#calling him green only for this doodle

[carbonateddelusion]

that reminds me actually, I wanna make Gabriel less... Edgar, so I think I'm gonna give him a temper

kinda a reverse of Mark's situation

#Angry 6'8 Man Towers Over You Because You Called Him The Jolly Green Giant #gabe is also kinda ripped too like you do NOT want to piss him off. the only reason he hasn't beaten the crap out of anybody #is bc there's usually kids on set (two of them are his actually) and he doesn't want to scare them #tv show au #oc: edgar #gabriel #doodle #doodles

[heeverseblog]

this time

synopsis: you confessed to jake sim in your senior year of high school but got rejected. now you’re a single mom in need of a math tutor to help your daughter pass math class. you happen to stumble upon jake’s profile and end up hiring him.

pairing: math tutor!jake x single mom!reader

genre: childhood acquaintances to lovers, single parent au, fluff, little bit of angst but happy ending

warnings: unrequited love (only at the beginning), mentions of early pregnancy, abandonment, fear of being in a relationship, one suggestive scene, short argument about career

word count: 11,359 words

note: THIS WHOLE STORY IS RUSHED AND NOT HEAVILY PROOFREAD, SORRY :((((

the first day you saw jake sim was at your school’s library. you were reading “anne of green gables” while he was reading a physics textbook. a freakin’ physics textbook. who reads a physics textbook at eight years old? apparently, jake sim does.

he looked so invested in reading formulas and his glasses were thick black-framed ones. you thought it was cute when he was sticking his tongue out as he was reading probably some formulas and terms. you forgot about gilbert blythe because that day, jake sim became number one in your “the cutest boys i’ve ever seen” list.

word was sent out that you had a huge, massive crush on jake sim. who wouldn’t know when you shout his name every time he passes by your way? you’d give him love notes saying how cute he looked with his glasses and how he has the cutest smile. every cringey, embarrassing thing a girl can do and call her crush just for him to notice her. yes, you’ve done it all.

when you became a teenager, you think that what you feel towards jake is more than just a crush. the longer you got to know him, the more you got to see how kind he was. when everyone was having a hard time understanding math, he’d write on the blackboard formulas and explaining when and where to use them. when a kid fell on his bike, he cleaned the wound and carried him to the school clinic, even when he was tired and sweaty from soccer practice.

one time, you were bored at math class. so you doodled the soccer field from your window. then your math teacher slams his hands on your table and proceeds to humiliate you on your artistic dreams. your colored pencils were confiscated and as shallow as it may be, you felt like a part of you was taken away after being humiliated.

while it was lunch time, jake came out of your classroom going with his friends, sunghoon and jay. you were still sad about what happened a while ago. when you sat down, you were surprised when you colored pencils were placed under your desk. you remember jake coming out of the classroom. you smile, realizing that you liked jake sim.

every girl fell on line in talking to jake sim. but you always made sure you were first. rumors spread that jake had a crush on the transfer student, kazuha. the rumors were confirmed when he asked her to the school dance. they danced that night but nothing bloomed. you noticed jake looked a little sulky the following week. and you thought that simply making him laugh like making funny faces or giving him cookies will make him feel better. and he did. jake was never mean to you. he still treats you kindly like everyone else. and you were fine with that. but you wanted to step your game.

a few weeks left and you will be graduating high school. so you wanted to confess to jake properly. you drew a banner with your confession, “jake sim, will you accept me?” you remember setting up the art room with lights. your art teacher was kind enough to allow you, knowing that you were her favorite student.

“jake sim, i’ve liked you since the day you were reading that textbook in the library. i’ve always liked you and it took me years to properly confess how I truly feel . so… you held out the flowers to him, “will you accept me?”

you felt like crying saying your confession. but you didn’t care. you gave him the peonies from your mother’s flower shop. when you thought will reach for the flowers, he held hands and slowly pulled them down. your face went down along with your hands.

“y/n, i appreciate what you have done…but,” jake looked down at the floor, “i don’t like you like that.”

you’d be lying to yourself when you say you’re not hurt. you tried your best not to blink or else the tears will come out of your eyes.

“oh. um…thank you for being honest.” you gave him a forced smile, feeling your eyes well up. on cue, the school bell rings, signaling it’s time for all students to get out of the building.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?”

jake nods, “see you tomorrow.”

you gave him a pat in the back before turning of the lights then ran out of the art room. you let the tears run down your face as the petals from the peonies fell, leaving a trail on the floor.

after a week, you received your high school diploma and off you to college you go. you and your friends took pictures together and you thought that it would be nice to walk around your school for one last time. from the classrooms, to the playgrounds, to the soccer fields. then you took one last glance at the art room, recalling the day you experienced your first heartbreak.

when you went back to your parents, they gave you a tight hug before giving you a bouquet. then you catch a glimpse of jake with his family. like yours, his parents were proud of him for finishing top of his class. your heart might have swelled a little but before you could feel it more, your dad said he’d take you and your mom out to dinner.

jake sim might not like you back but you were sure that he will be a good memory you can look back to.

“i’m sorry, mom.” your seven-year-old daughter tells you as both of you walked out of her classroom. apparently, she wasn’t the best at math class and her homeroom teacher was beginning to worry. but who were you to be disappointed when you were never the best at math either.

you kneel down, holding your daughter’s shoulders, “aera, we’re going to hire someone to help you, alright?”

aera pouts while nodding her head. you held her cheek, “sweetie, it’ll be alright. hm?” your daughter slowly nods her head then both of you went home.

you’re in an app searching for math tutors that look friendly but will help your daughter excel in class. it’s been an hour and you still haven’t found the right one.

“mommy, what’s for dinner?” aera says as she colors in her coloring book.

“we’re having spaghetti tonight, sweetie.” aera just nods her head and goes back to coloring. when you returned your attention to your phone, a familiar name popped up.

sim jaeyun: part-time physics teacher, part-time math tutor

sim jaeyun or known as jake sim when you were just a girl living in a small town. he was the boy you’ve had a huge crush on ever since you were eight years old. because of your silly crush on him, you confessed to him a week before your high school graduation. but he didn’t like you that way.

admit it or not, jake is a strong candidate. aside from attending the same school as kids, jake was best in math and physics and had a good reputation for being a math wizard.

unconsciously, you tapped the hello! are you available for a meet-up? option.

“shit!” you stand up from the couch.

“mom, that’s a bad word,” aera says while coloring her coloring book at the dinning table.

“you’re right, sweetie. mommy is sorry.” you say and kneeled to reach your daughter’s height. you smile, thinking that your daughter takes after you in her interest in drawing and coloring. she’d always ask you for coloring books, sometimes crayons if her old ones kept breaking. then one time you gave her the 64 crayons that you’ve always wanted as a kid.

“mommy, look!” aera colored the tiger pink.

“that’s wonderful, baby!” aera goes back into coloring while you prepare your dinner.

while you were cooking your spaghetti, your phone beeps and you received a message.

hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

you reply, it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

you take a deep breath and typed your full name.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake: oh wow! how are you doing?

y/n: i’m doing well right now.

jake: that’s good to hear!

jake: about your daughter, where exactly does she need help in math?

y/n: if it’s not too much to ask, she needs help in everything.

jake: oh no problem! are you available to meet-up?

y/n: sure! will send you the details soon.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

“oh no!”

you immediately put your phone down and got the pot away from the stove with smoke coming out of it.

you told jake to meet you at this café that is somewhat near where you lived and where jake is residing. it’s been long since you last saw jake and your last encounter with him was at the art room with a banner and lights where you confessed. then he rejected you.

you were holding tight on your cup of coffee. after you told jake where you were seated, you were expecting to meet him anytime soon. and that thought made you more nervous.

“y/n?”

your organs did somersaults when you hear his familiar voice. and when you turn around, you were also greeted with a familiar face.

“j-jake. hi.”

jake still wore glasses. difference is that they were no longer thick black-framed ones but specs. aside from that, he did not change much. he still looked as gentle like before.

“sorry to keep you waiting. one of my students needed help.”

“no worries. please, take a seat.”

jake sits at the seat across you. he places his bag on the floor then he returns his gaze at you.

“sorry i didn’t order anything for you yet. i didn’t know what you liked.”

“it’s okay. so, your daughter needs help?”

“yeah, aera, she…she has trouble understanding problem-solving equations. has a hard time memorizing the multiplication table too, apparently.”

some part of you felt awkward that your daughter got her weakness in math from you. and jake knew that.

“do you have any worksheets from her class?”

“oh, yes,” you bring out the sheets if paper from your bag and gave it to jake. he reviews the papers and you felt déjà vu, remembering the day you first saw him in the library while reading a physics textbook.

“i see the problem here. she mixes the formulas and interchanges them.”

“is she…does she need extreme hands on help?”

“i can’t say yet but if i tutor her soon, i'll let you know the progress.”

“thank you…” you pause, not knowing to call him mr. sim, teacher sim, or just by his name.

“sorry,” you let out an awkward laugh, “i just don’t know how to address you?”

“jake is fine. i mean we went to the same school.”

“okay. thank you, jake.”

“thank you, too. y/n.” then jake gets his bag.

���you’re leaving?”

“yeah, i have to do some tasks first. but let me know when i can tutor her.”

“sure thing. see you soon?”

jake nods, “see you soon.” then he leaves the café.

you and jake agreed that he will tutor aera from 2 pm to 5 pm every thursday and friday. at first, aera is shy to meet a new person but you assured her that her new tutor is a friend of yours. and she promised that she will behave.

the doorbell rang and as you expected, jake was outside.

“hi.”

“hi. i hope i’m not too early.”

“oh, no. you came just in time. come on in.”

when you let jake in your unit, you told him to wait by the living room while you call aera by her bedroom.

“sweetie, your tutor is here. come and say hi.”

when aera came out of her room, her shyness aent away.

“aera, this is jake. he’s going to tutor you at math. say hi, sweetie.”

“hello!” aera waves to jake to which he found adorable and softly giggles.

“it’s nice to meet you, aera.”

“mommy says you’re her friend. i call aunt yujin and aunt gaeul aunties because they’re mommy’s friends. can i call you uncle jake?”

“aera…”

“uncle jake sounds nice.” jake said with a smile on his face.

“do you want us to start, aera?” jake asks and aera nods before pulling jake to the dining table.

before jake and aera started their tutor session, you asked permission from jake if you can stay by your room with the door open. and he was kind enough to understand that you were careful with aera.

surprisingly, jake and aera got along well. aera had a hard time understanding the formulas and comprehending problems but jake was very patient with her. you always knew that jake would be a great teacher but you never knew that day will actually come true.

“okay, so when you add 4 and 7, you’ll be transferring the other one here, to 6. so it becomes 7. then you add 7 and 2. and what’s the answer?”

“91?”

“good job, aera!” then jake did a high five to aera before circling the worksheet with his red pen.

“uncle jake, can you be my math teacher instead? you’re nicer than mrs. im.”

“did you know that mrs. im was also my math teacher. your mom and i were her students.”

“it means that she’s old! no wonder why she’s so grumpy.”

“aera, what did we say about bad mouthing people?” you say from the kitchen as you start preparing your dinner.

“it’s not going to make us different from them.”

“that’s right.”

jake softly laughed at your statement, “okay, aera. that’s all for today. if you still need help next time, we can always go back. but try studying on your own too, okay?”

“okay, uncle jake!”

jake starts packing his things then you and aera see him out.

“uncle jake, thank you for teaching me today. you’re so nice and i had fun.”

“you’re welcome, aera.”

aera looks up at you, “mommy, say thank you, too.”

you rub aera’s shoulders, “yes, ma’am,” then faced jake, “thank you for helping aera today. really.”

“you’re welcome,” jake looks down at aera, “i’ll see you tomorrow, okay kiddo?”

“see you tomorrow, uncle jake!” aera waves and jake gives her a smile before he leaves.

months have passed since jake tutored aera. the process wasn’t easy at first since aera is really having a hard time understanding math. but as jake promised, he updated you that aera is still in need of help to improve. and you were grateful that he was patient with her, despite being exhausted from being a teacher at school.

most days, aera was excited for her tutoring sessions. she even boasts how she has a good tutor and jake’s her favorite teacher slash uncle. and you have to admit, it was cute.

today, you were busy finishing an illustration for a children’s book. most of the time, you sell your works online or have clients contact you for commissions. it wasn’t a stable job but you had to earn for you and your daughter. and thank god, your clients paid you well.

in the middle of working, you received a message from yujin, saying that there will be a class reunion at the town hall two months from now. you didn’t know if you’ll be able to go but you might if your friends are going.

yujin: so how’s the tutoring going on?

y/n: it’s going pretty well, actually. jake is really patient with aera and he always make sure that she understands what he’s teaching her

gaeul: you know…it’s not too late to re-live high schaer

y/n: eh???

yujin: she means to shoot your shot

y/n: very funny guys -_-

y/n: jake is just tutoring aera and he’s just doing his job

gaeul: 👀

yujin: if you say so 🤪

y/n: gotta get ready. i’ll be picking up aera in a bit and jake will be arriving after.

yujin: ooooh y/n is getting ready for her date.

y/n: OH PLEASE 😡

you roll your eyes before locking your phone and turning off your tablet.

when you were done getting dressed, the doorbell rang and when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake.

“hi, jake. i was just about to pick-up aera from school.”

jake scrunches his forehead then looks at his watch, “oh,” he lets out a laugh, “my class ended early and i might have thought i was late. i can come back later.”

“oh no, please. do you want to come with me and pick-up aera? she’ll be glad to see you.”

“sure.”

“great. let’s go.”

during the car ride, you and jake didn’t say a word. it was either you were busy watching the road or avoiding talking to him.

“so how have you been?”

“hm?”

“i mostly see you during tutoring sessions but we never really…'talked.’”

“oh, uh…well today was fine. i’m currently doing an illustration for a children’s book. not halfway done but I’m making progress. you?” you liked to jake before immediately returning your attention to the road.

“one of my students said that physics was useless and why do we need to study how fast a frisbee can travel.”

you try holding your laugh but jake caught you so you retort, “sorry it’s just that a kinda remember myself. and well, i couldn’t help my daughter in her math homework.”

it was silent again and all you could hear was the tires and the car engine.

“for what’s worth, aera is a good kid.”

you smile at jake’s comment and looked at him for a while, “thanks.”

“we’re here.”

“it’s been a while since i saw this place.”

you spot aera waiting at the waiting area and when she sees your car, she stands up and waits for you. and when you and jake got out of the car, she immediately runs to jake, hugging his leg.

“uncle jake, you’re here!”

jake giggles, “it’s good to see you too, kiddo.” then he rubs aera’s head like usual.

“don’t i get a hug?”

“mommy!” aera opens her arms and then you carry her. she gives you a kiss.

“let’s go home?” you asks and aera nods.

the three of you went to the car. aera was still happy that jake was with you to pick her up.

“uncle jake, can you come and pick me up next time?”

“aera, uncle jake has classes to teach. you can still see each other during tutoring sessions.”

aera pouts at what you said. jake looks back, “how about i bring you ice cream next week?”

aera smiles, “yes, please!”

“you might spoil her with too much sweets.” you nag.

“can it be mint chocolate, please?”

jake’s eyes grew wide then he looks at you and back at aera, “you really are your mother’s daughter.”

“hey mint chocolate deserves to be respected,” you defend.

“not when it tastes like toothbrush.”

“that’s mean!” you and aera say in unison.

throughout the whole ride, three of you were still bickering about mint chocolate being the superior ice cream flavor. you never thought that someone could actually get along with you and your daughter’s antics. and you liked it.

“i’m sorry for the overtime, jake. but don’t worry, i’ll increase today’s payment session.”

exams were coming and aera needed help in studying. you felt bad that you had to ask jake to stay for a while but you promised him that he’ll be compensated more than his usual pay.

“it’s alright. besides, aera needed help.”

“why don’t you stay for dinner? you might be hungry.”

“oh, no. i couldn’t.”

“no, really. it’s the least i can do for thanking you.”

“if you insist then,” jake places his bag down the chair, “dinner would be great.”

and dinner was going great. aera told jake herself that jake was her favorite teacher. and jake felt honored. aera kept telling stories of her school life and how she made friends. then aera tells how

“you know, your uncle jake helped everyone in math before. he’s a math wizard.”

“uncle jake, did you help mom math too?”

“i did. she got the 4th highest grade in our math exam.”

“and of course, your uncle jake got the highest grade.”

jake does this hand gesture where he says “oh please.”

“is my mom hard to teach?”

you and jake laughed, “well…let’s say you’re a fast learner than your mother.”

“mommy, i’m better at you in math!”

“i can’t believe you two are teaming up against me,” then you pretend to get shot at the heart and jake and aera laughed at your antics.

after dinner was done, aera became sleepy. she promised that she’ll finish her homework tomorrow. you let her sleep early because she looked exhausted.

“goodnight, uncle jake.” aera says then yawns.

“goodnight, kiddo. you did well today.” jake kneels down and aera hugs jake. you were surprised but jake returned the hug, the sight melted your heart.

“okay, sweetie. uncle jake has to go home and sleep too.” aera pulls away from the hug and then you tell her to get her clothes and take a shower.

“bye, uncle jake.” aera says before getting inside the bathroom.

when it was just you and jake alone, you looked into each other and laughed.

“aera will be sleeping well tonight.”

“yeah, looks like it.”

“hey,” you pause for a while, “thank you. for helping aera. she hasn’t been this happy for a while.”

“thank you for letting me stay.” for some reason, your heart fluttered, “for dinner.”

“oh,” then you let out a chuckle, “you’re welcome.”

you and jake let out another chuckle. and it might seem cringey but you didn’t care. because right now—this felt right. you looking to his eyes, and him doing the same. almost like you didn’t want him to leave.

“i, uh…” jake coughs, “i should probably go.”

“oh. yeah…right. drive safely.”

jake nods before he opens the door, saying goodbye before leaving.

when you closed the door, you let out a breath you realized you haven’t been holding. you’ve replayed how jake looked at you just a while ago. and every time you remembered his face, your heart would beat fast. when you remember him being a good friend to aera, you couldn’t help but melt at his gentleness towards your daughter.

“mommy?” aera walks out of the bathroom with a towel on her shoulders, “are you sick?”

“huh? oh. no, no sweetie.”

“your face is red.”

“it’s just hot sweetie. let’s tuck you to bed, okay?”

after tucking aera to bed, it was your turn to get ready for bed. and when you thought you’ll be able to sleep peacefully, days of jake bonding with your daughter flashed in your mind again. he hated mint chocolate but when he promised to bring a tub of it, he ate it with you and aera. he finished a cup of it and didn’t think of spitting it out or drinking water to cleanse his tongue. one time, when you gave him a glass of water, your fingers touched and you immediately pulled away.

you kept tossing and turning all night. it was like you were your old self, gushing over jake in the smallest things. though this time, you had a daughter. and jake treats her so well that you couldn’t help but smile and melt.

and you wore that smile until you slept peacefully at night.

lately, you’ve been having headaches while feeling muscle pains. when you took a temperature test, it showed that you had fever. you immediately called yujin, saying you needed help to take care of aera. you couldn’t ask your parents help because they have a store to take of at home. besides, you didn’t want them to take a bus all the way here to the city. you were just thankful that yujin was happy to babysit aera while you we sick and you said that you were fine with being alone for now. you told jake about your sickness and aera’s tutoring sessions will be cancelled for now. he hopes for you to get better soon.

“remember to listen to aunt yujin, alright?”

“mhm!”

“and you don’t keep her waiting when she comes to fetch you.”

“yes, mommy!”

“don’t forget to finish your homework, alright? especially math.”

“yes, mommy!” you smile at your daughter then shift your attention to yujin, “thank you for doing this.”

“aera and i will have a good time, don’t worry,” yujin soothes aera’s head.

“i’m going to miss you, sweetie.” sadly, you couldn’t kiss aera goodbye.

“i’m going to miss you too, mommy!”

“okay sweetie, you’re going be late for school.”

aera and yujin say their goodbyes and you were left alone in your home. you lied down on your bed, with a glass of water beside you. you wrapped yourself in your blanket, hoping that it’ll stop you from shivering.

hours have passed and what you’ve been doing is eating, cleaning the used dishes, drinking medicine, and sleeping. you couldn’t wait to get better but you still felt sick and weak.

you were covered in your blanket when your doorbell rang. you wondered if it was yujin but she must be at home this hour, watching over aera.

you wore your mask before getting the door. when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake holding a stainless-steel lunchbox.

“oh, jake. hi.”

“i, uh…i made us some dinner. i made you soup.” jake raises the lunchbox, “i just thought you needed something to warm you up.”

you couldn’t help but melt at jake’s words. he really has this talent of turning small things into something big. and it made your heart flutter.

“come on in.” you opened the door for jake and let him in like always.

“i’ll just get us some plates.” then jake holds your shoulder, “i’ll do it. you can lie down and rest.”

you nod, “okay.” you were about to enter your room but you turn around, “plates and bowls are in the upper right cabinet.”

“got it.”

“and the spoons—” then jake shows you that he found the utensils on the other side of the cabinet.

“i’ll…” you point to your room and jake assures you that he’s got it covered.

you never let anyone in your home aside from your friends and parents. yujin and gaeul have always been pestering you to go on blind dates but you never did. letting someone else in your life was making you a little doubtful. but you were glad that jake is someone you knew and looks trustworthy.

“hey,” jake enters with a tray of the food he brought. you sit up then jake places the tray in front of you.

“what’s tonight’s main course?”

“well, we have ramyeon with ham, boiled eggs, and green onions.”

“sounds delicious.”

“here,” jake scoops some soup and gently blows it before bringing the spoon close to your mouth. you take the soup in your mouth and you smile, “that’s good soup. give my compliments to the chef.”

jake softly laughs, “will do.”

and jake proceeds to feed you the noodles and other toppings. you felt shy every time you couldn’t take the food in your mouth, especially if they were noodles. but jake didn’t judged you. when you were almost done, you drank the remaining soup left.

“you good?”

you nod, “mhm! thanks for the food. how about you?”

“i already ate, don’t worry.” you nod then you drank your medicine.

“um…jake?”

“yeah?”

“thank you for coming over.”

jake smiles, “you’re welcome. you can sleep if you want to.”

“hm? aren’t you…don’t you need to go home and do other things?”

“if it’s alright with you…could i stay for a while? i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

you couldn’t find the right words to say. jake sim, your highschool classmate, childhood crush, your daughter’s math tutor—is willing to nurse you.

“are you sure?”

“if it’s alright with you. because,” jake slowly brings his hand to your forehead. when you realized what he wanted to do, you leaned forward, letting his hand touch your forehead.

“you’re still burning up.”

the thought of jake sim touching your forehead still causes you to become speechless. when he lets go, you pretended to not be bothered at all.

“are you sure you’ll be okay? i’m a heavy sleeper.”

“i don’t mind. sleep all you want.”

jake takes the tray and helps you fix your pillow, tucking you inside your blanket.

“goodnight, y/n.”

you smile, “goodnight, jake.”

jake was by your side until the day you got better. he cooked you food and let you rest. you felt guilty that he had to nurse you but he wanted to do it wholeheartedly. and your heart fluttered.

you confessed to aera that her uncle jake has been taking care of you while she was away. she was jealous at first because she wanted to take care of you. but you explained to her that you didn’t want to get her sick. she came to her senses and thanked jake that he took care of you. yujin, though, was protective at first but she proceeded to tease you about it.

though lately you’ve realized, your attraction on jake sim was coming back. but this time, you were starting to see him in a different light. he has always been selfless, kind, and gentle but him showing those actions to your daughter made you like him more. but of course, you couldn’t tell him directly how you felt. things were different now that you’re a mom and he’s your daughter’s math tutor.

you’d rather hide your feelings than accept a rejectin. you’ll be reminded that things that come into your life are temporary.

today, you were going to take aera out to a museum for kids. why? because she got a high score in her math exam. while you were sick, aera managed to study on her own and remember the lessons she had with jake. you called jake and told him the news and he felt so proud of her.

“mommy, can uncle jake come with us?”

“i don’t know, sweetie. but i’ll call uncle jake first, okay?” aera nods her head vigorously.

jake’s phone continued ringing and you waited for him to pick-up the call.

“hello, y/n?”

“hey, jake.”

“hi, uncle jake!” aera says and you hear jake laugh.

“aera says hi.”

“well, what’s up?”

“oh…you see, i’m taking aera out today. and we were wondering—i mean she was wondering if…if you wanted to come with us.”

you shake your head, feeling anxious if jake caught you. but that worry disappeared when jake replies, “sure, i mean i’d love to.” and he sounded full of glee.

“g-great! we’ll pick you up then?”

“oh, no. i’ll pick you guys up.”

“oh. but—”

“no, really. i want to pick you guys up.”

“oh,” again, jake’s doing the smallest things can become big. “okay, we’ll be ready by then.”

“okay. see you later.

“see you later.”

never in a long time has jake sim thought that he’ll be meeting y/n again. not in a million years has he also expected to meet y/n’s daughter.

jake sim was just having a regular day: teaching physics at school, checking their papers, and create lesson plans. he goes home, continues checking papers, finishes his lesson plan, and reads more textbooks whether it be math or physics. finally, he washes up, does a little bit of social media, then goes to bed.

jake was used to getting compliments of him being a math genius. many expected him to be a scholar, a professor, an engineer, or a physicist. but it wasn’t that easy. believe it or not, jake sim couldn’t seem to know where he can fit in. he was the golden boy from high school but after he graduated, he became lost and unsure. but he did know he loved math and physics alongside ramyeon noodles.

jake sim does his daily routine when suddenly, he receives a message. he puts his papers down and checks his phone.

hello! are you available for a meet-up?

then he replies, hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

the sender didn’t reply. he thought that it was the usual ones who reply after an hour or two so he goes back to checking his papers.

after a while, the sender replied.

it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake returns his attention to his phone.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

the sender sends a familiar name. then jake remembers a girl he frequently heard in school.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake felt like catching up with an old friend. he might have not known you that much but he knew your reputation of being one of his admirers and that you were full of spirit with a good personality. though he did remember you causing some trouble but you weren’t the bad student type. in fact, he remembers you giving him compliments on sticky notes.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

fast forward to the day jake was going to meet you. it was only a casual meet-up about agreements and how he’ll help your daughter pass math class. he noticed that you seemed worried about your kid but he assured you that he’ll try his best to help her.

and when he met her, he couldn’t help but soften up. meeting aera was like a breath of fresh air to his regular students. aera was willing to listen and learn on her lessons. she was very sweet and fun to be with. her spirit reminded him of yours when you were younger.

“uncle jake, i drew this picture for you.” aera gives him a drawing of him, reading books on the table with a blackboard behind him that had math equations.

“you really drew this?” jake asks amazed at your daughter’s drawing skills.

“mhm! because you’re my favorite teacher and i like you.”

jake couldn’t help but smile at aera. the kid was too cute and sweet to do such a thing. he heard you walking from the kitchen, and you had some biscuits placed inside a bowl.

“for the both of you.”

“thank you, mommy.”

jake notices how aera says “thank you” whether it be small or big actions. he liked that about a kid. but then again, he notices that you do the same. and he can’t help but think that you really are a good  mother.

ever since jake met you and aera, his routine might have become longer than before. but he didn’t mind one bit. not when he can get to help you and aera.

jake’s first reaction of you getting sick was that he got worried. the thought of you sick in bed, alone in your home almost made him loose his mind at class.

“i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

he knew that you got stressed and tired from taking care of aera. he couldn’t imagine how you managed to get through it in seven years. and he wanted to take care of you.

jake might have had had encounters with women but they weren’t any serious. in his defense, he only went on dates so that sunghoon can stop pestering him.

his bond with you and aera’s was different. the only connection you and jake had was that you both went to the same school. now, you don’t have any status aside from the fact that he’s a math tutor. but he liked it when you ask them how they’re doing and give you snacks. something about your smile and warmth makes him feel comfortable and excited at the same time.

right now, he felt happy feeling that you’re letting him be part of your mother and daughter time.

“uncle jake, have you ever been to a museum?”

“i have. your mother and i went to one in a field trip.”

“mommy says that we’re going to a museum filled with drawings.”

“that sounds fun. you excited?”

“mhm! and it’s more exciting because you’re here.”

jake looks at you, smiling at the interaction. throughout the whole ride, he’s been noticing that you’ve been smiling and giggling the whole ride. and he couldn’t help but gush over it.

the moment the three of you came into the museum, aera couldn’t help but become excited. you let aera be happy and excited but not too much or she’ll break some displays.

you took a picture of aera at the interactive displays. jake took pictures of you and aera, you doing vise versa when aera wanted a picture with him. then aera says that she wanted to have a picture with the three of you. when jake looked at the picture, he couldn’t help but think the three of you looked like a family.

“uncle jake, look! you look like my daddy.”

aera’s words affected both of you. jake has always noticed that your bond with you and aera has changed. but he never noticed that it was beyond that. until now.

“sweetie, let’s go to the mannequins, hm?”

“okay!”

then you carry aera and the two of you happily walk to the mannequins. aera was giggling at how the living mannequin gave her a flower.

suddenly, jake saw you carrying a baby in a living room. then aera comes running to you, and you show her the baby. “here’s your little sister, you say.” then you look at jake, “honey.” aera calls him, “daddy!” then runs to his direction.

“jake!”

he blinks when you called him.

“let’s go?”

“uh, y-yeah. i’ll be right there.”

you had a great time day today. aera was happy to spend her day with you guys and you were happy that she’s happy. jake’s company also made you feel happy. you thought that today’s trip would only be you and aera but with jake, it became a memorable one that you’ll never forget.

aera was sleeping peacefully at the back. you and jake were still awake but both of you were tired.

“she had fun, didn’t she?” jake asks, his eyes focusing on the road.

“she certainly did.

“who knew that she can run so fast?”

“one time, i had to chase her for thirty minutes in a playground. couldn’t catch up with her.”

“she reminds me of you. when we were eight.”

“oh please. anyone can barely put up with my energy.”

“it’s one of the best things about you.”

once again, jake sim made your heart flutter. when the car stops, jake looks at you and you avoid his gaze.

you let out a soft laugh, “yeah. i might have passed it down too much. you might have a hard time catching up with us.”

“i don’t mind. i can catch up just fine.”

then the light turns green and jake starts driving again. you were clutching your hand to your chest. your heart was beating fast that you could barely breathe. you hoped that your heart will have mercy until you got home.

minutes later, you arrived at your home. jake said he can carry aera all the way up to your unit.

you opened the door to aera’s room and jake slowly lies her down. you stand by the doorway and watch jake tuck her in and rub aera’s forehead before he leaves the room. both of you take one last glance at aera before you closed the door.

“thank you for tucking her in. and driving us home.”

“you’re welcome.”

just like the other night, you and jake were standing by the door, staring at each other. both of you didn’t say anything but give each other a look. you recognized that look because you had that look from when you were young and when you met jake again. some part of you felt scared. you never let anyone else in your life, after being left with a baby to raise on your own. but that other part was telling you that you felt happy and excited by letting someone in your life again. when all he showed you was you were worth taking care of.

“jake, i—”

jake didn’t let you finish when his lips landed on yours. his mouth molded perfectly in yours and you couldn’t help but kiss back. jake grabs your nape and the action made you sharply inhale. both of you kissed faster and tried catching each other’s lips. realizing that you’re standing in front if your daughter’s door, you pull away.

“she might hear us.” you whisper and before jake could say anything, you pulled him to your room.

when both of you got inside, you lean at the door and jake kisses you again. this time, you pulled him down by wrapping your arms around his neck. you tried catching your breaths before diving back into each other’s lips. jake slides his hand down to your waist and you let out a whimper. he took that signal as a sign to take off his coat and pull you with him.

you ended up being on top of jake and both if you giggled. you took off your jacket and before you knew it, jake was on top of you. he goes back to kissing you and holding your waist, as you held the sides of his face. jake’s lips left yours as he brushes it to your cheeks, down to your jaw, then down to your neck.

you let out a sigh, feeling euphoria. his touch was gentle and you yearned for it. you pull jake closer and he continues his magic. he slides his hands up then behind your back. you pull jake up and kissed again. he slows his movements this time, getting the rhythm that you wanted.

then realization hit you. this feeling was familiar and the thought was scaring you. the last time you felt this kind of attraction, that person was temporary in your life. you knew that jake was too. eventually, you and jake will part ways when his task is done.

“jake…” you say when you pull away. but jake doesn’t hear you and latches his lips on your neck again.

“wait. jake, stop.”

then jake finally hears you and his eyes looked worried.

“did i hurt you?”

“no. no, no. i…”

you couldn’t look at him in the eye. when you stood up, you brushed your hair back and looked at anywhere else.

“is everything okay?”

“i’m sorry. i don’t…”

you covered your face out if embarrassment, along with fear.

“y/n?” jake holds your arm. his touch made you slowly uncover your face.

“are you okay?”

“i’m…i’m scared.”

jake looks at you with his soft eyes. he places his hand on your cheek and you can feel the tears falling from your eyes.

“oh, no. don’t cry.”

but you did. you let yourself be pulled by jake’s embrace. jake calms you down by rubbing your back.

“everything is going to be alright. i'm here.”

for the first time, you’re actually believing those words.

after crying and staying silent for hours, you finally had the courage to tell jake your sturggles.

“I met this guy in college. he was a year older than me but we took the same class.

“we went on a few dates before we became official. we had a plan. we graduate, gets jobs, get married, and eventually start a family.

“getting drunk at the graduation party was not part of it. getting pregnant after the party—not at all.”

jake continues to hold your hand as both of you lie down on your bed. he let you rest your head on his shoulder as you tell your story. jake sympathized with you, waiting for you to finish what you wanted to say.

“i told him but he said he was sticking to his plan. so he’s completely out of the picture and i raised aera on my own.

“ever since then, i was so scared of letting anyone in my life again. it scares me.

“i’m sorry.”

jake puts his hand on your cheek and you face him.

“don’t be. you’re allowed to feel what you feel.”

you give jake a smile, still feeling your eyes swell. but you were thankful that jake was very understanding.

“thank you for listening.”

“thank you for telling me.”

jake soothes your back and you didn’t notice that you fell asleep in his arms.

after that night, you and jake exchanged “hi’s” awkwardly. but you tried your best not to show aera or let it affect you and jake’s agreement.

weeks passed, you and jake grew out of your awkward phase and became more comfortable eith each other. but he never forced you to start anything with him. he continued being a great father-figure to aera.

you can say that what you had was unlabeled but a part of you knows that you were starting to fall in love with jake. but you were afraid to tell him.

you were just washing the dishes after jake and aera finished their cakes. then aera’s question made you stop.

“uncle jake, if i get a high grade in math, does that mean you won’t be going here anymore?”

“of course not, kiddo. why would you think that?”

“because after i get a high grade, you won’t be teaching me anymore.”

“well, yes…because you already know how to do math. but…” at this point, you were looking at jake then he continues, “it doesn’t mean i'll stop visiting you.”

“really?”

“really.”

then aera hugs jake and he hugged her back.

“if you ace the final exam, we’ll eat mint chocolate ice cream together.” then jake looks at you.

“okay!”

aera did her best and jake was beyond proud of her. you were too. you were proud for the both of them. seeing jake with aera, you thought that he can be more than a father-figure. you knew that both of them have a special bond that is more than a tutor and student.

the next days, jake was starting to stay at home longer. he was so familiar with the place that he remembers where you keep your plates and utensils. one time, the three of you played monopoly and you didn’t remember how long you played because the three of you were having fun. jake declared himself as the winner even though there is no real winner in monopoly.

some nights, you and jake would tuck aera together and she liked it. she never complained about having a father but with jake becoming part of your lives, it was like a dream come true for her.

“i don’t know if me hanging out longer looks like i'm invading your home.”

“i don’t mind. besides, we like having you around.”

you and jake were alone in the living room. drinking a glass of wine while having late night conversations.

“do you maybe…want us to go out sometime? just the two of us.”

“yeah. i’d love that.”

“great. it’s a date then.”

you were surprised but you liked it.

“yes, jake. it’s a date.”

you lean on the couch with the glass on your right hand. jake leans in the couch too, looking at you softly.

“it’s weird though.”

“what is?”

“that i never got to see how amazing you are. you’re not just the girl who causes trouble or teachers dislike for drawing in class.”

“to be fair, i never realized how good you are with kids. it’s making me hard not to fall for you.”

you didn’t know if it was the alcohol. but you suddenly confessing your feelings for jake sim was somehow déjà vu.

“i’ll, uh,” you put down your glass, “i’ll make us some coffee.”

you stand up and was about to go to the kitchen when jake pulls you around and kisses you. you kissed him back, tasting the red sine you just drank. jake holds your cheek and you lean forward, holding his waist.

when you pull away, your eyes were still closed but you can feel jake’s breath on your lips.

“i love you.”

you open your eyes and jake was smiling at you. His cheeks were red. might be from the wine or from the proximity and confession he just said.

 “i’m not drunk am i?”

jake smirks, “i don’t think so.” then kisses you again, and you pull him closer.

“thank you for accepting me.” you whisper at his lips.

“no. thank you for accepting me.”

who would’ve thought that a bottle of red wine was all you needed for the perfect confession. but for now, you needed to make two cups of coffee so you and jake can have a proper conversation.

when you told aera the news, you told her that you loved jake like how anne loves gilbert and that jake loves you the same. then aera follows, “but didn’t you already know?” and you were caught off guard.

nevertheless, aera liked the idea of you and jake being together. you haven’t told her about how you met jake. but one day you will so that she’ll know that the right person will come along in time.

just as jake promised you, both of you will be going on a date together. you asked where you’ll be going but he said it was a surprise.

so you dressed up wearing a denim dress that you thought you’ll never use. you wore the necklace your mother gave you when you graduated high school. it felt weird when you asked aera if you looked okay. but she says that you look beautiful as ever. both yujin and gaeul wanted to babysit her this time. but you also knew that they wanted to see you finally having your date with jake sim. but they were hapoy for you that you finally found someone.

“you really don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”

“not a chance.”

you roll your eyes but you knew that jake was trying to give you a date you can remember.

minutes later, the scenery changed into a lake. the water was shining and the grass was turning to a yellow green color thanks to the sunlight. your jaw dropped at the scenery. it was like an actual painting.

when jake stopped the car, he immediately got out and opened the door for you.

“i wanted to find a place only for us.”

“how did you find this place?”

“had a little help from sunghoon and jay.”

“oh how are those two anyway?”

“they’re doing well, actually. jay is engaged and sunghoon is in denial that he’s crushing on his workmate.

you laugh, remembering sunghoon for his schemes and playboy antics. you remember him teasing jake about a girl he liked in high school.

“you okay?”

“hm?”

“you look grumpy.”

“oh.” you shake your head and grab the picnic basket from jake, “come on!”

the whole picnic, you and jake did some catching up. you told him that your parents are still residing in your hometown and your mom’s flower shop is still om business. your dad retired long ago and he just stays at home. jake’s parents were in australia and they were professors in two different universities.

“i suddenly remembered something. weren’t you supposed to move back to australia after high school?”

jake looks down at your figure, “you trying to get rid of me?” then you give jake a “really?” look and he laughs. you sit up and looked at him, placing your palm on his chest. jake was looking up at the sky, thinking deep.

“it was planned, yes. honestly, i was happy to be back home for a while but…something was telling me that i had to be somewhere else.

“i told my parents that i wanted to go back here. they were hesitant at first but i told them to trust me.”

“and did you find what you were looking for?”

“i did,” then he looks at you, “and i realized that i made the right choice to come home.”

“welcome home, jake.” you leaned down and intended to give him a quick kiss but he leans his face forward, trapping your lips.

“that wasn’t fair.”

“i love you too.”

you laugh but gave jake quick pecks and kept saying “I love you’s” in between. you were afraid of being too affectionate but you couldn’t help but show them when jake showers you a lot of it.

jake giggles like a kid then he hovers over you and it was his turn to attack you with kisses.

then both of you ate the sandwiches he made then watched the sunset together. and it was better than any romance movie you watched.

you and jake didn’t really care if you wanted to go public with your relationship. but now that both of you are driving back to your home town for the reunion, you couldn’t help but be nervous. everyone in high school knew your reputation especially that jake was involved. they don’t even know that you’re a single mom of a seven-year-old girl. and now, you’re dating the boy you had a crush on.

your friends won’t be coming because they had to babysit aera. you were hesitant at first to go but you promised jake that you’ll come with him. also, he really wanted to introduce you as his girlfriend to his friends.

“you ready?” jake unbuckles his seatbelt and then he notices you tensing up.

“you okay, baby?”

“what? oh. y-yeah. maybe not?”

“i’ll be with you the whole time,” jake places his hand on yours, “okay?”

you gulp then nod, “okay.”

jake unbuckles your seatbelt, “let’s go.”

when you and jake entered the hall, everyone was in their tables, probably chatting about their careers and relationships. they were all familiar faces. chaewon, the former class president, was chatting with your former homeroom teacher, mrs. bang. somi, one of jake’s admirers was with a date. ej was with his friend nicholas. those two were hard to separate.

“jake, my man!”

you and jake turn around and see jay approaching you. he and jake gave a brotherly hug. then out of no where, sunghoon barges in and headlocks jake.

“dude!”

“sim jaeyun is here!”

and apparently it caught everyone’s attention and they began whispering when they saw you with the famous “02z of daebom high.”

“so…jake.” sunghoon eyes you then back to jake, raising his eyebrows up and down.

“sunghoon, jay, you remember y/n, don’t you?” jake places his hand around your waist.

“how could we forget when she always screams in the hallways 'jake sim jjan!’ or ‘jakey, the sun can’t shine without your existence in the world!’”

“oh please, don’t.” your face becomes red from embarrassment.

“but y/n, i have to say, it’s about time jake did something more than spend his time on paperwork.”

the four of you chatted for a while before finding a table for the four of you. being in the same table with the three flower boys was your high school dream. it felt weird that it came true after many years but in different circumstances.

“baby, want something to eat?”

“not that hungry, thank you.”

“how about some appetizers?”

“meatballs with cheese would be nice though.”

“i’ll be right back,” jake eyes his friends, “be nice.”

“yes, sir!” sunghoon and jay do a salute before jake leaves you with them.

“y/n, tell me. has jake been giving you headaches?”

“no, actually, he’s been helping me a lot. he’d drop by and help tutor my daughter. then we’d have movie nights until we tuck aera to sleep. we go and do the most mundane dates but with him…he makes it so special.”

then you noticed jay and sunghoon just looking at you in awe.

“you really love him, don’t you?”

you nod, “i do. very much.”

“he may not be telling you this but, ever since he met you, his boring, ordinary life became vibrant and full of joy. i’ve never seen him that happy since.”

jay’s words made you feel accepted. he has always had a way with words but it was the first time you actually heard it.

“thanks, jay.”

“y/n, in case he does do something stupid, just give him a smack in the head and he’ll come around.”

“will try to remember that, sunghoon.”

“meatballs for my lady,” jake places the plate in front of you. jay and sunghoon were about to get some when jake slaps their hands.

“go get your own.”

jay was about to slap jake’s shoulder when mrs. bang starts to speak.

“class of 20xx, i’d like to start this reunion by saying, welcome home.”

everyone claps and you follow. your homeroom teacher continues by saying that there will be a program performed by somi and her friends. like before, she’s always had charisma when performing on stage.

there was games. pocky games were always the best. jay and sunghoon did it by vote. everyone cheered when the pocky stick became small in very bite. both of them didn’t want to loose but they didn’t want to touch each other’s lips either so jay took the fall.

there were some awardings too. the life of the party: sunghoon. shy prince: ej. math wizard: your jake. you got the artist award.

the event was still on-going but you and jake left early. you wanted jake to formally meet your parents.

on the drive going there, you felt nervous but you didn’t want to let jake know. as for jake, you can sense that he’s nervous because he was biting his tongue while looking at his feet.

“baby,” you call jake and when he turns around, “you cup his face.”

“they’re going to love you.”

this time, you’re assuring jake. you felt nervous too but you love jake and you know that he’s a good man that your parents will love.

you and jake waited for someone to answer the door. and when it opened, your mom answers it.

“hi, mom. dad.”

“y/n? who’s this?”

“this is jake. he’s my boyfriend.”

and your parents ended up loving jake. they remember him when you mentioned you went to daebom high together. suddenly, they told jake stories about you gushing over jake. you figured that you had quite the reputation here in town.

“oh jake, you should’ve seen y/n write your name at the back of her notebook with hearts.”

“mom!” you cover your face but your parents kept teasing you.

“jake, y/n might seem the free spirit type but she’s someone who has a big heart.”

“yes, sir. and i'll take care of her and aera.”

your dad kept offering jake some alcohol but you kept reminding him that both of you need to drive home. but a twist of events lead to jake becoming wasted and your parents saying that both of you should spend the night here.

“mom, i have to see aera.”

“y/n, you’re tired and jake is drunk. now, i don’t want both of you getting into an accident.”

you sigh, “yes, mom.”

you carried jake to your old room and lie him on his back. he kept calling your name but you just laughed, finding him cute with his red face.

“baby, i need to take off your shirt. okay?”

jake pouts and covers his chest, “my girlfriend will get mad at me.”

“jake, it’s me.”

jake slowly opens his eyes, “oHhh y/n!”

just like that, jake was fast asleep. you slowly lifted him so he can sit up. when he was sitting on the head board, you gently unbuttoned his shirt. you were thankful that he was wearing a white shirt inside. after that, you positioned him facing the side with a pillow under his head.

“talk about ‘i’ll take care of her.’”

you laugh softly but you lightly jake’s head. he looked really cute. sleeping like a baby.

“y/n…” jake says  slurring in his sleep.

“you and aera,” he lets out a hiccup, “are the best thing,” another hiccup, “that’s ever happened to me.”

for so long, you were so scared that when you let someone in your life, they’d leave you. for a while, you thought that you were content that it was just you and your daughter against the world. but eventually, this man right here, drunk and sleep talking is going to be a good father to aera. this man right here is the one you want to spend the rest if your life with.

you’ve been dating for a while now and he has been dropping by your place almost every day. so you asked him to move in with you. it wasn’t anything new except that jake doesn’t have to drive before he gets to see you and aera.

and when you slept at the same bed for the first time, it was a little awkward. but like before, both of you adjusted and got used to it.

you and jake would cuddle before you go to bed. he’d be the big spoon, whether you were facing behind him or you were lying on his chest.

“you know, i should’ve asked you sooner.”

“be grateful that i said yes in a heartbeat.”

“oh, thank you, sir jake.” you teasingly thank him like he was a knight.

the rest of the night, you’d have tickle fights until both of you will snuggle until you sleep.

but like any other relationship, there were always misunderstandings and conflicts.

“jake, all i'm saying is that we don’t have enough money to buy a new place.”

“y/n, i have enough to get us one.”

“didn’t it come across your mind that we should be buying it together?”

“well if maybe your job was—”

“what, jake? if i were a teacher, earning a monthly salary like you?”

“y/n, that’s not what i meant.”

but you walked out before he could finish. you didn’t talk to jake for the rest of the night. jake waa in the living room while you stayed in your bedroom. you were thankful that aera was oblivious to the situation.

after an hour, jake went inside your room and you were facing behind him.

“y/n…”

you didn’t say anything.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.”

“you think?”

“i just thought that if we get a new place, we’d finally settle in a home as a family. but truth is, wherever you are…you are my home.”

you finally turn around, but all you could do was stare at jake as he waits for you to say something.

“did you say family?”

‘yeah. i did.”

you didn’t think before hugging jake. he hugs you back, burying his face on your neck.

you and jake agreed that when the time is right, you’ll get a new place and everything else will fall into place.

you’ve been thinking for a while about what jake said. you did consider moving to a new place but your savings weren’t enough. but you also wanted to start a new life with jake in it.

so you decided to find a full-time job as an art teacher for elementary students. hoping that you’ll have enough income for your family’s future. and no, you didn’t force yourself. you choice this because it’s for the ones you love.

“ms. y/n, am i doing a okay?”

“you’re doing great, jungwon!” you give your student a big smile.

“niki you’re doing great too!”

you never fail to compliment your students. you might not have the best audiences when you were young. but you didn’t want to crush children’s dreams when they remind you of how you were.

“okay, kids. don’t forget that your homework is due tomorrow.”

you were thankful that your class was the last one. you were in the middle of fixing your things when someone knocked at the door.

“hey.”

“hey. your class is done?”

“yeah. well, i clocked out early.”

oh, right. jake finally became a full-time math teacher. both of you work at the same school. he thought that he should be helping you so you can get a new place. besides, it’s a great opportunity for him to go home with you and aera.

“are you not feeling well?” you stand up and held jake’s forehead but he shakes his head.

“actually, we are going out for a while.”

your eyes grew wide, “where are we going?”

“i’ll tell you when we get there.”

“jake.”

“it’s going to be fun,” you raised your brow at jake then he says, “i promise.”

next thing you knew, you and jake were in the car taking the route to  your hometown. the next surprising thing is when he parked in front of your old school.

“what are we doing here?”

jake just gives you a smile before getting out of the car. he opens the door for you, kneeling down.

“come with me.”

it might seem weird that jake always makes your heart flutter for the bare minimum but heck, this is jake sim we’re talking about.

both if you were walking down the hallways of the school. it felt weird walking in the same place where you called jake’s name to get his attention. now, you’re holding each other’s hand.

“don’t worry, the teachers know that we’re visiting.”

“any reason why we’re visiting?”

“when we reach the end of the hall, you’ll know.”

so you and jake continue walking. both of you stop then jake holds your hand.

“for this part, i'm going to need you to close your eyes.”

you were hesitant at first but you did what jake asked. he was holding your hand the whole time you walked with your eyes closed. then he stopped.

“wait a minute.”

jake’s lets go if your hand.

“you can open them now.”

you were greeted with lights behind jake. the banner with the sign, “will you accept me?” then you realized that this is how you confessed to jake in high school. and you’re in the same room.

jake was holding a bouquet with pink, white, and red roses with baby’s breath. and he had a ring on his other hand.

“y/n, i never would’ve thought that my boring, plain, life would be so colorful, vibrant, and joyful. you and aera…i couldn’t imagine how my life would turn out if you weren’t in my life. you let me become part of your life, and i want to spend my remaining days with you and our family.”

“so,” jake kneels down in front of you. the action caught your breath away.

“will you accept me?”

you gave yourself a minute to process what was happening. and when you did, you finally say…

“jake, i appreciate what you have done but…

“it would be a shame if i don’t say yes.”

you laugh and you let your tears fall on your face.

“yes, yes, yes.”

 jake stands up and finally gives you a tight hug. you bury your face in his chest.

jake kisses your head and whispers, “i love you.”

you lift your head up, “i love you.”

the last time you fell in love, things might not have gone the way you wanted them to. you doubted a lot of things and distanced yourself. then you met a man who proved to you that you deserve a second chance.

this time, you were sure that it will be different and will be the best thing that has ever happened to you.

***

epilogue

#ENHYPENWRITERS #enhypen au #enhypen jake au #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jaeyun x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen jake fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen jake angst #enhypen jaeyun #enhypen jaeyun fluff #enhypen jaeyun angst #enhypen jake x reader fluff #enhypen jake x reader angst #jake sim au #sim jaeyun #jake au #jaeyun au

[polarspaz]

Some KnowingToomuch AU doodles!

Starting upper right: Tim somehow gets into a really nasty entanglement with another eldritch being, and the entity below Arkham forces Jason to change in order to save Tim. It works, but Jason doesn’t take the transformation well.

Tim’s purpose it to foster hope, to keep people resolute and loyal to Gotham, but Jason’s purpose is rebirth. He is the avatar of the endless cycle of death and rebirth that both heroes and villains go through. That means that even if Batman dies, Jason ensures he is brought back to life, but this also means he has to give the same treatment to villains and resurrect them as well.

The knowledge that he is the reason the Joker keeps coming back is enough for Jason to be pushed mentally to the brink and Tim panics. His whole mission was to keep his family from becoming monsters like him, and seeing Jason in agony is enough to spur Tim into a very erratic decision. 

He erases Jason’s memory of the experience. 

It is not easy, and Tim is stuck in bed for a week with a migraine that exists on multiple realities, but Jason is back to being human, completely unware once more. So Tim should be happy right? Well No, considering the fact he feels incredibly guilty for tampering with Jason’s memory and Jason? Well he’s not an idiot and knows Tim is hiding something from him.

The pic next to that is when Tim loses control of his form in front of the Batfamily for the first time.

It’s been 2 months since Tim changed and he’s been doing a great job at looking and acting completely normal, expect for one tinny, tiny, mistake he makes one night.

He is abruptly awoken from his nap and called down to the Batcave for an emergency. Still half asleep, he gets up and shuffles down there to see Bruce and Duck arguing by the computer. He yawns and stands next to Damian, only to have the younger give him a confused double take before asking. “Who the hell are you?!”

Tim rolls his eyes and goes to say something sarcastic but stops when he notices something, he is standing eye to eye with Damian. He takes a quick glance down at himself and realizes he is 13 years old again.

Dick and Bruce are now looking at him in alarm and Tim unconsciously shifts his form back into his current older self right in front of them. This of course causes things to get even worse and Tim just straight up loses control and shifts into his full eldritch form.

Knowing he can’t tell them the truth, Tim lies and says that his current state is because of a recent scuffle he had with a magic caster. The family buys it at first but as the months creep by and with no cure for Tim’s ‘condition’ in sight they start to get suspicious. 

-----

The bottom left pic, thelittle green monster, is Damian if he ever got an eldritch form. ((Damain is not old enough/entrenched enough to have a purpose bestowed upon him like the rest of the Batfam.))

And next to that is Dick still teasing Tim, even if they are eldritch horror monsters now. ((Dick purpose is to ignite joy and humanity for Gotham. His influence actually helps the rest of the Batfamily retain their human feelings and emotions. And just like Jason, this also benefits the villains too.)) 

And then next to that is Tim hanging out with Cass. Even with his new body, Cass can still easily read his body language and Tim finds comfort in that.

#knowingtoomuch au #my art #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #dick grayson #cassandra cain #DC comics #monsters #eldrich horror #body horror

[chososchalupa]

PLS PLS MORE MEAN MEGUMI SMUT OMG IM SHHSDXI

ahhh, ofc!! Mean Megumi is my absolute fav. Disclaimer that I am new to writing smut so i’m so sorry if this is awful 😭

Partners / Megumi Fushiguro

MDNI 18+

Warnings,,, Aged up! Megumi x F!Reader, OOC, blackmail, name calling, slapping, not proofread 🥹 NSFW under cut‼️

WC - 1.4K

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Being paired with Megumi Fushiguro for the end of the year project may not have seemed like an issue for most people, in fact, you’d guess most girls would love to be partnered with the black haired, green eyed boy. You on the other hand, were less than pleased. You’ve known Megumi since the beginning of high school as you were both in the same friend group. It seemed as though you were the only person to see the true Megumi; the constant belittling, the blackmail and the “innocent” pranks as your common friends would call them, but you knew too well that there was nothing innocent about Megumi.

“So,” the boy turned around as the teacher finished announcing the partners for the upcoming project, “Want to meet in my dorm after class? We can start early”

You nodded your head, not bothering to look up from the paper you were doodling on.

Megumi huffed at your answer before grabbing the piece of paper from beneath your pencil, “I said, Want to meet in my dorm after class?”

You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior, “Whatver you want, Megumi. Can i have that back now?”

Megumi smiled as he threw the crumpled paper back onto your desk, “See you after class”

༘⋆

As you walked into Megumis dorm, you were greeted with the soft sound of a shower running. You looked around the room and noticed Megumi was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll be out in a sec!”

You heard a voice yell from the connected bathroom. You didn’t respond as you sat on his bed, pulling your computer out from your backpack. Megumi walked out only a few second later, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants. Your eyes wandered over his body, he was a pretty attractive person if you ignored his asshole personality. Sparkling green eyes, dark black hair and a body that some would only wish to have.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart” he laughed as you regained your focus and locked eyes.

“Sorry, I must have spaced out” you replied, darting your eyes back down your computer.

“Right..” he laughed as he sat at his desk beside the bed. “I was thinking we could both do some research and then compare notes and then we can go from there?”

You nodded as you looked over towards him, “Sounds good to me”

The two of you spent the next hour researching your topic before Megumi threw his head back, “I am beyond bored” he mumbled.

You didn’t respond as your eyes glanced over his body, stopping at the slight bulge in his pants that was far more noticeable now that he had leaned his body back against the chair, spreading his legs as he continued complaining.

You didn’t notice when he finally finished his sentence, too entranced to realize Megumi had been watching you stare at him with a look of amusement in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” he asked, “I always thought you had a crush on me”

“Huh?” You responded, peeling your eyes from him once again, “I honestly can’t stand you. You’re bossy, rude and extremely arrogant”

“Is that really what you think of me?” he asked, standing from the chair as he walked over to where you were on his bed

“It is” you responded, slowly moving back as he sat beside you.

“Show me how much you dislike me then” he smirked, grabbing the back of your head and crashing his lips onto yours.

Once you got over the shock of what was happening, you kissed back. The kiss was slow at first, his warm hands making their way down your body as he deepened the kiss. His hands moving to your chest as he removed your shirt and bra, taking your nipple between his fingers to twist and pinch. A soft moan escaped your lips as he continued massaging your breast. He took advantage of the opening in your mouth and quickly slipped his tongue in.

The two of you continued the kiss as you slowly undressed, leaving you both completely nude as he pulled away with a smile. Your heart was racing as you looked down at his hardened cock, he was so big. There was no way he was going to fit inside you, but the thought of him trying had you clenching around nothing.

He noticed the slight fear in your eyes and chuckled, “We’ll go slow”.

You nodded as you leaned up to kiss him again, he happily accepted and slowly leaned you back against his pillows. You felt his hands move down your body, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he felt your dripping core, “You’re so wet just for me” he spoke as he broke the kiss.

Before you could respond, Megumi shoved two fingers in at once, causing you to moan loudly at the sudden stimulation. He continued pumping his fingers in and out of you as he kissed and bit all over your body, covering you in dark purple and red love bites.

“God, you’re just sucking my fingers in” he moaned as he looked back up at your face.

“Such a good girl” he spoke as he removed his fingers and lined his length up with your entrance.

“Go slow” you whispered

Megumi gave a quick glance back to your face, eyes full of lust as he smiled wickedly.

“You can take it” he responded before quickly shoving his cock into your leaking hole. You moaned loudly at his actions, one part from pain and the other from pleasure. Your hands quickly found their way to his back, digging your nails in as he pounded into you.

“Such a good fucking slut” he spoke, slapping you across the face before squishing your cheeks together with his hand. “You take me so well. This may be the only thing you’re fucking good for”

His words caused tears to fill your eyes as he continued, “Awe, are you going to cry? Am i being too rough? A whore like you should be able to take this. I’m going so easy on you”

You blinked slowly, letting the tears drip down your cheeks. Although his words were hurting you, the pleasure he was giving was more than enough to make up for the harsh words. You felt your core tighten as you got closer to your release, “I’m so close, ‘gumi. Please”

Megumi smirked at your words, kissing you again before pulling out and flipping you over onto your stomach. You arched your back, desperate for him to continue fucking you. When the feeling never came, you looked behind you to see him tossing his phone to the side.

“Am i taking too long?” he asked, before slowly inching himself back inside you. “So needy”

As Megumi thrusted in and out of you, he wrapped his arms around your stomach, slowly rubbing your clit as the knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter.

“Megumi, i’m going to cum” you moaned as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“Cum for me. Show me how good i’m making you feel”

As he finished speaking, the knot finally snapped as you came around Megumis length, tightening around him.

“Fuck,” He moaned, “I’m cumming” and with that, he slammed himself deep inside you making sure nothing would drip out as he slowly pulled out of you.

༘⋆

The two of you laid on the bed in silence as you caught your breath,

“That was a good way to cure my bordem” he laughed

“Yeah, We should probably get back to the project now though” you replied as you looked at the time on your phone.

“You mean, you should get back to the project now”

You looked over at Megumi confused as he had a smile on his face.

“Unlessss, you want this spread around the school” he laughed as he waved his phone in front of your face.

A picture of you, back arched as you waited for Megumi was on the screen.

“Delete that!” you gasped as you reached for the phone, only for him to pull it away quickly.

“I will, I will. As long as you complete this project for us AND get us a good grade” he smiled as got off the bed.

He walked to his desk and grabbed the paper he had taken notes on earlier.

“Here’s my half. You got it from here?” he asked, as he handed you the paper that was less than halfway filled.

You rolled your eyes at his remark, “I really can’t stand you”

༘⋆

The day the project was due came two days later and as expected, you received an ‘A’ on yours and Megumis project. As you received the paper with your grades, Megumi spun around in his chair.

“You really are the best partner. We should work together again sometime”

#megumi fushiguro smut #bully megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader

[bunnylovesani]

The Bratty Belle

Chapter 1

Summary: You’ve just moved to the city and want to get to know your new neighbours. One very snarky and very handsome one in particular presents you with a challenge.

WC: 2k

After spending all day unpacking, you finally sat down to observe your new surroundings: you’d kept most of your old furniture, like the vanity table perched in the corner along with your beloved princess bed- complete with an intricately carved wooden headboard. The room was pleasantly familiar beside the new addition of white chiffon curtains that hung around your bed, shrouding you in a comforting cocoon. You let out a dreamy sigh, fiddling with the numerous pillows and plushies littered all over your plush bedding. You might be old enough to move to the big city and have your own condo, but you’ll still cuddle your tatty old teddy to sleep.

Peering out the window, you observe the neighbouring houses strewn along the street opposite, a green meadow separating the complexes. Most of them had a door and mailbox per floor, signifying that a different person resided on each of the levels. The same could not be said, however, for the last house at the very end of the street, which stood detached and boasted a single entryway. It was the only house you could see into being that it was directly opposite yours- unlike the other condos, which joined together in rows a little further up the road. You’d only moved in 2 days ago but noticed that the blinds were shut and the lights always remained off. Maybe no one lived there?

As a reward for your gruelling work unpacking, you took some candy along with your sketchpad and headed out to the field outside your new home. Deciding against another layer over your pink mini dress, you grabbed a picnic blanket and staked out the perfect spot - cosy and tucked away so that the neighbours down the road wouldn’t notice you. Your feet kicked the air playfully as you doodled the flowers in your line of sight, humming contentedly with a cherry-flavoured lollipop hanging from your lips. You were so engrossed in your sketch that you almost didn’t notice the shadow looming over you, blocking the warm sunlight.

“Who are you?” A tall man with dark features frowned at you and you looked up, mirroring his frown.

“I don’t talk to strangers.” You huffed, returning your attention to your notebook. That wasn’t strictly true- you were bubbly and befriended anyone who would have you but this man in particular intimidated you.

“What are you, ten?” He scoffed and raised his thick eyebrows, forehead wrinkles deepening.

Much to your annoyance, you could sense that he wasn’t leaving before he got a satisfactory response - so you put your pencil down and looked up at him again. His cerulean blue eyes shone so brightly they practically twinkled and a sharp spark flew through your heart at the sight. Rugged, almost-black hair choppily framed his chiselled face, which had smudges of dirt and sweat flecking his tanned skin. A manual labourer, perhaps?

“I’m Bunny. Jus’ moved in over there.” You turn around and point at the apartment behind you. “And you are?”

“Happy to see you.” His deep, raspy voice replied teasingly.

“I meant your name.” You corrected him snappily.

“My real one or a fake one like you just gave me?” You pout your lips; you didn’t like his sharp tongue.

“I’m James. James Kelly.” He said after a while of staring at your scrunched-up face. “I’ll call you by your stupid pet name if you crave affection that badly.”

Your mouth gaped open at his callous words and you felt as though you’d been unmasked. It was undoubtedly pathetic but the truth was you considered your first name to be too harsh, too cold. You much preferred being sensitively referred to by an affectionate pet name- one that people often didn’t realise they were being duped into using, assuming it was real. But not him.

“You won’t get the opportunity to use it, I’ll make sure of that.” You crossed your arms and furrowed your brows.

“Well you’re just a little ball of anger aren’t you?” He chuckled, finding your short temper adorable. “Very tense for one so young.”

“And you’re very nosy for one so old.” You gather your colouring pencils into your fluffy pencil case, your creative inspiration rattled by his presence. You surmised that he was at least 10 years your senior; his hands looked weathered but still supple, his crows feet visible but not yet entrenched.

“Hey, you don’t have to move, I’m leaving.” He protests but you’re already on your feet. “Alright moody, suit yourself.”

You shoot him a displeased look as you clutch your sketchpad tightly against your chest, turning your back to him and taking a step forward.

“By the way.” He adds and you halt tentatively. “You should really wear a longer dress if you’re gonna be laying down like that. I could see your panties.”

Your cheeks flush a burning red and you screw your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“They’re cute though. I like the strawberry print.” You can feel his grin beaming through his words and you want nothing more than to run away and never see his stupid handsome face again.

“Leave me alone.” You attempt to say confidently but it comes out as more of a squeak. You tried to walk off with as much dignity as you could manage under the pressure of his burning gaze but you ended up frantically skipping back, wanting to go home and bury your face in your pillows as soon as possible.

“What a rude man.” You thought. “Rude and irritatingly attractive.”

Later that evening, you took it upon yourself to bake several lots of chocolate chip cookies- eager to use them as a way of getting into your new neighbour’s good graces since you lived off a steady diet of praise and compliments. You separated the different batches and ordered them into various paper bags, each lovingly wrapped with a ribbon and placed delicately into a woven wicker basket. Glancing into the mirror before you set off, you manoeuvred your lace-trimmed tank top down a little to accentuate your cleavage- you loved to watch men struggle to maintain eye contact with you.

After determining your chest looked too bare, you bounded over to the bedroom to retrieve your favourite necklace- a dainty silver rabbit pendant. As you fiddled with the clasp, something out of the window caught your eye- you noticed that the house usually shrouded in darkness had a glimmer of light peeking through its half-opened blinds.

Curiosity inevitably got the better of you so you grabbed your baked goods and made a beeline to the dark house, intrigued by the prospect of who its resident might be.

Clearing your throat and brushing some creases out of your skirt, you press the sooty doorbell and hope your mystery neighbour is in a sociable mood. The hopeful smile is wiped off your face when the door opens and you see the same rude man from this morning before you.

“Look at that! My very own girl scout.” He laughs incredulously and you form a face of disgust.

“It’s you.” You recoiled.

“Try saying that with less repulsion.” He retaliated, eyes flicking between your frowning face, your tits and the basket of cookies. “Coming to a man’s house and being disappointed that he lives there. That a hobby of yours?”

“N-no, I didn’t know who lived here.” You stuttered, taking in the sight before you: he must’ve just gotten out the shower as his hair was dripping wet and his shirt unbuttoned, a silver cross necklace dangling over his collarbones and positioned between his firm pecs.

“Thought you said you don’t talk to strangers, let alone turn up at their house.” He cocked his head to the side, leaning against his doorframe. “Uninvited, at that.”

“I don’t. At least not the rude ones who make comments about a girl’s underwear.” You retorted petulantly.

“Hey, that was me looking out for you. Don’t know what kind of pervs live ‘round here- they could take advantage of a girl like you. Those for me?” He points at the basket.

“I-I guess.” You go to take out one bag but he snatches the whole basket. “What do you mean a girl like me?”

“Oh you know-“ He speaks casually, mouth half full of his first helping of baked goods already. “Ditzy. Spoilt and naive.”

You huff in disbelief- you’d hardly had two conversations with the guy and he’d managed to insult you several times already.

“Don’t get offended, princess. I’m sure you’re not used to people speaking so candidly with you but welcome to the real world.” He makes a face indicating that he was impressed with your confectionary, licking the crumbs off his fingers. “This your first time living away from home?” He points his second cookie at your face before stuffing that in his mouth too.

“Uh, yeah.” You drawl, confused. What planet was this guy from?

“Alone?” He lowers his voice, staring hungrily into your eyes.

“Yeah.” You squeak, wondering why your confidence had abandoned you.

“Shouldn’t have told me that.” He sneered. “I could be a predator and you’ve just armed me with the knowledge that you have no one to protect you.” His eyes look crazed and you get the sense that he got a kick out of playing around with you.

“Well, are you?” You reply unamused and he drops the act, looking at you through squinted discerning eyes.

“Mm, no.” He sniffed. “Haven’t got the stomach for it. Great cookies, by the way. You’re quite the little baker.”

You can’t resist the smile that creeps up on your face, delighted with his approval. “I try.” You humbly gleam, teetering on your tiptoes.

“Aw, you actually look sort of pretty when you’re not scowling.” Your glowing face drops in an instant, marred by his insult.

“Sort of?”

“Yeah. Like in an endearing but bratty child kind of way.” He notices your sullen face, tensed up with disapproval and confusion. “You’re not really my type, sweetheart.”

“Y-you’re not mine either!” You spit out a little too fast.

“The only difference is I don’t care.” He snorts and you remain in stunned silence, your ego bruised beyond words. “What’s the matter? Never had a man uninterested in you? Come in, I’ll make you a consolatory coffee.”

He gestures for you to enter and you walk in cautiously, following his lead to the lounge. His house was minimalist, fitted with sleek black furniture and a surprisingly clean kitchen at the other end of the living room.

“I don’t drink coffee. And what is your type then?” You sink down onto his leather armchair and cross your arms.

“I like a more mature, developed woman.” You look down at your large round breasts. “I meant emotionally.” He adds before you can say anything.

“I’m plenty mature.” You think grumpily. You knew better than to base your self-worth on the validation of a man but goddamn it, you wanted him to like you even if you didn’t like him.

“My type is also mature men.” You countered haughtily.

“I don’t recall asking.” He pours himself a coffee and sits down opposite you, continuing to steal glances at your chest.

“I also like them wealthy.” You add, spurred on by his disaffection.

“Like your daddy?” He smirks as he takes a sip and you scowl at him.

“Oh no, not the frown again.” He falters mockingly. “If looks could kill…you know Bunny, you shouldn’t let things get to you so easily.”

“Can’t help it. I’m sensitive.” You mumble half-mindedly, preoccupied with plotting all the ways in which you could seduce him. You tried to have self-respect, you really did, but it was just so hard. Especially when you’d just been dealt such an unprecedently juicy challenge; a man who didn’t want to sleep with you? It was practically unheard of and you humbly decided you would take it upon yourself to cure him of this affliction.

Next chapter

Taglist:

@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen fanfiction #anakin skywalker #James Kelly #American heist #james Kelly fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you

[darkvioletwonderland]

HEARTSTEEL Headcanons - Display of Affection ✨

This is the first time I’m writing Headcanons for these guys so bare with me <3

Ezreal

When it comes to affection, he’s all about always letting you know you’re on his mind. His love is creative and caring.

Sliding sticky notes with doodles into your purse or wallet with affectionate words like “You’re my most precious” “The light of my life” “You’re the most colorful flower in the garden”. Most times, you’re not sure how he’s able to do so without getting caught.

He always asks to see your outfit of the day. Admiring whatever you decided to put on regardless if it made sense.

If he had a song lyric in mind, he’d ask to hop on a call with you so you could listen to him work on it.

He constantly seeks hugs from you. You cannot escape the green man from cuddling you with a loving embrace.

Kayn

He bites. Lovingly of course. Hes not super good when it comes to saying feelings outright. But his love is passionate and wild.

He hugs you from behind when you’re cooking. Only nibbling your shoulder if you don’t give him the attention he seeks.

He’s chaotic and passionate about it. His kisses always longer than a minute. Leaving you breathless every single time.

Compliments always come in the form of whispers into your ear. They can range from something casual to something that leaves you a blushing mess.

He’s definitely made you do Karaoke with him (mostly to appease Rhaast)

K’sante

His love is sweet and honest. Always making sure to say the right things to have you smile.

Every now and then, he surprises you with your favorite dessert. Because to him, you always deserve a treat.

When there’s music playing, he pulls you along to dance with him. Letting you step on his feet if you don’t quite know how to move.

He always asks for you to tell him which perfume to wear that day. Knowing you like a specific cologne on him.

During an event, he will ask what color is your outfit. So he can match with you with a suit or a tie. (He loves going out in style)

Aphelios

His love is kind and attentive. Always looking your way when you walk in the room. Noting everything about you.

Every couple of days, you wake up to poems about his love for you. Just don’t mind if they were made at 3 am.

He draws hearts along your skin with his finger whenever you two are alone.

Before a prank, he lets you in on the logistics so you can join him on the fun. You’re his partner in crime.

He’s definitely matching profile icons with you. All the time.

Sett

His love is happy and energetic. A smile is always on his face when he sees you.

Whenever he visits his mom, he always gets a batch of cookies to bring to you. Knowing you like them too.

He cracks all the bad jokes he knows to hear you laugh. (Even if Aphelios in the corner is tired of hearing the entire book of dad jokes 101)

He always picks up flowers when he’s out for a run. Not flower shop flowers, but flowers he finds along the way. Why? Because he sees them and they remind him of you. They’re pretty so what if they’re random flowers amr?

He falls asleep easily on your lap because you are that safe space for him. And he hopes you don’t let the other guys draw on his face.

Yone

His love is loyal and gentle. Being by your side is the peace he needs to deal with the band of idiots.

Whenever he makes a mix for a song, he lets you listen while he works on it in the studio.

When you two are alone, he loves hugging you close by the waist and pressing gentle kisses over your lips.

He takes care of your hair and always lets you know how you deserve all the care in the world.

His favorite sound is your heartbeat.

Bonus!

Alune

Her love is quiet but deep.

At the end of the day from dealing with the band affairs, seeing you is all she looks forward to.

Her favorite thing is cuddling with you to sleep and waking up together.

She enjoys shopping with you. (Even though she has to bring Aphelios along so he’s not always indoors)

She blows you kisses when no one is looking.

#league of legends #heartsteel #kayn #ezreal #yone #k'sante #aphelios #sett #headcanon #omg this was harder than I expected #but alas #the babies #they’re so silly I had to #headcanons #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel yone #heartsteel sett #heartsteel alune #alune

[kivino]

MORE ROOMMATE!SOAP PRETTY PLEASEEE!!!!!

ROOMMATE!SOAP HEADCANONS

my masterlist

Word counter - ~900 words

Tags/Warnings - pure fluff!

A/n - ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE ANON <33 i can't really post a complete fic rn because i'm working on another midterm essay so here y'all go! I also have another fic with Roommate!Soap planned out, so stay tuned sdkflskdfjs

You two met through his sister, you, being her college friend, visited her and her family during breaks many times, and that’s where you met Soap. You two were on pretty good terms, and he would sometimes call you when he or his family were not able to get ahold of his sister when she would go out to parties (usually accompanied by you). However, the two of you became roommates only later in the future, when he decided that he didn’t want to live with his family anymore, but leaving an apartment all empty for months on end would just be foolish. So that’s when he decided he needed someone to co-exist with, and you casually made your way into his life.

Whole Task Force 141 plus Laswell know about you, because of how homesick he gets sometimes! And you don't always respond to messages, you have your own life after all (plus, Soap knows you're not good with texting back, so he tries not to pressure you). However, unintentionally he starts to remember or mention you in unrelated conversations. And that's how everyone around him knows that it's time for him to go on his leave.

Not a lot of people are allowed to call him Johnny. He still gives his older sisters shit for calling him that sometimes. You and Ghost, however, are both allowed to do it. Not like his discontent would’ve stopped you though.

More often than not talks about you in a way that makes it appear like the two of you are together, with how he’s all smiles during these conversations. Describes you like he’s an infatuated teenager and then gets confused when someone assumes Soap is talking about his significant other. It's not that he is oblivious to his feelings, or a dumbass, of course not, it's that his feelings lasted for so long that it's very much normal to him and he doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary with it.

The love language that you both share is bullying and insulting each other relentlessly. Soap is less harsh with his words, but you’re just merciless. Sometimes it also grows into play fights and roughhousing between you. Soap tries to be careful, because he knows that he’s stronger (he’s in the military, duh), but he still won’t go down without a fight. So he goes easy on you.

We know that Soap has a whole sketchbook, filled to the brim with many drawings of various quality, his thoughts, and different garbage he picks up when he has the opportunity. A pretty leaf? Snatch. A random receipt from when you got groceries with him together? Snatch. A note you scribbled for him to finally wash his damn dishes? Sad snatch. When he's on leave he takes the opportunity to sketch you as much as possible, so he remembers every single detail of your face, the expressions you make, or the way you position your body. Soap does it to be able to replicate it when you’re not around him. He has millions of sketches where you’re napping on the couch.

When he’s absentmindedly doodling something during the briefings and meetings he draws small figures that resemble Task Force and you. One time he bought some colored pens so he’s not bored out of his mind on base, and the assigned color to draw you was blue, while he drew himself with a red pen. Gaz got green and Ghost he draws using a black pen, both Laswell and Price share the fact that Johnny draws them with a pencil.

One of the small traditions that you have when he’s on leave, is cooking something for each other while some show you’re not paying attention to plays in the background. The kitchen in the apartment is pretty modest, so two people cooking and moving around at the same time is a bit too much for such a small amount of space. When you get too into the process of mixing or cutting something and Soap needs to squeeze past you, he gently puts a hand on your lower back and you instantly know what he wants, because of how much he does it. It’s never arrogant or invasive, instead, it’s gentle and a bit playful.

Johnny’s very sociable and likes going out to drink frequently. You, however, prefer to not get involved in his escapades as often, so you stay home, instead telling him to call whenever he needs you to pick him up. On multiple separate occasions, when he came back home a bit tipsy, he would stumble into your room and fall on your bed, getting knocked out almost in a second. Soap’s snoring is pretty loud when he’s drunk or has a stuffy nose. Plus, he’s as heavy as a damn rock and you can’t move him because of it, so instead you sleep on the couch, sacrificing the health of your back for Soap’s sweet dreams.

Johnny is pretty good with his hands. If anything broken needs fixing, or anything heavy needs lifting he’s always happy to help. He’s also a decent cook, so if you’re not feeling like cooking dinner after you’re back home from work he’s ready to throw something together for you no problem. Partially because he knows that you’d do the same for him if he asked. And, well, he just cares about you. He’s ready to cook dinner for you for the next decade if it means you’ll feel better.

Your texts with him are filled to the brim with stupid videos and photos you send each other. If Johnny sees something that reminds him of you, what you like, or some random inside joke – you best believe he’s already snapping a photo and sending it to you.

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request/comment!

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #john soap mactavish x gn!reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #cod soap #mw2 soap #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap call of duty #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw fanfiction #mw2 2022 #mw2022

[sweetsweetjellybean]

A crush that was better off a secret and a kiss that should never have happened.

Masterlist WC: 12399

TW: 2012 AU, Older!Eddie, Older!Steve, Femreader, Second Chance Romance (not a slow burn), Love Triangle, Smut, 18+ No minors beta'd by @superblysubpar

A sharp chill nips at your cheeks as gusts of autumn wind blow through the amber-leafed trees that surround  Hawkins High's parking lot. You pick at the splintered wood of the picnic table beneath you, etched with initials and scribbles. The anguished croon of Placebo plays through your headphones, drowning out the sounds of the start of another school day. Shifting the pile of books on your lap, you steal a glance at where Eddie stands with his back to you a few yards away. Lately, it’s like your best friend has purchased real estate in your brain. Daydreams resulting in hearts doodled in the margins of your notebooks a little too close to where you printed his name. His dark curls spill over the collar of his worn denim vest, shadowing the frayed edges of the Dio patch he had sown on last week. He's deep in conversation with Dan Shelter, a senior in the same class that Eddie would have been in if he hadn’t missed so much time after his mother passed. They both turn and look at you at the same time.

Eddie’s eyes narrow as his brows pull tighter into a frown. You push one of your headphones back, and the noise of everyday chatter and car engines bursts into your reality like a bubble popping. 

"You know your girlfriend is deeply weird, Munson," the spiky-haired jock says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket, not even trying to hide his distaste.

Girlfriend? You’ve both tried to stamp out that rumor—yet no matter who else you go out with, those sparks never last and pale in comparison to the steady flame you feel around Eddie. Would it really be so bad if it were true? But your answer scares you more than you expect. 

"She’s not my girl," Eddie retorts with a swift shake of his head, his voice edged with that familiar bite of annoyance. His foot scuffs against the asphalt, the white Reebok stark against the black of his jeans that cling to his narrow hips. With a sigh of impatience escaping him, the fabric of his Hellfire Club t-shirt pulls tighter across his chest, outlining his lean frame underneath. 

"You in or out?" He snaps his fingers near Dan's face, the sunlight catching on the silver rings that adorn his fingers, "I've got other places to be, and you're not my only customer."

"Sure, whatever," Dan grumbles, extending his hand with a few crumpled bills.

Eddie accepts the cash with an easy smirk and a casual flick of his fingers. He teases the dime bag between thumb and forefinger, letting it sway like a pendulum for a heartbeat. Dan’s hand hovers, eyes darting for prying eyes, but before he can grasp it, Eddie lets the bag drop to the ground. 

"Oops," Eddie says, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. He pivots on his heel, walking away without a backward glance.

Dan’s face ignites with anger as he stoops for the bag, muttering curses under his breath.

"Always a pleasure," Eddie calls over his shoulder as he turns to join you, flashing a dismissive two-fingered salute. A gaggle of giggling girls from the sophomore class crosses his path, eyes trailing over him like he's their favorite song come to life.  

"Ladies." He casually extends an arm, waving them past, his voice a smooth melody that never fails to draw attention. They flutter past with whispers and longing glances. Despite their whispers of 'freak' in the corridors, they all seem to vie for a chance to climb into the back of his van, to be the subject of rumors they'd later deny.

He never hides his interest when he likes a girl — everybody knows when Eddie Munson is into someone. But he’s never looked at you that way, never given you that smile meant for those he desires. And that’s something that has never bothered you. Now, it stirs something else — a green thorny vine wrapping around your insides. He’s just Eddie–your friend, the same old Eddie, even as your heart whispers lies of a different tune.

Without missing a beat, he saunters over, the rhythmic clink of his chain wallet punctuating each step. He leaps onto the picnic table, landing beside you with a thud that sends vibrations through the timeworn wood, eyes lingering on the girls retreating forms.

"You need to be careful, Eddie," you warn, your eyes following as Dan stalks off, his annoyance like a dark cloud.

"Careful is my middle name, doll." He smiles a big, sly grin, dimples deepening, that causes a flutter in your chest, an unexplained sensation that's become strangely frequent these days.

He nods at your leg."What’s this?" His eyes drop to your thigh, dark lashes making a half-moon shadow on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the square field of bright white crosses over the darker denim patch on your jeans, and a trail of tingles follows, unbidden and unwelcome. You disguise the shiver as a chill from the wind, even as you yearn to lean into his touch.

"It’s called sashiko," you explain, strangely aware of the warmth of his skin, the ghost of his touch lingering with an unfamiliar tingle. "The art of visible mending." 

"Looks cool," he says, his gaze meeting yours, a little too intense, a little too long. Your fingers clutch your notebooks tighter, a shield against whatever this feeling is.

"Are you coming over after school?" Your voice is steadier than you feel.

"I’ll drop you off, but I’ve got to go back to the trailer after," Eddie replies, his eyes still holding yours, a silent conversation you can't quite interpret. "I’ve got stuff to do," he adds, and something in his tone suggests layers you're not ready to peel back, "Not your kind of stuff."

The house where Eddie grew up doesn't even look the same anymore. Someone else has moved in, always keeping the lawn perfect, and all the broken things have been fixed up. Erasing any traces of tragedy. The neighborhood has moved on as well, absolving themselves. Like they hadn’t just turned their back and let it happen as if it wasn't their problem. Eddie's staying on the other side of town now with his Uncle Wayne in a tiny one-bedroom trailer. Wayne's heart is in the right place, even if he drinks too much, just like Eddie's dad did. But he's not bad, just... lost when it comes to dealing with an angry teen, and with him working nights, Eddie's on his own to figure out how to deal with it all. 

"I can keep you company," you offer, the words casual but your heart isn't in it. You can't help the way your gaze lingers on him, hopeful despite yourself.

He shakes his head, a shadow crossing his features. "Nah, I’ve got to stop at Rick's, then a run," he says, and there's a hardness in his eyes that wasn't there before.

You frown, frustration knitting your brows. "I don’t see what the big deal is," you argue, your voice lower, "We smoke together all the time."

"The big deal," he says, reaching out to lift your chin, forcing you to look at him, "Is that this is business, and I don’t want you involved. Alright?" His voice is firm, letting you know he won’t budge. "I’ll pick you up later," he promises, "Movie night, just us."

The shrill ring of the bell is your cue to retreat, to put distance between you and these feelings that are threatening to upend everything. You nod at him, shoving your books into your bag. His gaze holds onto you for a heavy beat before breaking away, stirring a current of unease within you. There's a shift in the air, a prelude to something you can't name, like the static before a storm leaving a trail of goosebumps on your arms and a warmth low in your belly as you part ways at the door. Eddie's last glance sears itself into your thoughts. 

As you make your way to class, the feeling clings, like an overplayed song on the radio — a sense that the simplicity of life is about to fracture. The ache is new and confusing. You hug your arms, trying to squeeze out the gnawing, persistent sting that seems to spread through your limbs. It's a tangible pain, this longing, like a hand squeezing around your heart, making it hard to breathe.

But you push it all down, resolving to guard your secret, to lock it away in the confines of your ribcage, where it can't taint the one thing you value most. The friendship you've built is too important, too rare to risk on a silly crush that might only live in your head–one that might fade with time. It’s a gamble you won’t take. You can't lose him. You won’t watch that light in his eyes dim for you, awkward silences replacing the laughter. Without him, you’d be alone.

It's safer this way–safer for your heart, for his, and for the delicate balance you've maintained for so long. The stakes are too high. You’ll keep your cards close to your chest. It’s a dangerous game you're playing, one you’re determined to win.

Cold grey days have been giving way to dark, inky nights. The stars and moon veiled behind thick cotton clouds, stealing the light earlier each day. Winds gust, sending wet leaves sticking to the glass of your office windows as the bare fingers of the boxwoods planted around the brownstone scratch against the house in protest.

Lowering the lid of your laptop, the light in the room dims as the brightness is trapped between the two halves. Your arms stretch over your head, loosening the tension trapped in your neck as you push away from your desk, drifting towards the sounds of life coming from the living room. Steve’s long legs are stretched out on the chaise end of the couch, a Bulls game on the TV, but his attention is stuck on the laptop resting on his thighs. 

“My eyes are going to fall out my head if I stare at that screen for any longer,” you declare, rounding the corner of the couch.

“Well, then, come stare at this screen instead.” His arm extends, making space for you to crawl onto the couch next to him and fit yourself into his side. 

“You’re so warm,” you comment, your cheeks nuzzling into his chest as his lips find the top of your head. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time for bed. I still have a few hours of work left,” he sighs as his finger slides down the trackpad, scrolling through a document that seems to never end. 

“Is that for the launch?” Your eyes squint in protest at the brightness of his screen. 

He groans at the ping of another incoming email while he toggles between the many windows he has open. “Yeah, we're in the final stretch. The event team is trying to finalize the details. Maroon 5 and Fallout Boy are locked in to perform, but we’re still waiting to hear back from a few other acts and about a million other details that need ironing out.”

“It’s going to be a great night, baby. Everyone is going to be so impressed,” you assure, the arm you have draped across his stomach tightening, trying to impress your words into him. “Everything is going to go smoothly, you’ll see.”

He scoffs, doubt clouding his voice. “I wish I had your confidence. The server's capacity is still a question mark, and we're racing to fix streaming delays. Fuck!” The heels of his hands press into his eyes. “All I need is this thing to fail at the last minute, especially with Richard and my dad watching.” He imitates his father's stern tone, “Typical. He’s always been a fuck up. Chokes right before the buzzer.” Letting his hands drop, his vulnerable eyes turn to you. “I should have listened to you and not invited my parents. I actually never thought they would agree to come. Now I’m running around trying to get things ready for them too.”

“Hey,” you coax, tilting your head to lock eyes with him and taking one of his hands between yours, your heart aching with the tension you know he’s carrying. “That’s not going to happen, Steve. If the servers have issues or if there's a lag, it's just a hiccup. You've got a team to handle that. You've put in the work, and you're brilliant at what you do. Your parents will see that. Everyone will.” 

He manages a smile, but it’s just a placation.

“What can I do to help?” You ask, “I’ll make sure we have some Pellegrino stocked and that cheese your parents like.”

There's a pause as he weighs his next words.  “I’ve already called the housekeeper and let them know to put fresh sheets in the guest room in case they decide to stay here, but I still need to make a reservation at the Four Seasons as a backup.”

Your jaw tightens, but you curb your annoyance at how John Harrington has everyone trained to cater to his high-maintenance whims, but this is for Steve’s peace of mind. “I’ll call first thing tomorrow. Consider it done. Anything else?”

He hesitates, a little apologetic. "My suit... the dry cleaner closes early tomorrow. I hate to ask, but I might not make it in time–"

“No problem. I’ll make time.”

His lips lift at the corners, and this time, his smile reaches his eyes. “I love you.” He lends forward, slotting his lip softly in between yours. “I’ll put the ticket in your bag. Thank you for helping, Ace.”

“It's just Eddie's interview for me tomorrow afternoon. I should have plenty of time." Standing, you give his hand an encouraging tug. "Now, can we go to bed? Everything will look better after a good night's sleep.”

His mouth sets in a determined line as he shuts down his laptop, yielding to your pull as he rises. His hand finds a comforting place on the small of your back, grounding you both as you climb the stairs together. 

Hitching the strap of your messenger bag higher on your shoulder, you kick at a loose stone on the sidewalk in front of the brick building. Car horns blare in the distance as traffic rolls by in the busy neighborhood.  The sun casts a glint off the steel CursedSound sign, its metal already weathering with a faint tinge of color. The heavy door is yanked open, its clank and whine making you jump even though the sound is expected. 

"Hi," Eddie greets you from the other side of the threshold, the softness of his tone mirroring the gentleness in his eyes.

"Hi," you return, shyness adding a tremble to your voice that shouldn’t be there. His fingers grip the edge of the door, and light flashes off the Rolex peeking out from under the cuff of the plaid flannel he wears over a fitted v-neck and jeans, the fabric snug against his defined shoulders. It’s still a novelty to see how his slim build has filled in over the years, still expecting the boy you knew instead of this man in front of you. He looks you over the same way he did last time like he’s trying to decide if you’re really there. Maybe it’s the differences he sees in you, too, or does he look beyond the scars to the lonely girl he once knew? You shift your gaze away, down the street, your toes curling inside your Converse as a flush of warmth climbs up your neck. "Are you going to let me in?"

"I don't know." He pretends to ponder, a smile forming, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Where's your hard hat?"

Tilting your head to the side, you purse your lips until he breaks into a chuckle. He swings the door open wider to welcome you inside. You pass him with a shake of your head and continue down the dimly lit hall, now familiar with the layout. 

The lobby is in utter chaos.

"Sorry for the mess. The maid took the week off," he quips as he watches you take in the sight before you. 

The brown paper has been removed from the windows, allowing bright light to stream through the streaked and dirty glass. All the furniture has been pushed toward the center of the room, and ladders and paint cans litter the floor space. A large mural wrapping around the windows and front entrance has been outlined but not completed. In the same graffiti style as the one upstairs, this one displays more cityscapes with waves of the lake breaking at the forefront. Winged skulls and guitars blend with colorful swirls of clouds rising toward the ceiling. The colors brighten the deep tones of the space, capturing the essence of the city and the spirit of CursedSound.

"It’s perfect," you tell him as your eyes follow the sweeping, colorful lines around the room.

"Was that a compliment?" He asks, coming up behind you. "I thought it was a dump."

His breath, a warm whisper against your ear, spins you around. "Well, what can I say? It’s growing on me." Your fingers move to your lips, concealing your smile as his deepens. 

"You look really good." His low voice bounces off the empty walls, "I mean…your, uh, outfit is nice." He waves his hand toward you before wiping it on the front of his jeans. 

Your brows raise as you glance down at the jeans and plain tee with Lollapalooza written across the front. None of the trendy fashions you usually wore to interviews seemed to fit right today. Causing you to tug at necklines and fidget with the hems of three different outfits before settling on something casual. There’s nothing to hide behind – the armor is off. It’s time to hear him out. 

"Wow, that was smooth," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I don’t know why I’m feeling nervous."

The fluttering in your stomach matches his energy. The shield of anger you’ve held between you is battered and worn thin, leaving uncertainty behind. 

"It’s because I’m going to get you to spill all your secrets and print them so the whole world can sit in judgment."

 A choked sound comes from his throat as his eyes widen into saucers.

Unable to keep a straight face, you giggle. "Relax, Eddie. I already told you I’m not writing some hit piece. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Besides," you shrug, "It’s only me." 

A sharp breath escapes as his shoulders lower. "Yeah, you’re right," he takes a step forward, his gaze locking with yours, "After all these years, it's you.

"Eddie." His name comes out with an almost breathless sigh as you look away. He takes another step forward, and you clear your throat before prompting. "Why don’t you show me what else you’ve done?"

He takes a step back, raking a hand through his curls, "Of course." His lips tighten into a flat line as he gestures toward the stairs. "After you." 

You lead the way to the second floor, where the smell of fresh paint permeates the air. A ladder leans against a half-painted wall, and orange extension cords crisscross the carpet in the hall, winding into the studios as if the work had been suddenly halted.

"Where is everyone?" You ask as you step inside Studio A. It's come a long way since your last visit. The deck to hold the mixing board has been completed, the glass installed, and the wiring is underway.

"I didn’t know how long you’d be here, so I told them to take the rest of the day off." His eyes follow the movements of your hand as it brushes over knobs and sliders of the soundboard, still sheathed in a protective layer of plastic. 

"You didn’t have to do that," you say, walking back out into the hall. 

"I didn’t think we needed the audience," he shrugs, walking along with you to the next room.

"I hope it doesn’t make you fall behind schedule." The walls of the small Studio B are covered with walnut slats to create an acoustic barrier while still keeping the room open, while the mixing room kept the original exposed brick.

"I’ve got time."

"Even so," you say, moving toward the window. The sun glints off the mirrored windows of the tall, sleek building across the street. "I’m sure you're eager to open. Put out that first album with the CursedSound logo in the liner notes."

"I am." He comes to stand beside you, his gaze taking in the bustle of the city at midday. "It’s gonna be good to have nothin’ between me and the music. Let the artists be as creative as they want. Their management can deal with the corporate A&R people and leave me out of it."

"You never did like playing by the rules," you smile, catching his eyes in the reflection of the glass.

He turns his head, studying your profile. "Why should I?" he continues, his tone more determined,"The rules sure as hell never helped me. I'm gonna take my chances as I find them. Even if I play a little dirty. I deserve happiness the same as the next guy."

"Of course you do." The world has done nothing but take from him. His mother. His childhood. The opportunities that came so easily to everyone else. 

"What about you?" He asks as you return to the hall, "The rules seemed to have treated you well."

You raise your shoulders while a warm smile graces your lips, one you have no intention of concealing. "I love my job. I like the city, and…I have Steve."

"You ending up with Steve Harrington," his voice curls around the name, a sneer you can almost see, "I gotta admit, I didn't see that one coming."

Stopping, you pivot to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. "He's a good guy, Eddie."

He expels a sigh in a short, almost defeated breath, shaking his head. "I know he is, doll."

The unmarked door at the end of the hall provides a convenient diversion. "Where does this go?" You wonder out loud as your hand closes over the knob. 

"My apartment."

"You're living here?" You release the doorknob as if it was hot.

"Sure. Can't beat the commute." He reaches around you, turning the doorknob to reveal another flight of stairs. "Do you want to go up?"

A tightness grips your chest as you attempt to step back, momentarily forgetting that he's right behind you. He supports you with a steadying hand on your hip as he moves to face you, seeking your reaction.

"No, that's okay. I think we're fine down here. We wouldn't want to disturb Skyler," you say, attempting to sound confident as you wipe your palms along the sides of your jeans.

Eddie reaches up and scratches the side of his head as his forehead wrinkles. "Who?" 

A hot breath passes your lips as you turn away, walking back down the hall toward Studio C. "You know," you call over your shoulder, too chicken to face him. "Skyler Simmons. Rock royalty. Media darling. Your long-time girlfriend. The one you own a house with. Ring any bells? Isn’t she here with you?"

"My what? Skyler Simmons?" The deep belly laugh that follows has you spinning on your heels to face him.

"Wait. You’re serious?" His dimples make an appearance as his smile deepens. "Me and Skyler?" He can barely get her name out without chuckling. 

"The one you’re photographed with constantly."

His brows shoot up. "Keeping tabs on me?"

"Oh, don’t flatter yourself," you huff, "It came up in my research. Do you have a relationship with her or not?"

"I know her," he offers, shaking his head, "She’s a friend. We go to the same group." 

"What group? The one for annoying assholes." 

He pauses, his arms crossing over his chest. "The one for people with family members who are addicts. That okay with you?" His voice escalates. The simmering anger in his eyes mirrors the intensity of his tone. "Skyler is gay. Her girlfriend's usually hanging around, too. Does that mean I’m fucking her too? Jesus."

A splash of frigid water clashes with your hot blood as the fight drains away. Flashes of that day are more vivid than they should be for memories two years old. The carpet of your closet is soft under your fingers as wet splashes of tears rain down on the glossy pages, Steve's voice getting closer as he calls out your name. Glancing down at your feet, your voice diminishes, barely more than a whisper. "Why hasn't she come out in the media?"

"Maybe because it’s none of anybody's fucking business." His piercing gaze bores into you as the sharp words land like heavy stones in the sour pit in your stomach. "Hold on," he waves a hand in front of you, "Why do you even care?"

"I don’t," your voice falters as the dishonest answer leaves you without hesitation, and your eyes trace the patterns on the floor, "It just makes for a better story, is all." 

His hands run through his hair, fingers tugging on the ends as his tone softens. "Doll," he pauses, taking a deliberate step closer. His warm fingers cup your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. Those amber swirls, always seeing beyond your surface. "No one else is in my apartment, and no one else is gonna be."

His touch sends a searing heat spreading through your skin as the weight of your engagement ring pulls on your finger. "You’re a grown man, Eddie. Do whatever you want." Stepping back, his hand falls from your face as you turn and enter the studio.

"Fucking stubborn," the low murmur carries under his breath as he follows you inside.

Signs of careful refinement have touched every corner of this studio. Gray triangles of acoustic foam now completely adorn the walls of the live room in contrasting patterns, adding both practical functionality and visual interest. The mixing room's mural stands as a completed masterpiece, and a deep-seated leather sofa, designed to look comfortably aged, takes its place in front.

"It looks like this one’s almost finished." The strap of your bag slides down your shoulder as you sink down onto the couch, taking in the details that have been added since your last visit. 

His eyes move around the room, the pride evident on his face that his vision has become a reality. "Just some wiring and the vocal booth, and I’ll be ready to start setting the levels."

"This one’s your favorite, I can tell," you say, shifting to tuck a leg under you as he joins you on the couch. 

"Shhh," he hushes you, raising a finger to his lips, a playful glint in his eyes. "The others will get jealous."

With an eye roll, you reach into your bag, your smile never fading as you retrieve your phone and open the recording app with a deft touch, placing it between the two of you.

"How does this work?" Eddie inquires, his eyes fixed on your phone, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, typically," your hand slips back into your bag to retrieve the neatly stapled pages of your notes, "I ask a question, and you provide the answer." As you set the pages on your lap, your gaze lifts to meet his, a small, reassuring smile on your lips. The faint strains of songs from the past echo behind the locked door in front of you – one that might be best left closed and forgotten. But he’s in front of you, handing you the key. You draw in a steadying breath, your chest rising and falling with it. "Eddie Munson interview, part one."

"Mr. Munson." You exchange warm smiles, like kids pretending to be grownups. "Thank you for granting us an interview during this busy time. All of us at Stax are very excited to welcome CursedSound to Chicago."

He leans forward, his voice dropping slightly in timber as a much smoother, older Eddie begins to answer, "Thank you. I always have time for my favorite magazine." He winks.

Your lips press into a line as you tilt your head to the side and take a quick glance at your packet. "In April 2003, Fever to Tell was released by a relatively new band and a completely unknown sound engineer. It went on to sell over a million copies, putting The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and the name Eddie Munson on industry minds. Fever to Tell is still, to date, one of my favorite albums. Were you aware of the significant impact this record would have when you were working on it?"

"At the time, we were really just hopeful, you know? We believed in the music we were creating. Karen and Nick, and Brian flew out from New York with their last dime, and we just got to work. Karen had this raw, untamed energy, and I wanted that to add the edge to the album. It was this post-punk dance-floor-friendly racket that injected a much-needed dose of authenticity into a musical landscape that was getting stagnant."

"It's not an exaggeration to say that record helped shape the direction of indie and alternative rock for years to come. But what I want to ask is you before all that. What was the road like moving from Hawkins to having your dreams come true in LA? Was this the path you first set out on, or were there curves in the road?"

"I think 'curves' is a generous term for the absolute shit choices I was making for myself back then," he chuckles. "As you know, I left Hawkins about a year after I graduated. That town had already decided I would never be anything more than a freak– a loser with no future. If I had stayed, that's exactly what would have happened. I was trying to outrun my past without a clue what I wanted for my future. I had my own band back then, and sometimes, we’d open for slightly bigger bands that rolled through town. One of them was about to tour and invited me to go as their one and only roadie, and it felt like a free ticket out."

"Bananafish," you interject, swallowing and glancing down at your notes.

"Yeah, Bananafish. God, they sucked. Did you know they started as a Spin Doctors tribute band?"

"No," you laugh, "And that wasn’t a red flag for you?"

"It should have been. I wasn’t with them for long anyway. I think I lasted for three weeks before they cut me loose for getting in a fight with the drummer." He pauses, shaking his head. "I never knew when to shut my mouth. At that point, they had hooked up with another band called Everly. Slightly better, but not by much. I managed to hold it together for a few months. I was high or drunk most of the time, the only reason they kept me around is because they liked the way I babied their instruments instead of hauling them like luggage."

"I remember you’d spend half an hour polishing that Warlock every day after school," you muse.

"Got to treat a lady right if you want her to sing for you," he says with a sly rise and fall of his brows. He casually drapes an arm over the back of the couch, shrinking the space between you.

"I was surprised that you left it behind." 

Eddie's expression turns more solemn, his eyes locking onto yours. "There were a lot of things I wished I could’ve taken with me. But back then, I couldn’t even take care of myself."

"I don’t believe that," you swallow, the words sticking in your throat, "You could have tried."

"If I had tried, they would’ve ended up broken, and I’d‘ve lost them anyway." His long fingers brush your shoulder, and you flinch. The leather creaks as you sit back against the arm of the couch, just out of reach. 

"Back to Everly. Why did you part ways?" 

"Oh, well, I fucked it up, of course. They had landed a spot at Bonnaroo, and I got so fucked up the night before I missed sound check. When I managed to pick myself up off the floor of the van, they handed me my duffel and a twenty and told me to pound sand." His eyes drift away, fixating on a point across the room as he gets lost, reliving the memory. "I had barely been outside of Indiana, and there I was stuck on some farm in Manchester, Tennessee with no transportation, no money, and no one to call. I was angry at the world and never felt more alone. People always talk about hitting rock bottom. I thought that was mine, but now that I look back, it was more of a crossroads. If I had followed that darker path, there would have been no coming back. I was wandering around backstage where they park buses, hungover, maybe still half in the bag, and that’s when I met Max."

"Max Navarro?" You question, shuffling through the pages of your notes.

"Yeah. You know him?" Eddie’s eyes brighten as his gaze drops to the pages in your lap.

Your head turns from side to side. "You referred to him as a mentor in the Stones interview, but I couldn’t find much on him besides his name being listed as an audio engineer for several tours."

"That’s Max." Eddie breaks into a smile. "He’d tell you he likes flying under the radar. He was hanging out in front of the bus playing guitar with a couple of guys when I walked over like a cocky shit, picked one up, and started playing. He gave me something to smoke and it wasn’t weed. All I know is that I woke up face-down in the dirt the next morning. I don’t know if he liked me or just felt bad for me, but he dragged me on the bus and had me start assisting him with the sound for Faith No More."

"Faith No More? Are you kidding me?" Your hands fall to your lap, slapping against your thighs, jostling the cushion enough for your phone to slide toward the back of the couch. "You had their poster in your room. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you had a charmed life."

"Well, even the sun shines on a dog's ass some days," he laughs.

"So Max is who taught you about engineering?" 

"Max is who taught me about everything." His voice holds a reverence when he says his name.  "He kept a close eye on me. Showed me how to work the boards.  He said he could see the shadows following me around, so when we got to LA, he took me out to the desert, fed me some tea, and exercised my demons."

"Did it work?" Max wasn't the only one to see the looming shadows. Remnants of decisions made by others. Expectations of a community that turned its back. They clung to him like an impenetrable fog, obscuring the light in the world. 

"I’m not sure. I felt lighter after, but it could have been the gallon of sweat," he says, a chuckle escaping his lips.  "After that, he cashed in a favor and got me an internship with a small studio in Laurel Canyon. I parked cars at night and lived in a room the size of a closet at Max’s house. I worked my ass off. I went to therapy–" 

"How very L.A. of you," you chime in, a wry grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"Don’t knock it until you try it." He looks at you from under raised brows. "It’s, uh, good to be open, you know?" 

"No thanks. I tried that once." You look at him pointedly, the tightness in your chest returning, "It didn’t work out for me."

The thinly veiled jabs you’ve been sending his way were hitting the target. Something like pain or regret flashes in his eyes. "Doll–" 

"You decided to stay in L.A. and work at a studio instead of going back out on the road?"

"I like studio sessions. Makes me feel like I’m working towards something. I like completing an album and putting it out in the world. Some people thrive being out on tour, like Max. Not me," he scratches at the short hair covering his chin. "Too many ghosts on those old roads." 

Like the haunting echoes back in Hawkins, the ones that jolt you awake in the dead of night, murmuring of the past, the shame emphasizing the pitiable acts of a girl lovesick and foolish. Robin had seen it, and so did the entire town. Yet, you're no longer that vulnerable soul. She lies in solitude now, resting beneath the frigid earth, her memory an unmarked grave. You've moved forward, and you’ll never go back, the city's symphony drowning out the remains of her cries.

"So you stayed and built your life there," you conclude, your fingers flipping through the pages of your notes, making sure every point from your outline has been covered.

Eddie leans back, a contemplative look on his face. "I guess you could say that. I got my own place, made some great friends. Sundays are for Max's family and chile relleno. The weather is always beautiful," he shrugs, his voice carrying a hint of noncommitment, "But I really stayed for the music. Have you been? I could take you some time. Show you around. Max would love to meet you, the girl I’m always talking about. I think you’d like it there."

The girl he’s always talking about but hasn’t bothered to call in a decade. "To Los Angeles?" You ask, your gaze rising from your notes to meet his nodding response. "I've been a few times. With Steve, mostly for work."

"Oh yeah. Makes sense." Eddie's jaw tightens, and he averts his gaze, his reaction a puzzle. "Well, I guess the rest is history. Is that enough for your story?"

"Yeah." You reach for your phone, tapping the red square to stop the recording. "It will be a great opening piece for the series." You pick up your messenger, hauling its weight into your lap, tucking your notes inside. The afternoon is ending like a song without a crescendo. A stone of disappointment sits on your tongue, holding back questions that you lacked the courage to ask, but maybe it’s better this way.

Eddie sits up suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Speaking of history, I want to show you something." He stands up, looking towards the door and back at you, "Um.. wait here, okay? I’ll just be a minute." 

"Okay-"

He holds up flat palms. "Don’t go anywhere." His eyes close as he winces, " I mean, you can wander around if you want. Just don’t leave."

"Eddie-" 

"I’ll be back." He holds up one finger as he exits the room. 

Sighing, you push up from your thighs, rising to your feet. Your steps carry you through to the live room, where the area rug underfoot is a clever imitation of age — its colors muted, its pattern artfully faded, though there's no doubt it's brand new. Your nails lightly tap the high hat as you pass the drum kit, and you smile at the shimmering sound that reverberates through the room, giving you the same pleasure as the sound of glass breaking. 

With a heavy drape in hand, you pull it aside and peer down onto the busy street below. The dim clamor of the city filters into the room, a steady rhythm of life. A question escapes your lips, almost a whisper, as you survey the world beyond the studio's walls, "What am I doing?"

The thought lingers as you spin the band of gold on your finger as your eyes trace the movements of the people and vehicles outside. You're caught in a moment, anxiety a lump in your throat you can’t seem to swallow. The street's hustle and bustle continues, indifferent. 

The sound of the floor creaking with footsteps echoes through the hall. He enters the room with the large box he's carrying obscuring his upper half. You recognize Wayne's shaky handwriting peeking out from behind Eddie's fingers, his name written boldly with a black marker.

"What's all this?" You ask as he sets down the box with a heave in the center of the room and sinks to his knees, hovering over the taped flaps.

"I have no idea," he says with a mischievous smile. "Wayne gave it to me when I stopped by last week and told him I was going to see you. But you know him. He never throws stuff out. It could be anything." His hand smoothes over the top as he raises a brow. "Wanna find out?"

Your hands slide over the denim covering your thighs before your feet carry you forward. "Mrs. Click better not be in there." 

His head tips back with laughter. "I make no promises," he jokes while you shift from behind the glass wall, taking a seat on the floor. Your legs cross casually as you face him from the opposite side of the box. One side of his mouth lifts as he waits for you to settle in. In a graceful stretch, he leans to the side, retrieving a box cutter from atop the soundboard, where it sits next to a pile of plastic straps. His shirt rises, revealing a teasing glimpse of hair trailing down his belly and the sculpted muscle beside his hips. His tongue lightly grazes his upper lip as he expertly flicks the knife open, his jeans snug on the contours of his strong thighs. Exhaling slowly, you avert your eyes, scanning the room instead as you wait for him to slice the tape. 

"Score!" He yells, pulling out the ragged-edged sheet that was folded and tucked into the top of the box. "Corroded Coffin," he reads aloud from the crude writing, scrawled across it with something resembling shoe polish.

"Oh no," you laugh, your head turning side to side as you rock in your seat. 

"Hey. This is rare band memorabilia. It’s probably worth money," he defends, holding it up proudly. 

"Yeah, to the guy you have to pay to haul it away," you giggle.

"Alright, Alright," he concedes, folding it up, the smile never leaving his face as he reaches in the box. "These are yours." He pulls out a stack of comics, handing them to you.

"Still in good shape," you comment, thumbing through Tank Girl and Witchblade comics. Opening one of your favorites, the art greets you like an old friend.

"My campaigns!" Eddie exclaims, pulling out a pile of notebooks and setting them aside before reaching back in. "Some Cds." He comes out with a hand wrapped around a stack of jewel cases, the one on top catching your eye. 

"My Cranberries Cd!" You cry, your fingers digging into the plush carpet as you tip forward onto your knees, taking it from his hand. "I looked for this everywhere. I knew you took it, you thief."

"I don’t know how that got there," he chuckles, scratching his head, "You must have left in the van."

"Nice try, Munson." your eyes narrow, "I checked there." You lean over the box, poking a finger into his chest, "I knew you had a crush on Dolores."

"It was the accent," he admits with a grin, his dimples on full display as his hand closes around your finger, warding off your attack. 

"I’m keeping it," you declare, dropping back into your seat and picking up the case to examine the inside.

"Holy shit."

You raise your head to meet his wide chocolate eyes, a look of sheer delight written across his face. "Close your eyes," he instructs, as he pulls back the flaps of the box, hiding whatever he's found.

"Mrs. Click?" You set the CD on top of the comics.

"Better," he says excitedly, waving a hand toward your face. "Close your eyes."

"Fine." You close one eye, folding your hands in your lap.

"No peeking," he scolds. Your lips purse as you close your other lid, waiting for the big reveal — plastic clanks against something heavy, followed by the rustle of cardboard.

"Okay. Open."

"Daisy!" Yyou squeal, your hands flying to your mouth before you reach out with wiggling fingers.

He winces as he hands over the two-foot concrete garden gnome. "How can you call something so ugly a pretty name like that?"

Taking the heavy lawn ornament in both hands, you gaze down at the way her hat droops over ears too large for her head, which stick straight out beside her bulging eyes and porcine, turned-up nose. Her rubbery lips are pulled back in a smile, showing off her crooked buck teeth and the yellow and white flowered dress that barely conceals her lumpy body. 

"She's beautiful," you tut, cradling the statue in your arms. "Besides, you're the one who stole her."

"You’re the one who dared me to," he scoffs. 

"I didn’t think you were going to wake up the whole neighborhood crashing into the bushes in Mr. Lawson’s yard." Heat takes over your cheeks as you smile unrestrained.

"I was drunk," he defends, his face turning red.

"You tripped over your feet, and your pants pocket ripped off on that branch," you gasp for air, trying to get the words out with your laughter, "You had on those Garfield boxers with the hearts."

"Of course, you remember that." His laughter joins yours, easy and familiar, while his fingers find their way into his curls. "You're the one that woke up the neighbors, making the van backfire."

"It was the first time I drove, and I didn’t have a license." You clutch Daisy tightly to your chest as you try to catch your breath. "Mr. Larson said he was going to shoot you in the ass."

Eddie wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. "He almost caught us when you stalled out. All for that hideous thing."

"Shh," you say, covering her ears with your hands. "You can’t get rid of her."

"Never," he agrees, reaching out for her. "I’ll find her place of honor around here somewhere."

"Put her on your nightstand," you suggest, handing her over. 

"Ugh," he says, setting her aside, "Only if you want me to have nightmares."

You burst into laughter once more, a rhapsodic melody that dances and twirls through the room. His eyes ignite with a warm, genuine light, and he smiles like he’s savoring every note, as if your happiness is a hard-earned treasure he's been longing for. 

The shattered remnants of life you once shared press against the scar tissue encasing your heart. They're persistent specters, trying to dislodge themselves and reform into your present. You can feel their sharpness pulling trying to come together like a puzzle. 

Your hand instinctively finds its way to your chest, where your heart resides beneath the layers of history. Pressing gently on that tender spot at the center, you push away the complications of the past and the future and just are, in this moment with him. 

"What else? What else?" You clap your hands, bouncing in your spot. 

"Okay, okay," he gives in, happy to indulge you, "Um, a pack of crayons, a monopoly piece." He tosses them aside. "Could have done without that. Looks like some clothes." He pulls out some folded band tees. "Want any of these?"

"Maybe," you shrug, "I could have them recut."

"Oh, this is yours," he tosses a ball of red fabric at you, and you catch it with both hands before he continues to search through the box.

"Is this what I think it is?" He asks, his voice brimming with excitement as he pulls a rectangular tin from the box. He shakes it, creating a sharp sound as something shifts inside the metal container.

"Yes," he says, his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he attempts to pry off the lid. Your focus turns to what you're holding, and you clutch the vest's hems, watching as your Musicland uniform unfurls before you.

His voice fades into the background as the gold name tag pinned to the front catches the light. A heavy sensation settles in your stomach, tightening and cramping as a sick, painful feeling creeps in and spreads — nausea churns, threatening to bring bile to the surface as breath comes hard, each inhale a battle.

"Polaroids," Eddie declares in triumph as he pries off the lid.

"Stop it," you manage to utter, your voice quivering, your trembling hands twisting the vest as if folding it small enough could somehow make the pain disappear.

"They’re pretty faded, though," he remarks, unaware. 

"I said, that's enough!" The balled-up vest flies from your hands, landing back in the box. Adrenaline surges through your veins, and you push yourself up on unsteady legs, resolute despite the confusion on his face. "I need to leave."

"Wait a minute." He gets to his feet, following you. The small pile you made topples over, forgotten as you pick up your bag from the couch. "What just happened?" He moves in front of you, blocking your path. "I thought we were having fun."

"Fun?" The word is a shard of ice. You sling your bag onto your shoulder, stepping around him towards the door.

"Just hold on a minute." He steps in front of you again, raising his hands with open palms, lines forming on his forehead. His eyes search yours, trying to find answers. "Tell me what's going on." 

"What do you want?" The words slice the air, eyes locked, a bare blade of anger.

"I wanted to-" His eyes flick towards the abandoned box in the center of the room.

"No." Your head shakes, "Why are you here? Now?  After all this time? What do you want from me?"

"I just wanted to see you." His arms cross over his chest and he hesitates, speaking softly, "I missed my friend."

"Your friend," sarcasm drips from your words as you quirk a brow, "So you show up here with a box of crap and a ‘hey doll’," your voice lowers to mock him before you continue, "And I’m supposed to what? Forget about everything that happened, hand you a clean slate and drop everything to follow you around like a puppy again because you feel like paying me some attention?"

"That’s not…I’m not asking for that." His hand runs through his curls, frustration building in his tone. 

"I'm not going to sit here with you wandering down memory lane and watch you pretend like you cared." Your eyes sting, but tears won't fall. You've shed your last one for him long ago. "Like any of it mattered."

"No one's pretending here, doll." He takes a step closer, his hands falling to his side, fingers rubbing at the seam of his jeans. "Of course, it mattered. All of it."

Your bag falls from your shoulder with a resounding thud, its weight matching your resolve as you push your hand against his chest. "I don't believe that for a second. If it mattered, you never could have done what you did."

"Done what?"

"Left me!" Your hand lands flat across your heart. "Without a goodbye, just some shitty mixtape full of songs I can't even listen to without reliving it over and over."

"You're right." His voice rises to match your volume, his fingers closing around your biceps. "I was a coward, and I ran. I couldn't see that look on your face again, the one you had when I told you I was leaving. I should’ve said goodbye, but I knew you'd try to convince me to stay, and I was never going to. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I can't be sorry I left."

"Hurt me?" You push his hands away, taking a step back to control the cracking in your voice. "You didn't just hurt me, Eddie. You destroyed me."

He swallows, looking away. "You were better off."

Fresh anger surges, along with the strong desire to escape – to leave this dead and buried, maybe for another decade until the hurt isn’t so strong. 

"See, that right there is why I'll never believe you," you snap, pointing an accusatory finger his way as you step around him, your hand closing around the doorknob. But at the last moment, turning, wanting him to hear it. At least once.

"I didn't quit Musicland. I got fired. I cried for days after you left. Then I wouldn't leave my room, not even to eat. I was so afraid to miss your call."

There's regret in his eyes as he steps forward, getting closer until he can touch you again, one hand gently gliding up your arm.

"But that call never came, did it, Eddie? Not one. And every day that passed, I died a little. But then I wasn't sad anymore. All those tears, they turned to hate," you say coldly, locking your gaze with his. "I hated you. I hated you for every song that came on the radio reminding me. I hated Hawkins and everyone in it. But most of all, I hated myself for believing. That's what you did to me, Eddie. You made me hate myself."

"I’m so sorry, doll," his words barely crest the silence, as his gentle hand cradles your jaw.

His touch is hot, but inside you, a coldness lingers–inside you’re stone. "You kissed me, and then you left me. You knew how I felt." 

"I know. I know. I’m sorry." He steps closer, trying to pull your rigid form into his arms, lips brushing your temple. "You don’t even know how much. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing. But you’re wrong. It all mattered. I did care. That kiss..it’s the reason…" He pulls back and looks into your eyes, "You knew me, you always did, but there were things I couldn’t tell you. Things I couldn’t admit to myself, how scared and angry I was."

Your head shakes as you swallow hard. "You're not even real!" You shout in his face, your fingers clutching the doorknob behind you. Spinning, you tug hard, but his hand slams against the door above your head keeping it shut. 

"Stop, doll," he pleads, but the push-pull intensifies. You're no match for his strength. "Stop it!" He yells, his hand pushes on your shoulder, turning you to face him. Anger flashes in his eyes, and his cheeks flush.

"The boy I knew could never have done that." Your shoulder jerks, breaking his hold as you attempt to turn away again.

His fingers wrap around the side of your neck, keeping you in place. "That boy could never have given you what you wanted. He wouldn’t have had the first clue how to handle you."

"Is that why you’re back?" You ask, still defiant even as his thumb presses into your throat, tipping your head to meet his gaze. "Dragging this all up again, ruining my life? Because you do?" 

"Damn right, I do." His words are a gravelly assertion, barely escaping before his mouth descends toward yours. For a heartbeat, the world pauses, the space between charged with past promises, until your mouths finally meet — urgent and fierce. You part your lips eagerly, tongues finding their way together in a hungry and unapologetic dance. The firm pressure of his commanding lips moving in sync with yours is a spark, igniting a flame that seems to spread with each touch. His scruff is a rasp against your skin, a pleasant roughness that contrasts with the smoothness of his kiss. He tastes like cinnamon and a hint of coffee. The scent of clove and cedar envelopes your senses, leaving you lightheaded as fire licks through your body. This kiss is the culmination of years of longing, swelling and crashing like an orchestral finale. Instruments unite in a tumultuous crescendo, echoing the mighty crash of a wave against the shore.

Minutes slip away, yet your greedy mouths remain desperate. The room falls into a hushed stillness, save for the sharp intakes of breath and the sensuous wet slide of lips gliding against each other. Your fingers gently tangle in the soft waves at the nape of his neck, evoking a low, guttural groan that mingles with your shared breath when you tug. The kisses seem endless, broken only by fleeting gasps of air, compelling you to pull each other closer, savoring every taste. His hands trace the graceful curves of your body, touching every inch as they follow a path beyond your hips and ass, seizing the back of your thighs. With a firm grasp, he lifts you. Pressing you against the unyielding door, gasping as he positions you just how he wants — aligning himself hot and hard against your center. 

"Fuck," he growls against your lips as his hips roll, igniting fireworks through your body. Your eyes flutter shut, and colors burst against the darkness – a kaleidoscope exploding behind your lids.

As he nips at the plush of your bottom lip, teeth grazing in a tender claim, a muted buzz begins in your bag—a sharp, insistent sting—that yanks you from the haze back into the real world. His eyes remain closed when you pull away. He leans closer, chasing your mouth, but the moment is already shattered. 

Your stomach plummets in a tight coil of regret as the harsh reality of your actions sets in. His kiss, once sweet, now tastes like the ash of betrayal. A distressed whimper escaping your throat has him finally looking at you, shock written clearly across his features. Slowly, he releases you, your body sliding against his until the flat of your feet meets the floor. He takes a step back, hesitating, swallowing before he starts, "Doll —"

"No." You shake your head, your hands covering your mouth. The gold band on your fourth finger is a cool scorch against your swollen lips. "I have to go." You spring into motion, rushing to the couch to gather your bag.

"Stay, and we can talk about this," he implores, one hand moving to his hip as the other rakes through his hair. 

"Please don’t," you plead, "Don’t ask me for anything else." You swing the strap over your shoulder. "I just ch–" But the word stays stuck in your throat as your eyes swim with tears of regret.

His face falls, and he tries to argue, "It's not your fault, okay? I kissed you."

"Eddie—"

"You didn't do anything wrong. It was me," he insists, frustration in his voice as you scrub your face with your hands. "I don't want you driving when you're upset."

"I'm sorry," you say with an aching heart, pushing past him and closing the door behind you.

The sidewalk blurs under your feet as you race to your car. Fat raindrops splatter against the concrete like a spray of gunfire. Each one a cold, wet slap against your skin, snapping you back to reality. The sky chooses this moment to crack open, unleashing a torrent that feels personal. Your car comes into view, a bright orange ticket flapping under the wiper like a flag of defeat. Perfect. Just perfect.

With hands slick from the rain, you fumble with your keys before throwing yourself into the driver’s seat. Snatching the ticket from under the wiper as you go and crumpling it into your fist, stuffing it into the glovebox to be dealt with later. The downpour drums on the roof, enclosing you in a watery cocoon as you search through your bag for your phone. A missed call from Steve and a text reminding you about the dry cleaning. You spill the contents of your messenger onto the passenger seat, pens and lip gloss tumbling into the footwell. "Shit!" The word is a half-sob as you clutch the receipt marked with today's hours in unforgiving black ink.

Glancing at the clock on your dash, it hits you with the subtlety of a wrecking ball– six minutes until closing. It might as well be in another time zone, given the snarled rush hour traffic and the river that the streets have become.  The car roars to life as you pull out, tires hissing on wet asphalt, windshield wipers barely keeping up with the deluge. Your skin still sings with Eddie’s touch, but it's the burgeoning storm of words—cheater, adulterer, betrayer—mixed with the soft hazel of Steve’s disappointed eyes that tattoo themselves across your conscience. This is the unforgivable sin and you can't undo it, but you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

You're double-parked now, hazards blinking a frantic rhythm. The 'CLOSED' sign on the dry cleaner's door mocks you as you rattle the unrelenting metal handle. "Please, please, please," you whisper, pounding on the uncaring glass, your pleas unheard, bouncing off the empty shadows within. A car horn cuts through the rain — a harsh, impatient blare. "What the fuck, lady?" The other driver yells, uncaring of your predicament.

"I'm moving, I'm moving!" The words are a rain-soaked shout as you slosh back to your car, drenched and utterly defeated.

With a turn of the key, your car growls to life, another angry horn sounding off as you pull into traffic, carelessly cutting off a Yellow Cab in your haste. Rainwater drips from your hair, soaking your shirt. Even with the heater set to blast, it does little against the chill that has settled deep in your bones. Down the road, a bright blue sign glows like a beacon, and you jerk the steering wheel, the car fishtailing as you skid into the lot. 

The pharmacy's fluorescent lights are too bright and too sterile as you grab a small bottle of mouthwash off the shelf in the travel section and wait in line to pay, the store's generic electronic music grating against your already frayed nerves. Outside, you stand on the corner, swishing and spitting the minty liquid onto the sidewalk, repeating the process, trying to cleanse more than just your mouth. A passerby wrinkles their nose at you from under their umbrella. "This is Chicago! You've seen worse!" You snap, arms thrown up in exasperation while the rain and your regrets mingle on the cold pavement.

With trembling fingers, you pull the cardigan you had left at Stax off the back of your office chair. Shrugging it on, the material dampens from your wet t-shirt but offers a little warmth. Your phone buzzes as you settle at your desk — five missed calls from Eddie and four texts. The roar of the heavy rain and being buried deep in your bag had muffled its sound, not that you would have picked up. 

Eddie: Answer the phone, doll!

Eddie: Look, I need to know that you’re okay.

Eddie: I swear to Christ if you don’t pick up.

Eddie: Okay, have it your way. I’m driving to your place.

What? No! Your thumb presses the call button, and it rings twice before it connects. There’s no hello, just the slight hum of an engine and the rain pelting glass. 

“I’m okay,” you breathe into your phone, “I didn’t go home. I’m at my office.”

Your heart drums in your ears with each second of silence. Your eyes flutter shut, relief flooding you when he finally responds, an exhale loosening the tension in your chest.  His voice resonates in a dark rumble through the phone, "We need to talk."

“I….I know,” your voice wavers as you wipe your nose on the back of your hand. “I just need a minute here, Ed. Can you give me some time?” 

The rhythmic blink of the turn signal punctuates his heavy sigh. “Yeah. Alright. But doll,” he pauses as the sound of water splashing against his vehicle mingles with the whoosh of passing traffic, “You’re not running away from this. And trust me, the irony of that statement isn’t lost on me. Think about what I said, okay? I meant it all.”

With a tight throat, you whisper, "I have to go," and disconnect the call. 

Placing your phone on the desk, you dab the raindrops off your face with a tissue. The quiet of the office wraps around you, its half-dark corners and the soft glow from the kitchen creates a place for you to breathe and be still. The raging storm and the ticking wall clock echoing in the solitude do little to distract you from thoughts you’re not ready to face. With a deep breath, you lift the lid of your laptop, seeking refuge in the normalcy of work as you coax the screen back to life.

The song erupts from the speaker on the edge of your desk, a jolt of sound shattering the silence like an accusation. You grab it with fumbling fingers, scrambling to press the off button. The sudden calm is unsettling. Covering your face with your hands, you let out a sound that is equal parts sob and hysterical laughter, wondering how you ended up in this situation. With your elbows pressed against the wooden top, you bury your face in your hands, muffling the sobs that mix with laughter — the tragedy of your life bordering on absurd. 

“What are you doing here, kid?”

The gruff voice cuts through your introspection, startling you for a second time. "Jesus Christ, Hopper," you gasp, clutching at your chest, "You scared the hell out of me."

Hopper's dry remark floats from behind you, hands buried in his pockets. "Guess we're even since Mr. Brightside nearly sent me into cardiac arrest."

“You listen to The Killers?” You ask, a note of surprise in your voice as he drags a chair from the next desk, its wheels screeching faintly against the concrete floor.

“You kids really think Jim Croce is the only thing on my playlist?” A chuckle escapes him as he eases into the chair beside you, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

You muster a puzzled look, shaking your head in feigned denial.

“Don’t bullshit me, kid. I don’t have much time. I’m meeting Joyce for dinner at that Italian place on Taylor Street. I’ve been dreaming about the breadsticks. Enzo puts some spice on ‘em, I don’t know what it is, but it’s good. You dip it in olive oil,” he groans, “Forget about it. Those things knock your socks off, and I’m wavering on the main course between—”

“I need you to take me off the studio opening,” you interrupt, folding your arms across your chest like a barrier.

“We’ve been over this. Unless you have some good reason–”

“Eddie kissed me,” the confession slips out, eyes widening in shock at your admission, hands flying to cover your mouth.

His brows rocket upwards, then draw together, his gaze sharpening, voice dipping into a low, protective timbre, “What do you mean he kissed you?” 

“No,” you clarify, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing an elbow against the desk, massaging your temple to soothe the forming headache. “I kissed him. We kissed. It was mutual.”

Hopper reclines, the chair creaking under his weight, his gaze level and unreadable. “I’m disappointed in you, kid. I never thought I’d be having a conversation like this with you.”

“I know. I know. Steve…” you trail off, eyes drifting to the photo of Steve on your desk, the words catching in your throat.

Hopper leans in, his hand cutting through the air. “I don’t give a fuck about Harrington,” each word gains in volume, “This is about you and everything you’ve worked for. It’s 2012. That kind of nonsense ends careers. Do you know what can happen if he complains?”

Your eyes roll. “He’s not going to complain, Hop.”

“You don’t know that,” he counters, his head shaking off your naivety. “These things like this have a way of coming out. That was an amateur move. Where is your professionalism? What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, lowering your eyes. “We have more of a history than I let on.”

“Well, stop the presses. I couldn’t have figured that one out.” His voice lowers in resignment, “Maybe this is my fault–”

“No–” 

Your protest is swift, but he plows right over you, “Everyone knows you’re my favorite, but right now, I’m going to treat you like all the rest of the idiots in this place.” His hand waves around the room before pointing right at you. “You’re going to keep your dick in your pants and get those interviews done. If you want to play kissy face, you do it on your own time. You got me?”

Your mouth drops open, disbelief palpable. “You're still going to make me finish?”

“Damm, right I am,” Hopper affirms, not missing a beat. "If I hand your work off, it raises questions. Big, messy questions. What do I tell downtown when they ask why the piece was reassigned? Unless you’re ready to come clean to Harrington?” 

Your lip goes between your teeth as your head shakes.

“I thought so.” Hopper leans back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "This could be both our necks," he mutters, concern filling his voice.

Your head shakes, but your determination is clear. "It won't."

“It better not. I don’t want to hear another word about it until that last story is on my desk. Are we clear?”

Your jaw clenches, the reality of the situation hitting hard. "Crystal."

Hopper's gaze remains fixed on you, ensuring his point has been made. "Good," he says, his voice softening, "Now go on, get out of here. Deal with whatever mess you've got going on. Just make sure it's sorted by Monday."

Your key slides into the lock and you turn it slowly, the tumblers falling into place with a series of soft clicks. You pause, leaning your forehead against the chill of the metal door, grappling with a rising queasiness that sours your stomach. 

A wave of home's warmth engulfs you, mingled with the earthy aroma of herbs and roasting potatoes. The vibrant strains of Queen accompany Steve's honeyed tones floating down the hall from the kitchen.

"Welcome home, Ace. I was beginning to wonder where you were," his voice, laced with a touch of concern, greets you, “Busy day? Did you write me a Pulitzer?”

Your messenger bag slides from your shoulder, giving into gravity with a loud smack against the hardwood.

His voice grows nearer, warmer as he moves down the hall, the floor lightly creaking with each footfall. “I swung by the Athenian Room, grabbed us Chicken Kalamata, and I have a bottle of chardonnay breathing.”

That dish — your absolute favorite. Your heart sinks further, receding behind your ribcage, unworthy of his care or devotion.

He stops short when he rounds the corner into the foyer, taking you in, your disheveled state reflected in his eyes. 

"I didn’t get the dry cleaning," you admit in a low murmur, struggling to keep your voice steady. "I was... too late."

For a heartbeat, he's silent, but his eyes remain tender, brimming with concern. “Hey, that's alright, Ace. I'll just skip the gym in the morning and swing by the cleaners before work. Are you okay?”

Traces of the day find a path down your cheeks as you sniffle, drawing the cardigan tighter around you like a shield. "I got caught in the storm." 

“Did you forget your coat?” He asks drawing closer as you give a small nod. His hands slide up your biceps, continuing on to wrap around you. “You're frozen.” He uses his thumb to lift your chin. “How about a hot shower, yeah? I'll keep dinner warm. You'll feel better after you eat.” His mouth begins to near yours, but you turn your face away. 

"I think I'm coming down with something," you manage to say, your lies teetering atop your mounting guilt. "My throat is sore."

Concern etches his features, his brows knitting together as he adjusts, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You don't feel hot.”

Pulling away, you press your face into his shoulder. "I think I'll just shower and go to bed," you whisper, your voice muffled.

“If that's what you want,” he replies, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, though his tone is threaded with disappointment. “Go on up and I'll bring you some water and a couple of Tylenol.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you say, stepping away with a weight in your chest. “I'm really sorry.” 

“Don't worry about it.” He waves off your apology, his smile faint but sincere. His arms fold over his chest as he turns back toward the kitchen. 

As you climb the stairs, the music snaps off, replaced with the distant roar of a sports game, the announcers' voices carrying up the stairwell. 

The embrace of the hot shower strips away the cold clinging to your skin, but it cannot wash away the sting of regret. Sliding down the slick tiles, you draw your knees to your chest, allowing your tears to meld with the streams of water spiraling towards the drain. 

Your life is a song made up of the choices you've made, each one a different note that sounded so sure at the time, but now the harmony seems slightly off-key. The steam rises around you like a specter. It's the quiet between the chords. And you're there, just listening, trying to figure out if there's a note you'd change or if every single one was necessary. As you nestle into bed, sleep tugging like an insistent tide amidst the drift into dreams, one truth resonates clear– the music plays on.

AN: Thanks for sticking with this series. I know it's a long one and I took a while to update. To be honest, I lost a little confidence in my writing but I still feel like this a story worth telling. This is my love letter to Eddie. My way of giving him an ending he never had a shot at. I'm going to see it through. Do me a solid and leave a comment & reblog. My asks are always open. Your song suggestions continue to bring this story to life. XOXO - Jelly

Song 5 - Coming soon! For notifications follow @tornupdates

Listen to Fake Plastic Trees here.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic

[kuroowo]

Gojo x Reader x Geto

- Poly & General HCs, not chronological

- GN!Reader

- WARNING : One mention of dacryphilia, mentions of fighting & therapy

Part 2 (still writing) // Masterlist

Gojo has a habit of stealing bites off yours and Geto’s plates. It doesn’t matter if he already has his own or has yet to even touch it. It doesn’t matter if Suguru drenches his in so much sauce you can’t even see what’s beneath anymore. It doesn’t matter if you try to fight his utensils with yours or stab his hand with your fork. It doesn’t matter if Satoru’s so full he could implode with even a whiff of it. If it’s food that’s yours & Suguru’s, he’s taking a bite out of it. Bet.

You come to find that Gojo can turn on the waterworks really easily, but it’s never genuine tears. Meanwhile Geto doesn’t really cry much and finds it extremely hard to fake cry like his boyfriend does, until you find him nearly bawling over sad family/loved ones/friends/animal centred movies in the dark of his own room. He tries to cover it up when he notices you at his door, but in the end, your boyfriend’s head ends up sniffling in your lap with the movie continuing instead. You, on the other hand, cry quite easily and sometimes most of the times it makes your boyfriends want to tease you. Especially in bed (pretty sure they developed dacryphilia).

Nearly every corner of Satoru’s & Suguru’s rooms are filled with affectionate gifts from you. Be it random little trinkets that reminded you of them, stuffed toys of white cats and black wolves in all different shapes and sizes, hand written love letters and poems, dried flowers of different shades and kinds, scrap paper filled with doodles of the three of you — everything and anything you gift them, they have it. Even the ones from before you got together with them. Shoko calls them whipped. Haibara calls them sweet. Not that it matters when it’s become their safe space.

Gojo teaches you and Suguru to live more carefree, to be more adventurous, and to love more openly. Geto teaches you and Satoru to be more inquisitive, to carry morality in your hearts, and to appreciate love in actions. You teach Satoru and Suguru to live with balance, to respect boundaries without distancing, and to accept love as if it were home embodied in a person.

Gojo & Geto gets into a lot of trouble, small or big, when it comes to being tactful and sensitive to others. If you find Geto alone, he’s much more gentlemanly & exemplary, but placing them together always seem to bring out the mischievous (sometimes dickhead) side in him. Placing you in between them is a 50/50 gamble. Sometimes you make them worse, much like a trio of green tea bitches, but sometimes you halt them as if on a leash, as if a saint with two devils tamed.

Gojo and Geto likes to drag you out a lot. It would be every weekend if it wasn’t for you enticing them with a movie marathon and junk food in pyjamas, cozied up together, cuddling and giggling. A type of weekend they learn to crave when you’re out without them.

Gojo moves around quite a bit in his sleep, Geto’s a bit like an immovable object in his sleep, you’re a little in between but you bring a thousand stuffed toys and a bolster so the shared bed is kind of a mess.

Geto’s not a picky eater, you’re a picky eater, and Gojo prefers sweets (if he could live only on sweets, he would). Whenever you three go out to eat, it’s almost always a bit of a bicker between you and Gojo because he wants to eat sweets first and you think that he’s going to get diabetes before he hits 30, or he wants to eat at XYZ but you hate the way they make ABC. Geto would not give two fucks and just drives to where he wants to eat, sits everyone down, orders his food first. Then you and Satoru would team up to admonish Suguru’s table manners because, “How could you?!” & “The betrayal!”. Suguru is sick of you two (affectionate).

Often times, Gojo would just eat out because it’s just lesser of a hassle for his schedule (OT’s quite a lot) and because Geto is in the same line of business, he ends up doing the same most of the time too. They would feel guilty for coming home late and having you eat by yourself if it weren’t for the fact that you crave alone time after spending a whole day working to recharge, so they just leave you be and you’re appreciative of that. But ever since they found out you tend to cook meals for yourself rather than order take out, they’ve unanimously decided to come home to your dinners at least once a week. You’re half annoyed and half worried because A, you’ll have to cook x5 the portion (their appetite’s huge) and B, your taste might not suit them (Suguru’s not picky but that doesn’t mean you want him to eat something that isn’t that good to him just because it’s edible). Your boyfriends quelled your worries (most of it) when they said they’ll help cook and set up with you, and for the most part they do quite well with you in the kitchen. So in the end, while you do need your recharge, you find that once a week(day) doing this extremely domestic thing with them makes you fall even harder. Who would’ve known? (They did.)

You made it a habit to kiss them when they get back from work and on rougher days, you’ll take care of them the best way you can. Drawing them a warm baths, ordering in their favourites, and lots of reassurance through words (for Geto) & touches (for Gojo). Nowadays, if Gojo doesn’t receive a welcome home kiss he’ll sulk (extremely so) until he does. Geto’s the same where he expects a kiss, and when that doesn’t happen, he’ll make you kiss him one way or another.

When you’re having a bad day, Gojo tends to be the one to notice by observation and Geto tends to notice by instinct. They try to be gentler, sweeter, softer, and even more so when it’s particularly rough for you. Geto would take care of you by setting up a comfortable space for you, cooking you your comfort meals, and making sure you’re drinking enough water. Gojo would be stuck by your side like super glue on skin. He’d crowd your space, cocoon you in a soft blanket, and surround you with his arms, legs, and warmth. Both Satoru and Suguru would talk to you or stay in silence until you’re okay again, and it would feel like they could finally breathe a sigh of relief. (Please expect lots of kisses after since they learned that’d be the fastest way to get you smiling again)

Having fights with them was the worst, especially since it rarely happens. The fact that all three of you know each others weaknesses, breaking points, and sensitive topics makes it all the worse because when it gets too heated, all hell breaks loose. You would always be the first to cry, Geto would always be the first to walk away, and Gojo would be the first to pretend everything was fine. The first time it had happened, you barricaded yourself in your room for one and a half day before they came banging at your door to reconcile properly (the boys made up separately by literally having a fight). The last time it happened, you considered having a break from the relationship and each other. Just one short enough for everyone to get away and have some time to cool and collect themselves, “I think it’ll be good for us.”, but a resonate rejection came immediately from the other two. They knew that if they agreed, you’d never come back to them because while yes, Suguru’s the first to walk away, but he always comes back just as quick. You, however, once you walk away, you would walk away for good in the end (it was just a matter of when). So the fact that you would suggest such a thing was more than alarming to them, so much so that a chill of fear trickled down their spine.

Couples therapy was suggested as an outcome of the last fight. While none of you wanted to have a third (fourth?) party knowing the more intimate parts (or any parts) of your relationship, it was the most logical and effective method seeing as you and Geto are already have your own therapists. Gojo was the most reluctant (“We can just fix it ourselves.”), but if it meant that you wouldn’t leave him, then so be it. The sessions were chaotic and didn’t progress too much at first, but with time and tremendous efforts from everyone, it helped with improving the way you three communicated and loved each other.

You fell first, but Geto fell harder, and Gojo fell hardest.

#just let me feed my own delusions a little please #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo x geto #satosugu #gojo x geto x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jjk.fics #jjk headcanons #gojo headcanons #geto headcanons #jjk.hcs

[siempre-bucky]

pumpkin spice

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake's a strict black coffee kind of guy until he wasn't.

wc: 720

a/n: i had this idea at 2am and couldn't put it down...so here we are...

"What the fuck is that?" Jake questioned, a grimace on his face as his eyes followed the cold orange colored drink he was passing to you. 

Shifting in the passenger seat, you rolled your eyes and happily took it from him. "A pumpkin spice latte. It's the taste of fall," you laughed, taking a small whiff of the spices sprinkled on top of the whipped cream. 

"Taste of fall," he repeated mockingly as he took his black coffee from the girl at the window. "Sounds gross." Jake was a strict black coffee kind of man, just like his father and the other Seresin men. Javy sometimes managed to sneak a creamer in when the aviator wasn't looking. He got an iced black coffee in the summer months when he felt adventurous. 

You snorted and took a long drink. "Have you even tried it?" 

"No," he answered confidently, "And I don't need to try it to know it's gross." 

You reached over the console and took his coffee from his free hand and replaced it with yours. "Try it," you insisted. 

The blond formed a pouty face, his green eyes narrowed like a stubborn child. "No."

Time to bring out the big guns. "I'll call you the best pilot in the Navy over comms." The way to get Jake Seresin to do anything you want: stroke his ego. 

Jake gave you an unimpressed look that could only make you giggle, his strong hand gripping the cup a little tighter. "The things I do for you," he joked. Cautiously, he brought the green straw to his lips and slowly drank. 

The coffee hit his tongue and he surprisingly didn't flinch like you were expecting. He looked stone faced at the red light in front of him, eyebrows furrowed in thought. 

If Jake learned anything in his thirty plus years of life, he learned to conceal how he felt. He didn't want to admit that the fall drink tasted really fucking good, he didn't want to give you that satisfaction. He doubted it would give him the caffeine he needed for a day of flying, but damn it was enjoyable. He snuck in another sip before pulling away. 

"Sorry, baby," he chuckled dryly, handing back the drink as the light turned green. "Black coffee's the only drink for me." 

You reluctantly smiled and looked up at one of the jets taking off from base. "Thanks for trying it, honey,” you sighed in defeat.  

A couple mornings later, Jake walked into one of the classrooms at Top Gun with two identical cups in his hands. Their warmth soothed his hands on the cold October morning. 

You were deep in conversation with Halo and Phoenix when he approached you, handing you your cup. You smiled at the way he wrote your name in black pen, accompanied by a little doodle of your callsign. "Tea? I'm shocked you didn't ask for that pumpkin shit." 

 "Thanks, Bagman," you smirked, ignoring his comment. 

Maverick's lecture seemed to go on for hours, a corner of your notebook covered in doodles and your eyes began to fall heavy. Absentmindedly, you reached for one of the cups that sat in front of you and Jake. 

Blowing the steam to cool it down, you brought the lid to your lips. You expected the taste of lemony tasting tea not—pumpkin. Your eyebrows raised at the foreign taste, doing everything in your power not to react and cause a scene. 

You pulled back and pressed your lips together as you turned the cup. 'Jake' was written in thick black sharpie along the side. That sly son of a bitch, you thought before a wide shit eating grin broke out on your face. 

Setting the cup back down, you nudged the man beside you. "What happened to your coffee, Jakey? It actually tastes like something this morning," you teased in a hushed tone. 

Jake tensed up, the grip on his pencil almost enough to break it in half. "Tell no one," he grits. 

"I bet your lips taste sweeter now." You weren't going to let him live this down. Not when his cheeks were a beautiful crimson and he looked like he could shut you up with one bruising kiss.

"Sweetheart," he warned. 

You looked over at him and winked, "Told you, taste of fall."

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fluff #hangman x reader #hangman x you #top gun #top gun maverick

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Remus Lupin x fem!reader [2K] protective!you, soft!Remus

Honestly, Remus should’ve seen it coming. You were never one to back down from a fight and the whole reason he was missing from class that day was the same grounds for your eventual argument. 

Professor Marigold had spent the best part of Care of Magical Creatures explaining moon phases and the effects each stage had on lycanthropes. You had been sitting between James and Sirius, squished in the middle as they doodled on their book margins, not really listening. Because, well, they’d had some first hand experience, hadn’t they? Which is why the professor was so surprised when she called on Sirius and he answered correctly, barely looking up. 

You were more on edge than the boys, wishing you’d skipped with Remus, wondering if he would’ve let you hide out in the boys dorm with him, sharing James’ hidden stash of Honeydukes loot everyone knew he kept at the bottom of his trunk. You spent most of the class eyeing your fellow students, Gryffindors and Slytherins divided in rows of three, sometimes four, a neat separation of red and gold, green and silver. 

You wondered if someone would say something, you wondered if someone would sneer, if they’d pull a face at the sketching of a werewolf in the textbook, if they’d shudder in fear or say something awful. It was silent as Professor Marigold spoke about the ramifications of being bitten, the changes the host went through each lunar cycle. You hated the word, ‘host’. It sat bitterly at the back of your throat and you changed it to ‘person’ when scribbling down your notes, more messily than you’d usually be. 

You felt Sirius watch you, dark gaze lingering on the way you sat up too straight, how your shoulders were tense and unyielding when he brushed against your own. If the boys shared a look over your head, well, you didn’t notice. 

Class was almost over, in fact, you were only mere minutes away from the finish line. But then a Slytherin you didn’t know the name of narrowed her eyes and said something you only just heard, a scorned hiss of:

“…the Ministry should do something about them. They’re a danger to everyone. Full moon or not.”

James’ hand found your knee before you could stand, nostrils flaring and heart pounding, but his touch kept you in your seat. You stared at him, wondering how he could remain so calm but he merely shook his head, subtle and soft. Knowing. 

“S’not the place,” he whispered, still bent over his own notes. “Don’t get yourself into trouble, sweetheart.”

Then class ended and it was fine until it wasn’t. 

The same Slytherin student was lagging behind you as you all made your way back to the castle, morning dew dampening your ankles as you all took a shortcut over the grass. Sirius was singing a song you didn’t know under his breath, James was still trying to stuff his book into his bag and the girl behind you was too fucking loud. You heard the way she gasped and cried out, all horrible dramatics as her and her friend spoke about the recent class subject. 

“I mean, really,” she intoned, walking closer and closer. “It’s not like they can live normal lives, can they? They’re practically monsters, I don’t see why they’re allowed to walk around freely like they have the same rights as—”

You spun, wand drawn, clenched tightly in a white knuckled fist that you barely managed to keep lowered by your side. 

“Well, that actually took longer than I thought,” Sirius mused quietly, stopping beside you with one arm across your chest, holding you back from making any other unwise decisions. “Settle yourself, darling.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you ignored the boy and spoke to the girl, brows stitched together as you tried to work out if you were going to cry or yell. Maybe both, perhaps at the same time - your chest was burning, a sickly kind of anger lingering in your stomach, rolling over and over until it simmered into a rage. The girl hadn’t said Remus’ name, but she might as well have. “You sound so— so ignorant! Have you ever met someone who has to go through something like that? Don’t you understand they’re just like us?”

The girl, Tabitha, maybe, you still weren’t really sure, blanched, staring at you as if you’d dropped from the sky. “What on Earth do you mean?” She laughed and it was a nasty sound, scathing and condescending. “Like us? Are you joking? They’re wild animals, they should be hunted down as such.”

James snatched your wand before you could lift it, red and orange sparks flying into the grass instead of the air and you scowled at him. He grimaced, hardly apologetic but Sirius soon stood between you both, eyes surprisingly soft. 

“Let’s go,” he told you, a gentle command, his hands on your shoulders. “She’s not worth it. Moony’s waiting, c’mon.”

That should’ve been it. The idea of Remus waiting for the three of you at the library should’ve been enough to make your legs work again and pull you away. But the girl was still laughing, an ugly noise, one that made your jaw tick. Sirius tugged at you, hands dropping to curl around an elbow and you took a step, just one. 

“Honestly, if I ever found out I’d shared the same air as one of those creatures, I’d have daddy on the phone to Dumbledore. One curse to the head is all it should ta—”

You ripped yourself from Sirius’ arms quicker than he could grab you, ready to throw your first into the girl’s face - her nose, if you could get your aim right. You watched as she paled, her footsteps fumbling as she backed away faster than you could catch up, all whilst your friends yelled your name from behind you.   

And then, an arm, needling around your waist to haul you up and backwards against a very solid chest. You squirmed, face scrunched in anger, cheeks aflame. 

“Hey, at ease solider, c’mon now.”

Remus. 

You deflated, breathe leaving you in a sigh, knowing that there wasn’t much point in trying to wrestle your way out of his grip. Your feet were dangling a good eight inches off the ground and Remus dropped his mouth to your ear, his voice soft. 

“Leave it, yeah?” 

You nodded, barely perceptible but Remus saw. You saw Sirius take a step towards the girl, eyes narrowed. He looked roguish and dangerous as always, and when he stepped forward once more, this time uttering a soft “boo,” the two girls took off without another word. 

Your wand was given back to you once they were deemed out of sight, your feet firmly back on the ground but Remus kept hand at your lower back, fingers lingering in your sweater, a reminder that he was close. 

“What was your plan, huh?” James’ asked, still wide eyed and surprised that you’d reacted in such a way. “Knock her out with just your fists?”

You rolled your eyes and started back to the castle, embarrassed at being seen having such a response to what was no more than some uneducated - albeit cruel - words. “Yeah, and what about it?” You sounded sullen, a little moody. “I can throw a punch as well as I can cast a hex, Potter.”

Sirius puffed out his chest, smirking. “I taught her.”

James scoffed, muttering something that sounded like, “was that really necessary?”

“What? D’you think she’ll always have her wand on her? What if she doesn’t, what then—”

Remus’ hand, warm and large, caught your own, keeping you from following the other boys and their conversation. He was frowning a little, brows knitted despite the way he was pressing his lips together, as if to hide a smile. He ducked his chin to meet your gaze, too tall otherwise, fingers twisting between your own. 

“What was that all about?” He murmured and his voice was low, pretty and raspy. “Huh?”

You sniffed, emotions catching up to you as the adrenaline faded and you toed at the grass, Mary Janes digging into the wet weeds. You tried to look away, somewhat embarrassed but Remus caught your chin with nimble fingers, scarred and calloused and entirely too lovely. His thumb tapped the space just below your mouth and he waited, quiet and patient. 

You shrugged. “That girl.” You nodded to the Slytherins retreating figure, glaring when she stared back at you from the safety of the castle steps. “Tabitha? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. She was talking about—” you almost said ‘you,’ but that wasn’t true. She hadn’t spoken about Remus at all. How could she? She didn’t know. 

Remus waited, brows raised, his hand still on your jaw to keep your gaze on him. His touch was soft, more gentle than it needed to be and it made any explanation you wanted to give him a little harder to piece together. 

“Professor Marigold spoke about lunar cycles today,” you swallowed and Remus nodded. He knew this, of course he did. It’s why he spent that hour in his dorm, pretending to be sick. “That girl. Whatever her name is, she started going on about how, how werewolves shouldn’t be allowed to have the same rights as Witches and Wizards, how they should all be—” 

You stared at the boy, lips pressed together, deciding you didn’t want to explain anymore. The bitter feeling in your stomach was still bubbling, acidic and awful, but Remus dropped his hand from your chin to your waist, pulling you into him and it settled, if only slightly. 

He was too tall, his half hug had you face first into his chest, his school sweater smelling like laundry detergent and a little smoke, something sage and citrus that was seemingly just Remus. You clung to him, hands fisting in the familiar grey wool, your lip wobbling against the fabric because it was all suddenly a little too much. Remus rested his chin atop your head, his nose pushed into your hair when he felt your shoulders shake. 

“Hey, hey, c’mon,” Remus whispered, wrapping his arm around you a little tighter, hand travelling upupup until he could pull you closer still by your shoulders. “S’fine, really. I’m used to hearing shit like that.”

His reasoning only made your chest feel tighter and your breath shuddered. “That’s worse, Remus!” You intoned, speaking into his chest. “She was saying vile things, absolutely awful stuff and it’s just not—”

“Fair?” The boy mused, his lips brushing over your hairline. You wondered if Sirius and James had stopped to wait for you both, you wondered if they could see, if they were watching. You found you didn’t care. “The world isn’t fair, love, m’sorry to break it to you. But I’ll survive, no matter what Tabitha Rosethorne says.”

You leaned back, just enough to rest your chin on the boy’s chest, pouting as you gazed up at him, glassy eyed. Remus prodded at your cheek, brushing away one lone tear that had managed to escape out of anger. “She’s a dick,” you mumbled woefully. 

Remus snorted, nodding. He wasn’t used to you using such language, only giving him and the others in trouble for it. “She is a dick, you’re right,” he agreed. “But she’s not worth getting detention for. Were you really going to punch her?”

“I was going to try,” you enthused, flushing at the idea of starting an actual fight, completely wandless. “Sirius told me to keep my thumb on the outside of my fist.”

“Of course he did,” Remus mused, sounding unimpressed. “You shouldn’t be starting fights, you know, you’re too lovely for that. Especially on my behalf.”

Normally you would’ve preened at Remus’ sweet words, his soft compliments, but you were scowling, a full pout on your lips as you shook your head. Remus looked amused, knowing that expression all too well. 

Stubborn. 

“I’ll start fights, only for you,” you corrected him, not leaving much room for argument. “And Sirius will back me up. And more than likely, James too. Once he stops arguing.”

The boy laughed, a bright, sharp sound that had your frown fading quickly. You grinned up at him, smile growing wider when he squeezed at your shoulder and let his nose nudge against your warm cheek. 

“You’re not wrong,” he murmured. Remus kept you tucked under his arm as he lead you back up the grassy knoll, towards James and Sirius who were pretending they hadn’t been watching you both the entire time. “C’mon, hotshot, the library awaits.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin drabble #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #marauder's era #marauders x you

[oh-stars]

Doodles

Hurt

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 539 words | CW: off-screen injury | Rating: G

--

“Does this make me old now?”

Robin rolls her eyes as she sits down beside Steve. She sets her markers down in the crease of her thigh as she twists to face him on the couch. “You’re not old.” 

“Me five years ago would never fumble this hard,” Steve huffs. He goes to cross his arms, but the big, bulky cast on his left hand stops him. He glares hard at it before offering it back to Robin. 

She hums a thankful noise and uncaps the first marker. 

“Just no dicks, please,” Steve sighs, leaning his head back. “I cannot go to work with dicks on my arm.” 

“Who do you think I am? Eddie?” Robin rolls her eyes again . “I would never draw a dick on your arm.” Boobies, however, are a different story. She makes them small and at the top part of his cast where it’s most likely going to be obscured by his shirts and jackets. 

Steve pouts. “I just cannot believe I fell so hard I broke my arm during a game with a bunch of old men.” 

“Aren’t they all under forty?” 

“Yeah, but this,” he gestures to the cast, “proves that I, the youngest of the group, is old and therefore, so are they.” 

“Come back to me when you get your first gray hair, then we can talk.”

“Why would you put that on me? Do you want me to die young? Jesus Christ, Robs,” Steve practically screeches, running his free hand through his hair. 

She just smiles and starts drawing little flowers randomly on the plaster, trading out colors every now and then. He got a bright neon green, so the darker colors are really popping against the plaster. 

For about thirty minutes, Steve just watches the ceiling fan as she doodles on his arm. She’s not leaving room for anyone else to sign, and maybe that’s selfish but Steve’s hers so she’ll do as she pleases, thank you.

Robin looks down at the mostly covered work and sighs. She decides to leave two openings for Dustin and Eddie to sign – the only two of the party who live in Chicago with them right now – but covers the rest. If she left any more openings, Eddie would doodle dicks and nerd shit while Dustin would use Steve’s arm to write equations or something. At least she’s drawing stuff he actually likes. 

There’s baseballs and basketballs (which she realizes may be a sore subject right now, so she put those where they were least visible) among the flowers and little music notes sprinkled in. She even drew a bottle of hairspray in the crease of his elbow. There’s a symbol for every job they’ve worked together: an icecream cone for Scoops Ahoy, a VHS tape for Family Video, a book for that bookstore they love, coffee mug from the brief time they tried to be baristas, a donut from the bakery that Steve still works at full-time and Robin helps out on the weekends, a pawprint for the pet store Robin convinced him to try, and a bone for the museum where Robin was a tour guide (and now does research at full-time) and Steve worked in the gift shop. 

And in big letters, going down his arm, she’s signed, “I love you dingus ❤ Robin.” 

“How’s that look?” 

Steve looks over it with a fond smile, the first since he reluctantly called her from the gym this morning. “It’s perfect.” 

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

#ohstars fic #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #stobin month 2024 #ohstars posting challenge #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #stobin

[floydstruly]

i know it’s been too long.

synopsis: it’s cold, much too cold for a student from Royal Sword Academy—so Floyd figures out a solution that benefits the both of you.

cw. nothing! Yay! It’s just pure fluff >__< not proof read though also! No use of y/n or any mention of name I hate using that so umm not really warning free but still! Whatever!

note. someone give me a request or talk to me in my inbox I’m so bored

pairing: floyd x gn!reader

Winter break is just a week away but even so, it is needlessly gloomy today, clouds shroud the tops of the school and the rain falls down relentlessly, the class is all but silent as your teacher forces you to sit down, lecturing you on the past monarchies–princes, princesses, kings, queens.

You're sure if Floyd was attending Royal Sword Academy with you, he’d be bored half to death. You jot a couple notes down with your ink pen, in the corner of your page is a doodle of what is your best attempt at an eel–or more like Floyd.

Oh, that’s right. You sit up straighter and shudder at the sound of his name in your mind, you promised that you would go and see him during winter break. The thought of going to Night Raven College by yourself, with no entourage or teachers or friends terrifies you.

You think of all the eyes that will follow you around the halls and rude remarks you will receive–it scares you enough to listen to the professor. You immerse yourself in the lecture, trying to keep your mind away from all the possible things that could happen over the break.

Maybe it’ll be worth it if you get to be with your boyfriend, but still, hopefully winter break doesn’t come soon.

No one is around.

You can hear little woodland creatures chittering and the echoes of laughter amidst the snow. The plants are covered in a thin, fragile layer of frost–once green, but now, all wilted and lifeless from the relentless weather. The snowfall flutters down in a serene, peaceful way; like powder, covering the once barren rival campus in a pure white.

Along with the winter season comes the cold, crisp air that continuously nips at you, your skin red with what is reminiscent of blush. You should’ve worn a layer more–you feel as though you will freeze over the longer you spend outside.

You can’t help but admire the spectacle, although it may not be anything special, it reminds you of your home, which doesn’t seem so far away anymore. As you reluctantly trek through the snow and towards the college, it crunches down under your weight.

A cold breeze passes by as you walk, you shiver, burying your face into the scarf Floyd gifted you not so long ago. It craves itself with the image of an eel, wrapping around your neck and comforting your loneliness with what is reminiscent of him. You take a breath in, it still smells like him, sort of like fresh river water.

It’s hard to remember the last time you’ve seen him.

“Shrimpy!” A shrill, excited voice calls out to you when you poke your head into the Monstro Lounge curiously.

That’s right, it’s been at least four months since you’ve last heard that voice in person. Knowing the contempt that Night Raven students have for the ‘pissy and pauper’, you’ve never once tried to venture too far outside of Royal Sword Academy, let alone think about it with the exception of school events.

That’s what you look forward to most–because those are the only times you see Floyd, really.

You can feel a couple watchful eyes on you and your uniform as white as snow, completely untarnished and the face of perfection. You adjust your clothes under the weight of their gaze nervously, you’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have come to spend the holiday with Floyd.

“See? Told yah this was a good idea, they like you already!” You’re not sure that ‘like’ was the right word, maybe something more akin to disdain or loathing. He smiles and waves his hand to beckon to follow him, his rows of pearly, sharp teeth only add to your unease.

You oblige, allowing yourself to be whisked away by merman.

The heart of the fireplace beats against the two of you, slowly chasing away the remains of the harsh winter cold. Floyd is sprawled against the velvety couch in the VIP lounge, his head rested soundly on your lap. You sit stiffly in place and push his hair aside to allow yourself to admire his features more closely.

You’re all alone again, but it feels much more welcoming now.

His fingers find their way under your eel-like scarf, you shudder at the touch of his skin against yours–fingertips pressing against your ever increasing pulse. It’s a foreign, his hands are cool. But you don’t try to swat his hand away, instead, you sigh and press the palm of his closer to your neck.

“You cold?” He asks, shifting his body, sitting up and pushing the scarf away from your neck. You nod quietly in response, underneath the soft, woolly fabric, he manages to make you grin for a moment–melting the confines of your enclosed heart.

He unravels the scarf and tosses it on the dirty floor, exposing your neck to the open air–it doesn’t help at all, but you can’t help but laugh. It takes a moment and comes out gradually, first, as a snicker, then into a giggle, and lastly, into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, “did I help?”

“No,” you shake your head, your smile finally reaches your eyes, “can I have my scarf back? That just made me colder.”

“You don’t need that stupid thing, you have me.” He buries his head into your neck in place of the scarf, his arms around your waist in a constrictive embrace. It doesn’t help either, he is cold blooded after all. You can feel his teeth nip at your skin, just as the air did outside not so long ago. But it’s much more pleasant.

“Stupid?” you ask as you return the hug, “you gave that to me.”

“You have the real Floyd right here! You can have it back after winter break, just pay attention to me for now, I missed you lots.”

For some odd reason, it feels a lot warmer now.

“Yeah, don’t worry, you’ll be seeing me more often.”

Maybe, you can ignore all the hate filled stares if it means just a moment longer with Floyd.

“I missed you too.”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x y/n #floyd leech x yuu

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve finally moved out of his parents' house after Robin graduated and into a shared apartment with her. His parents never let him have a pet before, and he had always wanted a cat. It was all he could think about when they moved in.

"If you want a cat, get a cat," Robin shrugged as she doodled Vickie's name over and over. "We're still rolling in that compensation money."

Steve grinned, grabbed his keys, and dashed out the door. He made sure to stop by the pet store first and get as many supplies as he could. The next stop he made was to the animal shelter, and he really shouldn't have, but the first kitten he saw he fell in love with. Her black fur was curled like a sheep's and she only had one green eye. She was curled up in the back and looking weary.

"No one wants her. They always walk past her when they come through the store, which is a shame because she's a beautiful cat. I'd take her, but my husband says I can't keep adopting every animal that comes through here," the clerk said. "I think they pass her by because she's black."

"Well, that's racist," Steve scoffed.

"Yeah," the clerk agreed. "Superstitious assholes."

"She's the one," Steve declared.

"Okay, be careful. She's a little skiddish," she warned Steve.

Steve held out her hand and let her come to him. She didn't at first, still looking at him in an untrustworthy way.

"I won't hurt you. I promise. I just want to give you a home," Steve said.

She understood him because a few seconds later, she was crawling into his hands. Steve smiled and held her to his chest, scratching behind her ear.

"Meow," Yeah, I'm going with you, but I'm also keeping an eye out.

Steve snorted.

"I think that I'll call you Raven," Steve said. "Raven Harrington?"

"Meow." It'll do.

When Steve came home with the kitten in the carrier, Eddie was waiting outside of his apartment door. He had forgotten they were supposed to hang out tonight. Steve blushed. He was wearing an open vest and nothing underneath with his usual pair of black ripped jeans. His hair was in a loose bun, which always drove Steve mad. Heart thumping in his chest, he approached him. He had yet to tell the metalhead how he felt, and he really needed to. Everything about Eddie drove him crazy. Eddie grinned and spread his arms wide. Oh God. He got his nipples pierced.

"Well, what do you think?" Eddie asked.

"They're, uh, nice, Eddie," Steve said, swallowing thickly. "I got a cat. Shit, my hands are full. Uh, is Robin not home?"

"Nope. Do I need to fish your keys out of your pocket for you, big boy?' Eddie asked.

"Y-yes, please," Steve said.

Eddie stepped right into his space, his nose practically touching Steve’s. He fingers slid into the front of Steve’s pocket. Eddie's eyes furrowed. The keys weren't there. He checked the other pocket but still no keys. Eddie grinned and slid both hands into the back pockets of Steve’s jeans. Steve’s mind was completely blank, his face red.

"Oh, keys, where art thou?" Eddie asked.

"Oh! Uh, yeah, they're in my jacket pocket," Steve realized.

Eddie cackled and fished them out of his jacket pocket. He dangled them in front of them before going to unlock the door.

"You know, you could have put the kennel down," Eddie pointed out.

"Yeah," Steve said and scoffed.

"Meeeeooww!" Okay, enough of this bullshit.

Eddie unlocked the door, grabbed the bags from Steve’s hands, and followed him into the apartment. Steve set the kennel down and opened the door. Raven looked weary again and was curled up in the back.

"It's okay, Raven. This is your home now, if you want it to be," Steve cooed, holding out his hand again.

Raven walked out, unsure, and curled up into Steve’s hand. Raven sniffed the air, glancing around the apartment.

"Meow." Better than the shelter, anyway.

"Thanks," Steve scoffed.

Raven glanced over at Eddie, apprasing him. Raven glanced at Steve.

"Meow." This is the man you wish to mate with?

"Why do you have to say it like that?" Steve sighed.

"Uh, Steve, watchya doing?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, you know, just chatting with the cat," Steve said with a shrug and watched with a grin as Raven curled up against his stomach. "Aww, look, she knows her mommy."

"You don't mind being called mommy? I thought that was a joke," Eddie said.

"Mommy, Daddy, you know, whatever I'm in the mood for," Steve shrugged.

"You're just full of surprises, Stevie," Eddie grinned.

"Meow." I am NOT calling you mommy or daddy.

"What if I give you all of the belly scratches and treats you want? Hmm?" Steve cooed.

"Meow." I'm listening. . .mother.

"Good girl," Steve smiled and rubbed her belly.

"Meow." You know, a cat needs a father too.

Raven glanced at Eddie. Steve snorted, blushing. He tucked her under his chin and looked at Eddie, pouting.

"Can you believe that people at the shelter didn't want her because of the way she looks?" Steve said, looking at Eddie.

"Assholes. She looks like a cute little black sheep," Eddie said, kneeling on the floor with Steve. "Although she's not nearly as cute as her mother."

"Meow." Smooth.

"You know, Raven says she needs a Daddy too," Steve said.

"Are you asking me to raise this precious kitten with you, Steve Harrington?" Eddie asked.

"Yes," Steve said.

"Hmm, I guess we can split time evenly between my place and yours," Eddie said.

"I mean, we could, but I think it might work better if you moved in here," Steve said.

"Where would I sleep?" Eddie asked.

"Meow." Wow, slow. Are you sure you want this guy to be my father?

"Okay, I'm so tired of dating. I spent a lot of time looking for the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I don't need to look any further because he's right in front of me," Steve said. "I know we're skipping a lot of steps here, but you're it for me, Eddie."

"You're it for me too, Stevie," Eddie said. "And yes, yes to everything."

Steve and Eddie moved at the same time, their lips meeting in the middle. Eddie smiled against his lips, wrapping his arms around the both of them. It was soft and sweet but also short. Eddie broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Steve’s.

"Is Robin going to be alright with me moving in?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I didn't even tell her that I wanted you to move in. She automatically made space for you in the hall closet and the bathroom. She's also made a key for you. She's just been waiting for me to get my head out of my ass," Steve blushed.

"I'm glad you did," Eddie said.

"By the way, the nipple piercings are totally hot. You should never wear a shirt ever again," Steve said, and Eddie laughed.

"I knew you were only into me for my tits," Eddie said.

"MeeeOW!" I do NOT want to hear this.

Steve grinned and handed the kitten over to Eddie. He got up and started digging around in the stand by the door. He pulled out a key and knelt by Eddie, holding it out to him. Eddie grinned, taking it, and gave him a hard kiss on the lips.

"I love you," Steve said fondly.

"I love you too," Eddie said.

"There's something you should know before we enter into this relationship," Steve said and took in a breath before exhaling. "About me."

"Okay. . .lay it on me," Eddie said.

"I can talk to animals. You know, understand what they're saying and everything. I've always been that way. It's why my parents never let me have any pets. They thought it was weird," Steve shrugged. "I get it if you don't believe me."

"After everything we've been through, of course I believe you," Eddie said. "I think it's the coolest thing ever."

"Meow." This man is a walking doodle.

Raven was looking at Eddie's tattoos. Steve snorted.

"What did she say?" He asked.

"Oh, she called you a walking doodle," Steve said.

"Our daughter is so mean, I love her," Eddie grinned.

With the help of Wayne, Robin, and Vickie, they managed to move Eddie in over the next couple of days. Once Eddie was all settled in, they invited the kids over to hang out and introduce them to Raven. It was date night with Vickie, so Robin wouldn't be there.

"Alright, kids, gather around. Your mother and I have something we want to tell you," Eddie said.

"You know, Steve is not actually our mother," Max said. "It's just a joke."

Steve burst out of the kitchen wearing a frilly apron and carrying a plate of brownies.

"I made brownies!" Steve exclaimed.

"Yeah, a joke based on a lot of evidence," Dustin scoffed.

"Yeah, I got nothing," Max frowned.

Eddie snickered and watched Steve fondly as he set them on the coffee table.

"Anyway, we have something we want to tell you," Eddie said.

"Finally!" Mike said and swallowed his brownie. "Have you two idiots finally stopped dancing around each other?"

"It was getting painful to watch," El said seriously.

"Were we being that obvious?" Steve asked.

"YES!" They exclaimed.

"Okay, yes, we are together. I did move in here, and we did have another baby," Eddie said.

"What was that last part?" Will asked.

"Oh, we had another baby!" Eddie exclaimed with a grin. "She's probably up from her nap by now. I'm going to go get her."

They all watched as Eddie disappeared down the hall, and they turned to look at Steve.

"Is your boyfriend on something?" Erica asked.

"No!" Steve scoffed.

Eddie grinned as he walked back into the living room with Raven in his arms.

"Meow." Father is lucky that I was already awake.

"Introducing Raven Metallica Harrington," Eddie said proudly. "I came up with the middle name."

"Aww," everyone said, and crowded around Eddie.

Raven sniffed Max and jumped into her arms.

"Meow." I have a feeling that this one is going to be my favorite sibling.

Steve whispered what Raven said in his ear, and they giggled as they watched the kids sit on the couch, taking turns with the cat. Every family looks a little weird and a little different to everyone. There's not a single one that's the same, and as long as they make you happy, it's the only thing that matters. Steve was very happy with the family that he had now.

"Hey, Steve, can we babysit when you and Eddie go out on a date?!" Dustin asked.

"Oh, how the tables have turned," Eddie cackled.

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steve is such a mom #i love the joke #its never not funny #steve can talk to animals #steve's pronouns: he/she/they #genderfluid steve harrington #the party #brief appearance of #robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates #platonic with a capital p #brief mention of #stranger things vickie #rovickie #rockie

[happysparklingshadows]

A Certain Hunger (3/?)

Chapter 2 ✿ Chapter 4

Summary: Everyone is trying their best out in the woods, and it’s paying off with finding the lake and then finding an old cabin. The only problem is that every step you take you are reminded how dire the situation with the sense of dread a mummy in the attic gives. 

Pairing: Surviving!Poly! Yellowjackets x reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Description of Death and Suicide, internalized homophobia, General emotional distress, and getting kissed while your eyes are closed.

Taglist: @g1rlsriot @zhivaxo @icabrth @h-doodles @somethingred7 @mika-kc @frasersgf @yaakooi @vstblrblog @jax1118 @oakwave @mmiah @dvrkhcld @wandasmainho @thewinterlunarhalo @vstblrblog @bbbexee

Word count: 14.3

‘96

The forest air was crisp and fresh as twigs snapping under your weight-birds' chirping in the trees above. It was very peaceful in an odd way for you. You have only been out in the woods for three days now, and although you were anxious about when the rescue team would find you the entire time, the environment was overwhelmingly beautiful and familiar. It's just a North American Forest with all the usual creatures like back home in New Jersey. All the lush green and brown overcome your senses with the natural odor of the wild it was comforting and made you think of your dad. It felt like you were with him somehow as you and Taissa walked through the brush to find a water source early in the morning. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, letting it out. 

“Doing yoga over there?” Taissa teased as she walked beside you on the unbeaten path of the forest ahead of you. A breeze hits you both in the direction you are walking.

You chuckle and shake your head to her, “No, I am just taking in the smell. The deep forest has a smell to it. It has like this rich dirt and plant smell.”

Taissa scoffs and shakes her head at your words, and she doesn’t understand why you are so calm about the woods. Tai was trying her best not to freak out about the fact she was currently trapped in the wilderness, and she just looked over to you and saw you just calmly walking in the greenery. “I never saw you as an outdoorsy kind of girl.”

“I’m not.” You say, very tired of the topic with the other girls. “You know me, and I am more into Journalism.”

“Yeah,” Taissa says as she looks over at you, pointing a finger, she remembers as she says, “Aren’t you going to NYU for journalism?”

You chuckle and look to your feet, seeing a familiar vine slowing your walking. “Yeah, I mean, go into where your good. I think I am pretty good at journalism.”

“Wanna be like Jay Lenno?” Taissa asked as she followed your movements, her eyes scanning around to see why you slowed down. “What?”

You point to the ground, and you crouch down to the vine. You follow the vine a few inches, and white berries with black that hang gently from a black vine. “Tai, Look," You urge with a wave of your hand to Tai. Taissa looks over your shoulder as you explain, "These are Rabit food berries, at least that is what my dad calls them, and are poisonous but can be used for bail for anything.” You say as you start to pick off the white berries. “Good news is that they normally grow around water. So, hopefully, we are close.”

“Oh, foesue,” Taissa says as she leans down and looks at the berry. She takes one in her hand and investigates the little thing. “These are called Rabbit food?”

“Not formally. But that is what my dad calls them.”

“You’re dad knows a lot about this stuff.”

You forced a smile and nodded; you didn't want to talk about your dad. 

As you stand up, a sharp pain shoots through your neck, and it causes you to yelp, "Ow!".

"You okay?" Taissa asked with her eyebrows furrowed in concern. You still have black eyes from the crash, and you still look like you took a beating. 

"It's okay. It's just my neck is still sore. Please don't worry about it." You sigh as you put the white berries in the bandana Natalie gave you that first night. Taissa and you both walk forward toward the breeze with more confidence that you will find water.

You and Tai had a somewhat complicated relationship. Tai was second to become valedictorian, and you always seemed competitive. Tai would ask you what you got on tests and essays, comparing the results to see how to spark more rivalry. There wasn’t much there, to begin with. Still, fighting with someone with your wit was fun because there would be no other competition if it were about physical ability. Taissa never took things too far with how you two fought for the top spot. Tai bit her tongue when it was called over the intercom two weeks earlier that you were the one giving the speech at graduation. Taissa wanted to break her pencil because she had worked so hard and never got to be better than you, but she always knew you were a worthy opponent. Taissa was your friend like the other senior yellowjackets. Still, your relationship was more superficial with her than with Shauna or even Misty Quigley. There was an air of performance and a level of standoffishness.

“Congratulations on the Valedictorian spot again,” Taissa says softly to you. You were always so pretty to her.

“Thank you, Tai!” you said happily. You were very proud of yourself for that, and you look over to her and say, “I guess it’s pretty good that we both are here to make sure everyone’s head screwed on right.”

Taissa chuckles at your joke as the both of you see the lake off on the horizon on the hill. It looked like someone would have to go down the hillside, and a few miles past a little more forest, you would get to the shore. Taissa doesn’t say anything before she runs ahead of you, closer to the hill's edge.

You sigh as your feet beg you to stop moving and lie down. You needed to keep moving, and you needed to make sure everyone was okay. You had reminded yourself of everything your father said in passing on your many trips, and you knew a big one was water and then shelter on the list. The last couple of days has made you more adventurous than you ever like to be, as you had to do something as the anxiety was eating you alive. You speedwalk behind the very fast Tai, who stopped at the treeline that dropped off into a beach.

“If it weren’t so deep in these woods, it would be a private beach,” you thought as you panted behind Taissa. The air was sweet and relaxed with the breeze of the tide, and it didn’t stop the drop of sweat that rolled down your neck.

“Fucking finally,” You sigh out with a groan. You look around the water and see lily pads a little ways off, and on the side are rocks that a small turtle rests on. The lake looks promising and has everything that the group needs right now.

Taissa doesn’t show much emotion toward the water; more of a confirmation of its existence. She turns back and pulls your arm to walk the other 6 miles back to the plane. You while as you follow behind her, she says, “We have to tell the others and move camp there.”

You felt yourself pause a little bit at the way she said that. It sounded like a demand, and injured people couldn’t travel this distance without the whole team working together. There was a confirmed 15 people alive from the plane crash, luckily, all your friends survived with some injuries, but 4 of them were working with painful wounds. Ashely, a sophomore, was burned so badly on her face that her cheek is producing puss now; Misty is sure it is third-degree. Ashely has been in and out of pain and can’t walk even though she is fully intact, and couch Ben is working with one less leg.

“Tai, I don’t think we should move so quickly.” You say as you walk behind her, both determined to meet the others.

Tai scoffs and looks over her shoulder with a narrowed eye, “Why’s that? We’re running out of food and water by the hour.”

“Yes, but people aren’t going to do it so quickly. We have to think about the injured-”

“We’ll carry them, and we can’t stay put, (y/n).”

You roll your eyes as you say a little more transparently, “Tai, you are not going to make people want to move with that approach.” she stops herself to look at you. She is annoyed, and you can sense that you sigh and explain, “People are still in shock, okay? A fucking Plane crash happened, and no one has fucking found the box. Everyone is emotional about it still, and we cannot come at them like it’s a demand. Everything is different now, and we all need some time.”

“Then, they can stay there until rescue gets here.” She stood firm. She put her hands on her hips as she looked at you with a tilted head.

You feel yourself get even more frustrated, and you start to say with a sterner voice, “We’re not leaving anyone behind. We are leaving altogether or staying together, Tai; there is no other way it will work.”

“Okay, what do you think we should do if you think my idea is bullshit.”

“I don’t think your idea is bullshit, but it is insensitive to the people who just fucking lost everything.” You whisper yell to her, not even wanting the chance that someone could hear your argument from the camp. “The guys lost their dad, and we all lost someone we knew in the crash, Tai. People are emotional, and people are scared. We have to be united when we tell them about the water. We introduce it gently and let them all decide when to go.” Tai grew quiet as she looked at you, watching you continue. ”I think we should hold a vote on when we should go because you are right,” You nod to her, and Tai seems slightly taken back that you would tell her, “I think we should move to the lake.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We need to bury the bodies.” You remind as you walk up a slight incline in the path. “We can leave after we bury them or tomorrow morning. It’s not a question that we are going.”

“So, the ones that want to stay have to move with us.” Taissa agreed with a slight nod of her head. She then says as if it was a little painful. “You’re right.”

“Okay, So we will do that.” You diplomatically ask her again for confirmation before you start planning your morning announcements to the team. “We have food and water now; We need to build a shelter of some kind.”

“You think we will be here that long to need it?”

“No, I hope we won’t.” You say back, your voice trying to stay positive. “But what if a storm comes by? We’re not in a good place for that, even with the plane, which I don’t think I would even want to step in again.”

“Agreed… But how do we build a shelter? We'll make a teepee or something?”

“I am thinking like dig out and skinny fallen tree logs because this place is covered with them. And figure it out together because I don’t know everything.”

Taissa chuckle and shakes her head. She sarcastically says, “I don’t think that is true.”

“Trust me, I don’t.” You chuckle back and continue your way back to camp.

After walking for another 30ish minutes on your aching feet, you finally reach the group. Excited and happy to finally have some good news for them.

Van, Laura Lee, Travis, and Natalie have been working for a few days on digging pits. Today they were digging the last ones, trying to give their friends and even the people they didn’t know a “right” burial, as Laura Lee had Insisted we give them. A few days earlier, She came to the group while you were giving a morning announcement and said that anyone that is “abled body needs to help because this is the right thing to do. God would want us to do it, and I think even they would want us to do that.”.

And you did. How could you tell Laura Lee she was wrong?

You're panting as you stop walking and lean against a tree by the primary fire. The other girls work on their little things, discuss what they plan for the summer, and other helping others feel better with their wounds. Another pain shoots through your neck again as you turn it too quickly to the left to look around. You calm your breathing from your long hike and feel yourself have enough air to be okay again.

“Okay, let’s eat before I start talking.” You announce to the team as you pull out the ration box, and Van follows behind you, kneeling down to take inventory.

“This is all we have?” Jackie asks.

“Yeah,” Van says.

“We just have to ration. We split everything in half and eat until we don’t feel hungry. Let’s cut them up.” You say, reassuring everyone. You smile and say, “These are really calorie dense, so we will be okay."

Van comes closer to Shauna and shows her how to cut the rations. Shauna is listening to this very intently, and she starts to cut. You hand the water bottle to Akilah and say, “Split the water up evenly."

Shauna says to Jackie beside you, “Close your eyes and pretend it’s bacon.”

Jackie eats it; happily, she always was a food person. You remember when you were in middle school, and her mother passed out from too much Xanax, so Jackie cooked a late-night dinner that would make her mom go crazy to see her eating more than an almond before bed. Jackie made pizza out of dough in the fridge and stuff lying around, and to this day, you think it was the best pizza you ever had. You chuckle as you eat your share of the Mary cakes.

“I am more of a pancakes and syrup girl.” Jackie jokes as she finishes her breakfast of a Mary Cake. You chuckle and nod, “I am feeling pancakes too, Jackie. Shauna is just a carnivore.” You joke.

Shauna purses her lip and holds in a laugh at the joke, shaking her head. Jackie laughed and nodded, “You remember when Shauna ate that burger the size of your head?”

You all laugh at the joke, and you nod your head. You feel your first moment of ease. You didn’t feel pain in your neck and in your heart. Shauna laughed this time and covered her mouth, “Oh my god, it was like she unhinged her jaw!” You reminisce and laugh.

Jackie starts to scratch her thigh again, and both you and Shauna give her a look.

“Hey, Misty said, don’t scratch. It can get infected.”

“If poison Ivy’s what kills me out here, then I deserve to die.” Jackie joked. You pushed her arm and gave her another look.

“Hey, no pessimism. You’re too tough to die from poison Ivy… But please don’t go to the bathroom before you wash your hands.” You warned lightly with a chuckle.

“What will happen if I go to the bathroom, (Y/n)?”

“You will get it on your pussy girl.” You say curtly because you didn’t want to sugarcoat poison ivy on your vagina. “It would be excruciating.”

“Would you know?”

“No, I am not stupid, though.” You chuckle and smile at her. You take a drink of your water and eat some berries. Unaware behind you that Travis was stealing more than his share.

“Hey!” Akilah says to him as he walks over to her and steals a whole Mary cake.

“What are you doing?” Van asks.

“Uh, maybe you didn’t notice, but we’re in a situation here, Flex.” Lottie insults as Travis walks off with a whole Mary Cake instead of a half one. 

“Don’t,” Natalie warns sharply.

Travis turns back and glares at all of us.

“Who died and made him king of snacks?” Lottie whispers to the group.

“His dad, Lottie. His fucking dad.”

“Nat’s right. We should cut him some slack.” Jackie remarked to the group.

“I guess it’s fine if we all starve to death as long as Travis’s feelings are okay.” Mari sassed. 

“We’re not gonna starve to death. Okay? When the rescue team gets here-”

“IF it gets here.” Van cuts in on Jackie to make her point of pessimism.

“Okay, we’re not going say that.” You sharply say to Van. She looks up at you, surprised you spoke up at the moment. You shared a look of her telling you that you can’t say that, and you continued to speak. “We’re not going to kill the hope around here, okay? We must be there for each other right now, but we must be smart. Travis will not do that again because we need to ration. You’re right, Mari. But look around, you guys,” You stop to put your arms out like your dad once did when you were young. Everyone looks around like you said, “It’s summer in a fertile forest. We’ll be okay. We just need to be smart.”

You say as you put your backpack on your shoulders and look at the others. You stand up and say, “We’re all we have right now. We all survived a plane crash. We’re all on edge and emotional. We all must acknowledge that and try not to take things personally until the rescuers come, okay? Because I am a fucking wreck right now, and I know you all are too. We can do nothing but work together and be there for each other. Let’s try our best and be nice to each other now because if anyone will ever understand what we are going through is except each other.”

“Okay, Let’s do it,” Jackie says as she looks up to you with a smile. The others agreed with some groans and complaints, but they agreed.

“Okay, everyone, on another subject, Me and Taissa found a lake when we went out this morning. We saw it over the hill and thought we knew how to get to it from there. It looks about four or five miles away.”

“Do you think we can hike it, (Y/n)?” Shauna asks skeptically.

“Yes, We need to help Coach Ben and take turns carrying him, but we can make it. It’s a little rocky and goes uphill a few times, but yeah.” You say with a smile and look around the team. All seem ready to move and get some distance from the plane; however, Jackie is seemingly fighting with herself about how she will speak. “But, I want to leave it to the team to decide when we should go. We need to go to the water, but should we go after the burial or tomorrow morning?”

“Uh, we, uh, we can’t-we can’t just leave,” Jackie spoke as she awkwardly rose from her spot. She is hesitant.

“Jackie, I know it is scary. But we only have two days of water and don’t have enough food to go around. If it takes them a while to find us, they'll look for the closest body of water for us.”

“But what if the rescue team comes?”

“We’ll leave an SOS on the plane saying we are at the lake and make an SOS on the lake to let them know we are here.” You said before Taissa was going to speak. You didn’t want to kill hope; you didn’t want to kill your own, you just kept it together like you know how.

“What do you think, Coach?” Laura Lee asked him. You follow her voice to him, and you see Misty beside him.

“I don’t-I don’t know,” He says, “I mean, you’d have to leave me behind, I guess, but whatever-”

“That is ridiculous. That is never going to happen.” You shut him down and continued on to your point. “We will build a stretcher out of what we have lying around. Misty took a first-aid class, and they have shown you how to do it, right?”

Misty’s eyes widened that you were speaking to her in the circle like she was important. She smiled shyly and, slightly embarrassed, said, “Kinda-”

“Then we will make one and take turns-”

Jackie laughs in disbelief that we are still talking about leaving. “No. This-This is bullshit. No. No way.”

“Okay, fine. All in favor of waiting here until we don’t have any water?” You say, still twisting it to go to the lake. No one but Jackie raises their hand, she looks over to Shauna, and she doesn’t still. Jackie lost control of you, and now Shauna. She looks around, and no one does. Eventually, Mari and Laura Lee raise their hands.

“All in favor of going to the lake?” You say you raise your hand as Taissa beside you does as well. Everyone else raises their hand.

You nod your head and say as Jackie quiets herself in anger. “Alright, we’re going to the lake. All in favor of leaving tomorrow.”

Jackie, Laura Lee, Mari, Coach Ben, and Misty raise their hands.

“All in favor of leaving after the burial?”

Everyone else raises their hand. You nod again. “Alright, we are leaving after the burial. The vote is in. Let’s pack up our things, eat before we leave, get anything we can, and we will all help Misty with the stretcher. Okay?”

Everyone says “Yes,” “Sure,” and nods. Everyone leaves to do their jobs as Jackie seems to sulk away, and Shauna, knowing she angered Jackie, goes off to help Misty.

You look over to Jackie, who is sulking and feel really bad. It felt like a pit was growing just a little more in your stomach.

“Jackie-”

“Leave me alone.”

“I’m not like that, Jackie, you know that,” you say as you sit beside her. She is having a hard time right now, and you know she is more anxious than anything. You always knew how to talk to Jackie. “I’m sorry that we have to leave the plane.”

“I don’t think we should go. What if they get here and we’re not here?”

“Well, We’ll make a sign on the plane that we’re at the lake, and then we can make a sign at the lake. If anything, they could see the shore of a lake more than in these dense woods.” You say and look up to the leaves, it’s tough to see the sky, and even with the trees that cleared for the plane, the sky was not clear. Just the ribbons of light that sneaked in between the leaves. “Look up.”

Jackie looks up and looks at the trees. “A rescue plane or helicopter would have difficulty seeing the crash because it would look like a natural opening instead of a crash landing. But if there is a big opening and three signs, we were here. They will know we are here, you know.” You reassure.

Jackie nods but still looks conflicted. She itches her under the thigh and just sighs, “Fine. Whatever.”

“It sucks, I know…” You say as you look at her hand travel to her thigh. You then say, “Do you have anything for that? Do you want me to take a look to see what it is-”

“No, It’s fine.” Jackie declared and looked at you pointedly with her big eyes.

“Okay…” You say, but you move to your bag next to her, pull out your bottle of lotion and put it at her feet. You get up and move to see what you can do before the burial.

Jackie sighed as she took your lotion and put it on her thigh, it was Eczema cream, and it soothed the poison ivy on the back of her knee and thigh. She sighed in relief and felt more at ease with her childhood friend, “Still in the trio.” Jackie thought as she reluctantly spread the moisturizer on her rash.

Van, Misty, and you finish placing the last pile of dirt on the dead. Your hands felt like everything you touched was a dream. Almost everything was surreal. Even the greens around you seemed alien right now, and you didn’t have the will to speak. “Not now, not right now.” You remind yourself as you pat the dirt on Coach Ben’s leg. Tears fell mindlessly down your cheeks. You didn’t have the strength to hold back your tears, wordlessly putting the makeshift shovel onto the ground and standing next to Shauna and Jackie.

“Before we took off, I heard Reachel say she would see Oasis at the meadowlands next month. She was really excited… And she is never gonna hear “Wonderwall” again.” Van spoke when we all stood around the homemade gravestones made from scrap metal.

“Come on.” Laura Lee gently urged everyone. “Let’s join hands. We’ll pray for them. ”

You grab onto Shauna’s hand, feeling the soft skin of her palm and fingers as you squeeze her for comfort as she does the same. A familiar ritual of you ever since you two were children, holding and comforting. You hold Jackie’s clammy delicate hand, she squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back. Holding the hands of the girls you played with in the sandbox when you were just a little girl felt more reassuring than you thought. Seeing your closest friends were safe and holding hands together made you feel so much relief. Knowing that so many people, 23, have died in a crash that should have killed you all sobered your happiness.

“Rachel, you just moved up from JV, so we didn’t know you. But, in Trig, you never confuse your secants and your cosecants. You seemed really smart. Anyone else?”

“I saw her carry a flute case once,” Van blurted out.

“She wore Revlon Goldpearl Plum. She let me borrow it at Homecoming last year.” You added as fat tears rolled down your plumb cheeks.

“Oh, Lord, please accept Reachel Goldman into your arms so she may fill your kingdom with music.” Laura Lee said with closed eyes, and yu felt your heartbreak at those words. Rachel’s family probably would have agreed with Laura Lee and would have been happy to know people cared for her enough to give her a respectful burial. Still, they didn’t know she had died. They’re probably hoping she is alive, thinking that somehow like you, she was standing fine, just needing to be found, but it would never happen. You felt a sob nest in your chest. “Please accept Coach Martinez into your glory, too—and flight attendant Janet, Pilot Robert, and Pilot Fred. And the people we didn’t know the names of, please allow them everlasting peace. Even though I walk through the Valley of the shadow of death, take them into your kingdom, Father. Reunite them in your love. Amen.”

Everyone prayed, “Amen.”

Taissa left the circle alone, and everyone started packing for the journey to the lake.

‘21

Shauna

Jeff is cheating on me, and he is telling me anything. Just keeps saying that he is staying back for the data inventory. 

You

Okay 

You 

Wow

You 

You need to get proof. I would follow him and see what is up. And if he is, then you get even girl. 

Shauna

You read my mind lol 

Shauna

By the way, Callie wants to know what you think of her Instagram post.

Shauna

I don’t really know what she is talking about?

You

Girl, she looked great. I didn’t comment on it like I normally do lol! Tell her I think she looks gorgeous in purple! 

Shauna

What did she post?

You

A coffee shop pic with her boyfriend. She was wearing a little purple sundress!!! 

You 

Very pretty!! 💕🫶✨

You

Go on Instagram and like it for her

Shauna

Girl what

You

You are too attached to Facebook 

Shauna 

Don’t tell me what I am 

You 

Shauna, you need to use other social media to see all your cute daughter's pictures and stalk her location.

Shauna

You can do that???

You

Fuck yeah, why do you think I have a fucking Instagram lol

Shauna

Does Jeff have one? 

You 

It looks like you got a lead Shipmen Xxx

“(Y/n), your quiet back there? How is your dating life going?”

Natalie scoffed and looked over to Misty in the passenger seat. You sat behind Natalie in the car with your attention on your phone. You used yourself as a buffer for Misty to talk to and for Natalie to speak when she wanted to, but it seemed very noticeable when you silenced yourself.

“Um… Happily single right now and longtime committed to my purple rabbit.” You joke to Misty as you put your phone in your purse.

Natalie chuckled at your comment, and Misty seemed unhappy with how vulgar you were.

“Seriously, you haven’t been out dating anyone? You look amazing for your age.” Misty reassured you that it was why you were not looking out there. Acting like she didn’t know why you were so closed off from ever having to learn another person intimately again and why you would naturally be turned off from it.

“I know I do. My tits still sit on the top of my chest, just sometimes when I sit down, they hit my stomach.” You joke again about age with the two other women. Both laughing at the truth of the comment, Misty snorts a little and fixes her classes. “Tell me about it!” Misty laughed.

“How long till, uh, we get to Travis’s?” Natalie cut in and asks, clearly not enjoying her time in the car with either of you.

"Uh, Three hours and 24 minutes,” Misty reports, and Natalie sighs deeply at the answer. “I-I totally get it. You know, not dating anyone right now. At our age, it’s like all the available ones are crumbs at the bottom of a chip bag.” Misty chuckles. Misty looks down at her phone and says a soft, “Oh. Mostly.”

Natalie scoffs as Misty texts the other person on the phone, “Got a whole chip?”

You chuckle at that, and you see her eyes looking in the review mirror at you. Your eyes meet for a second.

“Just a friend. For now.” Misty chuckles, then laughs softly as she texts the other person at the end.

You looked out the window as you watched the trees passing you by, not hearing any more of the conversation that had lulled now. You felt happy that Misty found someone. But you wanted to cut the person's throat on the other end. Would they hurt Misty? Make Fun of her? The thought of Misty getting used or taken advantage of makes you feel a part of you digress and growl. Something primal and not right, but you can’t stop how familiar it all feels and how safe you are in Its presence.

Natalie drives to a gas station before you can cut yourself out of your thoughts. You remain quiet as your phone vibrates with more texts from Shauna. You couldn’t muster the will to look down at them right now.

“I’m starving,” Natalie says as she takes the keys out of the car. “You want to go grab something while I gas up?” Natalie asked. Her voice gave off the edge and some kind of motive behind them. And Misty was too smart not to catch that.

“Oh!” Misty says and fixes her glasses, “Well, I don’t know what you like. Maybe you should come with me,” She smoothly lied.

You slightly smirk because you knew from reading the room that Misty was scared that you and Natalie would ditch her.

“Chocolate’s good.” Natalie bluntly stated. It didn’t ease the tension.

“Um. well, there’s dark and milk and white.” Misty listed

“Surprise me.” Natalie smoothly stated as she looked Misty down a little. Her black-lined eyes give her a sharper tilt to her gaze. She looked like she could take a bite right out of you.

“Okay,” Misty said very fakely. It caused you to chuckle and grab the back of the headrest of her seat. You lean forward and touch her shoulder.

“I’d like some spicy peanuts and maybe something salty.”

Misty grimaces as she looks at you with a pointed look, “Spicy food? We have another 6 hours on the road there and back. Let alone the time we will spend seeing Travis!” Misty countered you.

You raise an eyebrow and say, “That was very rotten of you to say that.”

“That was not rotten to say that- you know what! I will get you something good.” Misty says as she exits the car, looking cautiously at Natalie again.

Natalie scoffs as she sees Misty walk away, and she immediately starts looking into the glove box of the minivan.

“Okay.” Natalie mocks as she starts to look around the car as Misty walks into the station

“What did she do?” You chuckle humorlessly as you lean against the leather seat.

Natalie doesn’t speak to you as she looks in the front and into the glove box. She pulled out a car plug that had the words Porsche on them.

“Fucking knew it.” She whispers to herself and throws it back. She looks at you and says, “She fucking took my spark plug.”

‘What?!” You say as you lean back up forward.

“Misty can’t be trusted… That little snake.” Natalie sighs to you as she turns to look at you.

“When has anyone trusted that Misty Quigley wouldn’t do something crazy for attention.” You lamented with her; you took a deep breath and told her in the sense of trust between you two. “You should have known better than letting her think you want her back in some way.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. And because you did, I did. So here we are.”

“I didn’t need you to come to save me. Just back off. I am here to check on Travis, and you can go back to your fucking cave.”

“You shouldn’t have let on you were looking for him, you gave Misty enough to follow you, and you should know better. We all know your dirt, and we all know you, whether you like it or not. You are a fucking bomb waiting to go off, and you have been running away for a long time.” You hiss at her and look at her sharply in the eyes. Her baby blue eyes stare back at yours. An old familiar primal surge comes over you as you feel like you have been in this moment before. 

“Well, I don’t need any fucking help, and I don’t need you telling me about Misty Fucking Quigley.” Natalie spat at you as she left the car with a slam of the door.

You sat in the car with pursed lips. You didn’t like the energy that was in the car anymore. You didn’t know why you had an outburst like that with her. But how fucking dare she talk to you like that. You have been kind to her, and she has been an asshole to you all day; you have had it.

Misty returns to the car with a grocery bag and jerky in the other. Misty chats with Natalie outside the car before she comes into the car with a snarl.

“Someone is in a bad mood.”

“A fucking horrible mood.”

“Do you need to curse so much?”

“What did you get me, baby cakes?” You changed the subject as you looked over her shoulder. She hands you two bags and an icy bottle of water. It is honey-roasted peanuts and Chipotle Jerky. You smile because at least she got you something spicy, and a craving was honored; she was very kind in her odd way.

“Aw, Misty, this is perfect, thank you. You’re right. I would have had a stomach ache if I ate all the spicy nuts.”

“I know.”

“Shh. Silence.”

Misty chuckles as she takes another bite of her jerky. You rip open your bag and greedily take the spiced meat to pieces into your hand. You sink your teeth into the dried beef as the strains separate in your mouth, with each muscle strain salted and flavorful. It was sweetly smoked by some kind of wood as the cayenne and chili danced on your tongue. It was similar to a Mexican taco you had in upstate New York that wasn’t that authentic but something that made you come back for more. You moan as you relish in the guilty pleasure of still loving a good piece of jerky even after everything that happened. Sometimes your thoughts haunt you. “What if I liked it?” you thought sometimes as you chewed down on the juicy meat that reminded you of them.

“Misty, try some.”

“I don’t like spicy food, honey.” Misty’s voice was plain with reticence as she took the meat from your fingers.

“Try it, please, Misty.” You say a little sweeter, and you eat another yourself.

Misty takes the piece into her mouth as Natalie enters the car; she sided eyes both of you as she says, “Jerky, really?”

“Yeah, it’s good.” You say back to her with an old tone you had thought you had lost. It felt odd having two of your old friends back, and it made some things come out of you again.

“Your right, honey; that is not bad.”

“Right!”

‘96 

Soon after the burial, people grouped up and prepared to leave from the plane to the lake. You walked in the back with Jackie, for a while, and Mari. The beginning of your hike was comprised of Mari talking to you and Jackie about Theo Stevens in her Bio class, who has been giving her a lot of side eyes, which as a good friend you feed into her fantasy that he was “so checking her out.”

The hike took as long as you remember, but it seemed longer for the whining of Jackie and Mari, who seemed to bond significantly on the trip through their complaints. Every step felt like a mile. Sores on your heels and big toe, but you didn’t even have the energy to voice your pain. You can see Coach Ben struggling for the last 40 minutes with Misty and Marissa ahead of you, the two girls having trouble moving him. It felt like complaining about a hang nail to someone with a bullet wound; it didn’t stop Jackie and Mari, but it sure as fuck stopped you.

After a while, you and Taissa were sure you were off the trail you found earlier, but you were going in the same direction; you two came to the conclusion that you all would “eventually get to the lake.”. Tai insisted that she would keep leading the hiking party and she could do her own thing with Van beside her. 

Every other minute, You take your pocket knife and cut a heart on the trees to make a guide back to the plane, and suddenly a rotten horrendous smell comes to your nose. You gag to yourself but caught the ears of Jackie and Mari behind you. 

“What?” Jackie huffed as she looked over your shoulder to see your twisted face.

“I don’t know, You don’t smell that?” You ask.

Lottie and Jackie, now even Tai notice that the back has stopped. “Smell what?”

“I don’t know-” You started and were cut off by Natalie.

“Holy shit.” She says, taken back. You look at what she is talking about as all the yellowjackets walk forward, a gutted bear. The sound of flies and maggots comes to your ear before your eyes can register what is in front of you as you all continue hiking. The chest of the black bear was torn open down to its navel, small and large intestines sprawled out of the wound with semi-dried blood seeping out of the pores of the organs, innards from up in the cavity shredded down to the bottom. The beast was abused by whatever killed it before it died from the exposed flesh under the thick brown fur. A crow proudly sits on top the dead animal, picking on the remaining leftovers of meat. 

“Oh, God, I’m gonna puke,” Jackie complained as she walked behind you.

“What could have done that?” Shauna queried the group, her brown eyes looking straight at the bear. Worry set in her eyes.

“Probably wolves. They move in packs and fight in packs. Nothing can survive them. Not even a bear.” You say, offhandedly, something not too problematic because it was only natural for wolves to be in these woods. You kept walking.

“They can kill a fucking bear?” Natalie was amazed and horrified.

“Oh, yeah. Wolves can kill anything if its pack is big enough.” You say your eyes haven’t moved an inch from the bloody bear. You blink a few times before you snap out of it. You start to lead the hiking team, “Let’s get moving. We’re almost to the water.”

“What do we do if wolves come, (Y/n)?” Misty asks you. She stares at the bear before looking forward again. Everyone seemed to be engrossed with the brutal proof of nature’s violence, it’s ugly and gross, but it was real. It seemed more natural to you than you being in those woods.

“We are a big pack ourselves. We would probably scare them away if we sitck together. Let’s not get too worried… We should only worry if it’s a pack of 30 or something.”

“Very comforting.” Natalie snarked as she walked ahead of you. And you didn’t have the energy to say anything more. You just look at your feet and walk, letting yourself be quiet momentarily.

The woods always had that kind of power. They make you still for a few moments to just breathe and let it in. It makes you think clearer because of the green, or the breeze, of the freedom in the trees. It used to make you quiet and grateful for the peaceful views, but only now, it seems to ground you differently.

You miss your mom and dad. You miss your mom a lot and just want to call her. To tell her that everything was okay, that you were okay. That everything was just a stupid mistake and you were alive, and coming home in a few days. Your mom should have taken her medicine a few hours ago, and what if your dad couldn’t give it to her? What if your dad was off at work, and they both don’t know anything yet? They will find out in a few days when none of you return. Or do they know this story? Is it all over the news with your parents demanding answers, worried sick about you? You know how much they love you and how much this hurts them because it is hurting you. It hurts more than your black eyes and your achy neck.

A sinking hole.

It felt like a dreading hole that burrowed into your chest. It felt neverending, and it caused your breathing to hurt.

Worst of all, when you felt the sharp jolt of pain of neck when you moved your head to the side too much or too fast, was becoming overbearing. Every deep breath or pant causes a pain to spread down your upper back. It was getting to you as you felt a thump with every step. You wanted to float in the water; sweat was on your brow and collecting in your shirt.

You just kept walking with your eyes on your shoes, looking at the moss and dead leaves, when your thoughts wandered. Thankfully, Van stopped your thoughts by finding the lake and screaming for everyone to follow her.

“Come On, Let’s go!” She squeals with the others. Shauna, Jackie and you just followed behind with a second wind of excitement. It felt like running with marbles in your shoes at this point, but you couldn’t seem to care as the water welcomed you with open arms from the Sun’s heat. Van starts ripping off her shirt as she runs in front of you. She takes the scrunchie out of her hair and haphazardly throws it with her shirt. You start laughing out of happiness, and before you can even think, before the words of your father come to mind, you take off your backpack and throw your luggage with it. You stop at your personal pile, snatch off your shirt, and tug off your bottoms.

Behind you were the girls that ran past you. Their eyes seemed to be engrossed by the view in their way. Many have known you for a long time, some from childhood, and they have never seen your body. Brown, green, and blue eyes are all seen to scan you as the first- and second-year students happily stripped to swim in the lake. The girls didn’t know what to do besides study the curve of your side, the way your body naturally plumped in places. It was beautiful. The way that your back seemed more sensual from this angle of your bending down to put down your shirt, then when you sway your hips side to side to tug the bottoms off of yourself, seemed to make a reaction out of some of them.

Misty, helping bring Coach Ben to the shore, felt a mass tingling at the sight alone. She saved the image in her mind forever. Shauna swimming out with Lottie, Laura Lee, and Van all seemed to lull their splashing as they tried to call to you but were silenced by how your skin looked bare in the sun for a second.

Shauna was breathless and nervous, guilty of what she did and what she felt for Jackie. Now something new came over her for you again. She wanted to bury it like she buried her feelings for Jackie. Shauna looks away quickly.

Lottie studied you without shame; she always knew of the pneumatic way your body was shaped and hidden underneath your clothes. However, she was ashamed of herself and didn’t want anyone to see her seeing you like that. She thought they would see she was in love with you with just one look.

As you pass Jackie, Mari, and Natalie, when Travis splashes them with the cold water, saying a blunt, “Travis, no one likes you.” before diving into the cold lake. Natalie scanned down your body. She has always admired you and your kindness, but as you made fun of Travis it made something tug in Natalie’s chest. Nat always knew that if there was a girl she would be with, it was you. She cowardly looks away and talks to Jackie and Mari. Natalie hides in the conversation with them about Travis. How he is hot, Natalie disagrees and wants to say something about you but bites her tongue.

You swim over to Shauna, Lottie, and Van and splash water onto them. Giggling and laughing out of control. You start playing tug of war in the water with Shauna on your shoulders. Shauna sightly squeezes her thighs and muffles your ears, she feels you against her, and she quickly moves to her position like she is adjusting her seat on your shoulders.

You and Van hold eye contact; she smiles at you widely and happily. Her emerald eyes shine back into your (e/c) eyes, and a small conversation is shared without words. It was just a little humor between you two, it made you happy, even when you and Shauna were pushed back into the water. Van is laughing and loving spending time with you but is happier that she won. Vanessa and Taissa share a look together, as Taissa rebraids Akilah’s hair. For a long time, they had been together, and for a long time, you seemed to be the only subject the two seemed to avoid speaking about. But when Van looks over to Taissa, who was checking you out just as much as Van was, the two seem to realize something at that moment.

You swim away with Lottie after everyone gets tired from playing. You two just float lazily in the water, holding hands. You feel relaxed for the first time in days, and the neck pain subsides. Lottie lets go of your hand to swim slightly off, but she stops. Standing on the sand with her toes buried into it to stand firm as she watched something in the distance, you stood yourself and saw a shining reflection of something in the trees.

“Guys!” Lottie shouts. She points with a wary smile, “Look.”

Everyone sees what you see. It’s a cabin up the hill to the left. It felt like some kind of prayer was answered this morning. It makes you smile and laugh manically as you quickly swam back to the shore. The others follow behind you with hope racing through them. You tell everyone as they are on shore.

“Okay, we found something up that hill. It’s some kind of reflections of a window. So, injured, rest here, and we will check it out and see if it is okay to go into. Misty, Uh, honestly, Anyone who isn’t a senior, stay here with the injured and rest. Senior Yellowjackets, Let’s check this place out!” You say excitedly and tell the girls, “We’ll come get you as soon as we know it is safe to go in there.”

“Girls, be careful.” Coach Ben says to you guys as you start running away. He doesn’t care much at the moment was you all run off, he is lost in his own head.

You and the others start running up the hill with your shoes wet from the lake and your clothes sticking to your body from the water. You and the other seniors rush up the incline to what could be the only break you have found in these dense woods.

‘21

As you expected, you were arrested shortly after when Natalie smashed the window of Travis's front door when you got there. It felt wrong going into his home unannounced, let alone breaking in, after not seeing him in decades. Misty was being a little detective and Natalie looked a little emotional looking over her old best friends things. You were out of place, you and Travis have no connection outside of the crash.  It felt like how it did many times out there in the woods, a dulling and distance that you built to cope with the horrors out there. But, it never left you after you were saved. You felt this way sometimes when you get too stressed or sad. You‘re on autopilot and you don't act out of character, even when you are fully checked out. When you check back in after your adrenaline dies down, you were sitting next to Misty and still talking. Misty was talking about her bird, Caligula, and how because he is a Hyacinth Macaw that he couldn't eat most bird seed.  Natalie was out taking her first call. 

“How is your dad doing?” Misty asked next to you. “I heard you put him in a nursing home.”

“Yeah, He started needing medication a lot and constant care. But he is still doing good for a 89 year old.”

Misty nods, “He is a good guy. He always helped me with my car when I came over.”

“I mean, how could he be not friendly to you? You were the one to come over to see his weird daughter.”

“You weren’t weird!” Misty protested and turned to look at you. Her ashy blonde curls bounced. “You were so cool! I came over every night!”

You chuckle, and you bump shoulders with Misty. You say to her, “We were weird together. Thank you for being my friend back then.”

“I am still your friend.”

“I know. I want to be close again.” You confess to her as you look into her brown eyes. She is flustered, and you can tell, “You have no idea how much I missed you in New York, Misty. I didn’t have my friend-” You stop yourself from getting emotional. You remember leaving for NYU in 2002 and how you had to leave your home.

“I-I would like that too.”

“You remember when you fed me soup after my neck surgery?”

Misty chuckled, fixing her glasses, “You spit soup on me.” She laughed.

“You made me laugh!” You giggle at her and lean on her shoulder again. Your neck aches slightly from the angle, but it didn’t hurt like when you were younger.

“Alright, Misty Quigley, you have your phone call.” The police officer cut into the conversation and held Natalie by the arm as he walked her back into the cell. Misty left, and You were left with Natalie.

You feel yourself come back to your body when you realize you will be alone with Natalie again, and right now doesn’t seem like a good time to be chatty.

“I don’t try to be a bomb, you know.” Natalie said to you randomly as she leaned against the wall. She is finally talking about what you said in the car. 

There is a moment you don’t know what to say. You didn’t even know if this is still real anymore. You simply say, “I know you don’t, Nat.”

“You were right. I shouldn’t have given Misty enough to follow me so you and her didn’t have to be in all this mess.”

You look at her with more softness than you want to. You felt a tenderness to the sound of her voice still. After all this time, Natalie still had her way with words to make you miss who she once was. Primal and passionate, with no fear except death. A free time and a time that seemed to linger in the words you spoke together. The roles you played never left your head, even as you saved yourselves in your own ways, and it still lingered in the way you talk together. 

“Uh, I don’t mind.” You joke as you smile at her, trying to make things better. You don’t know why she left you alone that night years ago, and you didn’t even want to know. You want her to be okay. “I would rather be here with you than you be alone.”

Natalie scoffs softly to herself and looks at her shoes, “Don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“You shouldn’t be here. You, out of everyone, don’t need to be here… I'm sorry.”

“All forgiven if you get us out of here.” You say and look over to the cops that work at their desks. You know you should be mad, even vengeful, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel any of that. “I haven’t lived in a while. I have been a hermit for the last 20 years. This doesn’t hurt me too much.”

“All forgiven?” Natalie raised an eyebrow. She looks at you sharply at your choice of words. It seemed to hit something inside of her that she didn’t want to have poked.

“I-I didn’t mean-”

“We’re not there anymore, (Y/n). You don’t have the power to forgive anything. Or anyone.” Natalie said as she felt the need to remind you of your own part in the past. As someone who was ashamed and scared but always forgave others. You made them feel forgiven for something more significant. But you didn’t have the power. You never did. You can’t forgive the sins you all have done.

It eats you whole.

“You’re right. You’re not forgiven, Natalie.” You chided as if you had no control over your tone and words. It felt exposing to have her see through you and see you still holding onto the comfort in your old power. The power in who you thought you were when you 18, with the powers that you all thought you found in the mountains, that had never truly left you. But you know she hasn't let go of the past too. “I don’t have the power to do so, but you have wronged me like many others. You can’t make my forgiveness anything more than it is, You already did that, and it didn’t take you that far, don’t make me your scapegoat again.”

Natalie scoffed as Misty came back with a smile with the same police officer. “Looks like it’s your lucky day. Someone posted your bail.”

You didn’t even feel real. You weren’t supposed to be here.

‘96

Your feet are numb as you try to run stiffly beside the other seniors to the cabin up the hill. The only sign of human hands that have ever touched these woods for what seemed to be thousands of miles. As you all rush to the wooden door, you start screaming, whining, moaning, crying for anyone there to help.

“HELP! HELLO! WE NEED HELP! ANYONE HOME?!” you yell to the cabin. You and Jackie work on the door. You look behind you and see Lottie looking on with horror at the cabin, scared of it.

You and Jackie overpower the door to open with teamwork, and your weight on it. It opens to old dusty decorations and furniture laid out in the space like it was once a home of some kind as you cautiously entered the home.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” Jackie called out into the home.

“Maybe they just went on a hike?” Mari asked behind you, walking further into the home.

“Yeah, like a decade ago.” Jackie sassed. “It reeks in here.”

Cobwebs and a sour smell you couldn’t place lingered in the home. It smelt like old antiques and some kind of leather. The rotten smell of wood or meat from long ago stained the atmosphere. It was creepy and old, with bones of deer on the mantle placed above the fireplace.

“You two, look in the Pantry for any food. Everyone else, look around for stuff we can use,” Taissa says to the girls in the cabin; Travis walks in from the door. “First aid, Flashlights, tools.”

Jackie walks out with a can of beans in her hand. She starts to open it as she walks into the living room. “What the hell? Jackie, that’s not your personal buffet.”

Jackie stills and gags, dropping the rotten beans onto the floor. They shined with a green hue that made you want to gag yourself. “See, this is why we should’ve stayed in the plane!” She snaps to you.

You look at her wide-eyed and say, “Yeah, well, we didn’t. We all decided to leave. A can of rotten beans is why we should have never found the cabin?”

“This is a fucking nightmare.” Jackie storms out of the house with a stomp with every step. She is not having any of this.

You and Shauna share a look, urging her to go follow Jackie. Somethings never ends, like you two always having to comfort jackie after she freaks out. 

From the back of the kitchen, Van calls out to the group with a massive pile of Playboy Magazines before slamming them down onto the dusty kitchen table. Dust flies into the air like smoke from a fire. “Well, hello.” Van comedically calls, “Don’t worry, guys. We might be stuck in the middle of nowhere, but there’s porn.”

You giggle and walk over to the magazines, seeing tits and thin women posing on pages. Not your thing, but seeing boobs and the female form that wasn’t your friends was excellent. “Nice tits.” You say as you scan the pages of the old 1968 issue of Playboy.

“Holy shit,” Mari says as Natalie and Akilah look over Van’s shoulder to view the porn. It was kinda freeing to be so openly entertained by porn with your "normal" friends. The friends don’t feel like their cheeks are burning or that they feel turned on by how some of the girls smile on the paper, but they all seem to like it nonetheless—admiring the beauty of another woman.

Travis looks over, eyeing up what we got, and acts like he is not interested with an unmistakable shine to his eye.

“Hey, this guy kind of looks like you, flex.”

“If only any of you actually looked like her.”

“Well, talking like that is why you are a virgin and will always be a virgin, Travis.” You joke back to him, looking over the pages.

“Do guys, like, actually jerk off to this stuff?” 

“Nah, We-we hate that shit. You know, you can’t even tell what her favorite book is.” Travis lies, trying his best to seem like a sensitive and not meatheaded guy, but at the end of the day he is just some guy who looks boobs. Because you know that you will be touching yourself later to those images, and you don’t doubt he will.

You laugh loudly at his words before he can speak more, or the others can either. You slam the magazine down and wipe a tear that formed from his atrocious acting. Van is trying and failing to hold in her laughs, Mari and Akilah giggling. As you leave them alone, you just snicker, “I’m checking out the pantry.”

You chuckle to yourself as you look around the empty cabinet. In the corner, you find a comforting sight. It was a fishing pole, a fisher box, and two rolls of big fishing line. It looked like something you would find in your dad’s garage. Your dad liked to work in there with his truck. He would handle work at his workbench and play old music on the radio. He fished for a living, always smelt of the sea and cigarettes. The image of your dad sitting on the bench smoking a cigarette as he works on something your mom bought from Goodwill, as he just quietly did his task. Sometimes he would feel you staring at him and let you sit on his lap as he worked, holding his tools, and you just loved sitting against his muscular chest as a kid. You and your dad were best friends when you were little, you were his little helper, and you never were more grateful as you found a food source for everyone. Yeah, the rod is a little rusted and old, but you were sure you could find some oil and something to scrub the rust away.

You, alone, keep looking around the near-empty cabinet, and you notice the stairs that go up to a door for an upper floor. You don’t think much before stepping up the steps, the girls talking and walking around in the other room.

You don’t think much before you put your hand on the old handle of the attic door, and you don’t think much as you open it that it’s empty at first glance. You look to the ceiling as you step up the steps, half your body in the level before you look around the ground, and your eyes stop on a shape in the back of the room.

Your heart stops.

The girls voice sounds like echoes down a few feet from you.

The sweat on your brow dries to a cold sweat.

Your eyes widen as a gasp holds in your throat, your mouth open as a scream is stuck inside you, a hand covering your mouth.

A man's mummified body sits in an old rocking chair with a hunting rifle in his hands. His head was opened from the back, and it was clear as day what his fate was. The man had shot himself in the mouth, and he was never found until you opened that door. The smell of leather and decay was strong in this room. 

It was the fate you felt in your bones that was now yours.

“(Y/n)-” Van says behind you, and you quickly shut the door with a bang, and you turn to look at her. Her lighthearted face drops as she looks at your face. She cringes at the loud sounds of the bang. “(Y/n), What’s wrong?”

“Um, I need to call a meeting.” You rush as you leave the cabinet and grab Van’s firm bicep. She was flexing her arm as she quickly followed you, and you quieted and seemed unable to speak.

“Guys!” Van called for the others as she followed you. You look at the others with a pale face. You felt scared. But you couldn’t let go of the only shelter in the woods. Everyone, worriedly, circles you.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

This is so fucked up. 

Fat tears fill your eyes as you look at each of the seniors, croaking, “There is a dead body in the attic… He killed himself decades ago-”

“What the fuck!” Natalie whispers to herself, completely freaked out.

Jackie says with eyes like saucers, “Are you fucking serious, (Y/n)?!”

A chorus of shock and disgust, and you let your tears fall, but you pull yourself together very quickly. “Okay. Okay.” You start as you wipe a tear with your palm. “The cabin is in fucking great condition for being left alone for so long. It needs little fixes. We need this cabin to survive before the rescue comes and gets us.”

“No, (Y/n), I say no. We’re going back to the plane.”

You feel your patience run thin as you tell your childhood friend, “Jackie, we have no other choice. This is the first shelter we have found here, and you are telling me we shouldn’t sleep somewhere warm and dry at night?”

“No, We shouldn’t sleep in a house with a fucking dead body!”

“I agree! This place has such a bad feeling.” Lottie says.

“No, we need to stay here. This is a fucking home. We need this.” Taissa fought back.

“Okay, Let’s vote. All in favor of staying at the cabin.” You say and raise your hand. You, Travis, Taissa, Van, Laura Lee, and Natalie. The ones against were Jackie, Shauna, Lottie, Mari, and Akilah.

Majority rule.

“We need to do this the right way. We need to bury him.” Laura Lee says to the group. She nods to the cabin and says, “There is a shovel in there.”

“Can you and Van start digging… I don’t one the others to see this. Anyone go tell the others to come if you want, and you can leave to get everything and the stuff at the lake if you don’t want to see this.” You ramble. You knew what you had to do for the group. This is your only chance of survival, and your dad’s voice echoes in your mind.

A dull feeling comes over your neck. It felt like a hand comforting a pain underneath. 

“I need help moving the body. It's ancient…”

“I’ll come,” Taissa says, putting a hand on your shoulder for comfort. You only then realize you are staring a thousand miles away and look at her face.

“Me too.” Shauna jumped in, she comes closer to you and holds your hand.

“Shauna-”

“I’m not letting (Y/n) do it alone, Jackie.” Shauna pleads to Jackie as she comes over to you too. Her warm brown eyes hit your face, and her arm wraps around your waist in a hug.

Jackie, Mari, Lottie, and Travis leave to get the others and everything left behind on the shore of the lake. You soberly enter the house and quickly walk up the stairs to the attic. You confront the sour smell of mummification as you stop at the door to the second level. Taissa and Shauna were behind you, not wanting to do the dirty work that was about to happen.

You take a deep breath as your father's voice comes to your mind.

“You’re not a little girl. You can’t cry anymore.”

Don’t cry.

Don’t cry.

You take another deep breath and ball up your fists. You rush over behind the chair of the corpse.

You push the chair, scraping on the floor, eerily groans in the home. You hold your breath, keeping out the dirty air, as you push it toward the stairs.

Shauna and Taissa gasped like you did when you first seen him as you pushed the chair to the door. Their hands are over their mouths, and they watch in horror as you move infront of the body.

You try to keep your eyes off the body, but you can’t help but glance up at his face.

Empty eye sockets look back into yours. They were burning an unsaid truth of the two of you.

This was your fate if you were never found.

You grab under the arms of the body, and you lift the body with surprising ease. The leathery and weathered skin of the body rubbed against the soft skin of your hand. You felt the epidermis of the skin slide unnaturally from the muscle of the body, it slip with the pressure of your hold. It shook you to your core. You quickly pull the body down as you move down the latter steps. You don’t say a word before Shauna and Taissa grab a limp of the leathery body to help you carry it down. All of you run outside with the very light body.

The skin was flaking off with every step you took.

As you walk outside, Van is working double time, throwing the dirt behind her to make a 4 foot grave. Laura Lee took Van to move as they both, with horror, looked at the three of you carrying the body and laying it gently down into the grave.

As you crouch with the other two, you can’t help but have a sob come out of you as you let go of the body. This was someone. This was a man, a son, maybe a brother, father, or husband. And he is a fucking mummy in the Canadian forest out in the middle of nowhere.

You slump down from your exhausted legs, laying beside the hole in the ground, and cry infront of the other girls. This was all too much. You just wanted to get away from all of this. You get up and try not to touch your face before you can at least put on some hand sanitizer.

You stand still as you try to swallow the tears. You look up into the sky, hoping that all these feelings can get you out of it. The blue sky seemed to urge you to pray to something for help. It worsens as you look up because the fat tears fall down your cheeks.

You look at the other girls as you try to stop your sobs and walk away. You walk behind the cabin and cry into the air as quietly as you can. You never wanted to know how a mummy felt. You wished he never was in there. You wish you were never in these woods. You wish you were home cuddling with your mom in her bed in the living room. You weren’t supposed to be here.

You see Van and Shauna come from the side of the house and turn to see you, both deeply worried and with tears in their eyes.

You welcome Van and Shauna into your arms as they do you. You don’t stop the tears as you cry into Shauna’s shoulder like a little girl again. Vanessa kisses your forehead and says into your ear, “It’s all okay now. He is buried and gone. It’s all okay.”

As the night settled, the tingling inch on your skin didn’t. The girls around you slept, Shauna beside you and Jackie beside her. You slept in the dark corner of the living room of the cabin. It was a very emotionally high day for everyone. From the hike, and happiness of finding the cabin, to the horror of seeing the mummy. You didn't feel like you were really processing anything really afterwards, because you didn't even react when Coach Ben had a freak out and punched Misty in the nose. 

Your hands twist the semi-rusted fishing pole together. It was still in great shape but needed some TLC.  You lined the wheel, put on a bait without the hook, and had the white berries from the morning. You felt hope come over you slightly as it looked familiar and good. You weren’t the best at fishing, but you knew how to do it. “I can do this. We got food and water.” You thought and sighed.

You place the rod against the wall as quietly as possible, not to disturb the others' sleeping. You needed a moment. The air was too thick in there. So stuffy. 

You slip out of the room without a creek and feel the cool spring breeze hit your face. But as you walk around the porch on the other side of the house, you confront the back of Lottie.

“Hey, what are you doing out here. Having a hard time sleeping?” You ask Lottie as you come up behind her. You stand beside her as she crosses her arms and looking into the wilderness. 

Lottie looks at you with manic eyes and says, “I just have a bad feeling about this place.” She whispers to you emotionally. Like she was scared to say anymore. 

“Yeah, it is pretty stinky.” You joke and sigh as you lean against a pillar. “And there are spiders that could eat your face… But it’s our only choice to sleep somewhere warm.”

Lottie isn’t convinced, and you feel slightly annoyed as you sigh, “Lottie, I am not letting you sleep out here for bad vibes. I am sure we can find some stuff in the woods tomorrow to help clean the place of all the bad vibes” 

Lottie looks over to you with her eyes looking unmoved. She doesn’t want to move. 

You approach her and grab her shoulders to look at you, “Lottie, close your eyes.” 

“Why?” 

“Just close your eyes. And take a deep breath of air.” You say, eyes closed, and take a deep breath of air. “Let’s both just ground ourselves for a moment.” 

You hear Lottie take a deep breath with you. And you two do this back and further a few times. 

"Just feel the wilderness with you. It breathes you in as you breath it in." You say and take the finally big breath with her. 

Before you can open your eyes, you feel lips against your own. You open your eyes to see Lottie kiss you with a hand coming up to cup your face. She sucks onto your lip sweetly and leans into your body against the pillar. She quickly pulls back and says, "Sorry-I’m sorry I was so wrong for that-”

“No!” You squeaked, your body feeling hot as she kissed you. You look at her guilty face and think it was a straight girl wanting comfort. You get it. The kiss was nice. “It’s okay. Let’s just act like it never happened, okay? No weird feelings.” 

“No weird feelings,” Lottie says back to you with a smile. The both of you walk back into the new nest the Yellowjackets have claimed as their own. 

‘21

Misty was very tired and wanted to go home before she wouldn’t have any sleep for work the next day. You sweetly told her you understood, and Natalie dropped her off at her cute little house. Misty opens your door with a smile, and she hugs you before you can get your keys out; you close your eyes and hug her back.

“You are leaving me with Natalie.” You whisper into her ear, groaning that you have to spend more time with Natalie when you want to be far away from her.

Misty chuckled and rubbed you back up and down with her tiny hand, a mocking pout as she said, “You’ll be okay for another twenty minutes, honey. You got this.”

You smile, pull back, and say to her as she enters her house. “I got this.”

And as you thought, you didn't have this. The drive with Natalie is at tense as you thought it was as you drove down the drive to Natalie’s hotel. You felt dirty for how you spoke to her. It was so wrong what you said, and you said it because you believed it. Every word you said had venom.

And the worst part is that Natalie isn’t even mad. She is a fuck up. She fucked so many things up, and just because you owe her your life, it didn’t mean how she acted was right. How she acted to you since she knew you have never been fair, and she knew that. She couldn’t help it. She never wanted to see you leave her, so she left you first, and Natalie needed you to stay away from her heart which always seemed to bleed when she saw your beautiful face. You never did make her feel judged. You made Natalie feel checked. And she didn’t want to feel that all the time, but she also knew she needed that now more than ever. She is lost. Travis is gone.

You feel the urge to speak and be honest. For a moment, you see blonde hair in the corner of your eyes and the awkward teenage nervousness with the coolest girl in school. But you knew her. This is your Natalie. You must explain yourself before not seeing her again; You know what is on her mind now that Travis has killed himself.

“I don't think that I have ever really gotten you, Natalie…” You confessed with a prolonged breath. You felt a weight come off you when you just said it plainly to her, and a sadness tugged on your twitching eye. Knuckles white, holding the wheel as you continue in a calmer breath, “You change all the time and I can never get a clear look at who you are. Like if I thought you were a solid, you are actually a gas, but before I can accept that, you become a solid again. I may not be the most accepting, but I have always tried for you. Because the one thing I know about you that never changes is that I love you, and you love me in your own way.” You almost whisper at the end; your eyes peek over to see her staring straight into your face.

Natalie was silent as she watched you, she knew she was that way, especially towards you—her doe. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know. I know, Nat. That is why I never closed the door to you.” You say as you pull into the hotel. You wanted to say more and let the years of frustrating confusion and love just come out. But you know better. You know Natalie, and you know yourself. This is as far as it will go. “I told you back then, and I will tell you now, I will always love you."

You look over when you parked and finish what you said, and her face looks like something came over her. Natalie usually was guarded and cagey when she was emotional. But, in this moment of honesty with you, it felt good even though it was not all good. 

You and Natalie were the only reason that the yellowjackets' survived. The pride of it sank from the weight of the price that it was to survive out in those cold woods. The decisions, the projects, and the goals twisted and darkened with the reality that once was. Natalie was your rock as you were hers, but you were more of an island that housed the girls lost at sea with a lighthouse welcoming them with a smile. Natalie always envied that about you, never to admit it, but to be able to comfort the way you do.

The nights Natalie cuddled into your stomach for warmth, how her lips kissed your skin gently with reverence of the world, and how she held your face to have you fed.

You know her best and worst, just as Natalie knew yours.

“I’m sorry,” Natalie whispered, trying her hardest not to let the tears fall.

You felt your nose tingle and your chin quiver as you look over at her, water lining your eyes. You were slightly overwhelmed with emotion, longing for a different ending to your story and mourning the girls that once were you two.

You whisper to her, “I love you… I want you to love yourself to be better. Not just the rehabs and the AAs, but, like, better, Natalie. I had to do that. I was locked in my house for years before I thought about being “normal” again.”

“I have never been normal.” Natalie jabbed as she took off her seatbelt. But she didn’t move from her seat because even she knew this needed to be said.

“No, you are cool. That was better.” You chuckle lightheartedly, trying to ease the weight you feel for her. The regret never fail to get you emotional. Natalie chuckles, and then she starts to cry quietly. “You know I am always there even if we are miles away, okay? I am still the same (Y/n).”

You put your hand to rub her back, and she lets you. She cries in her hands for a few seconds and doesn’t push you away.

“I don’t know what you think of me, and I don’t really care. I need you to know that for me knowing you has been so important to me. Thank you for being exactly who you were and are, Natalie Scatorccio."

Suddenly, like she remembered why she was there, she opened the door and left the car coldly, without a word.

You take a deep breath, close your eyes, and nod at the behavior. You love her but can’t help; she wouldn’t let you. It’s a lost love for a good reason. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking break your heart. You take another breath and tell her, even though she can’t hear you, “It’s okay. I get it, Natalie.” 

You pull out of the parking lot and don’t want to be on the road anymore. And you drive to the closest place you know and park in front of their house like you usually do.

You knock on the door politely and feel yourself mask the sadness until you can talk about it better. You look at your old watch, the handy-down watch your dad gave you on your 30th birthday; seeing it was 10:30 pm, you sigh when you hear the footsteps at the door.

Warm brown eyes look into yours, and your lower lip quivers slightly.

“Hey, Stinky.”

“Hey, Smelly.” You smile and lead forward to Shauna, Hugging her deeply.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were coming tomorrow? Callie is at Ashley’s, and Jeff is “at work” and-”

“I just wanted to see you.” You sniffled and pulled back, giving her a tight-lipped smile, “Coffee?”

“Fuck yeah, let's have some coffee.” Shauna smiled, pulling you into having your weekly gossip and venting session with her best friend early.

As your body walks into Shauna’s home, someone watches the back of your head as you enter the house. Their eyes looked onto the back of your body. She remembers you, thinks about you often, on that day at the lake, and how you swam beside them and laughed. You tried your most challenging at that time, and she remembered how beautiful you were when you became someone who saved everyone. You were a crucial part of her survival, the whole pack's survival. She leaned against the white leather seats of the van, and she lit a cigarette as she watched you do your weekly routine with Shauna. Her fingers rub the leather wheel of the car, and her knuckles are white as she holds in something darker that has plagued the last 25 years. She was fucked up, and she knew it. She wanted to own you. She would be lost without you to ground her, to reassure her of reality and what it meant to be free now. The urge to go out of the car and try to get you back, pull into the car to keep you once again. She says softly, with her eyes blinking uncontrollably, “Goodnight, (y/n), Goodnight.” they then start the black van and drives out of the suburb.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lesbian #taissa turner #taissa turner x reader #shauna shipmen #dark! yellowjackets #shauna shipman x reader #lottie mathews #lottie mathews x reader #van palmer #van palmer x reader #vanessa palmer #vanessa palmer x reader #misty quigley #misty quigley x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #yandere! yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #A certain hunger series

[braxiatel]

You know that “if it were a drawing I would call it a doodle or a sketch” incomplete fic I posted a while back?

Well here’s another from a few months ago.

Mumscarian (shocking, I know) hunger games au except instead of being told from the POV of someone in the hunger games it’s told by someone they left behind.

Content warnings are all similar in style and detail to the hunger games books, anx include injury (with specific mention of broken bones, spinal injuries, eye injuries, burns), references to genocide, displacement, and loss of a parental figure. Child- and animal endangerment, dissociation, non consensual body modifications, and possibly more that I cannot recall at this moment. Proceed with caution.

———

Cats have healing powers.

Scar was the one who told him that, on a cold winter’s day in front of the fire. Had it really only been months? It felt so much longer…

Something about their purring, Scar had said. He had been more specific than that, but Mumbo’s head was somewhat hazy at the moment.

But the purring healed you, Mumbo could remember as much.

Still, he was pretty sure Jellie alone wasn’t going to get him out of this one, not for lack of trying.

It was her fault he was here anyway.

… No, that wasn’t true. He would have said as much to himself if not for the fact that even moving his lips to take in gasping breaths was agony.

They had been warned before the bombs started to drop. There has been time to run, Pearl’s hand in his so they did not lose each other in the crowd.

Until he saw a woman carrying a goat in her arms and remembered-

“I have to go back,” he panted through strained breaths - he was nowhere near as fit as Pearl, who had been washing the coal-smeared clothes of half the Seam since age eleven to make ends meet.

“What?!” Pearl asked, continuing to pull him towards the hovercraft that was waiting on the green. “Mumbo if we stay we’re going to die. Whatever you forgot it isn’t more important than your life, if can be replaced, I promise. Just-”

“Jellie,” he interrupted her. “We forgot Jellie.”

Pearl’s grip slackened. The crowd kept moving around them, indistinct bodies pushing them forward and together.

“It will break Scar if he comes home and finds out she’s gone. I’ll just… two minutes, okay? I’ll be two minutes. I’ll go to his house and if she isn’t home I’m leaving without her. I just have to try.”

Pearl had looked as though she wanted to argue. She was practical though, in the same way Grian was, in the same way every child that grew up in the Seam was

“No sense in wasting time then. Go. Two minutes, Mumbo, and no more.”

Jellie continued to purr in his arms, unaware of the danger they were still in.

Suppose he had fancied himself a romantic, running back into a doomed town to save his sort-of-boyfriend’s cat.

Grian would laugh and call him an idiot… or he would have once. Grian didn’t do a great deal of laughing these days.

Mumbo could taste blood on his tongue. He wondered if any of the animals that lived in the forests beyond District 12 could smell it, if at any moment a mountain lion might finish him off, defenceless as he was.

He wondered if any of the animals were even still alive.

There had been blood on his tongue the day it started too.

His father - his adopted father that was - always chided him for the habit of biting on his cheek when he was nervous. But not today. Xisuma may have been smiling under his breather, but the Mayor of 12 was anything but calm. Wishing that another boy - any other than Mumbo - would be the one whose name was drawn today, did not sit well with Mayor Xisuma, who had been appointed to keep the citizens of 12 in line and dedicated himself to keeping them safe instead.

Today Mumbo bit his cheek, lined up with every other boy age twelve to eighteen in the district.

Well, almost. Scar had offered him a wink from the line of girls, standing out like a sore thumb in his trousers and the white shirt that had long ago been tainted a greyish brown by wear.

Although Scar was only a little more than a year older than Mumbo, he had been towards the back with the other seventeen-year-olds, while Mumbo was perfectly in the middle, still two weeks shy of sixteen.

“You look as if you’re about to implode from sheer stress,” a familiar voice has said from behind him.

Mumbo couldn’t remember what he had replied anymore, but he did recall how the hints of blonde in Grian’s hair had stood out in the sun that day. Pearl, he knew, always insisted on both of them having a proper bath before the reaping.

They would have shared the same banter they always did. Grian would tease him for being nervous when his name was barely in the draw at all, and Mumbo would mentally assure himself that Grian was right, he was safe.

That had been the day he learned what he should actually have been fearing all along.

The world had stopped turning when Scar’s given name was called out.

It had taken a moment before anyone had recognised it, it had been years since he used it last after all.

“I prefer Scar, actually,” he had corrected, stepping out of the lineup with a smile on his face.

Scar’s nose wrinkled when he smiled and meant it. Mumbo had admired it a thousand times in breaks between lessons and walking home through the Merchant’s section of the district, had tasted it on his lips far too few times for Scar to go off to his death now.

Grian’s hand was a steadying presence on Mumbo’s back for only a moment before the next name was called.

“Grian Xelqua.”

This time the world had stopped spinning altogether. In Mumbo’s memory it did anyway.

His next real memory was sitting opposite Grian, in a room adjacent to his father’s office, babbling about making sure Pearl wouldn’t be left alone through sobs.

He had felt so awful about those tears. There he was, crying about the prospect of losing Grian and Scar, when his best friend and his boyfriend were both about to leave to die horribly in the Hunger Games.

He had only been given a moment with Grian before Pearl arrived. Even thinking about the look on her face as she went to tell her twin goodbye still chilled Mumbo to the bone.

Next, he had guided to see Scar, the seat still warm from Cub having sat there only moments ago.

Most people would have put Cub’s quick departure down to the fact that he and Scar were cousins so many times removed they were only barely more related than anyone else in the Merchant’s section.

Mumbo knew the truth to be something else entirely. Cub was a man of few words and a practical one at that. In the coming weeks, many would look sideways at his apothecary as it continued to be open even as Scar fought for his life in the games. Mumbo understood, though, and so did Scar.

“I love you,” it had been the first time either of them had said it, their romance still new. Now Scar spoke the words carefully, stroking Mumbo’s tear-stained cheek before he continued to add: “But when I leave this building I am going to have to forget that, and I want you to do the same. I love you, Mumbo, and that’s why I’m going to make sure you don’t lose both of us.”

At the time he hadn’t thought he would ever know greater pain than having to hide his feelings away, watching Scar use his golden tongue to charm the masses of the Capitol, convincing them of his undying devotion towards Grian, never once mentioning Mumbo in all of his interviews.

He was certainly in more pain now... Mumbo had always been a bit of a spoon, though, so it was no wonder he was wrong about that too.

Jellie crooned in his arms and Mumbo forced his right eye open - the left remaining stuck shut just as it had since the fire had licked across his skin.

Jellie’s fur may be a little singed, but Mumbo’s blood had put any fires that had touched her out. He almost wanted to laugh at that, but his lungs were stinging from the smoke and the ash in the air and it was all he could do not to choke on it.

Above the chasm he was lying in the wind blew harshly, stoking the fires consuming the forest around him.

It was definitely ironic that he should die this way. For months now he had had nightmares of flames, ever since that fateful day when the 74th Hunger Games had ended.

Grian had all but dragged Scar through the forests, Scar’s left leg trailing after him like deadweight and his right barely able to support him, fire chasing them ever forward.

Mumbo had been sick three times that day. When the fire started, again when a dagger was wedged into Grian’s right eye, and finally when the game makers had announced that Grian and Scar could not win together after all.

He had missed the part where they took each other’s hands and walked to the edge of a cliff, ready to throw themselves off together instead of either of them winning alone.

The fire crackled above the chasm again.

“Go,” he hissed through uneasy breaths, nudging Jellie with his shoulders. “Please.”

Scar would be devastated if she were to die this way, and he had only just started smiling again…

Hollow. That was the only word Mumbo had known that might describe Grian and Scar when they returned from the games. Facades, stitched together and polished by the best the Capitol had to offer, the very picture of Capitol beauty with none of what mattered left.

Scar had smiled and joked that hey, at least they had taken the tits while they were rearranging his skin to cover the fact that his leg had been mangled beyond recognition by a trap once meant to hold a fully grown bear. Mumbo had laughed. It hadn’t been funny in the least.

And while the things Scar said rarely failed to make Mumbo feel sick to his stomach, it was Grian’s silence that disturbed him.

That had come to a head one evening when Grian had torn the prosthetic eye from its socket, hurtling it so hard against the marble walls of his house in the victor’s village that the plastic had cracked. A new had arrived within the week.

Mumbo coughed and hacked, pain wracking his body as the smoke clawed on the inside of his throat and his lungs.

Stupid, stupid Mumbo. He had known the chasm was here, he had seen it on his adoptive father’s maps of the district enough time that he should have known to run the other way.

Granted, it had been more than half a year since he had last stepped foot in the mayoral office, when his father had disappeared overnight and his uncle had been put in charge of District 12 in his stead.

Xisuma’s brother had never been fond of either of them, and he paid little mind when Mumbo simply moved into one of the many spare bedrooms in Grian’s house in the Victor’s Village after they returned from their victory tour of Panem.

Officially he had become Cub’s apprentice, the district still needing medicine even though their one apothecary was now living with his cousin-nth-removed in luxury.

Unofficially he and Scar had finally talked again, combing out the tangled knots of their relationship and what it could even be now that Grian and Scar were only alive because of their status as the star-crossed lovers in the eyes of the citizens of the Capitol.

Mumbo loved Scar enough that he did not mind only holding Scar’s hand in private, did not mind how Scar looked at Grian in public view and in quiet moments at home when he thought no one would notice, did not begrudge Scar a single bit of the patience and space he needed before he was ready for Mumbo to kiss him again.

Scar, in turn, had not minded how Grian latched himself to Mumbo, how Mumbo and Grian would share a bed when nightmares kept them awake, and how Mumbo could not help but blush whenever Scar spoke of Grian.

In another world, they might have spent years dancing around the issue before they developed the emotional maturity to recognise that there was love enough between them for all three of them to share.

In this world, however, they were not afforded the luxury of time. It had felt as though Mumbo had only just gotten his two favourite people back, only for it to be announced that in a few months time, he would have to see at least one of them leave again, off to compete in the 75th Hunger Games as the only two living tributes in District 12 apart from Impulse, whose experience as a mentor was the only thing standing between Mumbo and the very real possibility that both of the boys - the men - he loved would return to him in a coffin.

Mumbo sobbed at the thought, then sobbed again when he continued to shake, muscles tensing and untensing around broken bones and ruptured organs as the morning sun rose to greet him, crimson red through the not-so-distant fires consuming his home.

Surely Grian and Scar were dead by now. The games… Mumbo was not politically savvy the way his two partners were, but he knew well enough that they had been supposed to die in the arena.

“Go,” he begged Jellie again, the burns on his face stinging as salty tears ate away at them.

Scar wouldn’t want her dead. Scar wouldn’t want anything, because he was no doubt dead in a box somewhere far, far away in the Capitol, but he wouldn’t have wanted her dead had he been alive.

The fires were close now, the air so thick even Mumbo’s desperate attempts for air seemed to yield none.

No one would miss him.

It hit him just then.

He was going to die, a broken body left to rot or burn in a chasm by a broken District. Grian and Scar would die too, his father had been dead for months. No one would even know that he was gone, just one name on a dizzyingly long list.

Silly, silly Mumbo, running back into a town doomed to burn to save a dead man from a broken heart. Pearl had been right, he shouldn’t have gone back.

Oh, Pearl! She would know he was gone. How had he managed to forget her? He felt he ought to know but his mind was providing nothign but static.

Another pang of guilt. He had promised Grian she wouldn’t be alone once, and now she would, all because he had been too sentimental. Because he had been too slow, clinging tight to Jellie as he watched the hovercrafts take off. Because he had taken a wrong turn, getting himself thrown into this stupid chasm by one of the countless bombs that had devastated the only home he had ever known.

“Go away,” he hissed at Jellie while he still had air left in his lungs to do so. “Shoo.”

Jelliw finally rose from her position at his side, earning herself a wet sob when her fur rubbed against one of Mumbo’s burns.

She yowled back at him, a familiar tone of complaint that most often harbingered-

Mumbo cringed when the first drop of rain hit his ruined skin, but instantly felt a wave of relief as water cooled his burns.

Soon the air was clearing too, his breaths less ragged but just as wet as it travelled through his ruined chest.

His one good eye fixed on Jellie as she sought shelter under an outcropping of rocks, looking expectantly at him, unaware that he couldn’t move to join her.

For now he was enjoying the relief of the rain anyway. His burns cooling, fat drops of rain slipping between his cracked lips to wet his tongue. He was certain he was far too calm when he congratulated himself on the fact he would likely bleed out rather than die of thirst.

Above him the fires hissed and sputtered, and for the first time since the alarms had sounded, he allowed himself to disengage from the situation.

His mind floated to the town he had grown up in. Would any of the Merchant’s Sector still be standing? He very much doubted it, given how long the bombs had continued to shake him to his bones and make his teeth clatter even after his tumble to the bottom of the chasm.

If any parts of the Seam were still standing it would only be because it covered a far larger part of the town than the Merchant’s Sector ever did, most of the houses barely able to withstand normal wind and weather.

Mumbo had called the Victor’s Village home for the past several months, but he found himself hoping it had been destroyed as well. There was nothing left for him there, even if he had held any hope of surviving.

Mumbo opened his eye with a start realisation: he very much did not want to die.

Silly thing to forget, really, but as had been established Mumbo could be rather silly.

He must have been drifting in and out of consciousness, because by now the crackle of the fire had grown distant, leaving a deadly quiet in its wake. The rain had stopped, and the clouds cleared enough to allow him to see the last rays of the setting sun painting the sky bruise purple.

He heaved in fresh air, his whole being shivering and shaking with the cold rain soaking his broken body.

His eye drifted to the side, to where Jellie was lying on her paws, watching him intently. She had a cut on her ear he had not seen through the haze of the smoke, but seemed otherwise unharmed.

Here were his choices:

He could stay where he was, dying of exposure or to his wounds.

Or he could try to move, and at least die somewhere slightly more dry and comfortable.

The choice would have been easy to Grian and Scar, he thought. Grian would have clawed his way out of the chasm by now, and not even death could have stopped Scar from holding Jellie in his arms.

To Mumbo it was far from simple.

See, Mumbo didn’t want to die, but he very much didn’t want to be in pain either and he had a feeling moving would hurt a great deal.

His mind was hazy, something that had been vivid earlier unclear to him now. Why did the thought of Grian and Scar make his eyes sting with sticky tears?

He didn’t want to leave them…

With a sob Mumbo realised he really had no choice at all.

“Jellie?” he asked. “Get Scar, won’t you? I need you to get him… I need you to get Scar so that he’s here when this is over.”

Jellie for her part stood and stretched, and that was enough to convince him that somehow the cat had understood his pleas.

Okay. This was it…

He flexed his toes but otherwise had no luck kicking against the ground.

No other thing for it, then…

If pain had weight the one that hit him must be hundreds of tons.

His lungs screamed for air, seizing as he dragged himself one little bit forward. The bone clicked in his arm, but far worse was the white-hot burning radiating through his spine and into his legs.

He wouldn’t have made it much further than half a metre when he collapsed against the wall of the chasm, his ears ringing… or perhaps that was simply the screams echoing through the chasm?

With each thundering beat of his heart panic spread further through his body, seaping into every muscle and every fibre.

“Help,” he called, voice hoarse and throat dry. “It hurts.”

A noise from above his head. A flicker of hope.

The rain had washed the blood from his face, at least enough that he could force his other eye open and locate the source of the sound. Jellie, despite her age, was quite athletic and had made it almost all the way to the top of the chasm.

Well, it wasn’t help, but it was a start, right? Jellie would run home and get Scar, or Grian, or maybe even Xisuma. Someone would find him…

The sun rose and at some point in the night Mumbo had stopped feeling the bite of the cold - in fact the chill dew on his skin was quite refreshing, as was the trickle off water next to his head.

He couldn’t move to drink it all, but with a tilt of his head he was able to gulp some of it down, soothing the dryness in his throat.

The forest was so quiet today. Mumbo had only ventured beyond the fence with Grian and Scar twice in his life, but what he recalled most clearly was how alive it had been compared to the stifling settlement they called home.

There were no birds now, no rustle of the wind in the leaves, not even the distant sound of hares and other small animals skittering through the forest floor.

Mumbo’s stomach churned. Was that roast meat he could smell on the wind? When had he even last had something to eat…?

He wished his clothes were not so heavy. If only they were lighter, he might be able to move and remove his shirt. When had the sun become so warm?

He tilted his head to drink more water, mud and ash sticking to the sides of his mouth.

The moon, too, was warm tonight. Mumbo had never known it to be as much before, but nonetheless, it was even warmer than the sun had been. He felt as though he was burning up.

The stars were so bright, as bright as Mumbo had only ever seen them through his father’s telescope. It had been the nicest thing they owned, the lense scratched but still functional enough that he had been able to look through it and dream himself far away.

They moved oddly, reflecting in the helmet of the person standing at the top of the chasm.

Their language was garbled too. Mumbo never knew there were animals that looked like people in the forest…

He blinked, tilting his head a little for a better look.

The person-animal recoiled and Mumbo wanted to shush it, tell it he grew up sheltered in the Merchant’s Section and had no idea how to harm it even if he wanted to.

It made another garbled sound. Except…

Except…

“-Nd a survivor. I repeat I have found a survivor. Requesting urgent medical attention.”

The person-animal - who may in fact just be a person, come to think of it - climbed down the side of the cave.

First they removed a glove, revealing pale skin, and then their helmet. A cascade of red curls fell out, framing a young woman’s face.

“My name is Gem, Scout for District 13. Can you hear me? Can you tell me your name?”

He blinked, certain he ought to know how to respond to that. His tongue, however, remained unyielding.

“Mumbo! MUMBO! Let me go! I need to see him!”

Mumbo wished he had the energy to turn his head and look up and see the owner of the voice, but he was simply too tired.

“Get him out of here and start working on getting a stretcher down here, I think his spine might be broken,” Gem said over their shoulder. Their tone was far softer when they turned around and spoke to him. “Mumbo? Is that your name? Mumbo, listen to me, you need to hang in there. Whatever you saw during the bombing of 12 could be very valuable to the resistance, so you have to hold on a little bit longer so we can get you to a doctor.”

The bombing of 12…

Mumbo knew he should feel something. Panic, grief, anger, anything at all.

In reality, he just felt tired.

“Grr… ggi,” he tried.

“You want Grian?” Gem asked. “Sure, sure. He’s on his way to the hovercraft and in a moment you will be too. I’m just going to give you something for the pain and the fever, okay?”

Fever? Since when did he have a fever?

A weight on his chest lessened a little, relief flooding through him as the dull throbbing of pain he had been feeling from his everywhere began to subside.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Gem instructed. “You might get a little tired but it’s very important that you don’t fall asleep.”

Mumbo wanted to open his mouth to tell them that of course, he wasn’t going to fall asleep. Instead he blinked and a moment later he was somewhere new. It looked like home, looking like the Market Square, only not at all. The Market Square should be bustling with late afternoon activity, judging by the sun being in the west. The market Square was surrounded by buildings on all sides, whereas this place barely had any rubble worthy of being called ‘walls’.

There was a mask over his face, one that reminded him of his father’s breather, its edges digging into his flesh.

“Let me go this instance or I swear I walk - and don’t think Scar won’t do the same. We both care about him and- Mumbo!”

Grian’s face entered his view. The Capitol liked to style him in a way that made him look older than a mere seventeen, but that was not the reason Mumbo could see no trace of the boy that had once sat next to him in school barely more than a year ago.

His one remaining eye was dark, clouded by unbridled fury.

His gaze softened a little when he sat next to Mumbo.

“Can I touch him?”

Yes, Mumbo wanted to say. His body felt so wrong, cold and hot and numb and aching, all of it all at once. He wanted Grian to hold him, wanted Scar to join in as well. Come to think of it, where was Scar?

“If you’re careful.”

Hold on, that voice was familiar. Cub? Why was Cub here? And where was ‘here’ anyway?

That train of thought died as cold lips pressed against Mumbo’s temple. Odd, Grian normally ran hot.

“Hey.” Another kiss, this time on his forearm of all places. Then again, it was one of the few places that didn’t tingle with pain… “Thought I’d lost you for a moment,” Grian whispered, one of his fingers trailing over the part of Mumbo’s arm he had just kissed.

The world shook, and Mumbo’s body went slack with pain.

“Gently,” Grian hissed over his shoulder. He looked at Mumbo again, and he looked so very human. “Be gentle… Mumbo? Mumbo?! Mumbo, you have to-”

If Grian actually told Mumbo what he wanted him to do, it was lost somewhere between the humming of the world around them and the static in Mumbo’s ears. His eyes had slipped close, and for the first time in days he felt safe to rest.

—

Mumbo was aching.

That was the first thought that crossed his mind. Next was this: he was not at home in the Victor’s Village, nor was he in the small apartment in the Justice Building that had been his childhood home.

The bed was too short for him, the linen too coarse, and most offensive of all there was an incessant beeping next to his right ear.

Heavy footsteps - familiar ones at that - approached and a door swung closed with a whir.

Right. The door opening had woken him in the first place.

He opened his eyes and had to blink when he saw the familiar face of his dead father.

“Xisuma?” he tried to ask, the name muffled by the mask sitting on his face.

“Oh, Mumbo, thank goodness,” his adoptive father said in the same tone as he would normally use when Mumbo came home half an hour late after taking the long way home from school with Grian and Scar. “Grian, he’s awake.”

Mumbo strained his eyes, only barely able to make out the bright red colour of a familiar sweater.

“What?” Grian, too, seemed to just have woken up. “Oh! Mumbo!”

A chair scraped across the floor and a moment later Grian came into view too.

“You’re alive,” Mumbo tried to say, trying to enunciate the words as much as he could with his mouth being as dry as it was.

“We could say the same to you,” Xisuma told him, pushing a lock of hair out of Mumbo’s face just as he had done when Mumbo first came to him at age seven. “I don’t know if you have the worst or the best luck in the world. Falling down a ravine like that, and staying safe from the fires and the bombs. Do you know the scouts only found you because Jellie found them and insisted they follow her? She’s getting a well-deserved rest now, but you’d better thank her when you’re up and about again… or well… Well, yes, when you see her.”

Though his father’s rambling was a comforting background noise Mumbo had missed dearly, one thing stuck out to Mumbo.

The bombs. The fires.

“12 is gone,” he shuddered.

“Some of the people made it out,” Xisuma told him. “The ones smart enough not to go running back after lost pets.”

Oh, had he really done that? Mumbo was certain he must be blushing with sheer embarrassment.

He couldn’t bring himself to regret it, though. Scar would have been devastated if anything had happened to Jellie.

Scar.

The thought struck him and the beeping sound increased.

“Gri?” He asked. “Where’s S…”

Mumbo choked on the words, his throat aching from the smoke he had inhaled and the dry air flowing through the breather covering the lower half of his face.

Grian waited for him to finish coughing, his hand resting on Mumbo’s right arm as a steady presence.

“He’s okay,” Grian told him, though the waver in his voice told Mumbo otherwise. Grian had always been a terrible liar, and Mumbo knew him far too well to believe him.

Judging by Grian’s expression he realised this too.

“He’s alive,” Grian corrected. “The Capitol have him. But we’re already looking into saving him. We’re going to get him back, Mumbo, I swear. You came back and he will too…”

Grian rose to his feet, kissing the same part of Mubmo’s forehead he had earlier.

“I’ll fix it all,” Grian promised him. “The two of us, we’ll find a way to bring him back, even if it means burning the Capitol to the ground.”

#hermitcraft #hermitshipping #mumscarian #mumbo jumbo #GoodTimesWithScar #gtws #Grian #Pearlescentmoon #geminitay #XisumaVoid