table, shifting his gaze from the bag to you, and back again. "What are you planning?"

"Not completely sure yet," you said rubbing your forehead, trying to hide from his eyes. He put his big hands around your face, once again wanting to see honesty.

As soon as he saw your eyes, his own anxiety swept over him. "Ya...," he stammered stroking your cheeks with his thumbs trying to reassure you. "It's okay, it's okay. I'll do everything," he assured you, and with what was the strength of a father's love - cradled you against him as you tried to quiet your ragged breathing. "Come on, let's go to the well," he stroked your back, his fingers feeling every scar whose origin you never told him. "We'll get some fresh air; get some water at the same time. Then ya'll take a bath," you nodded weakly at his suggestion, and rose from your chair as quickly as you could and rushed forward, tugging your blackened hair into a messy ponytail.

***

A rustling sound beneath the window and a soft poke on his cheek finally made him raise his eyes. Not realizing where he was, Gojo sat up jerkily pulling the blanket with him causing Tris, who had been sitting on it, to fall back onto the pillows.

Panting and squirming, Tris rose again and sat down next to him. "Where's Y/N?" she asked menacingly.

"Where...," Gojo mumbled sleepily, rubbing his face with his hands. "Mom abandoned us," he summed up disappointedly, looking at empty side of the bed. "Are you hungry?"

Tris nodded.

Gojo picked her up in his arms. "Come on then, let's go brush our teeth and I'll make you something," he was prevented from turning around by another crackling sound outside the window. Seeing the familiar flow of cursed energy, still holding Tris in his arms, he walked over to the window, but there was nothing to see because of the patterns; turning the knob, Gojo opened it.

Down below, in several sweaters and an oversized jacket, hat pulled to the side, Megumi was chopping wood. His cheeks were redder than usual, and he was out of breath; after a moment to catch his breath, Megumi brought the axe over his head once more.

Barely containing his laughter, Gojo reached for his phone. "Smile for the camera!" he shouted, and Megumi darted a glance upward and was greeted by a large number of flashes. Gojo only stopped when the axe flew into the wall with a crack, an inch from the window. "Rude!" he shouted indignantly, and with a jerk he closed the window.

***

Gojo hummed long and thoughtfully as he assessed the contents of the refrigerator. The fridge was full of food - a lot of it, and it was all different. The problem was he had no idea what to do with it. "Do you like scrambled eggs?" he asked glancing at Tris over his shoulder.

"Yeah," she muttered. She was trying to fold the poor paper plane again, and Gojo was already getting a smack on the hand when he tried to help.

Turning on the electric stove, he washed the eggs and beat them straight into the skillet. 'Maybe I should put some milk in it?' he thought to himself rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 'But that would be an omelet, and we agreed on scrambled eggs. Though... Whatever,' and with these thoughts he poured milk into the pan and stirred the resulting mixture with a spatula. "And if I put some cheese in it..." he mumbled aloud.

Ten minutes later, he placed a plate of cheese omelet, neatly sliced tomato and cucumber in front of Tris, and slid her a glass of water and a cup of hot chocolate.

Tris froze. Gojo had managed to distract her from the paper planes after all, and she shyly pushed the plate closer to her. As she tasted what he had prepared for her, she smiled at him for the first time with all her teeth. "Thank ya," she babbled softly.

Gojo chuckled softly. She was too much like you for a foster child.

The front door opened and Frank, paired with the snow falling off him, stepped into the house. "Good morning," he greeted them in a brisk bass and set the huge buckets of water on the floor. "Awake? That's a good thing. Everyone else is already decorating the town, so join."

As soon as she heard the word 'decorate', Tris swept everything off her plate and drained her mug of hot chocolate ignoring the glass of water completely and ran to get dressed.

Looking at her unsuccessful attempts to pull on her boots due to the rush, Gojo reached out to help. "I'll do it myself!" she squirmed. A carbon copy.

After waiting patiently for Tris to get dressed, Gojo took her in his arms and left the house. He didn't even have to ask which way to go; the music was playing in the right place.

Gojo had no sooner come down the hill than he became more and more surprised as people kept coming towards and away from him, and they looked too happy. He didn't know or recognize any of them and probably they didn't know him either, but every person he passed congratulated him with a friendly smile, and he only looked back at them in bewilderment.

All the houses already had garlands that flashed and shimmered, and on every porch hung a wooden 'paper plane' that swayed from side to side. Closer to the center of town, the houses were painted with chaotic lines of color, and the lines shone as brightly as the sun at its zenith. Out of the corner of his eye, Gojo caught a glimpse of Ryan running along one of the houses and running his hand along it leaving a bright red glowing streak on the house.

There was laughter and loud conversations everywhere, he could even hear the cork popping from a bottle of wine. The air was filled with the smells of fresh baked goods, cotton candy and raspberry lemonade.

Some people were standing on stepladders right in front of the house - hanging colorful paper lanterns. A woman shouted at a man to redo everything, because the lanterns looked out of place.

All the roads had been cleared of snow, and it made the town seem bigger than it had the first time. The whole town seemed different from the day before.

Familiar silhouettes appeared on the horizon.

"Y/N!" exclaimed Axel joyfully. "Look what I can do!" he clapped his hands together loudly, and glowing golden sparks sprinkled from them - so tiny they were a hundred times smaller than a firefly. He swung his hands upward in a sudden motion, and the sparks obediently soared into the air flying over the town. "Kyle taught me," he added defiantly.

"Not bad," you said grinning. "It'll be especially nice when it gets dark," you said, and you were about to go back to painting Mike's face, but from over Axel's shoulder came two figures - one so wrapped in winter clothes that it looked like a balloon, and the other with windswept hair that was whiter than snow.

"Finally!" you exclaimed. "I thought ya were gonna oversleep," you gently put your arm around Mike's face and leaned his cheek against yours. "Say, do we look like a tiger?"

"Definitely," laughed Gojo sitting down next to you in the chair. "Now, growl," he turned to Mike. There was a fierce childish growl. Holding back a laugh, you turned Mike around to face you again. As you drew out the black and orange stripes, a bunch of people swept past you, humming and dancing. "So there are a lot of hunters after all," Gojo remarked.

"A couple or three houses would be enough for the hunters, not a whole town," you said concentrating on drawing Mike's stripes. "There's mostly people from the void here."

"You're not bringing them home?" he asked frowning his eyebrows.

"We bring some of them back, of course. We do some memory work, and then we let them go. But the rest... Uh, I don't know. Imagine ya're a coachman from the 18th century, ya've done your day's work and ya're rushing home to your wife and kids. And on the way home, some boogieman drags ya into a completely empty and cold place. And if ya didn't die of cold or disease, ya just wait, and it's unclear what you're waiting for. Death, I guess. Until ya come across a person who carries time with them and can get ya out of there. Only... it isn't your time anymore," you fell silent examining the result on the boy's face. "So ya come out and everywhere instead of horses there are incomprehensible rolling boxes, people talking on some rectangles, and in place of your house and your neighbors' houses now stands a huge shopping mall. And ya are standing there, and ya have no more people you knew, no more profession, no more wife, no more children. Ya'll never come back home again because you don't have it anymore. So that's how Hopetown came to be," and when you were done, you kissed Mike on the top of his head, and he squealed so you wouldn't ruin the coloring and ran off to the other kids to show off.

While you stared at the boy, Gojo looked at you and didn't know whether he wanted to hold you or shake you by the shoulders so you'd come to your senses. Shoko's words about you having no regrets came to mind.

You could have been anything to him - private, insensitive, hysterical, kind, angry - and he would have understood every feature, but he still couldn't grasp it: how much do you have to love life to have the courage and strength to give another chance to live it to others? You've paid too unfair a price for that.

The only thing he wanted was for you to stop hiding.

When Gojo mustered up the courage to say something to you, you were distracted by a phone notification.

[11:54am] Frank: Incident. We're short on torches. Go to the storage and see if there are materials

[11:54am] You: Ok

"Can you draw?" you turned to Gojo getting up from your chair

"I can do anything," he said smiling smugly.

You didn't get a chance to say anything before there was a rumble and a clink of broken glass behind you. When you turned around, you saw Danielle slumped on the terrace of the bar and a box lying next to her. Pieces of broken glass were scattered across the terrace, floating in the spilled wine. "Dany," you mumbled worriedly, running up to her. There was a crunching sound of glass beneath your feet. "What's wrong with ya lately?" you asked wrapping your arms around her waist and lifting her to her feet. Her pale face looked up at you, not even pink from the freezing cold.

"Nothing," she muttered smiling weakly. "Not feeling well lately, a little sickening."

You rounded your eyes. "Dany," you whispered, and leaned closer to her ear. "Did ya take pregnancy test?"

"What?" she resented weakly. "No, I haven't, we haven't yet... We... Well, uh, ya know," she burrowed into the collar of her jacket in shame.

"Okay," you nodded. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

A concerned Megumi ran up to you. "Is everything okay?" he asked excitedly, and you stepped aside giving him access. "I'll walk her over," picking her up by the waist, he told you.

As you watched them follow, Gojo came up behind you from behind and put his hands on your shoulders. "What happened?"

"I don't know," you shook your head chewing on the pad of your thumb without realizing it. "What ya doing here?" you asked turning back to him. "The kids are waiting for ya, go on."

"I can actually help out in the storage too," Gojo muttered pouting his lips.

"You've already got an assignment and I'll manage on my own somehow," he snorted something grudgingly in protest, but went back to the kids nonetheless.

You slipped your jacket over your shoulders and tied your scarf around your neck, and headed for the storage. You were about to round the corner of the house when Itadori called out to you. "Wait, I'm coming with you! We're out of paper lanterns!"

"Where ya going without a jacket, ya dumbass!" shouted Axel after him. "It's half an hour to the storage, put it on!"

***

You wandered between the racks, Itadori searching the shelves for boxes of decoration, and you looked around every corner of the room for a barrel of resin. Finally, seeing a yellow cross-painted in paint on one of the barrels, you approached it. "Itadori, give me a hand," the kid immediately jumped down from the rack and was beside you.

The two of you dragged the barrel to a table that stood against the wall, on which empty crates of wooden sticks and old rags already stood. "Do you need help?" asked Itadori sincerely.

"Nope," you patted him on the top of his head, and took a stick from the drawer. "Grab your decoration and run to the others, I'll be right back."

"Got it," Itadori said, and in two jumps, he was already at the rack where he'd left his box. You were already holding the end of the stick in the resin, slowly cranking it, and behind you came Yuji's confused voice that mumbled 'Hello', but no one answered him. You rolled your eyes, and taking the tip of the stick out of the barrel, tapped it against the edge to get rid of the excess tar.

A glimmer of golden hair and the outline of a sharp chin showed from the side. "Good afternoon," Nathaniel greeted you taking one of the sticks and dipping it in the tar. Meanwhile, you were winding the rag around yours trying to get the fabric as tight as possible. "How's the work coming along?"

"Not bad," you said sniffing your nose. "Although there are getting to be too many loners in the void. Ya know anything about that?"

"That's not our area of responsibility," Nathaniel noted phlegmatically. "How's Frank doing?"

"He's fine."

"How's everyone else doing?" he kept trying to keep the idle conversation going by handing you a stick and picking up the next one.

"Same."

"You haven't found a settlement yet?"

There was the sound of tearing fabric. You wrapped the torch tightly around it, and folded it neatly into the empty box. "That's not your area of responsibility. The small talk has gone on long enough."

"Tell me, since when do you stick to the tactic of keeping your enemies close?"

"What are ya talking about?" you ask without taking your eyes off the case.

Nathaniel exhaled irritably, the overly forceful impact of the stick hitting the metal barrel echoed throughout the large storage. "You're aware the kid stayed near you, only to finish you off?"

"Well...," you stretched out chuckling. "I suspected something was amiss. I couldn't have such a miracle fall on my head for free."

"Is this a joke to you?" hissed Nathaniel, oblivious to the torches. You were calmly wrapping the cloth around another stick. "He's been walking all over you for a year now, how do you live with it?"

"A year, ya say," you thought for a moment. "You mean he made a deal with ya a year ago?

"With Christian," Nathaniel pointed out, and noticing your indifferent state, began to calm down himself. "Yes, almost a year ago."

"Well, why did you mess with my head?" you asked, and tossed the finished torch into the empty box not so neatly anymore. "What was it you said back then? 'They are planning something'? Couldn't you have said it sooner?"

"You mean why didn't I give details near our headquarters? You could have thanked me for warning you at all."

"Well, thank you."

"Get rid of him," Nathaniel hissed sternly as if commanding.

"Uh?" you went into a momentary stupor. "I won't do that. He's had a year to kill me and he hasn't even tried."

"Because he knows that- Ahem, that you can't be killed in this state," Nathaniel paused hoping nothing would happen. "He's been notified that your emotions make you weaker-"

"My emotions make me stronger," you interrupted him in a stubborn tone, but further on your voice grew weaker with each word. "But nothing good about that," you added in a near whisper.

"If you don't want to kill him yourself, then order me to."

The skin on your wrist hissed. "Ouch!" you exclaimed quietly rubbing a tiny glowing crosshair on the sore spot. "It hurts," you blurted out glaring at him. "Look, I know going around in debt is a nasty business, but I'm gonna to order ya to do it."

"Then why did you even make me promise to you if you don't use it?" he asked irritably.

"Uh... for fun?" you replied shrugging your shoulders in doubt. "I did you a favor, and you had nothing to charge at the time. Well I just wanted to test how the promise system works. Actually, I don't give a damn what you're saying. He's not that kind of person. Don't mess with my head."

"I shouldn't have approached you in the first place. You're just...," he sighed contritely, resting his hands on the table, not looking up at you. "You're the most immature and irresponsible person I've ever met," he shook his head dejectedly. "Even when I communicate the threat directly to you, you can't get rid of it," he met only your silence, your blank stare, and the mechanical movements of the hands that tied the cloth on the torch. "God," he said in a hoarse voice. "Don't tell me you're in love with the kid."

***

Itadori had stuffed too much into his box - he had to keep peering out from behind the mountain of paper lanterns stopping every now and then to avoid slipping.

Once again, Yuji looked out and spotted the familiar figures, and took in more air. "Hey! Need help!" he shouted. Axel immediately ran over to him, and promptly dumped half of the contents of the box into his own. "Thanks," Itadori said smiling.

Gojo watched all this perplexedly, completely forgetting that he was drawing a frog on Tris's face. "Itadori!" he called out to Yuji, and the boy setting the box down, ran up to his teacher. "Where's Y/N?"

"She stayed in the storage," murmured Itadori tiredly but cheerfully. "Some other man came to see her and..."

What?

"...he didn't even say hello back. He's kinda old, I didn't know that elderly could be so rude. But he has cool hair color, golden, I think..."

What?

"...he seemed to stay there with her."

If Yuji had said another word, a painful whimper would have come out of Gojo. His eyes blurred and he could barely squeeze out words while maintaining his usual attitude. "Itadori, where's the storage?"

"Over there," Itadori said pointing to the bridge. "Over the bridge and immediately to the right, that big hangar with the red doors. Sensei?" asked Itadori dumbly when he saw Gojo immediately dash toward the storage.

***

Gojo leaned his forehead against the cold metal door and frantically tried to catch his breath. His side stung, and his heart was beating so furiously that he didn't know whether it was the sound of snow crunching under his feet or his ribs breaking. He could hear your voices, but mostly Nathaniel's - you were either silent or humming. Gojo squeezed his eyes shut with force trying to listen.

"...for what it's worth. I'm not thrilled with our current politics myself, but I guess I'll agree with them on this one. You don't belong in this world."

Gojo's chest ached when he heard your voice. You sounded confused. "I don’t belong in their world either. Where should I go, then?"

"You have the answer to that question. Only you don't have the guts or the courage to do it," Gojo felt like tearing Nathaniel's vocal cords out. He didn't dare speak to you in such a condescending tone. No one did.

"Hey!" Gojo's shout was more like a growl, but turning toward him, you saw nothing but a casual, serene smile. "Frank said you need help here," he said in a soft voice. Gojo came over to you and put his arm around your shoulder, furtively throwing a warning glance at Nathaniel.

"Deal with it yourself," Nathaniel tossed over his shoulder waving his hand carelessly in farewell.

Gojo gave him a look, and after making sure that this dirt was no longer here, cupped your cheeks. "Everything okay?" he tried his best to hide the worry in his voice.

"Yeah...," you stretched out. "Yeah, everything's okay," you added in a more confident voice. "I just got another round of bad for doing things the wrong way."

His hands slid down your back, and he pulled you against him. "You know," Gojo mumbled into the top of your head. "I've cut out my higher-ups. I can do the same with yours, if you want."

You chuckled weakly. "I see ya're bloodthirsty."

"You bet," Gojo confirmed nose burrowing into your hair.

You didn't put your hand on his waist, didn't ruffle his hair, didn't nuzzle your nose into his neck, and it was the first time you hadn't responded to his touch. A chill ran down his back, and he gripped the fabric of your jacket tighter with sweaty palms. He was willing to do anything stupid or say anything nonsensical to get you to do something.

"I wouldn't mind it myself, but the hunters would revolt. I'm not sure I have the strength to fight on two fronts," you said. You don't have the strength? That sounded like utter nonsense. Or are there some other forces he's not aware of? "Ya're kinda here to help," you remarked poking him in the side. He exhaled in relief.

"So what you're saying," he began gently nibbling your sides, which made you laugh softly and squirm. "That hugs are useless?"

Sure, hugs were helpful - they produce oxytocin in the brain. Nevertheless, right now you felt like you'd first fallen into a trap from which there was no escape.

next ⊳

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

Text

Bigger Than The Whole Sky ☁️ | Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: pilot!reader (call sign: Cloud) x Dagger Squad (platonic), Best friend!Natasha Trace x reader

Content Warnings; major angst, major character death. Description of car accidents caused by drunk driving, blood, and fatal injuries. Sudden miscarriage. Mention of teenage pregnancy & dysfunctional family dynamics. Emotional with no happy ending—read at your own risk. Profanity. | female reader (she/her) | wc: 7.5k+

Premise: It was supposed to be a happy reunion, instead it ended in tragedy. Saying goodbye to friends was not uncommon for their job, but never did it get easy. For the members of the 2019 Top Gun detachment, the last thing they expected was for a senseless accident to take away one of their own. In their grief they relive memories of the woman who, in their eyes, was bigger than the whole sky.

Note: I’m sorry.

—————————————

Gray clouds painted the sky. A fitting yet cruel joke for those who stood below on the grass, staring ahead past the hills as though they could not see the caskets before them. One of which had the American flag draped over the white painted wood. Light rain dripped down from the skies, mixing with the tears cascading down the cheeks of every guest. Off to the side stood six servicemen holding rifles, awaiting their time for the 21 gun salute.

A final send off to their sister in arms.

Dressed in their Dress Whites, members of the uranium enrichment plant mission stood behind the family of Lieutenant Y/n ‘Cloud’ L/n.

Cloud. ‘What an odd call sign’ many of them thought when they first met her in October of 2019. Soon they realized it was perfect for the pilot who always appeared like she was on Cloud 9. Never had they met someone with so much optimism and bliss. Even after getting to know Y/n and discovering all she had gone through in her life, they could not believe she lived everyday with a smile.

From the beginning, Y/n was dealt with a challenging life. Father wasn’t in the picture, mother working two, sometimes three jobs to keep them afloat leaving Y/n to take care of her siblings. A social life was none existent, therefore Y/n put all her focus into caring for her family and school. She worked her ass off in school in hopes of getting a scholarship to college for it was her dream to become a fighter pilot. Having done Navy JROTC all four years in high school, Y/n learned the beauty of aviation, taking school trips to air shows and museums which made the desire grow. At seventeen her dreams were nearly put on hold when she fell pregnant to her high school boyfriend the summer going into senior year. The relationship with her boyfriend didn’t last once the news broke, leaving Y/n to face the reality her own mother went through.

Determined to achieve her dream and give her baby the life they deserved, Y/n got a job as a hotel receptionist while finishing high school. Instead of going to prom, she was in the hospital where she gave birth in March of 2005 to a baby boy she named Atlas. A healthy and perfect baby who stole her heart in ways only a mother would know. Atlas gave Y/n hope. He was her motivation to do better. Being his mother gave Y/n an endless state of bliss, always starting her day with a smile, with the goal of bringing nothing but happiness to Atlas’ life. He would never know hardships like she did. And although his father wasn’t in the picture, Y/n would be both mom and dad.

Good news and bad news came with the birth of Atlas. The good news was Y/n received a full ride to Boston University through their Navy ROTC program after Y/n’s successful interview. The bad, unfortunately, meant Y/n would have to waive her parental rights and give her mother custody at some point before commissioning, as she could not have dependents when coming into the Navy. Until then, Y/n could have her son with her through college. She and her best friend, who also was attending BU, found a little apartment close to campus and coordinated their schedules so her best friend could watch Atlas during Y/n’s morning PT and ROTC classes since her other professors for her major allowed her to bring the baby with her to class. Atlas loved going to Y/n’s classes, sleeping in his carrier or playing with his toys. Sometimes if he got fussy her professors would hold him which made the students' hearts melt.

Much like high school the young woman didn’t have a social life. It was hard to have one, being a full-time student and single mother to an infant. Though her college was paid for, Y/n found a part-time job on campus as a desk assistant for one of the dorms. Doing so allowed her to have Atlas with her while she studied and brought a paycheck to care for him. It was an easy job that pretty much consisted of her watching the lobby and making sure residents were safe. It gave Y/n all the time in the world to get her homework done. All four years she kept the job and split the money between savings and depositing into a trust fund for Atlas.

Commissioned to the rank of Ensign upon graduation from Boston University, Y/n waived her parental rights to her mother, who now had a well paying job and could care for Atlas until Y/n finished flight school and was assigned a squadron. It took a few years, with Y/n seeing her son only for holidays and once in a blue moon but just before Atlas’ eighth birthday Y/n was re-granted custody. She was assigned to the VFA-41, more commonly known as the Black Aces from NAS Lemoore, Atlas became her dependent, the two found a nice home off base to rent. Atlas was enrolled in the base elementary school, and at the end of the school day he’d go to the base youth center where Y/n would pick up after work.

With the Black Aces, Y/n, now known to her fellow aviators as ‘Cloud’ due to constant state of happiness like she was on Cloud Nine 24/7, met Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. A woman who would become one of Y/n’s best friends. Together they made up the small percentage of female aviators at Lemoore, becoming so close they actually decided to be roommates with Natasha moving into the spare bedroom of Y/n’s home. Nat was surprised to learn Y/n had a child when they first met, but grew to see Atlas like a surrogate nephew, the boy always asking Nat to tell him stories and play games whenever Y/n was busy. “Aunt Tasha, can we play Just Dance?”

“I don’t think that’s fair since you always win, little man,” she teases, causing him to pout, “Oh alright. This time I get to pick the first song.”

A year after Natasha was selected to attend Top Gun, Y/n received the same invitation at 27 and therefore Atlas remained at Lemoore with Nat as his temporary guardian. Upon returning life seemed to be hectic with Y/n running mission after mission to the point she considered sending Atlas back to his grandmother. He was now ten and had trouble with the idea of moving. A momma’s boy through and through, the two were very close considering it was only them at one point in life. “No!” He protested, causing her to frown. “I wanna stay here with you. With aunt Tasha and my friends. Please don’t make me go back to grandma’s, momma.”

“Baby, I don’t want you to leave either,” she tells him, pushing away the hair on his forehead. “But I have to go off shore and aunt Tasha might be coming too.”

“Then please ask Jason’s mom if I can stay with them.” Hesitant to ask such a huge favor, Y/n does so for the sake of her son’s happiness. Jason’s mother was an angel, thank God, having no problem with Atlas staying with them whenever both Y/n and Natasha were on assignments. “I owe you big, Gwenyth. I can’t thank you enough for doing this. You’re an absolute lifesaver.”

And so for the next few years Atlas would stay with Jason or another friend’s family during times Y/n and Nat were on missions. It only happened a few times a year, the longest in 2019 when both pilots were called back to Top Gun for a special detachment. Atlas wanted to come with Y/n to San Diego but unfortunately it was in the middle of October during Atlas’ freshmen year of high school. She’d be gone roughly a month with three weeks for training and possibly one for the mission itself. Kissing her son goodbye, promising to call him everyday, Y/n and Nat left for Fightertown.

Coming into the Hard Deck was like deja vu. Dressed in their Service khakis Cloud and Phoenix led Fanboy and Payback into the bar where they met up with Hangman and Coyote, met Natasha’s new backseater, Bob, and reunited with Rooster and Halo. Of all the aviators besides Nat, Y/n only knew Halo coming into the detachment. She only knew Hangman by reputation and Rooster by name through Phoenix. It was the first time meeting everyone else.

When Y/n strolled up to the bar she was met with a bright smile from Penny. “Y/n!” She came around the bar to hug the aviator, “How are you? Gosh it’s been a while—Are you here for the same reason this place is swimming with Top Gun alum?”

Unaware of the Captain sitting at the bar, Y/n smiled back at Penny, “It’s great to see you again, Penny. And yeah, it looks to be that way,” she nods to the group, “Wasn’t told much details, but it must be something big to call that many of us back.”

“How’s your boy? Atlas is fourteen now, right?” At Penny’s question, Maverick’s hand paused as it was bringing his beer glass to his lips. He didn’t know much about his students besides the basics, so this was the first he was hearing one of them had children.

“Yup, God I can’t believe it sometimes. Feels like yesterday he was starting first grade. Now he’s in high school—plans to try out in spring for baseball. He wanted to come with me but it’s currently the middle of the school year.”

Glancing briefly, Mav didn’t find a ring on Cloud’s finger, causing his head to fall. Stress now consumed him tenfold, knowing the details of the mission could very easily have a flag draped coffin as the outcome. Later that night, after getting kicked out of the bar, Mav looked into Y/n’s file to find she was 31, unwed with a teenage son, and had given up parental rights at the beginning of her career before retaining them years later. Doing the math wasn’t hard, Mav piecing together the pilot had her child young. Right there his worst nightmare would be having to face Cloud’s son to tell him his mother died in action.

What should have been a three weeks of training, turned out to be two when the Pentagon received word the uranium plant would be operational earlier than planned. Brutal was the best way to describe the two weeks Y/n endured. Having to push her limits further than anything she’d ever done. At least she could say she pulled 10Gs and survived to say it. In the end she was part of the reserves, going out with Hangman to save Mav and Rooster from a fifth generation fighter.

“Thanks for the backup, Cloud,” Hangman snickered into the coms. “I guess I wouldn't mind having you as my wingman.”

The woman scoffed, but smirked not nemesis, “Please, you were my backup, Seresin.”

“Good eyes up there, Cloud,” Mav complimented. “I owe you big time.”

“Just doing my job, Captain. I’ll see you boys back on deck. And Hangman, I have a three mission rule before accepting candidates for the position of wingman.”

Arriving back to shore, Y/n was shocked to hear a familiar voice calling out, “Mom!” Immediately her eyes landed on Atlas running across the parking lot.

“Atlas?” She grunted when he slammed into her. The 14 year old was nearly as tall as her and full of straight muscle from all the years of sports Y/n had placed him in. Body already sore from the week she had, the impact made her stumble before steadying. Hugging him first, sighing in relief knowing she made it back to him, the pilot pulls away with a look of incredulous, “wha-what are you doing here? Who brought you here?” Before he could answer she looked up to find his best friend Isaac and his parents walking toward them.

“We’re so sorry to show up without warning,” Issac’s father Brian says, nodding to Atlas, “but he grew really worried—we all did, when we couldn’t get a hold of you the last few days. We called the commanding officer and he said you were off shore with the Pacific fleet.”

Y/n mentally cursed, bringing a hand to her nose while apologizing, “I’m so sorry, the cell service on board isn’t good and every time I tried to use the phone on deck there was a line. I’m so sorry for worrying you.”

“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Julie, Issac’s mother told her, smiling softly at Atlas curled into Y/n’s side.

“Thank you for coming all this way—bringing him to me. I’ll compensate you for the gas and time. Gosh, again I’m so sorry.” The couple politely declined, saying it was no trouble at all and to not worry about it. Still, Cloud made a mental note to make it up to them. While Y/n made the arrangements with Issac’s parents to take Atlas back home with her, the teenager sneaked off to find Natasha.

“Aunt Tasha!” The pilot spun around in surprise, a grin forming as she opened up her arms for a hug.

“Hey, little man!” They did their secret handshake after pulling away. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Well you and mom didn’t answer my calls. I thought something bad happened to you two.” His expression indicated he was a little upset. The anxiety the past couple days was nauseating for Atlas, unable to sleep thinking his mom and surrogate aunt by choice were dead.

Nat ruffled his hair, much to his displeasure, “Awe buddy, I’m glad you care about me that much.” Behind the pilot, the guys—minus Mav—appeared as though they suddenly grew two heads, looking between each other as the same questions popped in their mind: ‘Cloud’s got a kid?’

“Will you clowns stop staring and come over here?” Nat rolled her eyes, throwing an arm around Atlas’ shoulder. “Kid I’d like to meet the greatest pilots the Navy has ever seen,” she then lists them off by callsign, “Fellas, this is Atlas L/n. Cloud’s son.” There was an immediate bond between the dagger squad following the mission, and the discovery their colleague had a child—who she had at 17 and the father bailed—resulted in the guys becoming very protective of the two. That night when they celebrated at the hard deck, Y/n found the guys teaching Atlas to play pool and darts while also answering any questions the teenager had. It made her heart sink a bit, longing for Atlas to have that father figure in his life. For 14 years she was both mom and dad. The two amigos against the world.

The men of the dagger squad, including Maverick, became that ‘father figure’ for Atlas, though he referred to them as uncles like Nat was his ‘aunt’. Whenever he needed advice on something Y/n could not give him, one of the guys would be right there for him. Rooster and Atlas bonded over baseball, the two on each other’s team when the whole squad played a game, which was one of the best days the whole group had with each other. “Let’s go, Atlas. Let’s go, my man,” Rooster clapped, edging off of third base as Atlas came up to bat, “Bring me home. You got this.” Y/n was pitcher, giving a mock glare to her son before throwing the ball which Atlas his dead out of the field in a home run. Rooster ran home in glee as he cheered with their team, all waiting for Atlas to arrive back where the pilot lifted him onto his shoulders. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Hangman, much to Y/n’s annoyance, gave Atlas tips on how to pick up women for when he gets older. “The key is to swoon them. Make them feel like they are the only girl in the entire world. Once you do that, you just gotta keep the charm up.”

“Jake, you better not be having my son become a playboy. I will not have it.”

Bob, Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote loved to play games with Atlas, making it a tradition every Saturday night to reserve a few hours to hop online and join Atlas in whatever game they were currently loving. Sometimes it was Call of Duty, other times it was Fortnight (Which mostly occurred during the pandemic), once in a blue moon they would play Among Us for the hell of it or Friday the 13th. On Among Us nights the others, including Y/n, would join in and they’d all use their call signs for their names. Bob and Atlas were an unstoppable imposter duo, always winning whenever they were paired.

“Dammit, not again!”

“Hey, watch the language, Mickey.”

“I still don’t understand what I’m doing.”

“Mav, you gotta just stay alive and defend yourself if you get accused of being the killer.”

2020 was a hard year. One where the team did not meet up in person until nearly a year after lockdown. In the months leading to New Year’s they decided to get together to ring in 2021 together, taking days off and planning in advance. Luckily it worked out, with the team and their partners/families having a blast as they said ‘fuck you, 2020,’ and ‘hello, 2021.’ That night Mav and Y/n were chilling on the back porch of the hard deck while everyone else was dancing and having a good time. The cool breeze was comforting, the two basking in the relaxing tune of the ocean waves.

“I don’t know how you managed to do it,” Maverick said, making Y/n turn to him confused. “Being a single mom so young, getting through college and flight school all on your own and having to make the difficult decision to not have your son with you for four years. I don’t think I could’ve done it. The kid’s lucky to have you, Cloud. You’re an amazing mom and I don’t think you get told that enough.”

Glancing to her feet, Y/n softly smiled, “you know when I found out I was pregnant I was scared out of my mind. Then the man who I thought loved me and would love him walked out, leaving me alone. It felt like I was that little girl again when my dad left and my mom had to pick up the pieces with so many of us,” she paused as the memories flashed in her mind. “My greatest fear was disappointing him—I could’ve never forgiven myself if I did. The first time I held him, and he stared at me with those baby doe eyes, I said, ‘I guess it’s just you and me buddy. You and I against the world.’” In the window she spotted Atlas playing pool with Hangman and Coyote, smiling at the sight. “I used to go through life like it was a constant weight on my shoulders. Then he came along and I felt an endless bliss that never ended—like I was always walking on Cloud Nine. It’s why I named him Atlas, you know,” she turned back to Mav, “after the Greek Titan who holds the heavens and skies. I’m lucky to be his mom. He’s had to sacrifice a lot, had to adapt to things, but managed to stay happy. I’m so grateful everyday he’s never had to deal with what I went through as a kid. He’s happy, and that’s all a mother could ask for.”

Throughout 2021, meet ups with everyone from the dagger squad were roughly every other month. Usually it would be two or three, but not once since the New Year’s party did all of them find themselves under a single roof. They’d all returned to their squadrons or received new assignments. Phoenix and Bob became Top Gun instructors, leaving Y/n in Lemoore. Hangman was still with the Vigilantes, who were also located in Lemoore, and so was Coyote so Y/n saw them the most throughout the year. They came to Atlas’ baseball games and even house sitted when Y/n was on missions. Fanboy, Payback, and Rooster were back in Virginia, but often called to check in every once in a while. The team also had a group chat which was great when planning get togethers.

2022 was to be a big year. Atlas was turning 17 and would graduate high school with a full ride to UCLA in the fall. Y/n was beyond proud, literally on cloud 9 when he told her the news. She also finally allowed herself to open her heart to someone near the end of 2021, connecting with a nice man who was a civilian contractor. For months they saw each other before making it official. Not long after, about halfway through April, both were rendered speachless by the results of a certain test. Y/n was scared shitless again, but this time she didn’t have to worry about him walking out on her because he was more excited than her, spinning her around with joy. Atlas happened to walk in at that moment, saw the test, and nonchalantly said, “I hope it’s a boy. I’ve always wanted a brother,” playfully giving a disappointed look to Y/n, he added, “Thanks for waiting till I’m about to leave to do so.”

Nat was the first person she called, the pilot screaming into the phone, “Oh my God! Oh my God, Cloud! This is amazing—I’m so happy for you! Holy shit!”

“Don’t tell anyone!” Y/n laughed over her screams. “I wanna tell them when we’re all together next month!” To celebrate Atlas’ impending graduation, the team had all planned to meet in Fightertown to have a pre-celebration. Everyone was excited, taking leave just to travel for the weekend.

Never did they anticipate the tragedy that laid ahead.

On a warm late spring evening in San Diego, just as the sun was starting to set, Phoenix, Bob, Payback, Fanboy, Hangman, Coyote, and even Hondo gathered in their usual corner exchanging hugs and greetings before starting the night with a round of beers.

“When are the others getting here?” Payback asked, settling on a stool while Bob and Mickey racked up a game of pool.

“Cloud and Atlas are staying in TLF on base,” Phoenix explained, “They got in about an hour ago and said they’d be on their way once they settled in. Rooster’s picking up Mav—he texted me he’d be leaving in fifteen or so.”

And so they waited. The bar wasn’t too crowded yet, however some people were already pissed drunk. Many of course were servicemen, including the new Top Gun students. One guy was kicked out and another Penny had to take his keys, telling him to call an Uber.

Unfortunately, those at the bar missed how he took them back when Penny was occupied with a customer…….A grave and ill-fated mistake.

Thirty minutes later and still the four the group were waiting for hadn't shown. Checking her phone, Phoenix saw Cloud had messaged her at about 7:55 saying she was on the way with Atlas. Rooster’s message was just five minutes before saying he got Mav and should be there in ten. The bar wasn’t too far from base, so hypothetically all of them should have arrived. Dialing Y/n, Phoenix waited for her to answer, but it went to voicemail after several rings. She then dialed Atlas. Again, no answer. Next was Rooster and Mav. No answer.

Not wanting to jump to conclusions, Phoenix decided to try again in a few minutes in case they were just around the corner. Maybe they got all the red lights. Maybe Y/n had to stop for gas. Maybe Rooster wasn’t in the mood for bar food and got fast food on the way. Nat didn’t want to worry herself, so she put her phone back down on the table and watched the game.

Ten minutes later Pheonix feels her stomach start to flip, “Something doesn't feel right.” The words aloud strengthened her intuition, the air around became unsettling. Dialing Y/n again and trying to keep a calm demeanor, Nat cursed when it went to voicemail again.

“What are you talking about, Trace?” Jake said, standing straight after taking his turn on the pool table. By now everyone’s attention was on the former Black Ace.

“It’s been over half an hour, and they’re still not here,” tapping Atlas’s contact, she pressed the phone to her ear, each ring making her nerves rise. “And no one’s answering,” she dropped the phone to the table, Atlas not answering the call.

Bob came over, dialing Rooster on behalf of Nat, “Maybe the car broke down. I’m sure they are almost here. Let’s not think ahead of ourselves.”

“I don’t—,” Nat waves a hand in front of her, closing her eyes to calm her breathing, “I don’t want to think of the worst…but they should've already walked through the door. None of them are answering—Cloud always answers and if she can’t she texts me to let me know and calls me back the second she can. I-I—-.” The words fall flat when Nat opens her eyes to see Penny, pale-faced and clutching her belly, approach the team. “Penny.”

The guys turn to see the woman, inhaling deeply as they take in her state. Blue green eyes were glossy, her hands were shaking as they hovered over her stomach.

Payback stood from his seat, breaking the silence no one seemed to want to do, “What’s going on, Penny?”

Her voice was low, cracking as she said, “Y-You guys need to come outside. Right now. Mav a-and Rooster are waiting for you.” Relief came at the news Mav and Rooster were there, but did nothing to settle the unease regarding Cloud and Atlas.

Nat was the first on her feet, practically racing out the door and not missing the fact a police officer entered looking completely distressed. The anxiety was nearly crippling, becoming numb as Nat threw open the doors of the Hard Deck—the others following behind, where they all froze at the sight of Mav and Rooster beside the police car in a state of agony.

Like they’d just witnessed someone die.

Nat felt the bile surface in her mouth, swallowing it with a loud gulp as she pointed an accusatory finger at the pilots, “What is that?” No one could miss the large dark red stains painting Mav’s white tee, Rooster’s Hawaiian shirt, their jeans and hands. If it even remotely belonged to them, they’d be hauling ass to the hospital.

But they weren’t injured. And it wasn’t their blood.

Nat made a pained sound, water lining her eyes at their reaction. Behind her Bob’s knees buckled, as did Fanboy’s and they lowered themselves to the ground. Hondo covered his mouth, Hangman grasped his hair while Coyote and Payback seemed to shake their heads like they didn’t want to accept the silent answer.

They were only missing two people.

“Bradshaw,” Nat hissed, anger now in her tone. She didn’t know why she was angry, but it was the first emotion she felt. “Who’s. blood. is. that?” She took a step with each word, still pointing at his stained shirt, daring Rooster to tell the truth. Deep down she wished it could be a lie, but alarm bells took over her entire body. “Tell me right now.”

Knowing Rooster was in no state to talk, Mav gently came in front of Phoenix, willing himself to stay composed. “There’s been an accident….Y-Y/n and Atlas are en route to UC San Diego,” he pauses to take a shaky breath, making Nat’s stomach plummet. “I won’t lie to you—to any of you. It-it doesn’t look good, o-okay. Rooster and I w-were coming around the corner and saw it happen—we think it was a drunk driver. They were struck head on. We got them o-out and stayed until the ambulance came.”

Now it made sense why a cop was at the bar. If it was a drunk driver who hit them, it was likely they came from the Hard Deck. Phoenix vaguely remembered seeing Penny take away a guy's key cause he was plastered. Never would she allow someone to drink at her bar and get behind the wheel.

Nat’s breath caught in her throat, tears slowly falling down her cheeks, “How bad, Mav? How bad is it?” Judging by his reaction, he didn’t want to say—a haunted look in his eyes. It only made Nat angry.

“How about we go to the hospital, okay? That way the doctors can tell us—.”

“Goddammit, Mav, she’s pregnant!” The only ones who didn’t react with absolute shock were Mav and Rooster, meaning Y/n had to have told them. She had to have been awake when they pulled her out. Her voice cracked again, “S-she’s pregnant. She was planning to tell everyone tonight,” she ended the sentence with a sob. “Oh God, don’t tell me they’re dead. N-No!”

Letting his own tears fall, Mav gently pulled Phoenix into a hug, careful not to let any of the blood stain her clothes. While the two were embraced, Hangman pleaded to Maverick, “Just please tell us right now they were alive when you pulled them out.” Rooster is the one to give the answer, finally speaking after staying silent for so long.

“Cloud passed out right when the ambulance pulled up,” he pauses to let them take it in…before giving the devastating news. “Atlas wasn’t breathing.”

“Oh my God,” Bob hurried to the trash can, feeling like he was about to spill his guts. Nat let out a muffled scream into Mav’s chest, already feeling the loss of her nephew. In tears Fanboy muttered, “Fuck,” as did Coyote. Hangman sank to his knees, while Hondo and Payback looked to the sky in a silent prayer.

“The paramedics were working to get it back,” Mav assured, but it was to no avail. “Let’s all go to the hospital and be there for them. That’s all we can do now.”

No one was in the right mind to drive themselves so Ubers were called. The whole way everyone was quiet or silently crying. Mav had the difficult job of calling Cyclone, who would in turn get in touch with Y/n’s commanding officer, who would then relay the news to her family.

Rooster couldn’t stop replaying the crash.

He’d just picked up Mav, the two catching up as they drove to the bar when they approached a red light in a four-way intersection. They would have turned left once they got the green light, so they waited patiently for it to change. Both had turned forward just in time to witness a silver Hyundai Sonata get completely rammed head on by a speeding black Ford truck as they were coming into the clear intersection. The force of the impact crushed their hood, pushing the poor little Sonata back until it spun away and rolled once over.

“Holy shit!” Without hesitation Rooster and Mav flung the doors of the Bronco open, racing to the Sonata as fast as they could. They could see gas spilling from the car, a tell tale sign it could explode given it was still running. The windshield was destroyed, the front bumper nonexistent. As Rooster used all his strength to get the driver’s door open, the two were met with a gruesome discovery when it finally opened to reveal the bloody and bruised face of their friend they were just minutes from seeing at the bar. “Oh—oh my God,” Bradley furiously worked to unbuckle her seatbelt, “Oh God, Cloud.”

The entire left side of Y/n’s face was covered in blood, spilling from the nasty contusion on her temple. Judging by the crack on the driver’s window they put it together her head collided with it. The other half they could make out pieces of glass from the windshield embedded into her skin. Burns from the airbag and seatbelt were visible on her neck. Her right arm was at a bad angle, so was her left leg which was being crushed due to the hood caving in. And that was only what they could initially see, not counting what internal injuries she sustained.

Coughing, which came out more like a wheeze because her chest was on fire, Y/n put all her energy into saying, “G-get him o-out. M-Mav-M-av…Atlas—get A-atlas out. Please.” The Captain cursed, remembering the boy was with her. The shock from discovering it was Cloud in the car made his entire being blank. Now adrenaline kicked in and he was rushing around the car to get the boy out. With the car running and gas spilling it could blow at any second. They needed to get them out fast and far away from the vehicle.

Rooster hated having to cause pain to Cloud, but her legs were broken and stuck so he had to do what was needed for her to have a chance at surviving. “Baby, put your arm around me okay—I’m gonna drag you out. It’s gonna hurt but I promise I’m gonna make it quick. On the count of three,” Weak and pushing herself to stay awake, Y/n put her good arm around Bradley’s neck, leaning into him when his own went under her thighs and around her back. A light scream escaped her followed by a choked gasp. Rooster apologized, “I know, I know, baby. I’m sorry. On the count of three, Cloud—okay, one…..two….three!” All his strength and adrenaline combined helped him get Y/n out of the vehicle, the woman screaming in his ear. He ran all the way to the Bronco, noticing more people had stopped to help. Some guys in flight suits were attending to the driver of the truck and another man was with Mav, taking a crowbar to open the door to Atlas.

Setting Y/n down as gently as he could, Rooster hurried to get his phone from the car, dialing 9-1-1 in a flash. Y/n was shaking from the pain, Rooster unable to imagine what she was going through. He took her hand in his, kneeling beside her as the operator answered, “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

“My-my friend and her son have been in an accident. They were crossing the intersection just off the freeway heading away from NAS Fallon. We’re about two miles from the Hard Deck bar,” Rooster looked up to find Maverick and the good samaritan dragging Atlas’ limp body toward them. “A black truck was speeding and crashed straight into them. I don’t know about the other driver—bu-but my friend and her son are badly hurt. We need an ambulance here immediately.” Y/n squeezed Rooster’s hand, gasping for air, causing him to look back at her. It broke his heart to see her so scared. “Help is coming, Cloud. Just hang in there.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Rooster’s stomach dropped at the sight of Maverick performing chest compressions on Atlas. “What’s happening, Mav?”

The teenager looked worse than his mother. Nearly unrecognizable by the injuries sustained to his face, The airbag no doubt broke his nose, glass coated his skin, both his legs were bent awkwardly, and a small piece of metal impaled his side. Then Mav gave a grim look, shaking his head, “he’s not breathing.”

“W-what?” Y/n wheezed, pulling Rooster’s attention again. She saw the blood drain from his face, the man pushing her cheek so she couldn’t view the scene behind him. “He—h-he’s not..breathing? Roo—.”

“Cloud, keep your eyes on me,” he gently cradled her cheek, not caring blood was getting all over him. Rooster didn’t want his friend to see the state of her son, especially when it wasn’t looking good for him. Y/n kept calling for Atlas, sobbing when he didn’t answer her. Rooster was having difficulty keeping composure, “Mav is with him—he won’t leave his side. I promise you. Just stay focused on me.”

“Is her son not breathing, sir?” the operator’s worried tone made him blink, forgetting he was on the phone with 9-1-1.

“N-no, no he’s not. My Godfather is currently doing CPR.”

“Paramedics are enroute, have him keep doing compressions until they take over.” Rooster relays the information, all while trying to calm Y/n as she starts to cry.

“My b-baby,” she groans as a new wave of excruciating pain consumes her body. “Roo—ba-baby.”

Thinking she was referring to Atlas, Bradley shushes her, “Your baby is right here, Y/n. Mav is with him—he’s not going anywhere.”

“C’mon kid,” he heard Mav grunt between compressions, “Stay with us. Breath, Atlas. Breath, kid, c’mon!” In the distance sirens could be heard.

“N-no!” Y/n cries suddenly, good hand going to her stomach at the feeling of her womb being torn to shreds, followed by the feeling of moisture in her underwear. Rooster saw the action, look of horror on his face as Y/n kept repeating, “Ba-by. My bab-y. It hurts. Roo it hu-rts.”

“Fuck,” he pulled the phone away, tears springing his eyes. “Oh God.” Hand shaking so bad, he didn’t know how he managed to bring the phone back to his mouth, “My friend just told me she’s pregnant and she’s having pain in her lower abdomen.” The sirens were getting louder, and Y/n’s eyes started to flutter causing Rooster to panic.

“Cloud, stay awake. Don’t close your eyes yet, the paramedics are almost here,” he lightly slapped her cheek, the pilot groaning.

“M-my head hur-urts, Roo. Ev-everything hurts,” Clouds good hand went to her temple, coating it in blood as she winced and shivered. “I feel…I feel tired Roo. My-my head hurts so bad.”

Rooster’s swallowed, holding back the tears threatening to fall. Words could not describe the agony consuming him that his friend, who likely just lost her baby, was dying and her son was too. “I-I know, baby. I know it hurts—but Y/n you gotta stay awake. You gotta stay strong for Atlas,” her eyes were still fluttering, but at the mention of her son she took in a choked breath. Rooster could tell she was fighting back the urge to fall asleep. “That’s it, Cloud. Just keep your eyes open. We’re gonna get you and Atlas to the hospital and you two are gonna be okay.”

As the ambulances pulled up, Rooster stayed by Y/n’s side while they worked to get Atlas on the stretcher. Mav came over to them when the paramedics took over, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder while they encouraged her to stay awake. “It’s gonna be okay, Cloud. You guys are going to be in good hands.”

An oxygen mask was placed over Y/n’s nose, the EMT’s strapping her to the stretcher. Rooster continued to hold her hand until they were ready to place her in the ambulance, bending down to leave a gentle kiss on her forehead not covered by glass or blood. “We'll be right behind you, Cloud. We’re gonna go get the others and be right by your side.” The second Rooster finished his sentence, Y/n succumbed to exhaustion. Letting the sleep finally take over.

It unnerved Rooster and Maverick when she did lose consciousness, fear surfacing at the possibility she would never wake up. It lingered the entire time they were at the Hard Deck delivering the news and when they arrived at the hospital. By the time they arrived, Warlock and Cyclone were already there and the entire former detachment was escorted into a private room. Penny arrived roughly ten minutes later and the waiting game commenced.

In the corner Maverick was talking with the Admirals, Cyclone telling him, “I got in touch with her commanding officer. He’s on his way from Lemoore and her mother is on a flight to SAN and should be arriving around two-thirty close to three. I’ll send someone to pick her up and bring her straight here.”

Everyone was restless. It was pushing 10 pm and they hadn’t heard anything. They weren’t sure to see that as a good or bad thing. Jake and Javy were kind enough to bring coffee for everyone from the cafeteria, but hardly anyone smiled in thanks.

At around midnight the entire room stood from their seats when the doors opened, a doctor, a nurse, and a lady dressed in a suit. All three wore solemn expressions, enough to make Nat and Penny lose it right there while the Admirals dropped their heads, and the guys lost it after the heartbreaking news was announced.

“I’ve been told you all are here for Lieutenant Y/n L/n and her son Atlas on behalf of her family who are currently traveling from out of state. I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this. The boy was pronounced dead on arrival—the blood loss and the impact alone was too severe. In regards to Lieutenant L/n…we did everything we could, but the injury to her head was catastrophic. There’s no brain activity. I’m so sorry.”

Nat doesn’t remember screaming and collapsing into Rueben’s arms, the two sinking to the ground as she pleads it was a lie and her best friend and nephew were alive. “NO! No-no-nooo!!!” She rammed a first against paybacks chest, the man a complete mess as he let, “Oh God, please no—not them!” But she did.

Bob doesn’t remember sinking to his knees, letting out a broken sob as the doctor continued to say Y/n was on life support and they were awaiting her mother to sign off on pulling the plug. But he did.

Mickey doesn’t remember sliding down the wall, curling into a ball on the ground while silently praying it was all a dream. But he did.

Bradley doesn’t remember kicking a chair into a wall and throwing a cup of coffee against another, “Fuck!!” He just kept cursing. But he did.

Jake doesn’t remember asking about the driver who caused the accident and was pulled away by Maverick, Hondo and Coyote when he attempted to go after him after discovering he was alive and well, “that bastard gets to breath while Cloud and her kids are in the fucking ground!? Dammit let me go! He fucking deserves to be dead-not them!” But he did.

Three lives. Three lives were taken by a senseless tragedy. All because some idiot decided to steal back his keys when he knew he shouldn’t have been driving.

Y/n would never get to have her baby. Never would she be able to share the immense love like she had for Atlas with them.

Her baby, who they discovered was going to be a boy, would never live the life he was supposed to have.

And Atlas would never make it to his high school graduation. Never experience college or fall in love. His life was cut short at the young age of 17. The same age his mother was when she brought him into the world.

For hours they stayed at the hospital and grieved together until Y/n’s heart stopped beating. Her mother arrived, broken and in despair, signing the papers with shaky hands. While her mother remained in the room, holding Y/n’s hand, the squad and admirals plus Penny stayed outside. Nat, Jake, Maverick, Rooster, and Cyclone were the only ones to look through the window at Y/n’s sleeping figure. The others couldn't bring themselves to face the scene, but the door was open for them to hear the steady beep of her slowing heart until only silence was heard.

Using all her strength to be composed, Nat came into the room and stood beside Y/n’s bed. The others watched as she leaned down to kiss her bandaged forehead. Nat’s lips quivered, but she mustered the ability to whisper, “you’re safe now, Y/n, go be with them okay?” Nat stoked her best friends hair, “Atlas is waiting for you in the clouds. We’ll take it from here.”

The day of the funeral the sky was covered in gray clouds, a light drizzle pouring down and mixing with the tears of those in attendance. Three white caskets laid ahead; one draped with an American flag, another covered in black sharpie writing with farewell messages from classmates and friends, and the last smallest in size.

Friends and teammates of Atlas’ high school baseball team were his pallbearers. Y/n’s boyfriend, Maverick, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, Hangman, Payback, and Rooster carried her casket. And Nat, Halo, Y/n’s childhood best friend, and sister held the baby’s.

Y/n’s portrait of her in her Dress Whites stood in front of her casket, as did Atlas’ senior portrait in front of his. A lone teddy bear Y/n had picked out the day after discovering she was pregnant was placed on top of the tiny casket reserved for her unborn baby.

Nat held it together when it came time for her to pin Y/n’s wings into the casket, but the second she lifted her hand to salute as the guns fired off in the distance, the tears flowed at the sight of the sun breaking through the cloundbank. Earth’s atmosphere clearing to allow safe passage for the souls waiting to crossover at the right time. The rain seized, a rainbow in its wake as the clouds turned from gray to white before slowly dispersing into a clear blue sky.

A small smile formed on Phoenix’s lips, a weight lifting off her shoulders. She knew it was all going to be okay.

They were all together. In a place that was bigger than the whole sky.

………………..

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001

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callsign-dexter · 9 months

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My Daughter, My Heart Prolog

Summary: Jake had it good, he had the girl of his dreams, a good job, and a great friend circle until he got called up on a dangerous mission that would be a year-long deployment. He thought to himself that he couldn't break the heart of his love if he didn't return. So, he decided to go ahead and break her heart by moving out. Only he didn't know was that a special little girl would come into his life and make him whole again.

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Ex-Girlfriend (OC: Elizabeth Taylor), Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Angst

Masterlist

My Daughter, My Heart

A/N: sorry for the shortness! It is just a background of Jake having it good until he decided to mess it up.

Prolog Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Jake Seresin and Elizabeth Nicole Taylor were both madly in love with each other. They fell in love their senior year of high school and stayed together throughout Jake's time at the Naval Academy, where he met his only friend Javy Machado aka Coyote, flight school, and her time at college. Javy became quick friends with Elizabeth and to this day keeps in touch with her.

Everything was going well, the relationship was going great until Jake got his deployment papers. He kept them a secret from her and decided to break her heart instead of crushing it if he didn't make it back home. Jake had secretly bought another house and while Elizabeth was at work Jake moved everything he had into the new house. She came home to an empty house, her stuff, the couch, the TV, and all of the bedroom items were still there, but his stuff was gone. She tried to reach out to him but he had already left on his deployment and the only way she found was through Javy. She was devastated, it made her sick and she kept getting sick, especially in the mornings or certain smells. She decided to take a pregnancy test and waited the required time for it to be done and it was positive, she immediately called Javy and explained everything and he was over there in an instant.

She couldn't stay in there any more so she moved to sunny San Diego when she was 2 months along where she met Grant Mason Braxton. They dated 7 months until they decided to get engaged on December 29th. 2 days after they got engaged is when Y/N Y/M/N Seresin was born December 31, 2017. When Y/N was 3 months is when Jake came back from his deployment. He decided to man up and go see her and meet his daughter. He wants to be in her life.

October 2019 Jake 'Hangman' Seresin gets called back to Top Gun with his best friend Javy 'Coyote' Machado. Jake has been in his daughter life for 2 years and it was wonderful. He was the best dad to her and would drop everything for her if she needed him. After finding out that The Daggers are a permanent squad does he actually let them meet his daughter. They were surprised but decided that they liked this Jake.

Elizabeth agreed for Jake to be part of his little girl's life. It's rocky at first but it turns out they co-parent very well. She becomes everyone's favorite and they're all glad that Jake is a little bit nicer because his little girl brings out his soft side.

#My Daughter My Heart #daughter reader top gun #daughter!reader top gun #top gun imagine #jake seresin x daughter!reader

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michaelsfavgirl · 3 months

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‎‧₊˚✧[navigation]✧˚₊‧

˖⁺‧₊˚🎞️✮☎️✮🧸˚₊‧⁺˖ Welcome <3

Blog info, about me, masterlist, my socials, tag system, request rules & and taglist can be found here.

⁎₊✧˚ masterlist, tiktok, twitter, wattpad ˚✧₊⁎

— If you want to be added to my taglist please comment under this post

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ Before you continue ⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

✎ᝰ! DNI if you're racist, homophobic, sexist/misogynistic, transphobic, ableist, xenophobic, fatphobic etc. Any hate will be blocked/ignored. I will not tolerate any kind of discrimination.

✎ᝰ! English is not my first language, therefore, there may be minor mistakes in my writing.

✎ᝰ! This blog will include nsfw material, such as smutty fanfics or me just thirsting over mike lol. So viewer discretion is advised. If this makes you uncomfortable do not engage with my blog, simply block me and move on. Any negativity will be deleted.

✎ᝰ! Keep in mind that I am an university student so I may not be able to publish fics as frequently as you'd like. Be patient with me pls and thank you. (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

✎ᝰ! To add to that if your request hasn’t been answered it’s not because I’m ignoring it but probably because I have someone else’s (who requested earlier) to post before yours. Again, please be patient.

✎ᝰ! I hope you enjoy your time here! My blog is a safe, judgment-free space for anyone who chooses to visit.

✎ᝰ! I don't give permission for any of my works to be copied, translated or reposted in any kind of way and to any other platform.

✎ᝰ! The support and mdni banners are from @cafekitsune

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ About me ⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

✎ᝰ! My name is Kate, I'm eighteen, a Taurus and from west Asia.

✎ᝰ! I have been a fan of Michael Jackson since I was a child but I became a part of the fandom around 2019. My man is my no. 1 on Spotify every single year (yup, yup).

✎ᝰ! I actually had a book on wattpad about mike a few years ago and it was HURRENDEOUS, but I promise that my writing abilities have gotten better :)

✎ᝰ! Please feel free to send me anything in my inbox. (questions, requests, or if you want to simply chat anonymously) I would love to make friends on here and chat with my fellow moonwalkers! So don't hesitate. <3

Here are some random facts about me:

✎ᝰ! My hobbies: watching films, feeding into my delusions (writing fics about michael), playing the guitar, skiing, doing my makeup.

✎ᝰ! My top 5 musicians: Michael Jackson (obvi), Madonna, Queen, Nina Simone, Amy Winehouse.

✎ᝰ! My favorite films: Portrait of a lady on fire, Amelie, Mary & Max, The shape of water, The grand Budapest hotel and Knives out.

✎ᝰ! More facts: i LOVE cinema, it is an art form that should be cherished forever, professional procrastinator, reality shifter, fav color is green, big pop culture nerd, a little acoustic (autistic), addicted to watching edits on tiktok.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ Request rules ⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

✎ᝰ! For now I only write for mj.

✎ᝰ! I will write: smut, fluff, angst, fem!reader, plus-size!reader, most kinks tbh (just ask don't be shy), creampies, dp, somnophilia, ddlg (sexual and non sexual), voyeurism/exhibitionism, watersports, age difference as long as both are of age, threesomes (only mmf).

✎ᝰ! I won't write: male/trans/non-binary!reader, ocs (I only write x reader), hard kinks, knife/gun kink, scat kink, drug consumption, pedophilia, rape, breeding kink, pregnant!reader, pregnancy kink, incest/stepcest, mommy kink, sub!michael, pegging, dom!reader, abuse, degradation kink.

✎ᝰ! Requests are always open unless stated otherwise in my bio.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ My tag system ⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

✎ᝰ! For answering asks: annie’s calling

✎ᝰ! For my writing: kate's writing

✎ᝰ! For thirst posts: dirty diana

✎ᝰ! For misc. posts: wanna be startin somethin

✎ᝰ! For reblogs: reblog

Last updated: March 27th, 2024

Thank you so much for reading! Have a wonderful day/night. ✶𓏲ּ꩜ .ᐟ

#navigation #blog info #blog navigation #about me #tag system #request rules #masterlist #taglist #tiktok #wattpad #twitter #michael jackson

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blueberrykenn · 4 months

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Kennie's Top 10 Yearly Fic Recommendations

Okay so this is the 2nd year of me doing this (but this year I wont delete) butttt I show my top 10 fic and authors for each member/group( some members of bts repeat due to the amount of poly fics I read and its what I mainly read) (A handful of these have smut so heres your warning)

(I would also love to be your guys friends as every single one of you seems absolutely amazing)

LETS GET STARTED

10. @guqwrvte Make it Three (Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung)

Oh where do I start with this fic I found it in the spring looking for a Soulmate fic and oh boy I was in for a ride THREE SOULMATES?! ummm YES and the arcade chapter was ABSOULELY AMAZING! I hope you're doing well Author!! as this fic hasn't been updated in a while

9. @yonkimint Without You (Yoongi with a side of Hoseok or "Jay")

OHHHH BOY When I wanted a love triangle I WAS NOT DISAPPOINTED I found this fic in April looking for angst and ANGST I GOT without spoiling it its a Pregnancy/ Single Mom AU and one of the best ones Ive read in a longgggg time

8. @guksthighs Bloom (Yoongi)

OH BOY This is a recent one actually. This one shot was made SIX YEARS AGO?! OMG Hanahaki AUs are one of my favorites angst type of fics so when I read this I literally sobbed like a baby I cant say much else without spoiling it

7. @kimnjss cyberslut (Yoongi), less of you/VINTAGE (Jimin), Strawberry Kisses(Jungkook)

MISS HAS ALWAYS BEEN ONE OF MY FAVES SINCE 2019 like when I first read beside you YESS I reread Cyberslut and HAD to include it but reading less of you in June as I was dealing with my own breakup it was a tear jerker towards the end of less of you, for me I wont spoil it but there a plot twist that I was not expecting towards the end of the sequel, Vintage. BUT STRAWBERRY KISSES OH MY GAHD I read that on my way home in August even though its a SMUTTY I enjoyed it a lot and the FLUFF I think some people looked at me crazy when I took the bus home that day

6. @skazoo if you tell me about yourself( Stray Kids' Felix)

Okay here me out! Demon Slayer. Its one of my favorite manga and anime series and with CHANBIN as a hashira UMMM YES ynand chanbin are literally Genya and Sanemi if Genya was a girl and not YK (demon slayer spoiler!!) eating demons, but this 2 parter was ABSOULTELY AMAZING

5. @ugh-yoongi a word from our sponsors (Namjoon)

How do you get a idoit podcasters to not realize they have feelings but read smut YOU GET THESE TWO MFERS This one shot was sooooooo good!! like I read a lot of smut but this? TOP TEIR OF ONESHOTS OF 2023

4. @sopebubbles Bulletproof Heart (2Seok)

THIS ROLLERCOASTER If I had to describe my childhood in fanfictions this one would be one (check #1 for the other) I wont say why because spoilers but this angst was OMG THE YOONGI HATE WAS UNREAL NOT MY YOONGLES but I loved it soooooooo much

3.@jihoonotes Yearning(SVT's Woozi)

Lee Jihoon is literally my ult bias. Do I need to say more? ITS WORTH THE READ

2. @solemnreads Way Back Home(Jungkook)

THIS FIC HAD ME FUCKING EVERYWHERE with the twins to CEO Kook THE JEALOUSLY I LOVE IT by far the best exes to lovers fic I read this year

before I tell yall #1 I wanna give an honorable mention to @purpleyoonn they would be on the main list if I was done reading you complete us BUTTTT RED STRING is amazing even though there only 2 parts so far

Okay Okay this should be expected if you been here for a bit

1.@theharrowing Literally anything they write but mainly Rose Tinted Obsessions and Collateral

Boy Blue and Collateral Taehyungs literally Remained me of In between Taehyung so much that I got inspired to write in between again everything I read from them is Absolutely Amazing, Top Tier just Yes DARK FICS are literally my go to so reading them had me sooooo happy and wanting more

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readingwiththereids · 10 months

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yanda! speaks: hello my loves! so this story is quite literally the first piece of work that i have written and actually posted somewhere so i’m sorry if it’s shit. i was a wattpad girlie for a long time so i’m still trying to figure out how to use this app so help is much appreciated (please someone tell me how to set up the request/question thing in my bio, please and thank you.) anywho, thank you so much for reading and i hope you love this story as much as i do! lots of love and light 🤎

masterlist

night rain ; prologue

2019

The wind was crisp and bit at Carmen’s cheeks as he trudged up the stairs of his apartment building. All he wanted was a smoke and a nap, which he fully intended to do as he kicked off his shoes, opened the fresh pack sitting on the kitchen counter and tugged his hands through his slicked curls. His motions, however, were screeched to a halt as her voice travelled through their shared home.

“Carm? Is that you?”

She sounded happy. Her tone instantly relaxed his shoulders as she turned the corner out of their bedroom. “Bear, I’m so glad you’re home. I need to tell you something.” Camila giggled as she threw her arms around his shoulders and smothered his cheek and the crook of his neck in kisses. “Yeah, I’m sure you do, baby. Look, can we please just do this tomorrow? I’m a little tired.” Carmy mumbled while shrugging her off but turning around to kiss her hair and stalk over to the window, lighting the cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Carmy, come on. This is really important, it can’t wait!” she smiled.

The overstimulation caused by the particularly horrible berating he received from Chef earlier that day along with his tiredness and the cold air rushing in from the cracked open window was too much for Carmen, so he blew up.

“God, Cam! Just not tonight, alright? Please!”

There was silence as his voice echoed through the apartment.

“What happened?”

Concern and a slight pang of fear instantly filled Camila’s chest as she took a hesitant step closer to her boyfriend.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just drop it.” he said, growing irritated while pushing past in the direction of the bedroom.

At that moment, a feeling of defence instantly replaced Camila’s one of concern as she whipped her curls over her shoulder and followed, quite literally on his heels.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened today or why you’re taking it out on me but I really think you should check yourself before I stop being so understanding.”

Running his hands roughly down his face, Carmy took a deep breath before looking back up at her and muttering an apology. “I know, I know, you didn’t deserve that.”

Camila sighed before taking a seat on the bed and patting the space beside her which he quickly occupied before settling into her open arms and nuzzling into her chest, causing the two to fall back against the pillows. The brown-skinned woman kissed the crown of his curls as tears started to dampen the spot on her tank top where his head lay.

The quiet air of their room filled with sniffs and quiet sobs as she attempted to comfort him.

“It’s just too much, Cam.”

“ I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

“I just- I can’t handle anything else right now. It’s too much.”

Carmen’s words were met with comfort and care from the woman as she lovingly stroked his hair, prompting him to eventually fall asleep. Once his soft snores finally could be heard, Camila finally allowed her own tears to fall. She hated seeing him like this, so broken over the very reason he woke up in the morning. She hated having to watch him be so overwhelmed and knew right then that she would do anything to preserve his peace at that moment.

And that was why she wouldn’t tell him about the positive pregnancy test sitting in the bin of their bathroom, not yet.

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x oc #the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fx #jeremy allan white fic #jeremy allan white

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saywhat-politics · 10 months

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Iowa’s Supreme Court issued a 3-3 decision Friday that rejects a bid to implement a highly restrictive abortion law passed in 2018, effectively keeping abortion legal in the state until 20 weeks of pregnancy.

The decision Friday ruled against lifting a 2019 injunction on a law passed in 2018 that would restrict nearly all abortions in the state after about six weeks. The law never went into effect. A majority ruling was required to overrule the injunction.

#iowa supreme court

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skepticalarrie · 1 year

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Hi! I am so sorry to ask this and i promise that i genuinely and whole-heartedly mean no ill intent! I was a larrie from 2010 - 2017 and then life got in the way and I fell off. I never stopped believing, per-say but sometime in 2018 or 2019 (time evades me and is a social construct, after all) I looked at BJ's instagram and I cant deny that Freddy looks just like Louis. It was soul crushing for me and I just accepted I was wrong and moved on. But now... im back in it. 1/2

Hey, anon! (I got your third message as well, no worries!). So, quick sum up: I don't think he looks like Louis, I think they were partially lucky that Freddie is a white blond child with blue eyes and the rest is just media fucking brainwashing people and photoshopping Louis' pictures on top of Freddie's. If you look at him side by side with the Tomlinson Family, he sticks out like a sore thumb. Freddie looks like Brett Clark (Briana's stepfather) and his side of the family, so the theory I and most people around here believe is that he's Tammi (Briana's mother) and Brett's son and that they used a surrogate for that, Tammi didn't get pregnant. Briana *definitely* didn't get pregnant, Freddie would actually be her half-brother. And most importantly: Nothing to do with Louis. You do have a lot to catch up, anon! Here are some of my tags where you can find more information: Real parenthood / Surrogate / Fake pregnancy / Photoshopped. I have more babygate tags here, there's an entire section there just for that, so make sure to check that out as well. Good luck and welcome back to the fandom!

#ask

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starryeyedadmirer · 1 year

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Grayson Dolan: Taco Baby

-Grayson x Reader-

!!CW: This one gets kinda dirty!! — Belly Worship (Playing, Rubbing, Kissing, Licking), Navel Worship (Fingering, Kissing, Kissing, etc.), Bloating, Smells/Odors, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex, C*m, Allusion to Mpreg/Pregnancy

Synopsis: You’ve just made your first successful vegan meal in years… and, after enjoying such a wonderful alternative dinner with your boyfriend, Grayson, you’ve only just come to realize how fulfilling — and delicious — that vegan food can truly be. Grayson’s had so many helpings of your culinary triumph that he looks as though he’s fallen pregnant with a big foodbaby… and although the extent of his bloating is initially a bit alarming, you just can’t help but to have a little fun with his new, beautiful, baby bump. He’s just so gigantic… that even his belly button has changed, to resemble that of an expecting mother. The two of you have only just put down such an incredible, healthy supper — and, in the process, created a beautiful (though imaginary) child together — and now, it’s time for a big, pregnant, creamy dessert… to celebrate the conception.

Words: 2,525 (+/-)

A/N: This is an ooolllddd fic, from at least two years ago, that I’ve reposted about a handful of times (without going back through, to revise it)… so, sorry if the writing isn’t the best. I have changed it up quite a bit in the past, but, at some point, I figured that I had rewritten it enough to keep the original atmosphere of the whole thing, while also making it a bit smoother to read. With that being said, I apologize for any mistakes I may have miss (as I honestly don’t want to toil around with it anymore), and I hope you enjoy the read.

Wattpad Link — “Celebrity Worship Fics” Series

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Your taco dinner with Grayson went well tonight — a lot better than you expected it to. Not only did you produce one of the best meals you've ever made in your life, you also discovered that vegan food isn't as bland as you thought... you actually enjoy it quite a bit. Now that your bellies are full, the two of you are curled up together on the couch, half-watching whatever's playing on the TV as you enjoy each other's warmth.

"Wow," Grayson groans, laid between the couch cushions with your head on his chest, "Dinner was great tonight! Nice job, Babe." Though he's already complimented you at least a thousand times since he finished his plate, his flattery still feels as genuine as the first — it just serves to show that your hours of laboring over the stove weren't for naught. "Thanks," you sigh, "I tried really hard on those tacos, Gray. Glad to know my work paid off."

Tonight's meal marks your first success in a long list of kitchen-related failures. After your first breakfast blunder, the Great Crêpe Fire of Christmas 2019, it seemed your culinary losing streak would never come to an end, but tonight's taco triumph has proven otherwise.

Grayson nods his head, poking at the top of yours with his chin. "Yeah, it really did. I think this is the first time in years that I haven't had to pretend to like your food! You know, I used to wait until you left the room to throw it away... but I couldn't get enough tonight. Those tacos were fucking awesome!"

"Wow," you gasp, unsure if you should feel proud or insulted, "Ummm... okay. I knew my cooking was bad... but you could've at least had the decency to tell me to my face... and you, of all people, shouldn't be talking, Mr.Charred Pancakes! I can't believe you used to do that behind my back! You know, pigs will be flying by the time you make something that isn't burned totally black or completely underdone..."

Grayson blows up his chest underneath your head, wrapping his arms tightly around your head and tucking it between his pecs. "Wait... wait. I was just joking, okay," he laughs, "Chill out, Babe. It was just a joke. Calm down. Don't go crazy on me now. I'm starting to feel a little queasy, I couldn't handle you if I tried."

"That's what the hell you get," you yelp, mocking him as you struggle to free your head from under the weight of his bicep, "You said it yourself that you couldn't get enough, and now look at you! Woah, Gray! You're huge! Are your feeling alright?" Grayson's stomach looks nearly three times it's usual size, so big that it's peeked almost halfway out of his shirt. At first, it's nothing too alarming, but the more you stare at it, the more it seems to grow.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," he answers, choking back a burp, "trust me, I am. It's just some bloating. In a few hours, I'll be back to normal."

"Okay, good," you reply, resting your hand on his stomach, "I don't want you throwing up on me or anything. Dinner is always better on a plate, not chucked up from your guts..."

His beautiful brown eyes staring into your soul, Grayson smirks, placeing his hand over yours, and laughing boisterously at the size of his new belly. Suddenly, all the worry you felt before fades away, and you're laughing too. "Ya know, I feel like we're in one of those maternity photos right now," he jokes, entangling his fingers with yours as his eyes scan you up and down, "You know what I mean? The ones where the fathers are all over the moms' bellies, like, kissing them and stuff. It'd be funny if we recreated those pictures, but nobody else is here to take the photos. That sucks."

With your chest still full of laughter, and not a single clear thought in your mind, you slide yourself off from Grayson's chest and kneel down on the floor in front of the couch, playing along with his little joke. "Well, nobody has to be," you chuckle, "See? I'll be the dad in the photo... you'll obviously be the mom... and I'll give you a little smooch." Trying your hardest to contain your laughter, you purse your lips up against his stomach, looking into his eyes as you begin to scatter little kisses around the surface of his skin. Your lips move around in tight circles, landing sporadically around the rim of his belly button. "Mmm," he laughs, his shy grin hidden behind the palm of his hand, "your lips are really warm. That tickles."

It's all for shits and giggles — a new little inside joke — up until you accidentally let a bit of drool slip through your lips. "Oh, fuck! I'm sorry," you blurt out, slurping the rest of the dangling dribble back into your mouth, "I...I didn't mean to..." Grayson shivers, his laughter quickly coming to a hush as he curls up his toes and kicks his legs off from the couch. "That just slipped out." Laughing awkwardly at yourself, you look around for something you can use to wipe your spit from his belly. "Stay still, Gray, I'll clean you up. Kinda got carried away there... I'm glad Ethan wasn't here to get a picture of that shit."

Having ruined the fun with your loose lips, you wipe your face dry with the bottom of Grayson's shirt, then touch the material to his skin. Again he shivers, trembling as the cotton fabric runs against his abdomen, it seems that he just can't help himself. "Mmm, sorry," he whispers, his voice trembling as he rests his head back into the cushion behind him, "I... I guess my stomach is just feeling a bit sensitive right now. Oh... and my toes are really, really cold. I actually think you should keep doing what you're doing though, Babe... with all the kisses and stuff... it's really helping with my, um... pain."

You know where this is going — his hesitation is a clear sign that he's into it — it's too obvious to go unnoticed. It has been a while since the two of you have gotten hot and heavy, so why let a full stomach stop you now? You have to admit, you never expected to feel such an attraction to him in the state he's in, with his gut all round and tight, you kind of do... it's something you just can't help. After your much-deserved shower compliments, all the joking around, Grayson's bedroom eyes... you can't blame yourself for feeling a little bubbly inside. Grayson grabs your wrist, stopping your hand from wiping away the last bit of your drool, "Just leave it, its fine. Like I said, nobody's here, so... why don't we use this time to our advantage? We've got the whole house to ourselves..." His grip on your arms grows more firm, just enough to keep you restrained without causing any pain — it's always been his way of teasing you. Whether he's got a hold on your neck, your wrists, or your butt, his tight grip always gets you in the mood.

"Oh, Ok...," you reluctantly agree, "I guess I'll just... rub it in then." Slowly, you rub the rest of your spit into his skin with the palm of your hand — it's taut surface catching traction under your skin — and start to kiss his tummy again. "Yeah, just like that," Grayson says, encouraging of your gentle touch, "That's good." As if it has a mind of its own, your tongue slips out from your lips again, slowly cascading a stream of saliva down onto his flesh. "Woah," Grayson moans, "Th—That feels... amazing."

His hands find their way onto either side of his gut, rubbing themselves around in big circles against his supple skin, and enclosing your lips between them. Their motions force your mouth inward, closer to the center of his belly, until you're right above his navel. You can just barely smell the shallow hole, it's faint sweaty odor wafting up to your nose as you move it around between his hands — it doesn't smell as bad as you thought it would. Feeling trapped, with no way to get around them, you reluctantly dip your tongue into his navel, tasting the bitter pool of sweat that has collected inside of it.

Grayson's stomach tosses and turns inside, twisting under the wet sensation of your tongue. "Fuck," he moans, holding your head over his gut with his tight fist gripping the nape of your neck, "that feels... s—so... great. T—Tell me how it smells in there, I wanna know. H—How does my belly button smell?" His attempt at dirty talking you — if that's what it's meant to be — is a bit strange to you at first. Why would he want to know how his belly button smells? Why does it turn him on so much? Grayson's moans grow louder — into deep chesty growls — and almost instantly, you realize that none of your questions really matter; it's just what he wants to hear. His eyes roll so far back into his head that you're pretty sure he's reading his own thoughts, and his bottom lip is nearly purple from all his biting. His growls grow into booming whimpers — sexy words of deep passion — then shrink back into the soft moans they evolved from.

"Hmm," you ponder loudly, sliding your tongue out from the hole, "Like sweat... and tacos. It's really dirty, Gray. Do you want me to lick it clean?" You feel awkward as you slip your tongue back inside, swiveling it back and forth, but he loves the sensation too much for you to stop yourself any time soon... his pleasure eases away your discomfort with each passing second. "Yeah," he answers, his voice trembling, "Mmm... it smells bad? So dirty and stinky. I bet you like that. Clean it out for me, Baby." His big fist releases it's grip on your neck and slides down to your back, pulling up your shirt as you continue to salivate all over him and his gigantic food baby. Your shirt comes up over your shoulder, and before you know it, Grayson is on top of you on the floor, pushing his gut down against your face as his meal twists and turns inside him. His skin is hot and red — wet with your spit — and his stomach feels tight against your cheeks.

"Are you ready," he asks, looking down longingly into your eyes, "Mmm... are you?" You are… you think… although you don't know what for. He could do anything he wants with you trapped below him, but what are you going to say? No? Silent, you brush your lips against the curvature of his big bowling ball and nod. You hear the zipper on his pants undo itself, and then you feel yours yank down to your ankles. "Mmm, you're too big for your jeans now, huh," you tease him, watching as he looks for a place to put his throbbing cock, "That's so sexy, Big Guy."

You feel yourself getting hot with anticipation, and then it finally happens — Grayson thrusts himself deep inside of you. "Put your finger in my belly button," he moans, peering down over his stomach to — watching himself ram into you, "Do me while I do you." Completely paralyzed with pleasure from the waist down, you yank your hands free from their pinned position on the floor, and slip your finger back into his belly button. Almost instantly, your fingertip is dripping wet, completely enveloped in your slimy saliva.

Grayson's back thrusts harder and harder, until it gives out, leaving him motionless on top of you — and your finger crushed between your bodies. "Oh my god," he gasps, "I'm gonna! I'm gonna... Oh shit!" You watch in pure awe as he yanks himself out of you, spraying his thick load of spunk up onto his belly.

His body convulses on top of yours, completely emptied of its most precious fluid. You missed seeing his O-face, so much that it seemed almost foreign to you this time. His wide, gaping mouth, his eyes rolled to the very back of his skull, the thick veins popping out of his neck, they're such a nice sight for sore eyes. Amazed by the spectacle of his orgasm, you roll yourself out from under him and push him onto his back — taking a seat on his naked pelvis. You're in a lustful daze as you stare directly at the white mess on his gut. It's beautiful, looking almost as if he's spilled thick milk all over himself — even though that's not something he drinks — maybe almond milk.

"Oh yeah," Grayson groans, out of breath as he lays under you, "Come here and lick my belly button clean." Without hesitation, you hold his wrists down against his chest — taking the open opportunity to pin him down — and slide your stomach back and forth against his, covering your abdomen in his seed. "Looks like we made a mess," you tease him, lowering your head down to the underside of his gut," And it's a big one! Must've been super pent-up, huh?" The view from the other side of his stomach is beautiful. Only his chin and the tip of his nose can be seen from this side, shown over the dip where his belly button is.

Your tongue slides out of your mouth again, this time with you in control, and traces its way up what seems to be a newly-forming happy trail to his navel, then forces itself down into the hole again. Just as you anticipated, the thick warmth of his spunk feels amazing on your tongue, and acts as the perfect lubricant to fill the space between your tastebuds and his skin. "Oh, fuck," Grayson moans, his eyes big as he stares blankly at the ceiling, "Oh my god! That feels... Auugh!"

"Tasted good too," you laugh, cleaning up what's left of the mess, "Too bad it's all gone!" Grayson wriggles his hands free from yours, looking down at his red, irritated abdomen. Slowly, he dips his finger into his soaked belly button and brings it up to his nose. "Oh, yeah. That smells awful. So hot." Finishing off your task, you kiss your way down the inside of his thighs, all the way to his feet. The sour smell of sweat fills your nostrils once more as you kiss the damp spaces between his toes, enjoying the aroma. Having left your thick, white mark all over his body, you place your head back onto his stomach and rest.

There the two of you lay, one on top of the other on the floor, breathless and full. You can still smell the sweat between his toes, the tacos wafting their way out through his pores, and suddenly you can't help but to feel proud of yourself. Both your dinner and your long, sexy dessert were a huge success!

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Thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️!!!

#starry eyes #grayson dolan #grayson dolan belly/tummy #grayson dolan navel #smut fic #grayson dolan smut

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fortheloveoffanfic · 2 years

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Navigation

✨ 18+

✨ Most works explore adult themes, discretion is advised.

✨ My works are exclusive to this blog and ao3; any copying, reposting or translating is not permitted.

✨ I do not write RPF.

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Mr. Gallagher and Me, Chapter 21: Jim x Reader. Y/n and Jim have their interviews as part of the university’s investigation into their relationship, followed by a run-in with Emily. Then, when Y/n doubts their relationship, Jim tries to prove how committed he is. Warnings- a smidge of angst

Prettier When You're Mine, Chapter 7: Andy Barber x Reader. Weeks after her visit to Andy’s house, Y/n makes an unsettling discovery and Andy reveals an even more sinister truth Warning: mentions of forced sex, mentions of stalking, possessiveness, mentions of pregnancy

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fallinallincurls · 2 years

Text

I Know Something Now That I Didn’t Before

coming in at the last minute, but this fic is finally here!! thank you to @antoineroussel for hosting the summer fic exchange once again, it’s always so much fun to be a part of. this is for @hockeylvr59! the entire idea was amazing to bring to life and i hope you love it! the title comes from taylor swift’s “everything has changed” which also fits the vibe of this fic perfectly

warnings: brief mentions of childbirth and blood, side character death. if i missed anything else, please let me know!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 7.4k

~~~~~

Out of all the titles and accomplishments that can be attached to Cale Makar’s name, being a father is the one he is most proud of. But it’s days like today that he’s unfortunately reminded of how life doesn’t always go to plan no matter who you are.

His daughter is starting preschool today. Cale’s little baby girl has grown so much over the years, but this big moment in their lives is proof that time is moving too quickly. And on top of those emotions, she’s starting school without her mom here. A reminder that Cale wishes he could change with every single passing day.

He’s currently standing at the stove making Maisy’s favorite breakfast, chocolate chip and sprinkle pancakes, when all the memories rush back unwelcome on what’s meant to be a happy morning for the father and daughter.

Cale never expected this to be his life at 23. But after being asked to join the Avalanche in the middle of their 2019 playoff run, he left behind his college years and became a professional athlete in the blink of an eye. It just so happened the Avs were playing the Flames which meant Cale was heading home in an odd way. And somehow, in all the craziness of that time in his life, he reconnected with Beatrice.

Beatrice who he went to high school with and remained one of his best friends when hockey started taking over his life. Beatrice who was so happy to see him back in Calgary even if only for a short period of time. Beatrice who made the first move when the Avs got eliminated and made the two of them official.

Everything had been a whirlwind to Cale, but reconnecting with Bea was incredible. For the entirety of the offseason, their relationship was happy and full of love. It was all he could ever ask for. But as the next season approached and Cale received word that he would be returning to the team permanently, things began to shift.

The time for training, meetings, moving from one country to another permanently, and all the other requirements of playing in the NHL started to take a toll on them. Cale couldn’t stop the inevitable, so before he flew to Denver for training camp, he gently suggested that they break up and remain friends. Because after all this time, he didn’t want her to disappear from his life.

And life went on. The season started and Cale was off to a phenomenal start as a rookie which continued to stun anyone watching him play. Bea reached out frequently enough whether with a simple text or phone call. Life was good.

Then, Beatrice called that November.

The words she said all made perfect sense, but Cale couldn’t comprehend anything. Pregnant, it’s his, what are they going to do, unexpected. The world came to a screeching halt all at once. And from that moment on, his life was changed forever.

He was going to be a dad.

Despite the fact that he and Beatrice broke up, Cale insisted on being there for her during the entire pregnancy because that’s what good friends do when they’re expecting together. He wanted to help with anything he possibly could so he did. Doctor appointments, shopping for the necessities, taking care of Bea when he wasn’t on the road. It wasn’t easy to balance both his rookie season and the preparation of having a baby, but Cale found himself getting more and more excited with each passing day.

The day his little girl arrived in the world was full of more emotions than Cale thought possible. Bea’s labor was seemingly going well, not too long and not that painful, and he was there for every step of the way. Cale was in awe more than anything of Bea and the fact that their baby girl was finally here, but before either of them could soak in the moment, chaos broke out.

The next thing Cale remembers is the nurse telling him she has to push through the afterbirth. They were both terrified, but his heart dropped the second the machines started beeping and Bea began to lose consciousness. He was immediately rushed out of the room so the doctors could help, but when the nurse approached him again with a look of despair, all he heard were the words complications with delivery and severe blood loss. Bea unfortunately didn’t make it. She was gone. There was hardly any time to process the devastating news before the nurse asked if he would finally like to meet his baby. His little girl.

With tears in his eyes, Cale nodded and followed the nurse back to the nursery. The moment she was placed in Cale’s arms, he felt his heart burst and tears roll down his cheeks. Everything he will ever do will be for her, he swears right then and there.

“Do you have a name for her?” The nurse asked quietly, not following the question with a further explanation. It dawns on him then that this decision, and everything else going forward, will be completely up to him. He’s on his own.

“Maisy. Maisy Beatrice Makar.” Cale replied, trying to keep his emotions in check. The baby girl, Maisy, wrapped one of her tiny hands around Cale’s pointer finger as if in approval of her carefully selected name. Maisy was the one both Cale and Bea had picked out in advance, but there was no doubt about making his daughter’s middle name the one that belonged to her mom. It had to be.

From then on, it’s been Cale and Maisy against the world. Of course, they both miss Bea in different ways that almost no one understands, but Cale couldn’t be anymore grateful for the help he’s received over the last four years from friends, family and teammates. They say it takes a village and Cale is the first to second that statement.

Now, he’s just won the Stanley Cup, his lifelong dream, along with the Norris and Conn Smythe. Celebrating and making the most of riding out the high this huge victory provided has been nothing short of incredible. The happiness he’s felt since the Avs became champs is like nothing else in the entire world. And through the entire season, from start to finish, Maisy has been there. The win meant just as much to her as it did for him.

Except Cale thinks that her first day at preschool might be even more exciting considering how she hasn’t stopped talking about it practically all summer.

“Daddy! I lost my shoes!” Maisy’s voice breaks Cale out of his trance where he’s reliving the good and painful memories. No matter how badly he wishes that Beatrice was here to see Maisy on such an important day, she isn’t, and he’s going to make sure his little girl knows her mom would be insanely proud of her like always.

With a glance over his shoulder, he spots Maisy’s favorite pair of sparkly Converse by the door. “By the door, sweetie!” He calls back, plating the pancakes before turning around towards the kitchen island. His eyes find the flash of blonde hair passing through the room in mere seconds as Maisy runs to get her shoes.

Before he knows it, Maisy is crawling up onto a stool at the counter and giving Cale her biggest smile. Even after all this time, Cale’s overwhelmed with emotions looking at his daughter. She’s beautiful. Identical clear blue eyes like his which shine beneath her pink framed glasses, curly blonde hair that just reaches her shoulders now, a sweet smile that reminds him so much of Beatrice’s. He adores her and can’t believe how much she’s already grown.

“Chocolate chip and sprinkle pancakes! My favorite!” Maisy exclaims when she sees the full plate at her seat. “Will you help me put my shoes on and do my hair after we eat?” She asks adorably, attention never faltering from her father.

“Absolutely I can do that. Are you sure you want to wear your jersey to the first day of preschool though?” Cale smiles as he sits next to her and they start eating breakfast together. He couldn’t miss the signature burgundy and blue that adorned the top half of her body when she came down the stairs moments ago. Maisy cherishes her Stanley Cup playoffs Makar jersey over all her others now and it seems to be her outfit choice to start school.

“Mhm! I love my jersey and it’ll be like having you at school with me in a funny way.” Maisy replies with a definitive nod. Cale can’t argue with her and as long as she’s happy, he’s happy so he just smiles while love rushes through him.

Maisy pushes her breakfast plate away from her only a few minutes later, stating that she’s full and needs help with finishing getting ready. Cale kneels down to tie her shoes before getting to work on her hair. Of course, she picked out a matching bow to go with her jersey and Cale can’t help but chuckle as he tries to wrangle in her unruly curls.

It’s only when Maisy is distractedly humming to herself while her dad puts the bow in her hair that Cale spills the big surprise.

“Maisy?” He asks, earning a soft response from the little girl. “I know you’re really excited for your first day of preschool and so am I. And even though Mommy isn’t here today, she left me something a long time ago to give you. Is that okay?”

“From Mommy?” Maisy’s voice is so quiet that Cale’s heart almost breaks. It’s not like they don’t talk about Beatrice, it’s just hard for both of them for different reasons. Maisy never got the chance to know her. She doesn’t have any memories, only the stories that Cale has told her while he feels the direct pain of the loss for both him and their daughter. Cale nods, tying her bow in place before facing her. “Can we open it together before we go to school?”

“That sounds like a great plan. Stay right here, okay?”

When Cale returns only a few minutes later with a small box in hand, Maisy’s head tilts in curiosity, but she waits until her father speaks again.

“When you were in Mommy’s tummy, she decided to write you a letter for the first day of school for each year. Because today is the first day of preschool, we can open the first letter.” Cale explains softly, kissing the top of her head as he picks up a pink envelope in the front of the box and lets Maisy open it.

“Dear Maisy,” She starts reading with a smile until her brows furrow in confusion and she looks back up at Cale. “Read for me, please?”

“Dear Maisy, it’s your first day of preschool! I’m so proud of you. I hope you have your favorite outfit picked out and all the best snacks in your lunchbox. This is a really big moment! I can’t believe you’ve grown so much and I just know you’re the most resilient, funny and bright little girl in the entire world. Daddy and I are so lucky to have you. Go make some friends, have fun and I’m wishing you the best first day ever! Love, Mommy.” Cale reads Beatrice’s handwritten words from the small card.

He doesn’t notice the tears in his own eyes until he’s wiping away Maisy’s and pulling her in for a hug. A comfortable silence settles around them for a moment, but it isn’t long before Maisy’s voice fills the air once more.

“Don’t worry, Daddy. I know Mommy is with me right here,” She puts a little hand over her heart, “and that makes today even more special. I think I’m ready to go to school now.” Maisy tucks the paper in the envelope again before tugging on Cale’s hand. She puts the letter in the safest place within her backpack to have with her throughout the day and the two of them finish up their morning routine. The heavy emotions subside only to be replaced with happiness that Cale feels with each passing second.

It is Maisy’s first day of school after all.

~~~~~

That cannot be her.

The last time Cale saw Maia, they were sitting next to each other in their sophomore statistics class at UMass the day before he left for Colorado. He hasn’t seen her since. Through Instagram, he knows that she graduated summa cum laude last year and got her dream teaching job for the following fall. But other than that, she has been someone stuck in his past that he wishes he had more time with before his college career got cut short because of hockey.

Except at this very moment, she’s standing right in front of him and his daughter at her new preschool welcoming each of the children that will presumably be her students.

Ohmygod.

Gabe, ever observant, notices the longing and surprised look on his teammate’s face and elbows Cale just enough to grab his attention again. Maisy’s arms are wrapped around one of Cale’s legs as she takes in the scene around her. It’s easy to tell that she’s nervous, scared and shy all at once, her earlier excitement seemingly having disappeared for the moment. Linnea, on the other hand, is happily bouncing next to Gabe and Cale feels grateful for the millionth time that Maisy won’t be alone today because she has such a good friend in his captain’s daughter.

“Who is she?” Gabe asks, not dancing around the subject at all. Cale tries to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as he drops a hand to Maisy’s head knowing the simple touch will keep her calm until he can talk to her.

“Who?” Cale decides to play dumb, hoping to get Gabe off the topic but it doesn’t work. He gets a level stare instead. “Maia. We went to UMass together and I had the biggest crush on her. We shared a lot of classes and hung out a lot because of that, but I never acted on anything since I wasn’t sure if she felt the same way. I haven’t seen her since I left to join the team.” He admits, awaiting some kind of reaction to the shortened story he just recounted.

“Well, judging by the look on your face you wish you did something about it then. Universe works in funny ways, Cale. Give it some time. You know she’s here now and considering she’s your daughter’s preschool teacher, I’m sure there won’t be a shortage of opportunities to talk to her.”

“I don’t even know if she remembers me, Gabe.”

With one glance back towards the woman standing near the school’s entrance, Gabe catches her eyes flickering over to where the two hockey players are standing. It’s almost impossible to miss the split second change of emotions on display across her facial features when she looks at Cale.

“I highly doubt that.” Gabe responds, patting Cale on the shoulder and offering a genuine smile before kneeling down to talk to Linnea.

“Daddy?” Maisy speaks up softly, tugging at his hand and looking up at him with her big blue eyes. Cale’s heart just about melts at the sight.

“How are you feeling, Maise?” Cale asks, putting himself on the little girl’s level. She offers him a shy smile and then hugs her father tightly for a moment. He holds her close, letting her revel in the comfort of the embrace until she’s ready to say anything more.

“I’m scared. There’s a lot of kids and I only know Lala.” Maisy admits with a small waver in her voice giving away her emotions.

“There are a lot of kids here, but you’ll have Linnea to play with and I know you’ll make so many new friends. I saw a girl with an Avalanche keychain on her backpack over there and a boy who had the same coloring book you love at home.” “Really?” Maisy says with that familiar gleam of hope. Cale only nods in response, kissing her forehead which earns him a tiny giggle. A sound he’ll never get tired of hearing.

“Really. You’ll have so much fun today and I can’t wait to hear all about it.” That seems to ease some of Maisy’s anxiety about such a big change, but he knows another question is going to follow behind so he patiently waits.

“Will we have snacktime? You packed my Teddy Grahams right?” Before Cale can answer that, yes there will be snacktime and of course he packed her Teddy Grahams, a soft female voice cuts in surprising both of the Makars.

“Snacktime is right after coloring so you’ll be able to eat your Teddy Grahams. What kind is your favorite?”

“The honey ones!” Maisy perks right up, turning right back into the happy and adorable girl that Cale knows so well. She leans right into Cale who keeps her close, but everything seems to disappear the moment he looks up at who is currently talking to his daughter.

Maia.

“Me too! Those are the best.” Maisy giggles at that, filling the air with joy just from the simple sound. And if Cale wasn’t so focused on the woman crouching down in front of them, he would’ve chuckled along too. Instead his heart is racing and he can’t form one coherent thought because after all this time, she’s right here again. The one who got away.

Her wavy hair is a little longer and darker than it was in college and her eyes are still so bright. Cale can’t help but notice how her curves have filled out since the last time he saw her and the pretty clementine print dress she’s wearing highlights that, taking his breath away. He’s in awe of how beautiful she is like he always has been.

“I’m Ms. Webber, your preschool teacher. What’s your name?”

“Maisy!”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Maisy. I love your name.” Maia responds, smiling fondly at the little girl who is already melting her heart.

“Thank you. It was picked out special for me.” She says, voice quiet with shyness but Cale can tell she’s slowly warming up to the idea of school once again. “This is Daddy! He plays hockey here. Did you know that?” Maisy continues, squeezing Cale’s arm and that’s when Maia’s gaze falls to the little girl’s father.

It is him.

Cale Makar.

When Maia received her class list at the beginning of the summer, she picked out the last name within seconds. Makar is pretty much a household name in Denver now so it wasn’t easy to overlook, but more importantly, it still belonged to the man who has held her heart since the day they first met. She tried to not get her hopes up because how could he have a daughter entering preschool at this very moment in time? Yet, here he is with that exact little girl who’s name was on her roster and looks just like her father. Not to mention, she’s full of sunshine.

“I had no idea. That’s so cool! This must be his jersey then, huh?” Maia asks, keeping the conversation going with Maisy but her eyes drift to Cale and it feels as if her heart stops right then and there. He looks almost exactly as she remembers him, maybe a little more muscular and older, but other than that he looks like the Cale she knew in college. Glasses and all. She can’t believe it.

“Well, that’s his name and number, but this is my jersey.” Maisy exclaims with a laugh and the way Cale looks at his daughter is the purest form of love that Maia has ever seen. Before anything else could be said, the school bell rings and the kids begin departing from their parents. Maia politely excuses herself to join her colleagues for the day as Maisy collapses into Cale’s arms for one last hug.

“Have a great first day, Maise. You’ll have lots of fun. I love you so much.” Cale murmurs into her blonde hair, trying to hold back the surge of emotions that have arisen in the moment.

“I love you too. I’ll have lots of fun so I can tell you about it later. Bye, Daddy!” Maisy leans up to kiss his cheek and Cale can’t help but hold onto her for just a moment longer.

There’s an unfamiliar pressure evident in Maia’s chest as she watches the father and daughter hold each other in the tightest hug before Maisy falls into step with a girl she must be friends with and together they walk backwards, Maisy waving to Cale the whole way to the door.

It’s going to be an interesting school year.

~~~~~

“Alright, Maisy. Are you getting your usual pizza today or something different?” Cale asks, looking down at his daughter who is holding his hand and bouncing with excitement. The father daughter pizza dates on Friday nights have become a staple in the Makar household and even if Cale’s on the road, they make time for this exact tradition no matter what.

“Mmm, my usual!” Maisy pipes up in response with a bright smile.

“Okay, go get your favorite seat and I’ll order.” Maisy nods quickly and skips off to the table they always sit at whenever they come to Proto’s Pizza. This particular pizza place is not only Maisy’s favorite, but it was also Beatrice’s whenever she used to come see Cale in Denver. It’s one way that her mom’s memory is kept alive through a simple act even if the cute restaurant has a new meaning to both of them now too.

Cale watches to make sure Maisy settles at the table with her coloring book before stepping up to the counter to order. Two Hawaiian slices for him and two plain for Maisy. The exchange with the cashier is almost exactly the same since he’s a regular here now, but as he moves towards the pick up area, Cale’s eyes spot the familiar brunette waves of not only his daughter’s preschool teacher but the girl he still carries an immense amount of love for.

Maia.

He hasn’t really seen her since Maisy’s first day of school almost two months ago. Of course she’s there at drop off and pick up, but it’s nothing more than about five minutes and Cale doesn’t know how to start a conversation that isn’t awkward because of all the time they’ve missed. But he wants her back in his life and so far, just Maisy’s teacher isn’t enough.

She’s reading something on her phone when Cale sidles up next to her. With one glance back to make sure Maisy is okay, which she is, he takes a moment to admire how pretty Maia looks in jeans that hug her curves and how she looks more relaxed than she is at school everyday.

And then he takes that leap of faith.

“Are you still ordering your half veggie half meat lovers pizza?” The question leaves Cale’s lips, a teasing tone evident in every word he says. Maia’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice, a look of utter disbelief on display across her face.

“Still a better choice than your beloved Hawaiian, Makar.” Maia fires back with that playfulness she always had around him. In that split second, their eyes lock, every memory from college comes rushing back and she suddenly finds herself nervous more than anything. Maia’s heart is racing with anticipation and she knows things have changed since the two of them were themselves, but she can’t stop the sense of familiarity that surrounds her as the conversation unfolds. They’ve had the same argument a million times so it’s easy to slip back into even if their lives are not the same. “Sorry, I mean, it’s still a great choice, but-”

“Not your favorite, I know.” Cale finishes, offering a kind smile to help ease the obvious tension she’s feeling. “It wasn’t then and I can’t imagine that’s changed over the years.” He teases, feeling a tug on his heart when thinking about what they shared at UMass.

“I’m more surprised you remember my go-to order honestly.”

“How could I forget? Every study date, late night snack and pizza craving you ever had was always half veggie half meat lovers. I’ll remember that order forever.” Cale admits with a chuckle, warming Maia’s heart in mere seconds. It almost feels as if no time has passed at all and they’re still those two kids just trying to get their degrees while figuring out life along the way.

Except, they aren’t and time has passed. A reminder that strikes Maia as the comfortable silence settles between them.

“Where’s your little one?”

“Oh,” Cale starts, momentarily forgetting that they’re currently in Proto's, not the dining hall on campus. “Maisy’s at our usual table coloring until our order is ready.” Maia looks towards where he tilts his head, spotting the curly blonde hair that belongs to one of her favorite students.

“She’s just like you. You know that?” Maia asks, surprising even herself at letting the observation slip past her lips. But it’s the truth. Everyday at preschool, she sees more and more of her father in Maisy and the emotions she thought were long gone have risen to the surface over the last two months.

“That’s what people tell me.” Cale replies, cheeks flushing pink as he scratches the back of his neck. He looks absolutely adorable and Maia can’t help but grin at the sight of him.

“She’s really lucky to have you. And we have plenty to catch up on already, but I would love to hear the story about how she got here.” Maia says softly, gaze flickering back to Maisy who is lost in her own world while coloring away.

Before Cale can do anything else but nod in response, both of their orders are ready. Maia steps forward to grab her pizza box, sparks flying when she brushes past Cale. Almost repeating her actions, he finally finds his voice again.

“Keep that catching up date in mind. There’s more to cover than you think.”

“Okay, Makar. We’ll do that soon. Until then, I’ll see you at school with Maisy. Enjoy your Hawaiian pizza, weirdo.”

“Make sure you eat the veggie slices first, Webber.” And just like that, with a small wave and a smile that could rival the sun, Maia heads toward the door. Cale snaps out of his little trance in seconds, bringing the pizza back to the table where his too curious daughter is waiting with lots of questions.

“You and Ms. Webber are friends?” Maisy says immediately as Cale sits down across from her and she forgets about the coloring book she was just working on. Her voice is full of what sounds like hope mixed with peaked interest.

“She’s actually an old friend of mine from college. We used to do almost everything together before I left to play hockey here.” Cale explains with a grin, his heart swelling like it always does at the thought or mention of Maia. The girl he loved then and never thought he’d have another chance with. “And then we went to your first day of preschool and I found out she’s your teacher!”

“Oh!” The little girl exclaims as she digs into her pizza. Cale chuckles at her reaction, but it isn’t long before Maisy keeps up her questioning. “Were you best friends? What did you do together?”

The innocent words hang in the hang for a moment. Despite their time being cut short due to Cale’s call up to the NHL, there are countless memories to recall of everything he did with Maia. So without any hesitation, Cale tells his daughter almost everything. About how they met, the way they became instant friends, how when they hung out time felt as if it didn’t exist, the late nights after his games, studying together in the back of the library. There’s so much history and although none of the almost’s slip through his story, the almost kiss, the almost confession of feelings, the almost being something more, Cale longs to change that now.

“I’m going to tell Ms. Webber tomorrow that she knows a famous hockey player. And my daddy!” Maisy exclaims after listening intently. Her blue eyes are alight with joy, a sight that makes her father smile like nothing else.

“You do that, Maise.” As the two go back to chatting about much simpler things, Cale’s mind wanders through every possibility. He would be stupid to not give them another shot, but he has no idea if those lingering feelings still exist for Maia or if they even existed in the first place.

That, Cale decides, is step one.

And he knows just the person to ask for advice on how to win a woman’s heart.

~~~~~

Gabe, unfortunately, beats him to the punch.

It’s a chilly November morning and as Linnea and Maisy reach for each other’s hands to walk into the preschool building together after saying goodbye to their fathers, Gabe voices the question that makes Cale freeze.

“So when are you gonna make a move, Caler?” Gabe teases, lightly elbowing his teammate and Cale’s cheeks become rosier by the second.

“I-uh, was actually going to ask you about that.”

“Me? Not EJ or even Devon? It’s an honor.”

“Shut up. EJ would make the whole thing a spectacle and Devon would probably be shocked that I even know how to talk to girls. You’re my best bet. And it’s not a big deal.” Cale replies, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and tries to ignore how embarrassing this is. He’s 23 years old and is asking for advice on how to get the girl.

He’s won the Stanley Cup and is one of the most distinguished hockey players in the league this early in his career. But talking to one person who’s held his heart for years? That’s impossible.

“Okay, well what are you thinking?” Gabe prompts, eyes remaining on the girls as they say hi to their teacher before disappearing into the building.

“I don’t even know if she was into me back in college, Gabe. Like I can’t make a move thinking she feels the same way when it’s been years since we last saw each other and I wasn’t sure of her feelings then.”

“You have to figure out where you stand then.” Cale’s brows furrow in confusion, but his captain continues speaking. “By the way things seem between the two of you, she definitely feels the same way. But I think she’s unsure more than ever. You do have a kid in her preschool class and she might think someone else is in your life.”

“There isn’t.” “Maia doesn’t know that. Does she?” Cale shook his head, the realization dawning on him right then. Since Maisy’s first day of school, there’s been that distance between them. The flirting and comfortableness has returned in their brief exchanges, but not like it used to be. And maybe it’s because Maia thinks Cale’s committed to Maisy’s mom since she doesn’t know the whole story.

“I have to fill her in.”

“Exactly. And I’m sure once everything is clear, you’ll both be able to admit how you feel to each other. Finally.” Gabe says with a reassuring nod, a smile creeping back onto his face. “You’re growing up so fast. Cale Makar is going to get the girl!”

“Shush! Don’t jinx anything. Nothing’s guaranteed so don’t get your hopes up. I just have to find a moment where I can tell her everything.” Cale settes, brain already racing to find a solution to that problem.

The answer comes not even days later when Maisy hands him a paper about parent teacher conferences. The meeting is used to discuss the progress of each child in class with their parents or guardians. Cale selects a time and date for the following week before making sure to tuck the paper into Maisy’s backpack so she can hand it in the next day.

And even as Maisy rambles on excitedly that night about how she met a friend who loves horses just like Uncle EJ, Cale is stuck on the fact that he’s going to have a designated time alone with just Maia. This is what he needs to finally move their relationship out of the friendzone after all this time.

But this is Maisy’s teacher he’s talking about. Maia isn’t just someone he knows and loves anymore. She’s important to his daughter too now for other reasons. He can’t overlook or forget that. And that means if this doesn’t go as planned, the hurt and awkwardness will be felt by more than just the two of them.

By time the day of the meeting rolls around, Cale is trying to desperately focus on how this is supposed to be about Maisy. The little girl who already owns his heart. It’s constant reminders of how although this is the perfect opportunity, he won’t get distracted by what’s actually at hand: his daughter’s wellbeing.

After dropping Maisy off to spend the afternoon with Nate, who was more than happy to spend time with the much cuter Makar as he says, Cale drove over to the school. The trip seems quicker than usual because before he knows it, Maia is welcoming him into the little classroom that’s colorfully decorated.

“Hi Cale.” Maia greets, her soft smile lighting up her face and Cale feels his heart swell with adoration. “Thank you so much for coming in today.”

“Hi,” Cale murmurs with a nod of acknowledgement, suddenly becoming the shy person he usually is when meeting others for the first time. “Your classroom is really cute. Decorate it yourself?”

“I did! It’s my second year teaching so I figured out what worked best last year and made this little space my dream classroom.” Cale’s gaze moves around the room, taking in every little detail about where his little girl spends part of her days now. He sees Maia’s desk in one corner, neatly organized, hand paintings from the class taped up on one wall, different signs hanging around with numbers, colors and letters on them and the small library of books nestled in the reading corner. A slow smile blossoms across his lips, making butterflies erupt in Maia’s stomach.

“I love it.” Cale says simply. And he does. The whole classroom is exactly as he imagined it would’ve looked when she talked about in college.

“Thank you.” Maia replies, tucking a piece of hair behind her hair. “Let’s sit and get started.” Cale follows her to a little table on the other side of the room and takes a seat in a tiny chair made for preschoolers. He hardly fits in it, knees bending at an awkward angle, and Maia can’t help but giggle at him. Despite everything they’ve missed over the last few years, he’s still the boy she’s in love with.

“So first off, everything I have to say about Maisy today is good. She’s a wonderful student and an even more amazing little girl to her classmates in every situation. It’s clear you’ve done an excellent job raising her.” Maia begins, her warm smile and kind words melting Cale’s heart in an instant. He still isn’t used to accepting compliments about how good of a father he is even if it’s true. He just wants to be enough for Maisy. As long as she’s happy, he did his job right.

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh, of course! There’s plenty more praise for Maisy coming throughout this meeting.” She laughs, the beautiful sound bringing a sense of happiness to Cale that he hasn’t experienced in quite some time. And he can tell Maia feels it too. “Maisy is also ahead of her classmates in several areas of her education. She’s got her ABC’s down and can write her name, her basic math skills are off the charts and she has a pretty good grasp on recognizing words which is great for how young she is.”

“Oh, really? That’s good to hear. I was worried we hadn’t done enough at home to prepare her.” Cale admits with relief, fumbling with his fingers under the table as a small distraction.

“Absolutely no worries there. Maisy is right on track for kindergarten and doing so well with things like reading and writing already at her age. We love seeing her here everyday. You and your partner should be so proud. You’ve raised a beautiful and incredible daughter.”

This is his chance. Tell her the truth.

“I- uh, it’s actually just me and Maisy. But I appreciate that. It means a lot.”

“Oh, I apologize-”

“You can stop me if this is an inappropriate time to tell you this, but-”

Both of them stop speaking, not wanting to talk over the other. Blush spreads across Cale’s cheeks as Maia’s beautiful eyes drop down in that way which quietly shows she’s nervous.

“Go ahead.” She almost whispers. “I know we’re here to talk about Maisy and we pretty much covered everything I had planned, but there seems to be a lot of other things we both have to say.”

With one deep breath and a racing heart, Cale jumps into his well thought out explanation. He tells Maia about everything that’s happened since he left UMass. Meeting Bea, the tragedy of losing her but gaining his daughter at the same time, taking care of Maisy since then while still playing for the Avs. Every word comes out in a rush, but she listens to every single bit and her gaze begins to fill with hope.

“I just wanted to make it clear that there isn’t anyone else in my life. You’ve been in the dark this whole time and that didn’t feel right.” Cale concludes, feeling the weight of his confession in the air. But the reaction he gets erases every worry present in his mind.

“Cale,” Maia chuckles, her expression soft with joy. “I was honestly so shocked to see you on the first day of school even if Maisy’s name on my classlist gave it away a little bit. But I can’t help and think that us being right here, together, means something more. We never gave ourselves a real chance back in college, but now might be the time. My feelings haven’t changed,”

“Mine either.” Cale interrupts politely, voice quiet but full of emotions.

“So do you want to give this thing another go? For real this time?” The question falls off of Maia’s pink lips, but he can see she’s still unsure if this is real. He’s wondering the same thing. They’ve waited so long for each other and now here’s the opportunity they’ve been waiting for.

“For real this time.”

~~~~~

“Family, friends and community members, I welcome you to this year’s preschool graduation.” Principal Andrews announces with a bright smile while standing at the podium that’s in front of the small crowd. “These children are on their way to kindergarten in the fall and this ceremony is to recognize the achievement they have all reached during their time in preschool.”

“Crazy you’re going to have a kindergartener soon, huh?” Maia teases, bumping her knee against Cale’s. Her fingers are intertwined with his, their hands resting in his lap.

“Don’t remind me.” He rolls his blue eyes and laughs in response.

It’s been six months since the two of them admitted their feelings to each other and started dating. Despite the fact that the Avs didn’t win the Cup this season, much to Cale and his teammates’ dismay, their relationship has only grown stronger and more incredible. Maisy couldn’t have been more thrilled even if she tried when they told her, the joy of her father finally having someone and that someone being the teacher she adores was the best news. Maia fits right into their lives like she’s always belonged there, something that makes Cale’s heart all warm and fuzzy just thinking about it.

Now, it’s graduation day for the preschoolers and Cale couldn’t be happier sitting with the girl he’s always loved waiting for his daughter’s name to be announced. He presses a quick kiss to Maia’s temple before they both turn their attention back to the ceremony.

“These fifteen young, bright children have grown in so many ways over the course of this past school year. And now, many would say, they’re ready for the big leagues also known as kindergarten.” The crowd laughs along to the joke, hundreds of emotions being felt at the same time. “The teachers and myself have all cherished the time we had together with these little ones so this is just as special for us as it is for you. Without a further ado, we’ll now be presenting the students with their preschool diploma.”

All the little kids stood up in front of their chairs, the biggest smiles plastered onto each of their faces. Cale spots Maisy easily. Her curly blonde hair is pinned back on the sides and her pink glasses aren’t hard to find in a small group. She picked out her favorite dress, a sparkly blue one, just for today’s event. Watching her shuffle forward on the stage, beautiful and happy, makes Cale think about how much she’s grown up. Time has passed too quickly for his liking and seeing his little girl up there now, moving onto another monumental time in her life, strikes his heart like never before.

The sadness doesn’t stick around for long though as Maisy steps up and Principal Andrews says her name out loud.

“Maisy Beatrice Makar.”

Tears spring into Cale’s eyes while he and Maia stand to clap and cheer. Maisy walks with joy in her step across the stage, accepting a tiny diploma and waving out to Cale right afterwards. With a watery smile and his usual rosy cheeks, he waves back to her. And when Maia leans into his side as silent support, the whole moment couldn’t be any more perfect than it is.

“She did it.” Cale whispers in awe and Maia giggles softly next to him.

“She did. But it’s only preschool. You have at least three more graduations to get through.”

It’s then that the entire class stands in front of the crowd with their diplomas and the principal declares them all preschool graduates. Everyone erupts in cheers, pictures being taken from all angles and Cale is pretty sure the grin on his face will be stuck there for days.

“Before we conclude our ceremony, it’s part of our school’s tradition to invite parents or guardians on stage for pictures and to represent who will be offering support to the students as they continue on with their education. So, those special individuals, please make your way to the front.”

“Ready?” The question is a mumble, but Maia hears it. She nods, grabbing Cale’s hand again. Both of their hearts are beating so fast that it’s a surprise no one around hears. Together, they walk towards the stage to join Maisy who is clueless to the moment that’s about to unfold.

“Daddy!” Maisy calls when she sees Cale come up the stairs. Her excitement is incredibly infectious, something that Maia adores about her too. “And Maia? You both came up?” She asks, obvious confusion crossing over her facial features.

“Of course. Maia is part of our family, isn’t she? We always say so.”

“She is! Principal Andrews said parents so I only thought you would come up, Daddy, but it’s way better with Maia here too. We’re a family.” Maisy says gently, warmth in each word as she processes what this means.

“We’re a family, Maise.” Maia repeats back before kissing the top of the little girl’s head and earning a giggle. Cale watches on as pure love makes his heart swell. This is all he’s wanted for so long. The girl of his dreams and his daughter. Life couldn’t be any better.

And later, when they’re settled at their usual table at Proto’s for Maisy’s celebratory dinner and Maia hands over her gift which of course is a copy of “Maisy Goes To School”, her personal favorite of all the Maisy Mouse books and fitting for the occasion, Cale is hit with a realization.

No matter what happens in his life going forward, he knows something now that he didn’t before. As long as he has these two, Maia and Maisy, everything will always be okay. And that is all he will ever need.

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boldlyvoid · 1 year

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No Longer Alone Together

Part One | Masterlist

Sunday, November 27th, 2022: The Recap

She’s standing in the bathroom, it’s a cold November morning, evident by how frigid the tiles are on her bare feet. She’s up because the kids are in her bed now, Spencer isn’t home, the world is still quiet but her mind was not. She has so much to do, she doesn’t feel good at all and she thinks she knows exactly why… its just the worst time ever to go through the first trimester again.

Last December it was hectic as all hell with 3 kids. Atlas turned 7 just 5 days before Christmas, his birthday always took priority over the month, but this year she was nervous she wouldn’t be able to give him all the attention he deserves… Not when she’s currently gripping the kitchen sink like her life depends on it, nauseous as ever, waiting for this pregnancy test to tell her what she already knows.

They weren’t actively trying… though, when were they ever? They’ve never used protection in their time together, resulting in Atlas in 2014, Noelle in February 2016 and little Luna in September 2019. There was a big gap between having Luna and taking this pregnancy test… not that they weren’t having sex in that time, they were just too busy dealing with COVID and zoom school and young immune systems every single day for almost 3 years.

Life was stressful enough as it was with 3 kids under 10, they didn’t need a newborn on top of it all while the world was shut down… at least Y/N didn’t want that right now.

On the other hand, Spencer was sharing his seed with anyone who asked for it.

She liked to phrase it that way as if it wasn’t just her best friend and her wife who wanted Spencer’s sperm to have a genius family of their own. It always made her laugh to see people's reactions to finding out Spencer now had 2 kids with another woman and that Y/N babysat said baby from time to time.

At the height of the pandemic, Emily and Laura were locked away in their DC mansion wishing they had a baby or two to share their time with… Laura always knew they wanted to be pregnant one day, she was fully ready to book an appointment with a clinic and look through books of donors when the world shut down.

Emily, ever the planner, said: “if you want a smart and cute kid, we should ask Spencer to be our donor and we’ll do it right here at home, just me and you and the turkey baster.”

Only the last part was a joke… until the device they bought to help do the inseminating looked a lot like a turkey baster.

Emily and Spencer always joked about being siblings separated at birth, she cared for him like a big sister and he’d kill for her if he had to. He almost did during the Scratch era of their hell job… So when Emily asked Spencer if he’d ever considered donating his sperm to help her make a family, he didn’t have to think too hard about it.

Asking Y/N if she was okay with it was the hard part for him, for some reason he really thought she’d have a problem with it… but it was actually quite fun helping him provide a sample in a cup. With Emily and Laura doing it on their own without doctors' help, not wanting to go to a doctor's office during the pandemic, it took a few tries, and then they had Peter Joseph, better known around their house as little PJ, in February 2021.

Now Laura is pregnant again, at 35 weeks currently and on baby watch for all of Christmas, her due date is 1st of January, 2023 but you can’t really expect a second baby to come on time… the BAU family was all placing bets on just when this new Prentiss baby was going to join their ranks, Y/N thinks the baby might even get to share a birthday with Atlas.

Derek also had a son right after they had Noelle. Hank Spencer Morgan was adorable, it must come with the name. JJ and Will had Michael not too long after, rounding their total to 3 kids which made them try for Luna to even it up again.

Before Spence left the FBI for good, they had a few new members join too, one of which was a lovely man named Matt who had a wife and 4 kids, they had their 5th right before Spencer quit— literally about a month before the accident that decided it all for them.

Much like JJ and Will, they had agreed early on that if things at work got to be too much, if what happened with Hotch ever started to happen to them, then Spencer would quit. They never expected it to actually happen, then Spencer was caught in an explosion, he went down hard and came home feeling fine. But he wasn’t fine.

Finding Spencer unconscious on the floor was the scariest thing she’s ever been through and poor Atlas saw it too.

They called 911, and Spencer was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance while she had to stay behind with the kids and wait for someone to come and watch them before she could follow him. It took 20 minutes for Will to show up, 20 minutes that felt like hell on earth, and then she was at his bedside for 2 days.

With Diana and Liam there too, they held Spencer's hands after surgery and waited way too long to see if he’d ever wake up again. It was a slow brain bleed, he was lucky his wife was coming home to find him, otherwise who knows how long he would’ve been on the floor, waiting for help, unable to ask for it himself.

He didn’t go back to work after that, he recovered at home with his babies and decided that he was going to stay there with them for good. He loved being a stay-at-home dad, it allowed Y/N to take up more hours at the museum again and he got to do crafts and take adventures and watch them grow up. It was fun until the kids both started school, Luna was still really little and day trips to the science centre and big crafts weren’t really her speed. He was bored most of the days when the house was empty and quiet during nap times…

So he wrote a book.

Almost like an autobiography, he took the things that happened to him in his first few years of being an agent and turned it into a Sherlock Holmes-style novel. Retelling the adventures of Dr. Sebastian Reeves and his colleagues at the FBI, getting caught in the middle of a serial killer's sick games… Fishing For A King was published on October 14th, 2021 and the sequel, Where Dead Men Rise was just released, taking Spencer away on his first-ever book tour around the country.

Which is why he’s not home currently. He’s not beside her for the first time ever as she takes a pregnancy test… Instead, he’s doing book signings, TED talks and being interviewed by every news outlet in North America. And tomorrow he’s on Jimmy fucking Fallon. What?? It was insane how much their little life has changed since 2013.

You see, normally when they planned for a baby they were testing all the time, they always caught it early… this time they didn’t plan at all, she wasn’t testing because she didn’t expect it at all but then the nightmares started up again. Her boobs hurt, she could smell everything from a mile away and she wanted to cry all day long over everything and nothing at all… she knew exactly when she got pregnant too, and even joked about it right after he pulled out for a matter of fact…

They had some of the best sex of their life at the start of Spencer's press tour thanks to Aunty Penny who watched the kids so she could go to New York with him. It was the first time in 7 years that they’d been completely alone for more than a few hours and they spent all of their free time in bed. Of course, she got pregnant, and they were so fucking happy, it was just like in the beginning.

The test is positive.

The brightest positive she’s ever seen, too, seeing as it’s been over a month since she saw Spencer last, she was a lot more pregnant now than she was with any of the other kids, when she saw their first positive tests it was after 1-2 weeks… right now she’s about 8 or 9 weeks pregnant.

She’s going to have 4 kids.

They’re going to be a family of 6.

They were catching up to the Simmons, slowly but surely… hopefully, this isn’t twins cause then they’d match up perfectly.

She puts the test in the cabinet behind the mirror, knowing the kids can’t get into it so they’d never see it. They knew what it was, at least the older two did. Being 6 and almost 8, they remembered when she was pregnant with Luna in 2019. They had their dad’s memory after all.

The kids are up and in her bed, the girls cuddled into each side of their brother as he holds their iPad in the middle, his legs crossed with his cute little toes moving to the music on his show. She found a cartoon Santa Clause series from the early 2000s and put it on for them, they have watched almost the whole first season in the last few days. It’s so cute seeing them so peaceful and happy together, getting excited for their favourite time of year.

They’ve been sleeping in bed with her a lot without daddy being home. They wanted to call him the moment they woke up, but being in LA now meant they couldn’t. They didn’t understand at first, so she had to get out the globe from Spencer’s office and taught them about timezones and how the earth moves around the sun while rotating on an axis, making a 24-hour day.

Holding her phone flashlight up, she pretended it was the sun in their very dark room (it was 6am.) they understood from then on that when daddy was on the other side of America, he was 3 hours behind them and probably still asleep, so they had to wait for him to wake up and call them.

“You guys hungry?” She asks as she walks back over to the bed.

They all nod and scramble to pause their video so they can jump out of bed and race her down the stairs. They each get their choice between Eggos and scrambled eggs or cereal and fruit, she ends up making them all scrambles and waffles with some cut-up grapes and orange juice just to round it into a full meal.

Thanks to an episode of the Waltons one night, the kids have started saying a sort of grace before every meal.

“Dear father, we miss you, we hope you’re having a good day in Los Angeles and that mommy lets us watch your interview show tomorrow,” Atlas leads.

“And bring us back something cool,” Noelle teases with a smirk.

“Can he hear us when we do this?” Luna whispers across the table to her big brother who just shrugs, having no clue what they’re doing, they just want to wish their dad a good day while he’s gone.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell them that they say dear father as a way to talk to god, to bless their family and their food and insure that good things come to them… they weren’t a religious household in the slightest, but if the kids wanted to be spiritual in their own way and send a blessing out for their dad, who was she to stop them?

They have little conversations with each other that just amaze her, she somehow created 3 amazing little geniuses with the biggest hearts to match. Much like her, Atlas was into dinosaurs for a while, he was often asking to come to work with her on weekends and snow days off from school, he would give anything to dig something up and learn about it all day. He collects rocks, he knows everything about space and the moon (which is just a big rock) and he plans to work at the Smithsonian one day too… just on the Air and Space side.

And he probably will, seeing as he has his dad's genius brain after all. He’ll probably be able to get a Ph.D. or two by the time he’s 25.

Noelle is more into learning how things work and move, she loves the cars movie franchise and thus all things with wheels. She’s been spending a lot of time with Henry and Michael, playing Tony Hawk games on the play station which caused them to build a skate ramp in the backyard while Will wasn’t looking and using her as the test dummy.

She broke her arm in 2 places and the cast comes off next week, with just enough time for Spencer to come home and sign it before they cut it off.

Luna, on the other hand, she wouldn’t be caught dead near a bike or anything that can get her dirty. She’s always been very meticulous, she learned fine motor skills long before she wanted to walk, which wasn’t helpful when babies also love putting things in their mouths. Spencer’s knowledge of CPR came in handy a few times, unfortunately. Now she’s 4 and her attention to detail is mainly spent on legos which she has learned don’t go in her nose, mouth, ears or anything thing that’s not lego branded…

She has the LEGO art pieces that match the art at mom's work, they’re her favourite. She’s also started to draw a lot, she was probably going to be their artist.

The 3 of them are so incredibly different yet so wondrously alike. They absorb knowledge like a sponge, they respect each other's talk time, and they butt heads often, but they never hate each other. Fights never last long. They end with hugs and apologies and understanding that they’re all learning how to be good people and mistakes are bound to happen.

That was always their fear when they became parents; that their kids wouldn’t get along. You see, not having siblings meant that Y/N and Spencer didn’t know what it was like. From what they knew about JJ, she took her sister for granted till it was too late and wished every day that she still had her around. Then there’s Hotch, he loved his brother but they were so different and had such an age difference that now they never talk.

They didn’t want that for their own kids. So seeing them so happy together, they were best friends and co-conspirators, 3 unstoppable forces that could band together within the blink of an eye… How was she going to add a 4th to their already perfect group without it disrupting everything?

“Are you guys excited for Aunt Laura to have her baby soon?” She cuts into the lull in their conversations, thinking that was a good segue. She wanted to know their thoughts on having another baby in the family without asking them outright.

“I’m excited,” Luna answers with a sweet smile, “I want it to be a girl cousin.”

“Me too,” Noelle agrees. “Mama, do they know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

“I’m not sure,” she genuinely didn’t know. “I think they’re keeping it a surprise.”

“Like a present,” Luna says, often vocalizing every thought she had, as always.

“Yeah… speaking of, on December first we’ll really start to celebrate, but what if we used this time while daddy is away to go get his Christmas presents?”

“So we don’t have to worry about him seeing it?” Atlas completely understood and his smile told her he was on board.

She nods, “yeah, we can go out today if you guys want?”

They all chant a very enthusiastic yes, bouncing in their seats with excitement.

They celebrate Christmas and a little bit of Hanukkah with Emily and Laura most years, the All-idays party was also coming up, which meant they all had to get another present for that… before they get dressed and ready to head out, she keeps them at the kitchen table with a piece of lined paper and asks them what kind of gifts they want to get for their family members.

“Because Christmas is about a lot more than just a man in a red suit giving you guys things, it’s about showing everyone in your life how much you love them, as well,” mom explains, like every Christmas, but this year they seem to understand it a lot better.

For white elephant they each had to bring in a gift, something that could be picked and stolen and loved by the person who eventually ends up with it. So they had to brainstorm some really good gift ideas that everyone else in their family group would like.

Each year the list of guests gets longer, this year there are 10 cousins, possibly 11 depending on when Laura goes into labour, and that’s not even including Y/N’s 3. Soon to be 4.

Thats 15 BAU kids… 16 if you count Jack, but they’re not coming this year, perfectly happy back in Seattle with Hailey’s extended family.

They needed to also consider all their aunts, uncles, and grandparents… it was so many people. Thank god uncle Dave had a big house.

They get all bundled up for their trip to the mall and go over their rules of being out in public on the drive over. They have to always be touching the kart or holding each other's hands, they can’t walk away from Mommy even if they’re excited about something, they have to bring her to the excitement so she doesn’t lose them. And they know scary people do exist and not everyone out there is kind for good reasons. They’re hyper-vigilant, they stick together and they’re always rewarded with a sweet treat at the end of the day because of it.

Spencer calls when they’re in the middle of the game store, shopping for the older kids, like Henry, Jake or David, getting them a new game for the switch, which everyone has. She has to decline the call cause the store is too loud and hectic, sending him a quick text saying they’re out right now and she’ll call back soon… but with so many things in her hands and 3 kids to watch over all alone.

She forgets until they’re home later that night, after getting dinner at Mcdonald's in front of the TV, they’re watching Harry Potter for the first time when Daddy calls again.

Atlas sees her phone light up with Spencer’s face behind the FaceTime caller ID, she’s in the kitchen cleaning ketchup off Noelle's cast, so he picks up for his mom.

“Hi, daddy,” he brightens right up, Luna comes running to his side, shouting his name at him with excitement.

“Hello munchkins, where have you been? Mama said she’d call me earlier and then she never did?”

“We went out and then got McDonald's,” he turns the FaceTime around and shows the carpet picnic happening in front of the TV. “Mom is helping Noa get some ketchup off her cast, it fell out of her burger and landed right on it.”

“We should sue McDonald's, then I guess,” he teases making them laugh. “Did you have fun at the mall? Did you get any gifts for Grandma and Grandpa?”

“And for you but we can’t tell you what it is,” Atlas explains, “we promised mommy.”

“Yeah, pinky promised,” Luna gives even more detail. “And you know about those…”

“I’m so excited to open it, do you know how many days there are till Christmas left?” Spencer asks, they’ve been counting down since after Thanksgiving.

They take the phone running into the kitchen, where the countdown exists on the fridge, showing him that there were 27 days left.

“What are you— oh gosh, Spence, I’m sorry, I never called you back!” Y/N calls out when she realizes what the kids are doing with her phone.

She’s drying off her hands before she lifts Noelle off the counter and back to the ground, Atlas hands her the phone and Spencer explains how it’s fine, he just wanted to check-in. They catch up in the kitchen for a few moments alone, only to go back out to the living room and finish dinner. The movie is paused, and they set him up on her laptop instead of the phone, the kids all sharing memories from the day with their dad… they missed him so much, they never wanted to hang up but it was bedtime.

“I miss you, daddy,” Luna sighed, resting her head on her brother's shoulder so they could all fit in the frame.

“I miss you, too, looney tunes,” he tries not to get too choked up. “Just a couple more days and then I’m coming home and I’m snuggling you all for hours, you’re going to be sick of me with how much love I’m going to give you.”

She laughs because she knows it’s true, she’s heard him cry on the phone too many times about having, what he could only equate to mom guilt, about not being home with them again when they’re so used to it. He missed them. He missed watching them grow. He felt horrible that he wasn’t there for Noelle in the hospital when she got her cast, he missed Halloween, Thanksgiving and Henry's birthday… he felt horrible without them.

But the kids have school tomorrow, so they can’t stay up late to talk to their daddy. He lets them go just in time to have a bath and head to bed, only to call back 2 hours later that for his alone time with his wife. She answers with her headphones in, all 3 kids in her bed on Spencers side, missing him too much to sleep alone, sound asleep all cuddled into each other already.

They whisper their goodnights, he reminds her just how much he loves her and sends her a kiss all the way from the other side of America. “Did you get it?” He whispers, even though he didn’t have to.

She nods, touching her cheek with a smile. “I love you, Spence… Thursday can’t come fast enough.”

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