#I unlocked the next one that’s supposed to come out but I don’t have anymore coins 😔😔😔😔

[skellytonsandstars]

Read all of school bus graveyard last night in one sitting and I just want to know WHY Aiden has clown makeup on

Like there is SUCH A FUCKIN CONTRAST TO THE REST OF THE ICONS WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE

[rishiguro]

GAME OVER - K. KENMA

warnings: hurt/no comfort. 3.7k of angst. break up. yelling. talking about abandonment. heartbreak. no beta, we die like ao3.

zipping the suitcase shut, you closed your eyes. this was your second and last one. you were practically done, your best friend has confirmed that they were already on the way and soon you would be out of here the rest of your stuff was already at their place, you had made sure that today, the day you were finally leaving, everything you had would leave this place.

you had planned this. you knew you wanted this. and it’s not like your soon-to-be-ex boyfriend ever mentioned something about your belongings slowly disappearing, if he even noticed it – which he probably didn’t.

after all, he didn’t even notice you growing distant over the last couple of weeks. 

quickly you lifted the luggage from the bed and pushed it into the hallway. you wanted to leave as soon as possible, hell, you wouldn’t even mind waiting outside, even though it was freezing and snowing without an end in sight. but for now you decided to stay inside, after all you knew that kenma had plans. not that he would’ve told you personally, but you overheard him talking to his best friend on the phone last night.

as it turned out however, this didn’t seem to be the case.

you were currently walking around the apartment one last time, checking if you had taken everything with you before finally leaving, when something made you stop in your tracks, your hand tightening around one of the straps of your backpack.

you could practically feel your heart stop as you heard the door unlock and fall shot shortly after, followed by keys being tossed into the bowl right next to it.

why was he home? he wasn’t supposed to be home. 

“(y/n)?” you heard him call out for you and instantly your heartbeat sped up rapidly. he sounded puzzled and slightly irritated, which affirmed your belief that he saw the luggage in the hallway. “what’s going on?”

with a clenched jaw you forced yourself to calm down, your feet taking you to come face to face with him. “why are you home? i thought you wanted to go over to tetsurou’s place,” you stated calmly, forcing your voice to sound as bored as possible. you didn’t want him to know of the turmoil you felt inside of you.

kenma narrowed his eyes at you. “you didn’t answer my question”

shrugging, you pointed roughly into the direction of your suitcases. “well what does it look like? i’m leaving”

you don’t know how you were expecting him to react. shock? sadness? or even relief?

what you didn’t expect was to look at his ever so apathetic face as he only raised his eyebrows slightly at you. “haha, very funny” 

you could only blink at him for a few moments before you shook your head, muttering something to yourself. you shouldn’t be so surprised that he didn’t take you seriously. it’s not like he respected or even reacted to anything you told him before anyways.

good. maybe that would make it easier for you to leave.

“sure,” you whispered, not being able to mask the hurt and anger in your voice completely. 

you should have left earlier. you should have just gone outside despite the thick snow and cold wind instead of waiting for your friend to text you.

“come on, i know you’re joking,” kenma rolled his eyes at you as he spoke. “you wouldn’t just leave like that. did someone put you up to this stupid prank?”

scoffing, you let your backpack fall to the ground, clenching your first on your side.

a couple of months ago you would have tried to excuse the apathy in his voice and even excuse his way of dismissing you and whatever you were doing, telling yourself that he was tired or just busy but once this period was over he would again be the loving and attentive young man you fell in love with.

but he wasn’t anymore. and he hasn’t been for a long while.

furrowing your eyebrows you looked down to your backpack, rusting in it for a couple of seconds before pulling out a white, slightly wrinkled envelope. you took a deep breath to gather yourself before looking back up at him. “i wanted to leave this on the table, but since you’re here already” you held it out in front of you, looking at him expectantly.

with a confused look on his face, kenma reached out, taking the paper from you with slow hands, his bewildered eyes never leaving your stone-cold expression.

he looked down at it, seeing that it was addressed to him, his name handwritten in big, cursive letters. “what’s that supposed to be?”

“i told you, i’m leaving,” you repeated coldly.

with skeptic eyes he looked at the white paper for a second before meeting your eyes again. “why would you?” he sounded confused, more bewildered than actually emotional.

of course he still didn’t believe you. 

you were here in front of him, your suitcases packed and a backpack on your shoulders and he still didn’t take you seriously. what would you have to do for him to just listen to you for one time?

you couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at him, fingers tightening around the straps of your backpack before you swung it back onto yourself again, at the same time putting your shoes on. “read it and find out”

you jumped slightly as kenma spoke again, his voice now significantly louder than before, uncharacteristic for a quiet and rather apathetic person. “seriously? you say you’re leaving but can’t even tell me to my face why? really?” he sneered, taking a step closer to you.

in return you backed away, trying to keep your voice as low and steady as you could. “you have no reason to raise your voice at me right now”

after his hands had balled up the letter, kenma threw the paper on the ground. 

that’s what he was doing to what you were telling him. this is how much your words meant to him.

not even worth a listen, only worth to be thrown away.

“of course i have! i have every reason to! my partner wants to pack up and leave and doesn’t even have the heart to talk to me!” he continued yelling, pointing at you accusingly. 

of course everything was your fault. of course he didn’t listen. of course he didn’t entertain the possibility for even one second that everything you wanted to talk about and everything you argued about was serious.

you shook your head in disbelief, a shocked laugh escaping you. “suddenly you want to talk?”

“what the hell are you talking about”

every single word that left his mouth managed to drive the knife in your heart even deeper inside. did he ever even care? did the past years mean absolutely nothing to him? why was he so confused? did your concerns over all these months and years really mean nothing to him?

why did he care so little?

“if you want me to talk, sure, i’ll talk” you clenched your teeth, balling your hands to fists at your sides.

you looked back at him, letting out a deep breath before you summarized all your thoughts in just a few words, mentally begging that you could simply get out as fast as possible. “you don’t give a shit anymore. not about this relationship or about me”

you didn’t want to talk to him about it, afraid of what you might say or not say and afraid of what he might say. you didn’t want to see him stare at you as you poured your heart out, slap him in the face with every issue that‘s been laying heavy on your heart for way too long. you were afraid of breaking down crying in front of him, showing him just how much you hurt.

you simply couldn’t. you wouldn’t allow yourself to be so vulnerable in front of him, not in front of the person that made you feel so worthless and broken.

“i care about you!” kenma shouted back at you, taken aback by what you had just told him, “how could you say that i don’t?“

was that how he showed that he cared? ignoring you, arguing with you and constantly dismissing you? was that really how a person would show their love and care?

you scoffed. “no, you don’t, kenma! you stopped caring about us a long time ago,” you yelled, wanting nothing more than stomping your feet in frustration. why did he suddenly care so much? “you never talked to me unless it was to ask me to get you something because you were too lazy to get up and pause your game or wait before entering the next round. you never even thanked me when i brought you whatever it was you were asking for. you completely neglected your half of your chores and even had the audacity to get mad at me when i didn’t do them for you. and if that wasn’t enough, if i just as much as delayed mine for just a couple of hours because i came home from work exhausted as fuck, you found it in yourself to be angry at me too”

with every word you spoke you could see the anger in kenma‘s face disappear, instead shock and guilt taking it’s place. his entire stance loosened up, almost like he was about to lose balance on his feet. “(y/n), i-”

“i’m not done“ you continued to stare him down, a part of you taking pleasure in seeing his resolve crumble and see him look like a kicked dog. you know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help yourself. you suffered for so long, you were in pain for so long — he should know how he had made you feel all this time. “you never listened to me anymore, because whatever was on any of your screens was more important. i don’t know if it was a game, or a friend, at this point i wouldn’t even care if you had a side piece. because it’s not like this would matter anymore. whoever or whatever it was, is clearly more important to you”

kenma stepped back, looking away from you as he pressed his fingernails deeply into his palm. he opened and closed his mouth multiple times, unsure of what to say. that was until he finally settled on something. “you’re blowing this out of proportion,” he whispered.

you let out a breathy laugh. was he serious? blowing things out of proportion?

would he still say this if he knew just how many tears you shed because of this? if he knew how often you made excuses for him to not just yourself but your friends too, who desperately tried to help you realize that the relationship wasn’t healthy or good for you? how you were constantly doubting yourself, not knowing if you were the one expecting too much? would he finally realize everything if he knew how broken you felt?

turning away from him, you pressed your lips into a thin line, quickly flexing and relaxing your hands as you tried to ground yourself. with a sad smile you looked back at him again. “it was our anniversary a week ago. do you remember that?”

you could see how kenma‘s face fell, as he became even more overcome with guilt. so he really didn’t care anymore. “thought so. you didn’t even come home that night,“ you continued, melancholy overtaking you as you recounted the day mentally. the excitement and hope you felt when you first woke up and started your day, which slowly turned into sadness and hurt with every passing hour until you completely shut down the moment the new day began. “do you know how shitty it felt to sit at home and just wait for you to show up, only to realize that you actually forgot?”

you shook your head again, swallowing rapidly to get rid of the lump that was starting to form in your throat. “you. the guy that remembers every easter egg, every cheat code and every shortcut from practically every game he played over the last year. that guy forgot his anniversary. and his partner’s birthday too while we’re at it”

it seemed that now the harsh reality finally hit kenma. he nodded, looking down in shame as he fiddled with his fingers. he opened his mouth, only to close it again. and again. and again. you could see the gears turning in his head.

in the meanwhile, you felt relief. while you still didn’t like that you were standing in front of him and couldn’t just disappear as planned, never seeing him again, you got a sense of comforting retaliation with every passing second. maybe, just maybe, he could feel even just an ounce of what you felt. 

“(y/n), i can make it up to you, i promise, i’ll do anything. i didn’t mean to, i just got so caught up in everything,“ he tried to reason, miserably failing in his attempt to admit his faults without taking an ounce of accountability.

maybe he didn’t get it after all.

you narrowed your eyes at him. “you’re incredibly stupid if you actually believe that,” you stated with a shockingly monotone voice, shutting your eyes in defeat. “just face it, kenma. you didn’t care and don’t pretend to care now”

“but i did! i do!” he immediately claimed, stepping closer to you again, trying to take your hand, only for you to pull yours away as soon as his fingers touched your skin.

you sighed, holding your hands up in front of you in an attempt to protect yourself from every word that was leaving his mouth. he had already proved over and over again that he didn’t care about you — that he didn’t love you. so why couldn’t he allow you to finally leave and rid yourself from all this pain?

“stop. i can’t hear any of your lies before, really. i’m done with this too now, just like you are. shouldn’t you be happy now?” and yet again you felt your throat tighten. did kenma actually enjoy this? did he get some sick sense of pleasure from seeing you so hurt, so broken? why couldn’t he just let you go when this was what he made you believe he wanted?

“no one here that will annoy you when you’re gaming, no one that will force you to actually eat and no one that will drag you away from your pc so you can see the sun for at least five minutes. sounds like a dream, doesn’t it?”

“no,“ he denied, reaching out for you, only to see you back away even more.

“no? but that’s what you wanted” you refused to look at him, instead carefully and slowly making your way over to your suitcases.

kenma however didn’t want to see you go, his hand grabbing your arm in a desperate attempt to keep you here, by his side. “no it’s not”

you used your free hand to peel his from your arm, shaking your head again in defeat. “well, that’s what you got now at least”

he stood there frozen as he watched you grab the handles of your suitcases, taking a deep breath before you spoke again, this time with your back to him.

“you know, i really wanted us to last, kenma. i really did. i tried to talk to you about this, i wanted to work this out together. but you never listened” you sighed, not being able to stop a sad smile appearing on your lips. “kind of ironic that you do now”

you could feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. you could feel the hope rising in your chest, feeling relief at the thought of leaving this place. as you were about to step out, you stopped in your tracks, but refused to turn around. instead you glanced over to the window, seeing just how heavy the snow has gotten over the last hour. you clenched your jaw. “i asked tetsurou to come over later. i know you don’t like being alone at home when there’s supposed to be a snowstorm”

when you stepped even further away from him, finally reaching the door, kenma was ripped out of his frozen state, jumping forward and grabbing your arm once again. “(y/n), no!” he yelled out. 

your jaw clenched as soon as he touched you again, your mind falling into a loop of yelling at you to simply rip yourself away from him and leave without any other word and the other part simply begging him to finally let you go. you took a deep breath. “you’re going to close your eyes and let go of me. you’re going to count to ten. and when you open your eyes again, i’ll be gone”

it seemed so easy for him to hurt you over and over again, and yet he couldn’t seem to let you go. did he love to see you in such pain and misery? did he really just want to hurt you? 

“please don’t do this to me,“ kenma begged, his voice significantly more hoarse than before.

you scoffed. it’s not like you were doing this all just to hurt him — you simply wanted to be better, more than just feel blue day in and day out. you wanted to live again, not rot with a boyfriend that didn’t give a damn about you. “let go of me”

he grew more and more desperate, pulling on your sleeves like a child. “please don’t do this to us!”

“there is no ‘us’, kenma!” you finally yelled at him, confirming not just to him, but really to yourself that you actually meant what you said and wrote down. you were over and there was nothing he could do to change it. “didn’t you hear me? it’s gone”

“i love you!” he yelled back, his voice breaking. “i love you, i love you so much, please” 

and even though you were so relieved to finally leave, in this moment, you halted. 

love.

oh, how much you had loved him. 

after a deep, almost silent sigh, you looked back at him, seeing kenma with his head hanging low. “i would’ve given you everything to hear that just a few weeks ago. i gave you everything i had. and i would’ve been so incredibly happy” a smile spread over your face and you allowed yourself to fall for the illusion that his confession gave you. in some other universe you would hear these words daily, spoken with so much care and adoration, more than you could ever imagine. you would fall into his arms and kiss him sweetly and passionately and at the end of the day fall asleep in your shared bed, your bodies intertwined. you would be happy. “but now?”

“(y/n), please,“ he whispered.

“no. you’re too late”

and with that you shook him off off you again, finally opening the door, the cold air in the hallway hitting your face. 

behind you, kenma fell down to his knees, a lump in his throat, as he reached out for you, only to pull back immediately after. “please, i’m sorry! i’ll be better, i’ll change, i promise!”

you didn’t look at him, not wanting to see him in such a state. “i’m so sorry” 

pathetic — that was what he was right now. carelessly toying with your feelings and now that you just couldn’t take it anymore and left him, he suddenly seemed to have an epiphany. like a child that always ignored a toy, only to throw a fit as soon as another one wanted to play with it.

“i don’t want to hear your apologies. they don’t mean anything, kenma. they’re worthless” you spat at him, still staring at the grey wall ahead. “you can’t just keep apologizing and not change anything. i’m so sick of it, i can’t take it anymore” you clenched your jaw, shutting your eyes to prevent just a single tear from falling. “i can’t get my hopes up only for you to crush them every time”

“i never wanted us to end,” he whispered, hands falling into his lap. “especially not like this. you have to believe me. please, let me fix it”

you shook your head.

“it doesn’t matter what you wanted. what matters is what you did. and what you did was hurt me. over and over, again and again” you huffed, looking down and a sad smile on your lips. “there’s only so much i can take,” your voice broke, leaving you with no choice but to clear your throat and shake your head. you promised yourself that you wouldn’t start crying here. you had cried enough already in this apartment.

“and there’s nothing you can do to fix it. you can’t reset”

you turned your back to him, only to face him again a couple of seconds later, clenching your fists at your side. after taking a deep breath, you spoke again. “it’s over, kenma” 

without waiting any longer you grabbed your two suitcases standing next to the door and walked out, careful not to slam the door behind you. while you dragged your luggage down, careful not to trip as your eyes filled with tears and constantly swallowing the lump in your throat, kenma still stood in the hallway, staring at the spot in which you stood just a few minutes ago, completely dazed. 

it was only when you were long gone, after your friend had picked you up and allowed you to cry your heart out on their shoulder, did kenma feel like he could finally move. he was about to turn around and leave when he noticed a white ball laying on the floor. with a shaky hand he went and picked it up, only to realize that it was your letter, the only thing you had left behind for him.

clutching it into his chest he sank down on his knees, hunching over as he felt the tears pooling out of his eyes.

finally kenma realized that what you said was true. there was nothing he could do to fix this and get you back, there were no save points to return, no data to delete to start over and no cheat codes to enter.

it was game over.

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Missed | Ethan Edwards x Fem!reader

Warnings: language, smut? Breeding kinks (spitting, slapping, and pet names),

Summary: ethan takes you back home, and you guys celebrate the new coming summer season with eachother before you left for Utah.

💭: first time writing for ethan!!!

NOT PROOF READ

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Finals are starting, summers kicking in. Graduation is coming.

Spring time sucks. Rainfall everyday, hot humid nights, warm bodies laying next to another.

Warm air heating my neck as I sit in his bed.

Ethan’s massive legs take a hold over my hips. Lying over me, his whole body rests ontip of me. He seems completely relaxed and comfortable, I don’t move for his sake.

No blankets needed, fans on settting five, cold air blowing at me, windows are open, the dorm room provided by campus is so smalll, crammed, hot. Mark shares one with Ethan, and I of course as Ethan’s girlfriend have to hear both of them snore.

I reach my hand out to find the top of eddys headboard. I grab my AirPods and set them in my ear. I blast Ethan’s song he plays everytime we hangout.

I just told Ethan that I’ll be going to Utah for a week with my family, if he wanted, he is more than welcome to come. Of course, he said no.

After school ends fully, I won’t see him. I’m sure he’ll be out in Ohio with the rest of the umich team. Every morning when I sleepover in the boys room, Phil sends me a text asking if mark and Ethan are awake.

Everytime, it’s “no.”

Phil always works out with these two, they go to the yost training center, and I normally go out with Farah and Khi.

I move Ethan’s arm over my shoulder so I can breathe easier, he moves his head and grunts in pain.

“Ow. Fuck, y/n. My arm. My back. Shit- fuc- ow!” Ethan moans out. He rubs his eyes and kissed me on my cheek. The song replays and replays and replays.

“Is that Glory box? Give me a side.” Ethan takes an AirPod out of my ear, he stuffs it into his fitting ear and listens to our sex song.

He lays on his belly and I get up to straddle over him. On my knuckles I rub out his back. Apparently, I was poking his back all night with my knee. Wrong.

It’s 7:38, mark and Farah are still sleeping. Ethan rolls over and just stand up on his bed. Letting cool air take my body. Ethan grabs my hand, helping me down his bed. Swiftly, he stuff his head into a shirt.

I wear a black sports bra and pink shorts from lululemon. Matching Eddy. He wears this hot pick shirt, and black shorts. To cover his bad bed head he sets a hat over his head and he walks me to me car.

I have a house that I share with my friends, Hara, Piper and Elly. Ethan drives me in my car back to my house. We arrive, taking my hand Ethan walks me to my door. I unlock the front door with my keys and head inside. Ethan isn’t supposed to be around anymore, because he got into it with Pipers boyfriend- Ryan, he goes to MSU.

I sneak Ethan upstairs into my bathroom. He lays on my bed while I brush my teeth and he watches me, we talk while I get my hair ready for the day.

“Do you want to shower?” He asks me, he gets up, walking towards me. Pressing his shaft into my hips. Connections like a puzzle. I need him with me right here and right now.

Without hesitation he takes me and turns me around. He walks towards the shower and turns it to burning hot water.

“You know I prefer it cold when we fuck.” I whine. I kiss him with my fresh breath.

Letting the water heat up I tell him to brush his teeth, get his hair ready for me to massage in the shower after we have fun.

“Y/n! You home?” Hara yells for me as she walks into my room. She lends a knock into my door as she stands next to my closet door. Looking into the bathroom she said she saw my car outside and was wondering if I made it home.

“Oh, hey dev.” Hara nods over at Ethan.

“Looking good H. How’s Will doing?” Ethan making conversation as he looks at himself in the mirror. He fixes up his hair, brushing through it.

“You look yummy.” I say whispering into his ear. I stand on my tiptoes, letting me heart set into my stomach. “Hey Ra-ra, can you grab me a coffee and a sandwich from down the street? I’ll give you money.” I ask Hara.

I’m starving.

Starving for Ethan, and actual food.

The steam covers the mirror and hara leaves to grab my food. Ethan locks the door of my bedroom and my bathroom. He throws his clothes off. He slips his boxers off. I can see his hard cock. I’m not sure what had him turned on, but he’s getting me horny.

I’m his, he’s mine.

“Turn.” He instructed me. I turn around. “Arms.”

I lift my arms. Standing in T position, Ethan slides my bra off, the sports bra off, he slowly sets his hand into my shorts. Sliding them off, he seees I’ve gone commando. No thong, nothing under.

Bare skin, body to body.

His brown hair, Al over my shoulders. Ethan’s marks all over my shoulders.

Hickeys, screams, pleasure, and release.

He takes me into the shower. The hot water hits my hair, my body jolts up in energy. Ethan takes my hand and places it onto his lower abdomen. Just above his cock, that slapped against his torso, my hand slips down onto his balls as I lower myself into my knees.

Ethan leans back onto the shower walls, my head leans back, looking up, I get excited myself.

Ethan grips ibto my hair. My head feeling the pressure of his hold, I rest my hands onto his cock. I kick my lips to give myself to prepare.

I lick the tip of Ethan, and he hits his head against the wall, he lifts his hips towards my mouth. I shoved half of his dick into my mouth.

I suck, I lick, I jerk.

Taking my empty left hand and start massaging his balls, whispering his name. Ethan groans and smiles. Smirks. Laugh. My right hand holding into his other half of his cock. In a swift motion I jerk him off and lick the tip.

Letting him cum into my mouth I lift his cock up. After letting him release into me, I stand up, kissing him I use my tounge to distribute his cum back into his mouth.

His swallows his substance. Taking me, he grips into my hips, dipping me in the shower. He kisses me from my neck down to my knees. I feel his warm spit all over my body. The shower pricks at my feet. The water hits my ass, Ethan picks me up.

He holds me up and he pushes me against the wall. He sticks his hard cock inside of me. The water no longer hits me, but reaches his back. He groans in the disbelief. Still as ethan lifts me, he holds me up, giving me time to take him in.

“oh my gid. You feel so good.” He doesn’t stop his movement. He lowers me down to the ground. My toes touch the wet floor of the shower.

He grunts as he pulls out. I look down to the ground, he cummed a second time. I still need to be relaxed.

Ethan sits me down on the ledge of my shower that holds my shampoo and conditioner. I can feel the cold of the tile on my ass. Ethan spits out water from the shower head all over me. He sets me back. My legs over his shoulders. He sicks his penis inside of me.

“Too bi-“ I exasperated as I feel him inside of me. He thrusted one time and fitted everything inside. I look down to his chest, his abs contract every time he hits my bottom. He takes one of my breast and holds it in his hands while he takes his motions smoothly. Not stopping ethan lifts his head back.

“You’ve taken it before princess.” Ethan takes my nipple and twists it between his index finger and thumb. I feel my release coming.

“Baby. I’m coming.” I yell out. I’m sure our neighbors can hear us.

He bangs his hand above me on the wall. He thrusts faster, and harder.

“Keep it in.”

“You’re such a slut for me.”

“Whore”.

~

After our fun, I sit Ethan down on the ledge he fucjed me on. I washed his hair. And I finished cleaning myself up. Ethan runs out of the shower to grab us a towel. He comes back dry. I turn the knob off.

The water stops. “You’re gonna miss me when I leave!” I yell out as he opens the door to the shower.

He gives me the towel he used to dry off. He smiles as he walks me back to the bed. I wrapped my hair in the towel and I sit dry, in the bed. Waiting for ethan to join.

“I have to go.” He said.

Um, hell no.

“No, I’m leaving next week. You aren’t leaving to go play on your X box or whatever you have.” I fight with him.

“No I have to go because the snobs car is outside.” He said as he sliddd in his clothes.

The “snob” is that guy from MSU that Piper is dating.

“And no, I’m not going to miss you. After today it’ll feel like you’ll be with me all day everyday.” He walks out of my room.

Hara walks into my room with my coffee and sandwich. “Where is he going? I thigh you guys were having fun. I mean it sounded like it.” She mentioned.

Dman.

“No he had to leave. And yeah, we had fun.” I laughed.

~

I left for Utah. It’s been two days since I’ve arrived. Ethan’s sent me texts like all day.

“I miss you so much.”

“You should leave and come to me.”

“I should just suprise you one day.”

~

I walk out of my burning bedroom door.

Summer is finally here. My mom called me, telling me something special came for me. Weird.

I see my brown haired boy. I run into his arms.

“I’ve missed you.” He wishers into my ear. “Shower later?” He laughs as he takes me down from our hug.

he missed me.

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 3

Holy hell, guys. Seriously, I love you all. And just seeing the sheer amount of LOVE this story is getting makes me so happy.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1 Part 2

*

Eddie was wrong. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was wrong and that was uncomfortable. On the other it meant that whatever was going on with Steve he didn’t care about his reputation anymore and that was always a good thing.

He had walked out of the school doors to the parking lot after school to see a Steve Harrington leaning against his van, just like yesterday.

“Harrington,” Eddie said, “this is a surprise.”

Steve ducked his head. “If you don’t want me to be here, I can leave.”

Eddie held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa there. I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised you took me up on the offer is all. Last time I checked your lot doesn’t throw in with mine.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “It does now. Now that I don’t have anyone else.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he cocked his head. “I thought you and Nancy Wheeler were hot and heavy.”

The very idea of the two of them made him gag. Hetros. Freaking insane, man.

“We broke up on Halloween,” Steve murmured.

Eddie blinked. He had been at that party. To sell, of course, he hadn’t been invited. Had even seen Wheeler storm off, but he really hadn’t thought much about it.

“What bridges haven’t you burned?” he asked in all seriousness.

“My kids,” Steve said. “I’d do anything for them.”

“Okay, that’s going to have to take some explanation,” Eddie said, shoving his hands in his back pockets.

Steve looked around the van and gulped. “Can we take this somewhere else?”

Eddie looked over and saw Nancy and some other guy being all cutesy. “Yeah. Come on, hop in. I’ll bring back later to pick up your car when the lot’s no longer crawling with people who want to do you in.”

Steve sighed in relief, his body fulling relaxing for the first time since Eddie started this journey. He moved around to the other side of the van and got in once Eddie unlocked the door.

“Where to, my liege?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“Is the quarry okay?” Steve asked shyly.

Eddie’s grin softened to a smile. “Sure thing, pretty boy.” He started the van and pulled out on to the open road, leaving behind the messy turmoil that was high school.

They made it out to quarry and Eddie climbed up on the top of his van. Steve looked up at him in amazement.

“Uh, how am I supposed to get up there?” Steve asked.

Eddie leaned over the side and held out his hand. “Grab hold.”

Steve looked at it a moment and then back up at Eddie. He looked into those doe brown eyes and sighed. He planted one foot against the side of the van and then took Eddie’s hand.

And was promptly vaulted to the top of the van.

“Holy shit!” Steve said once he was settled next to Eddie. “You’re strong.”

Eddie laughed. “It comes from all the lugging equipment around for my band. And helping out with stage crew.”

“Wow, you have a band?” Steve asked.

Eddie nodded. “Corroded Coffin. It’s a metal band, we play at the Hideout every week.”

Steve bit his lip. “I don’t know much about metal. I tend to go for alt rock bands like Oingo Boingo, Depeche Mode, REM, Tears for Fears...I bet that was a load of gibberish for you.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m familiar with a couple of them,” he admitted. “Not my thing. But I would have pegged you for a pop vibe.”

Steve scoffed. “I have some taste, man.”

Eddie laughed. “I’d beg to differ, but sure. You do you, dude.”

Steve bumped Eddie’s shoulder. “Go on, then. Impress me with your metal bands, since mine are such shit.”

“My favorite is Metalica,” Eddie said, bumping Steve back. “But I like Mercyful Fate, Dio, Poison.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “And I thought my bands had weird names.”

“What the hell is a Depeche Mode anyway?” Eddie fired back.

“What is a Metalica?” Steve replied.

Eddie opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “All right, you got me there.”

“I was talking to Mrs Hall today about my schedule,” Steve said, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. “I have to drop basketball and baseball. It’s too late to drop swimming, but I talked to Coach Burton and he said I should be cleared for competition I just have to see the swimming board’s doctor for final confirmation.”

“So suddenly you have two classes opened up?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, my last two,” Steve mumbled into his knees. He lifted his head with a sigh. “She won’t let me just drop them and not pick up new classes even though the semester half way through.”

“So you thought about what to fill those slots with?”

“She gave me a list of options,” Steve grumbled and dug the paper out of his pocket. He handed it to Eddie.

Eddie looked over the options. “Debate, would double as extra English credit...” he mumbled reading what Mrs Hall had wrote. “Can’t see you doing that one, if I’m honest.”

Steve shook his head. “Me either. I know it’s not just arguing. But I know they can get heated. I don’t need complete strangers yelling at me when I get that enough at home.”

Eddie nodded. “Choir. Can you sing?”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, actually. But I’ve never wanted to join the choir.”

Eddie frowned. “Why not?”

Steve cleared his throat and looked away. “My vocal coach said that I don’t blend well and am very loud.”

Eddie bumped into Steve’s shoulder. “Soloist only, then?”

Steve nodded.

“Sounds like you’d be great at metal singing,” he continued. “Very loud and very in your face.”

Steve laughed. “Whatever you say, man. But no, choir is out.”

Eddie looked back at the list. “Machine work?”

Steve shook his head. “My dad would kill me.”

“Too blue collar for your dad?” he asked. Steve nodded. “I gotcha.”

“Stage crew,” Eddie continued.

Steve sighed. “I thought about that one, but like with the machine work it’s too ‘blue collar’ for my dad. Plus with my concussion, I’m pretty sure either option would be out.”

Eddie cocked his head and clicked his tongue. “Fair enough.” He looked over the list. “Pottery?”

Steve laughed. “Sure, why not? That’s one.”

Eddie nodded. He mentally crossed out all the classes that were seventh period, focusing only on the class that were eighth.

“Hmm...” he murmured pursing his lips. “Looks like what you’ve got left is geology and drama.”

Steve reared his head back. “What the hell is geology?”

Eddie shook his head. “I have no idea, but it’s obviously a science-y thing.”

Steve let out a bitter laugh. “I guess it’s pottery and drama.” He buried his face in his knees again. “I know my reputation is already in tatters but fuck those kids in those classes are going to tear me to pieces.”

Eddie blinked. The mystery that was Steve Harrington was like following a rabbit down a hole, and coming up to Wonderland. “You’re more concerned that they’re going to make fun of you then you are of your old friends making fun of you?”

Steve lifted his head. “Well sure. I know Tommy and them are going to make fun of me even if I stayed on both teams. That’s a given. They’ve got King Billy to follow now and they’re gonna get vicious with it. But no, the real problem comes from the art geeks coming for me because I have invaded their space.”

Eddie almost brought up the drawing class Steve was already in, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He shrugged. “So tell them truth. Tell them you had course correct because of a concussion. Be honest and defer to them in all things.”

“I’m also going to be the only senior in those classes, man,” Steve groused.

Eddie cocked his head. “Yeah, probably. But what else have you got?”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “Nothing.”

They lapsed into silence. Just sitting there for awhile looking out over the quarry.

After some time, Eddie bumped Steve’s shoulder again. “So you want to tell me about ‘your kids’?”

Steve frowned.

“Burned bridges, people who haven’t given up on Steve Harrington?” Eddie prompted.

Steve lit up. “Oh yeah. Sorry, man, it’s just the...” he pointed to his face. Eddie nodded. “I still don’t know how I got roped into dealing with these assholes, but yeah. There are six of them now. Started with Dustin Henderson. Smart kid, smarter than most adults I know. Then it expanded to his friends, which includes the little brothers of my ex and her new boyfriend, Jonathan Byers, and of course Lucas Sinclair. And then I picked up El or Jane. I’m not sure which one she prefers, most people call her El though. And then there’s Max.”

“Five boys and a girl?” Eddie asked, his face twisting awkwardly. “Congrats?”

Steve laughed. “Max is short for Maxine. But don’t you dare call her that.”

Eddie blinked. “Max Mayfield? As in Billy Hargrove’s step-sister?”

Steve tilted his head back. “Yeah...but I don’t think I could separate her from the group now if I tried. And besides, she’d kick my ass.”

“You are an enigma wrapped in a mystery, man,” Eddie said.

Steve looked over at him. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

Tag List: @evix-syne666 @renaissan-vvitch @deadlydodos @scarletzgo @messrs-weasley @kodaik97 @thedragonsaunt @butterflysandpeppermint @gregre369 @nelotegreitic @sundead @artiststarme @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @thing-a-ling @anaibis @garden-of-gay @matchingbatbites @spectrum-spectre @winterbuckwild @steve-the-hairrington @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @babyblender @cursedfoxteeth @novelnovella @throwbackthrowaway @strangersteddierthings @shrimply-a-menace @emly03

[eddieschains]

Is It Actually Over?

A/N: this is a repost from when i first started my blog

Word Count: 1.2k

Part 1

TW// cheating, angst

“Whose baby is that?” Eddie questions the both of you. You look at Steve, who’s looking between you and Eddie.

“Hey Eddie.” Steve greets him with a shaky hand. Eddie ignores him and continues staring at the sleeping child in the car seat.

“Is anyone going to answer my question? Or am I just supposed to know?” You and Steve look at each other, searching for what to say. “Is she yours Harrington? Knock some poor girl up that decided she didn’t want you anymore?”

“Eddie! Stop it!” You yell at him. You motion at Steve to give you the keys to the apartment and you unlock the door, ushering Eddie inside. “You should come inside.”

You had already moved most of your furniture inside so there would be less to bring on the actual move in day. Eddie takes a seat on the hand me down couch your grandmother gifted you, as you sit in the recliner across from him. Steve sets the baby down next to you as he leaves to bring all the boxes inside.

“What’s her name?” Eddie questions, his eyes never leaving the child.

“Kelsey.” You respond, a soft smile gracing your lips.

“How can you and Steve have a kid? I’ve only been gone 7 months. Were you- were you cheating on me?” He finally looks up to meet your eyes.

“No Eddie, I would never. She’s… uh… she’s not his.” Your voice is shaky. You weren’t prepared to have this talk today, or any time soon for that matter.

You can see Eddie’s eyes welling up once again, a single tear falling from his left eye. “Are you saying that… that she’s mine?”

Steve carries the final box into the kitchen, listening in on your conversation wondering if he should stay with you or make his way to one of the bedrooms. He decides to unpack the box labeled kitchen first. That way he can give you guys your space while also keeping a close eye on things to make sure nothing goes wrong.

“Yes… she’s yours Eddie.” He lets out a laugh of disbelief, shaking his head.

“No no how- how can that be? You would’ve told me.” He protests. “And… and we used protection every time.”

“I didn’t find out until after you left. Apparently condoms don’t work 100% of the time. I wanted to tell you, I did. But you didn’t really give me a chance.” You scoff. “You didn’t leave a number Eddie. You didn’t leave a number or and address or anything. Was I supposed to just go to LA and roam the streets until I found you?”

“You knew where Wayne lived. He would’ve told you.” He stares into his lap, sniffling his tears away.

“Yeah let me just knock on Wayne’s door and tell him I need your number because i’m pregnant with your baby while you’re 2,000 miles away. That sounds like a great idea.” You stand up from your seat in the living room, walking into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Eddie is still sat down, looking over at Kelsey again. “Can I at least hold her?”

You turn to Steve, looking for advice. He reaches for your hand giving it a squeeze. A silent let him glowing in his eyes. You finish your water, before making your way back to the living room. You pull Kelsey out of her seat, holding her as you sit down next to Eddie.

You don’t give her up quite yet. You look down at her, admiring her features as Eddie does the same. You never noticed how much she looks like him until now. Or maybe you just didn’t want to believe it. She had his thick curly brown hair, his full pink lips, and his wide brown eyes. The more you look at her, you realize the only thing she had of yours was your nose.

You take a deep breath in before handing her over to Eddie. He lays her in his arm, supporting her head with the crook of his elbow while he plays with her soft ball of curls.

“She’s beautiful.” He smiles.

“She looks like you.” You smile back. Steve senses the tension starting to fade, so he makes his way over to you. Sitting on the couch with a comforting hand placed on your thigh.

“What’s her full name?”

“Kelsey Anne Munson.” He looks up at you, trying to fight back tears for the third time today. Anne was his mothers name. Even though you thought Eddie would never come back, you still wanted Kelsey to know the people that she came from.

“After my mom? Or am I being conceited in thinking that?” A chuckle leaves your mouth.

“No. She’s named after your mom.” You smile, kissing the top of her forehead. Eddie smiles with a slight glimmer of tears welling up in his eyes as he hands her back to you, laying her back into the warmth of her mothers arms.

“So you guys are raising her together? So Steve- Steve’s like her… dad?”

Steve shakes his head. “I may be helping raise her but you’ll always be her dad, man.” Eddie smiles at Steve before returning his focus on you and Kelsey. Steve stands up to grab his keys off the kitchen table. “I’m gonna go to the grocery store so we have something to eat tonight. I’ll let you guys catch up some more.” He smiles before walking over to you, placing a kiss on your forehead and making his way out the door.

You and Eddie sit in silence for a few minutes, just admiring what the two of you created.

“So… we made a baby.” He interrupts the silence, rubbing Kelsey’s little feet.

“Yeah, yeah we did.” You chuckle, looking him in the eyes. His eyes are void of sadness. You see nothing but love glimmering in his pupils. This is the man you fell in love with. This is the man you planned on spending your whole life with. The man filled with nothing but love. You don’t realize how long you were staring at him until he pulls away for a second.

“I missed you. A lot.” Eddie admits. “I should’ve called, I should’ve come back. I shouldn’t have even left in the first place. I’m so sor-“

“Shh. It doesn’t matter. You’re here now, with your daughter. That’s all that matters Eds.” Eds. His favorite nickname. He’d never felt more content than in this moment. All the fighting before, it didn’t matter. All he cared about was that you were here.

Suddenly, his hand reaches around your neck pulling you closer to him. “Eddie… what are you doing?” Before you can get a response from him, his lips are on yours. His lips are just as soft as you remembered, and his taste, god his taste, a perfect mixture of tobacco and his favorite mint gum.

You fall deep into the kiss, your arm that isn’t holding Kelsey up snaking around to the back of his head. Your fingers intertwine with his curls, pulling lightly. Eddie moans softly into the kiss, moving one hand down your hip.

It feels like time itself has halted. The world has stopped turning. Nothing and no one left but you, your daughter, and Eddie. Neither of you pay attention to the sound of the door opening until you hear footsteps approaching.

“Steve…”

[firstkanaphans]

You teased 1 for the smut prompt for AkkAyan in your last fic. They won’t go straight to hell for road head if the car is parked

Ah, yes. You found the loophole. I actually really like how this one turned out so I hope you do as well 🫶🏻 Word Count: 1600ish

{going} down on them in the backseat of a car     

Aye was drunk—pleasantly so, but drunk nevertheless. They were at a bar celebrating Kan’s twenty-first birthday, but Aye had lost interest in the party. In fact, he seemed to have lost interest in everything that wasn’t Akk. He was sidled up next to him in the half of the booth they shared and he had his chin tucked flirtatiously over his shoulder. Every time Akk’s attention dared to wander over to their friends for even a second, Aye’s hand would start to snake its way up his thigh.

The third time this happened, Akk clamped his hand down on Aye’s and listened as he giggled.

“Not here,” he hissed into Aye’s ear. Aye shivered as if his words were foreplay and not a genuine admonishment.

“Then where?” he asked.

“At home,” Akk answered. Where respectable people had sex. Obviously.

Aye pouted up at him, his eyes wide and forlorn. “But I don’t want to wait that long.”

“Well, you’re going to have to.”

“Please, Akk. Don’t make me.” He fluttered his eyelashes as if he thought that might help curry Akk's favor and then his hand started to drift up Akk’s thigh once more… 

Akk was done. He couldn’t take this anymore. He stood, causing Aye, whose head had still been resting on his shoulder, to tip sideways into the booth.

“We’re leaving,” he announced to the table at large, holding a hand out to help Aye up. Aye beamed. “Happy Birthday, Kan.”

“Happy Birthday, Kan!” Aye agreed, addressing the birthday boy for the first time in an hour. Akk didn’t give him a chance to say anything more. He grabbed his boyfriend by the hand and dragged him out of the bar before he could embarrass either of them further.

“Where are we going?” Aye asked eagerly as they stepped out into the parking lot. There were a few people milling about, but for the most part, everyone was still inside. The heavy bass from the live band carried out into the night.

“I’m taking you home.”

“But I don’t want to go home,” Aye whined, grinding suddenly to a halt and refusing to let Akk drag him any further. 

Akk sighed, coming to a stop a few steps ahead of him. “Well then where do you want to go?”

“I want to have sex,” Aye said as if Akk might have forgotten.

“Yes,” Akk agreed. “At home. Where I’m taking you.” 

Akk tried to continue walking, but Aye still refused to move. “I don’t want to wait until we get home.”

“Then you can jerk off in the car. Now, come on.”

This time, Aye followed him, but he didn’t seem happy about it. He stomped along behind him like an insolent child.

Akk took the keys out of his pocket to unlock his car door, but before he could even press the button, Aye—in a burst of speed and agility Akk hadn’t thought him capable of in his current inebriated state—shook Akk’s grip from his wrist, snatched the keys from his hand, and ran around the car to jump in the backseat on the other side like they were playing some drunken game of tag. Akk was so surprised by the sudden burst of energy that he made no move to stop him. He just stood there, cursing his luck.

Aye slid over to his side of the car and grinned at him through the window.

“Aye, give me the keys,” Akk demanded, trying to sound stern. Aye giggled and shook his head, clearly not intimidated. “Aye, come on. Please. I can’t drive without the keys.” Aye giggled some more and then patted the back seat next to him in offering, silently asking Akk to join him inside. And what else was Akk supposed to do at this point? He had to get his keys back somehow. So he opened the car door and climbed inside.

“Now what?” he asked stubbornly. He needn’t have. Aye made his intentions perfectly clear when, as soon as the car door swung shut behind him, he pressed his lips to Akk’s. 

Akk immediately pushed him away, his cheeks burning. “Aye, no. We can’t,” he said, looking out the window in search of anyone who might be watching. No one was. Aye cocked his head in confusion.

“Why not?” he asked in a whisper.

“Because we’re in a car!”

Aye waited for him to say more, but when he didn’t, he snorted. “Oh, stop being such a prefect,” he said, and then he kissed him again. This time—either because of the challenge in Aye’s voice or simply desire—Akk kissed him back.

Even drunk, Aye was a good kisser. So good, in fact, that Akk was starting to think he might not be as drunk as he let on. He tangled his fingers in Akk’s hair, kissed him deeply, and for a few moments, it was sweet. Innocent, even. And then Aye’s fingers found the zipper of Akk’s pants.

“Aye,” Akk warned.

“I’ll be quick,” Aye said, quieting him with a kiss.

And in his defense, he was quick. Within seconds, Akk’s pants were undone and Aye was breaking their kiss to pull them down just far enough for his cock to spring free.

“Aye, seriously. We can’t—”

“I’m going to suck your dick now,” Aye interrupted bluntly, and then, without another word, he leaned down and took Akk into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Akk groaned, looking frantically out the window, expecting to find someone staring back at him through the pane—a witness to his sins—but although there were still people moseying about, none were close enough to see them. Still, knowing they were there, just on the other side of the glass? It made him feel like he was being watched. His blood caught fire.

Aye smirked around his dick, pleased to have finally quieted his arguments, and then he took him deeper.

The back seat of Akk’s car was cramped. Akk was on one side, half-turned toward Aye with his head resting back against the cool window behind him. Aye was sprawled out on the other, his ass in the air as he bent down to suck Akk’s cock like it was the reason he had been put on this earth. There was no stopping him now—not because Aye wouldn’t if he asked, but because Akk no longer wanted to. Like Aye said, his best hope was to get it over with quickly. Preferably before they were arrested for public indecency. 

So he tangled his fingers in Aye’s hair and began showing him exactly how he wanted to be pleasured. Aye was a fast learner. He sped up at Akk’s instruction, leaving Akk free to just lean back, close his eyes, and enjoy it. But the closer he got to the edge, the more he realized it wasn’t enough to just sit passively by as Aye did all the work. He wanted Aye to feel the thrill of exposure too.

“Goddamn it,” he cursed under his breath. What had this boy done to his sense of decorum? "You're going to kill me one of these days, you know that?"

He reached down, feeling blindly for the front of Aye’s pants, and although the angle wasn’t great, Aye was aroused enough that it wasn’t difficult to find his erection and massage him through his jeans. Aye thrust into his hand, just as hungry as Akk was, but Akk couldn't figure out how to unbuckle Aye's belt one-handed.

When Aye realized what he was trying to do, he reached down to help. Soon, he was shimmying out of his pants without ever once breaking his rhythm on Akk’s cock. Once his dick was finally free, Akk licked his palm and used his saliva as lube to begin stroking Aye in time to his racing heartbeat. It felt woefully inadequate compared to the warm, wet heat of Aye's mouth, but he did what he could.

“Fuck,” Akk hissed as Aye swallowed him down so deep that he could feel his cock pressed against the back of his throat. “Yeah. Just like that.”

Aye smirked up at him from his lap and then grabbed Akk’s hand and tangled it back in his hair, silently asking Akk to do what he had done before. To guide him. To use him however he wanted.

And so Akk did.

He held Aye still as he fucked into his mouth and in the quiet of the night, all he could hear were the sounds of his own moans echoing overtop their lovemaking and it was so loud in the small space, so intimate, that he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. With a few final thrusts, he came down Aye’s throat.

As soon as he was completely spent, Akk collapsed back against the window breathing heavily as Aye cleaned his cock with his tongue. Once he was done, he smiled up at him, his eyes sparkling with happiness despite his swollen lips.

Akk couldn’t help himself. He lunged for Aye, pushing him down onto the other side of the back seat and kissing him fiercely. He reached for Aye’s still-hard cock and began stroking him in earnest once more.

“Akk,” Aye moaned, not even trying to keep quiet. The sound of his name on Aye’s lips excited him. How had he gotten so lucky? What had he done to deserve someone like Aye? Aye was still the only person who could get him out of his head. The only person who could convince him to be reckless and spontaneous and wild. The only person who could convince him to live.

Aye came all over himself, Akk’s hand, and the back seat of his car and Akk stared down at the mess with a defeated sigh as Aye laughed.

“This is your fault,” Akk said.

“Not this time,” Aye said lazily. “You should have been a good boy and swallowed like I did.”

Akk feigned smacking him with the hand still covered in come and Aye laughed again. But Akk wasn’t mad. Not really. Aye was more than worth the mess.

[naturesapphic]

Her baby

Mommy!melanie martinez x little!fem!reader

Warnings: age regression, fluff, reader being scared of loud noises, lactation

You weren’t supposed to drop. Not right now. Melanie was busy performing and here you were on the side with some of the extra dancers and directors who was making sure everything was running smoothly, and you were deep into your headspace. You guessed it was because of how loud everything was and you just immediately shut down. When Melanie went off stage to get her portals gear on you heard one of the dancers tell Melanie what was happening and she hurriedly went over to you before she had her mask put on for portals.

“Baby? Are you okay?” She said loudly since you had noise cancelling headphones on and couldn’t really hear her unless she was right by you and raising her voice. You whimpered slightly and nodded your head slowly. Melanie knew you weren’t okay but she had a show to do and couldn’t just cancel, especially since it was almost over. She went over to one of the security guards and whispered something in his ear which confused you.

Melanie went back over to you and quickly gave you a quick peck on your lips and forehead “I have to go now babygirl but mommy will be right back. This nice man is going to go ahead and take you to the bus so you don’t have to listen to anymore loud noises okay?” She explained to you and you nodded your head as you waved bye to your mommy as she went over to the makeup and hair people to get her mask on. The nice security man gave you a warm smile and went outside at the back of the building where the bus was at.

He went up to it and put the passcode in, unlocking the door and he helps you inside. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything. Don’t hesitate little one.” He said kindly and you gave him a small but grateful smile as he closed the door as he went outside of the bus to keep watch. It was about thirty minutes later when the door opened and there came Melanie rushing in to see you. “Babygirl! How are you feeling. Are you okay?” She said quickly but calmly.

Ever since she had to leave you to finish her concert she had the worst anxiety knowing that you weren’t okay and you just needed her, but she was here now and that’s what matters. You looked up and saw your mommy coming towards you with a calm look on her face but you knew better than that, you knew she wasn’t calm. You put down your toys and got up on your feet running to your mommy. You jumped in her arms and she caught you with a giggle as you clung to her. “I Otay mommy! Jus nu wike loud noises…” you pouted at the end and she nodded her head in understanding.

“I understand baby. Next time I’ll just leave you on the bus and have security near you at all times so you don’t have to hear the loud noises.” Melanie stated and you smiled up at her. “Tank chu mama.” You said happily and she sighed happily, thankful that her baby is content and okay. “I would do anything for my little bug.” She said and you nuzzled your head against her plump chest which meant that you were tired and was ready to nurse. Melanie went to the back of the bus where the bunks were and let you crawl in first before Melanie went in behind you.

She lifted up her shirt and took off her bra, letting her chest fall free. Your eyes was locked onto her chest as you admired them, even though you’ve seen them many times. She pulled you close to her and cupped the back of your head and guided your lips to her nipple. You started suckling on her chest immediately and made cute soft suckling noises that Melanie found absolutely adorable. Not long after, you fell asleep and once melanie knew you were out, she let herself fall asleep too.

A/n: I had this in my head so I decided to write it. I hope yall enjoy! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love yall! :)

[gunilslaugh]

Guy In Apartment 12c

Goo Gunil

Summary: Everyone in your apartment complex warned you to stay away from the guy who lives in apartment 12c. That would probably be easier to do if you didn’t live right across the hall in apartment 11c.

WC:~2.6k

Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

“Oh are you moving in?” an old lady asked you as you exited the elevator, carrying some boxes.

“Yeah, I am,” you answered, readjusting your hold on the boxes weighing heavy in your arms. 

“Can I ask which apartment?” She looked at you sweetly. 

“Uh 11c,” you told. The old lady's face falls. It makes a bad feeling bubble up in your stomach. Did something bad happen in your apartment? “What’s wrong? Did something bad happen there?” you question. 

“Oh no no, dear. It’s your neighbor across the hall in 12c. He’s a psycho murderer. You better be careful. Stay away from him,” she warned you. 

“Grandma stop, you’re scaring them.” A guy who looked to be around your age appeared. 

“I know it’s scary, but it’s true. I can hear him drag the bodies across the floor. Then the thumping as he chops them up,” the old lady tells dramatically. 

“Grandma I’m sure that’s not what you’re hearing. Now come on I’m sure they have lots of unpacking to do. We shouldn’t keep them any longer.” The boy begins to usher his grandma down the hall. The grandma bid you a goodbye and you began to walk towards your apartment door till you heard a voice. 

“My grandma is right about staying away from him though. I know for a fact he does drugs. I saw a needle fall out of his pocket one time,” the boy called out from further down the hall before entering what you assume is his apartment. You finished the short couple of steps to your apartment door. You bend down to temporarily set down the boxes of your belongings. Standing back up straight you can’t help but send a look across the hall. Looking at the silver numbers 12c adorning the door. Certainly he couldn’t be a bad guy you reasoned, but then again how did such crazy rumors get spread about him? Shaking your head you turn back to your apartment door and unlock it. You picked the boxes back up from the floor and headed into your new apartment. 

Over the course of the next couple of months you heard even more stories about the guy who lives in 12c. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My brother told me that he’s a vampire,”a young boy told you while you were in the laundry room. He sat on top of one of the machines as his mom was busy loading in their laundry. 

“A vampire?” you say, reaching into the dryer to pull your clothes out. 

“Yes, a vampire. He never leaves his apartment during the day. He only goes out at night. My brother told me that he saw blood droplets on his shirt once.” The little boy leaned closer to whisper the last sentence to you. 

“Is that so?” you humored him. The little boy eagerly nodded at you.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re the one who moved into 11c right?” A man asked you. 

“Yes, why?” you responded. 

“Well the guy who lives across from you, he’s a hitman,” the guy states. You let out a light scoff. 

“How do you know that he’s a hitman?” you question the dude.

“I overheard him talking on the phone once,” the guy said. You motioned for him to go on. “ He said and I quote, ‘I took care of him sir. He won’t be a bother anymore.’ Then he hung up.” You admit the supposed words do sound strange, but without context a lot of things can appear to be strange.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If you ever run into the guy who lives apartment 12c don’t look into his eyes.” A girl who you found out was the same age as you advised you.

“Umm why?” you asked. 

“He does blackmagic. He can cast a curse upon you just by looking into your eyes,” she tells you. You seriously wonder if the people who tell you these stories about your neighbor hear themselves sometimes. 

“How do you know he does blackmagic?” you poked. 

“Oh I was friends with the lady who used to live in the apartment next to him. She told me that she could hear him chanting things in a foreign language and the smell of wax candles would waft through the air vents into her room,” the girl informs you. 

“Right, well thanks for telling me,” you say. 

“Of course. We have to look out for each other when such evil lurks nearby, especially you. I don’t know how you’re brave enough to live right across the hall from him.” Probably because you don’t believe any of the rumors about him. “You know if you ever need to seek refuge I live on the floor right under you. Same apartment number as you too. I’m 11b.” It’s not the first time one of the people who live in the same apartment complex as you offered you their room if you ever needed to get away from the “psycho” in 12c. It was a sweet gesture, but it made you really curious about what the guy in 12c was really like. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After five months of living in your new apartment you finally ran into the guy who lives in 12c. You were scheduled to work the overnight shift at your workplace for the week. You opened the door to leave your apartment at the exact same time the guy from 12c did. Naturally you did what everyone else in your apartment complex advised you not to do. You talk to him. 

“Hi,” you said. The guy looked a bit stunned about you initiating a conversation with him. 

“Hi.” Nonetheless he replied to you. 

“I’m y/n. I moved in five months ago,” you introduced yourself. 

“I’m Gunil.” After months of being curious about the guy in 12c you finally know his name. You walked down the hall together with him, but where you stopped at the elevator he kept walking to take the stairs. You find yourself feeling disappointed. You wanted to talk to him more. You hoped that maybe you would run into him again when you got off from work, however much to your disappointment you didn’t. 

The next day, technically night, you ran into him again. It’s enough for you to piece together that whatever job he works he must work the overnight shift like you’re doing this week for your job. You decided to ask him yourself to be sure. 

“Are you headed to work?” you questioned him, making your walk to the elevator. 

“Yeah I work the graveyard shift,” he informs you. 

“Me too, well this week I am,” you tell him with a smile. Again you can see that he’s a bit surprised. He’s probably not used to people talking to him, you inferred. This time he nods you a goodbye when you stop at the elevator and he continues on to the stairs. 

The rest of your work week you keep initiating some small talk on your very short, too short for your liking, interactions with Gunil. Even though they’re short conversations you really don’t understand where all these crazy rumors about Gunil came from. He seemed like a completely normal guy to you.

Normally you hated working the nightshift, but now that week is over and you know you won’t get to see Gunil anymore you find yourself actually wanting to work the nightshift. It made you feel a bit pathetic too. You wanted to work the nightshift just to see some guy that you hardly even knew. You wanted to see a guy who you spoke maybe fifthteen sentences to. Yet the next week you found yourself pushing that pathetic feeling away as you volunteered to work the nightshift. 

A bright smile appeared on your face as you left your apartment at the late hour of the night, finding Gunil leaving his apartment too. 

“Working the graveyard shift again?” This time you’re the one who wears a surprised expression. Because Gunil just initiated a conversation with you?

“Yep. Apparently I did such a good job that they want me to work the nightshift again.” This was clearly a lie, but you couldn’t tell him that you volunteered to work the shift just to see him. 

“Careful, they might make you permanently work the overnight shift like me,” he tells you. 

“Would that be so bad?” You smiled at him again. Maybe you’re going crazy, but you swear you see a shade of pink paint his cheeks. 

“Yeah, It’ll make the people who live here start saying that you’re a vampire,” he states with a playful eye roll. 

“You know about that?” you laughed lightly. 

“It’s not like they talk about it secretly.” You were so busy wrapped up in your conversation with Gunil that you didn’t even notice he was now waiting for the elevator with you instead of going his normal route to the stairs. Not until the elevator dinged and he motioned for you to head inside. You entered the elevator and he followed right after you.

“Well then you know the rumor would be that you turned me into a vampire,” you say, watching the elevator doors closed. Gunil chuckles at your words. Your heart lights up, you want to hear him laugh again. 

“I mean if you want me to,” he joked, stepping a bit closer to you. If you were anyone else in your apartment complex you would feel scared, but since you’re you, your heart fluttered. 

“I think I’d like to stay human a bit longer.” You raised your hand up. 

“As you wish.” Gunil stepped back and you kinda wished he stayed closer to you. The elevator dinged, arriving all too quickly in the lobby for your liking. Gunil and you exited the elevator and then the apartment complex, heading your separate ways. 

“Y/n are you ok!? Mrs. Walker said she saw Gunil follow you into the elevator!” The girl who’s your age and who you found out is named Samantha frantically checked you over for injuries. “He didn’t hex you did he?” 

“No, I’m fine,” you reassured her. You honestly can’t believe that the people living in the apartment complex really thought these things about Gunil.

“Oh that’s a relief I was so worried.” She hugged you. You awkwardly hugged her back, giving her two pats on the back. 

You nervously pick at your nails the next night when you run into Gunil. You take a breath, gathering the courage to ask Gunil your question. 

“Do you maybe want to grab a meal together when you get off work?” You were too nervous to even look at Gunil. The silence you’re met with after asking him wasn’t helping. “O-or not no pressure I-I just thought-”

“That sounds nice,”Gunil answered you mid ramble. A smile breaks out on your face. 

“Great. Could I get your number then? So you could message me when you’re free from work,” you quickly explained. Gunil smiles at you. You want to see his smile more. He sticks out his hand, asking for your phone. You happily hand it over to him. You stare at his newly created contact as you leave your apartment for work. 

The two of you met up at a cafe for your planned meal together, which you guess was technically breakfast. 

“I was really surprised when you talked to me, you know?” Gunil stated as he took a bite of his food.

“Did you think I would believe all the rumors the residents told me about you?” you questioned. 

“Kinda. Everyone else does,” Gunil admits. 

“Well I don’t really like to believe things unless I see them for myself and I never saw you dragging any dead bodies, or doing drugs, or burning in the sun, or being a hitman,” you let out a chuckle. “I think that one’s my favorite. What else was there? Oh right! You never cursed me so I ruled out practicing blackmagic pretty quickly,” you told him. 

“Oh so the rumor about me hiding from the F.B.I isn't a thing anymore or maybe you just haven't heard it yet.”

“Hiding from the F.B.I?” You repeated in disbelief. Gunil nods. 

“Story goes, I moved into the apartments because I committed treason in my home country, so I fled here to hide from the F.B.I.” he tells you. 

“Oh my gosh. I don’t know if that’s crazier than…actually all the rumors about you are quite crazy,” you say. 

“Oh I know,” Gunil agrees. 

“Why don’t you do anything about them?” you questioned him, taking a sip of your cooling drink.

“Because I find them funny. They give me a good laugh,” he told you. 

“They don’t bother you at all? Don’t you ever get lonely with everyone avoiding like their life depends on it,” you state laughing at the dramatics of your sentence. 

“Sometimes, but not really. This may be surprising, but I do have friends,” he said. 

“No way! I have friends too!” you announced. 

“We have so much in common,” Gunil remarks. 

“We should just date then.” The words fell from your mouth before you could think about them. “I-I mean,” you started to backtrack, but Gunil cuts in. 

“Here I thought this was a date,” he flirts. 

“I wouldn’t mind if it was,” you tell him. 

“Then it is,” Gunil declares. 

You and Gunil continued to go on breakfast dates for the rest of the week. Over the course of your dates you found out the truth behind the so-called rumors about him. 

The dragging and chopping of “dead bodies” that the grandma swears to hear is actually just Gunil working out. He has to drag the workout bench from where he keeps it pressed against the wall in his tiny apartment. The chopping sound is actually the sound of him doing jumping jacks or other forms of jumping workouts. 

The needle that the grandma’s grandson saw was because Gunil is actually a vet. He accidentally took one of the injection needles home from a round of giving puppies their shots. It just so happened to fall out in front of the grandson, leading him to jump to his own conclusion about it. 

The rumor about him being a vampire you already debunked when you found out he worked the nightshift, but it was still nice to have confirmation. Gunil has been working the nightshift at the vet clinic he worked at for three years now, so yeah the residents never really did see Gunil out during the daytime. The blood droplets on his shirt that lead to his blood sucking rumor were actually ketchup stains that he got from dropping a french fry on himself. 

Your favorite rumor about him being a hitman based on the strange phone call that the man heard. Was really just Gunil telling his boss about how he caught the guy that was stealing pet food from their clinic. 

Finally the rumor about him taking part in doing blackmagic stemmed back to his apprenticeship days. Gunil was studying medicine terminology which most of them happen to have latin roots, hence the “chanting in a foreign language”. The smell of wax candles wafting in through the air vent was actually the scent of Gunil’s oil lamp that he used to light his room because he liked the ambience of it. 

All the crazy rumors about your now boyfriend were simply ridiculous and stemmed from peoples overactive imaginations. You’re kinda glad that they existed though because without them you wouldn’t have taken an interest in the guy from apartment 12c. The guy who you should stay away from. He’s now the guy that you always want by your side. In fact you want him by your side so much so that after two years of dating Gunil, he is no longer the guy in apartment 12c, but the guy in 11c or as you like to call him your fiancé.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The One Rule (Part 1)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 4. Betrayal, 19. "Why Wasn't I Enough?", 31. Crying, Alt 7. Disowned by Family, Alt 13. Grief Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!Reader Summary: Jake has made some bad mistakes in the past, but nothing compared to this. Now he has to go home and face the consequences of his actions. He only hopes you'll be able to forgive him. Word Count: 5616 TW: Spousal Cheating, Arguing, Kicking Out of House, Mention of Divorce, Parents Splitting Up, Punch Thrown, Language Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for beta reading this for me! This is for @ailesswhumptober's event

Part 2 (coming soon)

Jake stood outside the fence and just stared at his house. By this time of morning, you would have already cleaned up the mess from breakfast and would be tidying up around the house as you enjoyed the few hours of alone time you got every Monday. The thought of you carefreely going about with your usual routine, probably dancing or singing to yourself as you always did, made the ache in his chest that much worse. 

Last night, he had screwed up. Bad. As in so bad he might have just destroyed his life as he knew it. And while a huge part of him wanted to keep it a secret in the hopes that you would never find out, he knew that telling you was the only way he stood a chance of making this right. Besides, if you ever somehow found out later what he did and that he had lied about it, there would be absolutely no coming back from that. 

So, taking a deep breath, he opened the gate and walked towards his house. As he began to climb the steps of his porch, it felt as if he were climbing the gallows to his impending execution— an irony that was in no way lost on him. After all these years of being branded with the name, he really was about to be the hanged man.

He had given his keys to Rooster the night before since he was supposed to be the DD, so Jake fished around in the potted plant next to the door until he found the spare key. He unlocked the front door and braced himself for what came next. 

Walking into the house, he didn’t see signs of anyone. However, your car had been parked in the driveway so hesitantly, he called out, “I’m home.” 

There was no response for a moment, but then you came walking out of the laundry room balancing a freshly folded basket of towels on your hip. You must not have heard him over whatever you were listening to because you were bopping your head and swaying to music only you could hear from your headphones. You started slightly when you noticed him standing in the living room, but then a bright smile spread across your face.

“Oh hi, honey. You scared me there for a minute. I wasn’t expecting anyone for another few hours.” You slipped off your earphones and laid them in the basket, the music still softly trickling out of them, as you walked over to him. After planting a warm kiss on his cheek, you resumed your walk back towards the linen closet. Over your shoulder, you called, “I got a little nervous when I didn’t hear from you anymore last night after that text saying you made it back to town. But when you didn’t come home, I talked to Bob and he said you all went out for drinks and you were pretty trashed when he left the bar. Did you stay with Javy, Bradley, or Nat this time?”

Jake didn’t know what to say. He just stood there silently opening and closing his mouth as he tried to find the kindest way to break your heart. But of course, there was none.

You finished putting the towels away and came back over to where he was standing. When he just continued to gape at you, your smile dropped into a concerned frown. “You okay, Jakey? You look like you’re going to be sick. And not in your usual hungover way.” You pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. “Did something happen last night?”

It was now or never. 

Removing your hand from his head, he gave it one last tight squeeze before he gestured to the nearby couch. “Sweetheart… why don’t you have a seat.”

“Okay…,” you said slowly but did as he asked. Once seated, you looked at him with eager anticipation. “What’s up?”

How could he tell you? How could he blow up both of your lives as you gazed at him so lovingly, oblivious to the bomb he was about to drop on you? But then again, he already set the bomb off last night when he went home with someone else. There was no stopping it or taking it back. All he could do was sit here and watch the destruction unfold. 

Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the armchair across from the couch and sank down into it. “Well, we all went to the bar after we made it back stateside last night and we started drinking. I had a few— a lot of shots of some new thing they had and there must have been more alcohol in them than I realized because I got really wasted.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” you scoffed but Jake could hear the nervous edge in your voice. You knew something was wrong and deep down, you probably knew what it was, but you wouldn’t let yourself believe it until Jake said the words. “But like I said, Bob already told me that.”

“Bob wanted to get home so he left early, that I remember. But right after that, I–I blacked out. And I don’t…. I don’t know. I guess the rest of the guys left or didn’t see me or something because they usually stop me–” He snapped his mouth shut as he realized he was probably telling you more than he meant to but he was so afraid of what would happen next that he was rambling a bit. 

“So you were blackout drunk, everyone else had left, and you didn’t come home last night,” you said flatly as you leaned back into the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. “Got it. I can connect those dots.”

Jake swallowed, trying to keep down the bile that was burning in his throat. Besides the aftereffects of his drinking last night, the cold, empty veil that had fallen over your eyes as you looked at him made his stomach churn. “I swear, sweetheart, I would never normally do anything like this but I was just so drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing. I mean, one second I’m talking to this girl by the pool table and the next I was waking up in her bed this morning.”

“But you’re sure–”

“Yeah.” Jake nodded, his eyes dropping to focus on the hardwood floor. “A few flashes of the night came back to me on the way home. It was enough to get a pretty good idea of what we did. But I’m so, so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you like this and just the thought of what I did makes me want to be sick. I never imagined those drinks would hit me that hard or I would have stopped after the second or third one. That isn’t an excuse for what I did but maybe an explanation for why it happened? I don’t know. I wish I could take the whole night back and make it so it never happened. I’m just so sorry.”

He slowly lifted his eyes from the floor as he braced himself for the fury of your response. Yet as he waited for you to react in some way, you didn’t say a word. You just continued to stare straight ahead with that same blank indifference as if in a trance, not even really at him but more at the wall just above his head. However, when he reached out to touch your arm, you suddenly stood up and walked calmly into the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind you.

Jake had expected screaming and cursing. He had expected tears and sobs of disbelief. But he had never imagined this total lack of a reaction. Maybe it hadn’t hit you yet. Maybe the words were settling in and the explosion would come later. Part of him wondered if he should follow you into the bedroom to continue to beg for your forgiveness. He went up to the door and pressed his ear against it as he rested his hand on the doorknob. He could hear some slight rustling and moving around, but it didn’t sound like you were crying or yelling or really making any noise at all.

After a moment, Jake decided it was better to leave you alone for now to try and wrap your head around everything he told you. So, he quietly backed away from the door and retreated to the kitchen where he got himself a glass of water and a few aspirin. His massive hangover was the cherry on top of this shit-tastic sundae the last 12 hours had become. He just hoped he was clear-headed enough to face you when you eventually emerged from the bedroom. 

That moment finally came about an hour later when the door opened and you walked out carrying his old duffle bag. You strode past him to the front door, opened it wide, and threw the duffle bag out onto the porch before turning back towards him. In a calm, level voice, you said, “Here’s enough stuff to last you for the week. See if Javy or Bradley can help you get the rest of your things this weekend but until then I better not see you in this house.”

As you walked back towards the kitchen, he reached out to grab your arm but you jerked it away. “Sweethear–”

“No, Jake. You knew the rules since our first date.” You had turned back to face him, trapping Jake between you and the still-open front door. “I have never said a word about your cockiness, or your asshole behavior towards others, or your need to always be in control. I accepted the fact you would be gone for months at a time on deployments or missions with little to no contact. And I never once said a word about how late you stay out with your friends or how often they have to carry your drunk ass home. But the one thing I have said from the very beginning is that if you ever cheat on me, we are done. Period.”

“I was drunk. I didn’t–”

“I don’t care. That’s not an excuse and you know it. Now, get out of my house.”

“Our house.”

“My house,” you said firmly yet still void of any emotion. “You gave up the right to it when you climbed into some other woman’s bed.” 

Jake retreated into himself a bit at that. “I said, I screwed up. It was one time and it was the worst mistake of my life. I’m not asking for you to be okay with this, but please let’s just talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You broke your vows which shows how little our marriage means to you. So, we are done. End of story.” And as if to accentuate your point, you turned your back to him.

Now Jake was getting mad. Yes, he messed up, in a way that was potentially inexcusable, but you weren’t being reasonable or giving him a chance to explain. He had been blackout drunk. There was no way he would have ever done something like that when he was sober and you knew that. Yet you were standing there with your stone-cold gaze and your calm, unemotional tone demanding he leave. Maybe you were the one showing how little this marriage meant if you couldn’t even be bothered to react to this information. If you could shut off your emotions and feelings for him so quickly, maybe they weren’t that strong to begin with.

And while you might be willing to chuck him to the curb without a second thought, there was someone else who would be devastated if he were forced to move out. 

“What about Ellie?” he demanded. “You can’t keep me away from my daughter.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

“Just watch me,” you hissed as you whirled around and jammed your finger harshly into his chest. The cold indifference you had been showing up to this point was gone and your words dripped with a venomous fury.  “It was taking everything in me to remain calm just long enough to watch your sorry ass walk out that door, but how dare you bring her into this! Not when you didn’t give her a second thought before destroying her family.” 

The veil had lifted from your eyes and Jake cowered back as he was met with the full force of your maternal outrage. “Do you know she begged me to let her stay up for you last night because you promised you’d be home, but I made her go to bed because I knew the truth. That you’d rather go out drinking than come home to tuck your daughter in after not seeing her for two weeks. Your four-year-old daughter who thinks her daddy hung the moon. If only she knew who you really were. But I am going to make sure you can’t shatter her heart like you just shattered mine. Now… Get. Out.” 

As you took another step forward, your finger still firmly on his chest, he stumbled back over the threshold of the front door. He might have caught himself if he hadn’t tripped on the duffle bag you had tossed out moments before. He landed hard on his ass, barely able to soften the fall by throwing his hands out behind him.

He gazed up at you from his awkward heap on the ground as you stood framed in the doorway. For just a second, it wasn’t anger nor indifference Jake saw staring back at him. It was pain. A level of pain and betrayal he had never seen in another person, as if your entire body would shatter if touched with even the slightest of breezes. And it was only then that Jake truly realized how royally he had fucked up.

But then the veil fell over your face once more. In that same indifferent tone, you said, “Don’t you dare come back.” Then you shut the door and he heard the deadbolt slide shut.

Today was Thursday. Thursday meant you needed to take the trash out to the road. It meant Ellie had her appointment at the dentist’s to get her teeth cleaned. It meant the ads changed at the store and that fancy ice cream you loved might finally be on sale.

Today was Thursday. Thursday meant this was the third morning you had woken up alone after your so-called “love of your life” had admitted to the ultimate betrayal and you had thrown him out. 

You were used to waking up alone. He was gone so often for work, it seemed like you were alone more than together. But this felt different. Usually, there was that faint aura of fear for his safety mixed with the excitement of counting down the days until he came home. But now, there was only the constant ache in your chest where your heart used to be and the throbbing pain in your head from trying to hold back your tears.

Because it hurt. Oh god, did it hurt. But you didn’t have the luxury of falling apart or feeling sorry for yourself because you weren’t the only other person mixed up in this situation. The one saving grace you were holding on to was that on Monday when everything had gone down, Ellie was with your mom on their weekly playdate. You had no idea what you would have done if she had been there or returned just afterward. How could you have explained why her dad only came home for less than two hours before leaving again, this time with an armful of stuff? Or why you were sobbing in a heap in the middle of the hall? 

But her temporary absence didn’t make her return home and immediate questions about where Daddy was any easier. Thankfully, your mom noticed the tears that sprung to your eyes and how your lip instantly began to quiver so she ushered Ellie upstairs to her room as quickly as she could. Then once she had gotten her to lay down for her afternoon nap, she came back down and held you as you told her everything and fell apart in her arms. You knew your parents never really liked your husband, but you doubted even they would have predicted he would do something like this. Then again… maybe they would have.

He was a jackass, through and through. You knew that from the moment you laid eyes on him in a bar just after you graduated college. And yet, he could also be sweet and charming and thoughtful. And he loved you, even now you didn’t doubt that. But he also loved to drink and party and flirt like he was still 24 and single. You just thought he loved you and Ellie more than that but you guess you were wrong. He loved himself more than he loved his family and now you would never let yourself forget that.

About an hour after you had thrown him out, he had tried calling you over and over and over and over. Each time you sent him to voicemail, he left a long, heartfelt message full of love, plans for change, and pleas for forgiveness. And once he finished recording his message, he would immediately call again and repeat the cycle trying to get through to you.

You blocked his number after the seventh call—one for every year the two of you had been together.

Since then, there had been nothing. You had expected a call or at least a text from some of the Daggers, but it had been radio silence from them. By now, most of them had to know what happened but if they did, they made no effort to reach out and see if you and Ellie were alright. There hadn’t even been an attempt to get you to change your mind and take him back. 

That was until this afternoon.

As you were scrolling through reviews of divorce lawyers while Ellie napped upstairs, you noticed a familiar jeep pull up outside out of the corner of your eye and you froze. You expected Javy to come by this weekend to help pack up the rest of the stuff that needed to go, but that was still a few days away. You planned on taking Ellie and going to the park and lunch so you both weren’t at the house when they came so this was not part of your plan. 

As you saw Javy climbing out, you put your laptop down and hurried over to the front door. You reached it just as you heard footsteps coming up the porch steps. Pressing your cheek against the door, you hollered, “I told him not to come back until the weekend.”

“It’s just me,” Javy’s muffled voice came through the wood. “I promise, I just want to talk and see how you’re doing.”

You leaned heavily against the door as you mulled over what to do. You hadn’t seen anyone but Javy get out of the jeep and while he was your husband’s best friend, the two of you were also close enough that you couldn’t imagine him trying to help anyone sneak into the house against your wishes. So, taking a deep breath, you slid the chain off the door and opened it.

Javy tried to step forward but you shook your head and stepped outside, closing the door behind you. “Ellie’s asleep upstairs and I don’t want to wake her. Whatever you have to say, you can say out here.”

“Fair enough.”Javy took a few steps back to give you a little more space, stopping just on the edge of the porch near the steps. Shifting slightly from foot to foot, he rubbed the back of his neck as he muttered, “I’m sorry about what happened. I still can’t believe it—any of it. You two always seemed so solid.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Yeah, we were…. when we were together. But that’s the problem. When I’m not there to hold his leash and remind him he’s already taken, he goes wild. But you already know that, don’t you?” Javy began to squirm even more under your gaze. You scoffed, “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Taking a few steps forward to shorten the distance between you, you said, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to answer me with 100% honesty, no matter how much the answer might hurt me. Do you understand?” Javy slowly nodded, his eyes locked firmly onto yours. “Has he done this before?”

Javy vigorously shook his head. “No, never, I swear. And you know he would tell me if it did.”

“But he’s tried to, hasn’t he? He mentioned something about you guys ‘usually stopping him’ which sure sounds like he would have done this a long time ago if he hadn’t had his friends there for him. But then that makes me wonder, how far has he gone before he was stopped? Has he ever kissed another woman? Gotten to second base? Third?”

“No! He didn’t…I mean, h-he…,” Javy sighed in defeat as he hung his head. Without looking at you, he mumbled, “As far as I know, he never made it that far.”

You nodded softly to yourself as you processed this information. Then you hauled back and punched Javy in the face. 

While you weren’t particularly strong, the Naval pilot stumbled back, tripping down the porch steps as he clutched his nose. He looked back up at you, shock and confusion filling his watery eyes. Out of all of the Daggers, Javy knew you the best and had even developed a close friendship with you. Because of that, he was also the only one who knew there was a fierce, unshakable side to you behind your usual laissez-faire, pushover housewife facade. But you bet not even he would have expected you to punch someone, let alone him. 

Yet that was just the start of your fury. Shaking out the pain in your hand, you screamed, “You should have told me! I could have eventually gotten over his drunk ass kissing a girl or two, maybe even going a little further. Yeah, it would have hurt like hell and we would have needed time, but we could have gotten past it. Got counseling or–or help or I don’t know! But now he’s gone and ruined everything and you could have done something to stop it!”

Javy tried to explain. “I know. I’m sorry, I tried. But you know how he gets. I thought it was all just harmless flirting. I never imagined he’d go this far. I thought about telling you a hundred times, but I was just trying to protect my friend.”

“And what about me? I thought I was your friend too. Or you know what, screw that! How about protecting your goddaughter, hm?” You pointed at the house where you knew Ellie was up in her room fast asleep and oblivious to the drama raging outside. “That little girl in there who is now asking me every day where her daddy is and when he’s coming home. Who’s protecting her when I have to finally figure out some form of the truth she’ll understand and she… and she hates me because of it.” 

Your voice broke on the last part but you swallowed your tears and kept going. “How do I tell her I’m the one not letting him come home when I can’t tell her why not? How do I break my baby’s heart all because he…he—” All the fight went out of you as quickly as it had appeared. With a loud wail, you crumpled to your knees and buried your face in your hands as sobs wracked your body.

It was the real reason you had been putting off telling Ellie that her dad wasn’t coming home. She adored Jake—was a complete daddy’s girl—and you knew this news was going to devastate and confuse her. Your daughter might be advanced for her age, but no four-year-old understands infidelity or cheating no matter how smart they are (and they shouldn’t). Which meant whatever you said would boil down to some form of “Mama won’t let him” and the thought of how that would destroy your relationship with the person you loved most in this world was unbearable. Your husband was the one who broke your family and yet you were going to be the one who was blamed. 

As you knelt there on the front porch of the home that was now just a reminder of all the plans and dreams that would never be, sobbing and snotting loudly for the whole neighborhood to see, a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and began to draw you in. You tried weakly to struggle against them, but it was a fruitless effort. Finally, you gave up and threw yourself fully into Javy’s embrace. You buried your face into his chest as his arms held you tight, his hand rubbing soothing circles across your trembling back. 

Through the sobs, you managed to choke out, “I-It just hurts so much, Javy. I don’t know how to keep myself from falling a-apart. Even thinking about him or saying his name is like a knife in my heart and every time, a little more of me gets cut out and replaced by more pain. I don’t even know what’s le-left.”

Javy pulled you in tighter, his face pressed against yours so as he whispered, his lips brushed against your ear. “I’m so sorry. I know it hurts, but I know you and you’re strong enough to get through this. And the rest of the Daggers and I will be right here beside you. It’ll be okay. I promise. ”

Maybe it was because it was coming from someone other than your parents, or because of the warm, trustworthy aura that always radiated from Javy, but for the first time in days, you actually believed that might be the case. You had been so afraid all of the Navy aviators would turn against you or take his side instead. It was a fear that had been nagging at the very back of your mind but you had been too afraid to really consider it. Since moving to California, you hadn’t really had a chance to make many friends outside of the Daggers and you didn’t know how to deal with any of this if you lost them too. But if what Javy said was true and they would stick beside you, maybe things weren’t as hopeless as they seemed.

Despite this revelation, it still took another ten or so minutes for you to stop crying. But when you did, you continued to lay curled up in Javy’s arms and mumbled, “I’m sorry I punched you. I know this isn’t your fault. I think I’ve just been looking for someone to hit since he told me and you were the first person I’ve really seen besides my parents and I wasn’t going to punch them.”

You felt Javy chuckle softly beneath you. “It’s okay. You got a mean right hook, but I did deserve it. I should have told you what he was doing a long time ago.” You flinched at yet another confirmation that your marriage had been broken for longer than you wanted to admit. “I just… I didn’t want to believe he would actually take things this far. I really thought he would stop himself even if no one was around to step in and do it for him.”

“I wasn’t blind when I chose to be with him. I knew his faults and I knew what I was agreeing to. That’s why I never once tried to change him or make him stop doing what he wanted. And in return, I asked for one fucking thing and he couldn’t give that to me. I just…. I don’t why I wasn’t enough for him.” You shook your head. “I don’t know. Maybe I was blind after all and I should have just thrown my drink in his face that first night we met and walked away.”

“Maybe you should have… but then you wouldn’t have Ellie and I know you wouldn’t trade her even if it meant avoiding this pain.”

You shook your head again as you buried your face in Javy’s neck. “You’re right. Our little girl is the one thing I don’t regret about our relationship and she makes all the rest of this worth it.”

“See? Just keep holding onto that, okay?” You nodded again as Javy gently took your shoulders and pushed you back so he could look at you at arm’s length. Then brushing the tears from your face, he said, “And I’ll be there to help you tell her about all of this. You didn’t do anything wrong here and you shouldn’t have to do that alone or take the blame for it. We’ll figure something out.”

“Thanks, Jav. And I know you’re still going to be his friend and help him through this.” Javy started to say something but you held up your hand to stop him. “No, it’s alright. He needs someone to lean on right now and it should be you. And I’m not asking you to choose sides. I don’t want you to feel like it’s either him or me and Ellie. You will always be welcome here if you want, along with the rest of the Daggers. But please, don’t try to talk me out of this. Don’t ask me to take him back.”

“No, don’t worry,” Javy promised. “I’m not gonna do that. Maybe someday, but not today. Not until he straightens out, works on himself, and becomes the man you girls deserve…the man I thought he was.”

“I guess we were both wrong about him.” Javy pulled you back into his arms and you closed your eyes.

Maybe Javy was right and he would eventually get help and become the person you and Ellie needed. Or maybe he would realize he liked the single life more than he ever liked being a family man. Or maybe he would just drink himself to death in a bar somewhere. Only time would tell.

But regardless of what he did, you knew you were going to be alright. It would suck for a very long time but eventually, you would find a way to start over again and make the life you wanted— even if it wasn’t the way you had always planned. 

Suddenly, the front door opened, and a very sleepy-looking face peered out from inside. You scampered out of Javy’s lap and onto your feet. As you hurried to her side, Ellie rubbed her eyes with one tiny fist as she looked up at you and you asked, “Hey, baby. Is everything okay?”

“I’m thirsty,” she mumbled. 

You scooped her up into your arms and balanced her one hip. “Okay, why don’t we get you a glass of water then you can finish your nap?”

She nodded, rubbing her eyes again. But then her little brow furrowed as she stared at you closer. Reaching out, she brushed her hand across your damp face as she asked, “Why are you crying, Mama? Did you get a boo-boo?”

Brushing the hair from her face, you said, “Yeah, baby. I got a boo-boo.”

Without hesitating, Ellie leaned forward and placed a big, exaggerated kiss on both of your cheeks. Then grinning proudly, she said, “There! I kissed it and made it all better!”

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes once more and you squeezed Ellie tightly in an enormous hug. “Thank you, El. You really do make it feel better.” 

You held her like that as long as you could, but once she began to squirm in your grasp, you loosened your grip on her so she was just once more lightly balanced on your hip. Booping her nose with your free hand, you asked, “How about instead of your nap, we get you that water and maybe if you ask nicely, Uncle Javy will play dress-up with you. What do you think?”

Her little face lit up with joy. “Yeah!” Turning to Javy, she asked, “Please, Uncle ‘Avy?”

Uncle “Avy” quickly shot you a look that you pretended to look innocent at before he smiled at Ellie. “Okay, but only if I can be the princess this time. It’s not fair I’m always stuck being the fairy.”

Ellie pouted slightly, but she gave a huge sigh and said, “I guess.”

Javy’s grin grew wider and he pumped his fist. “Sweet! Then let’s go! I’ll race you upstairs while your mom gets your drink.”

You put Ellie down as she tried wiggling out of your grasp and she hurried inside and up the stairs as fast as her little legs would carry her. As he followed behind her in a mock run, Javy squeezed your arm as he passed and gave you a quick smile. Then he disappeared inside after Ellie.

Watching them go, you took a deep breath as a wave of peace washed over you. Yes, you might not get the life you had been planning, but you could already start to see making a pretty good life out of what you still had. 

And with that, you followed your daughter and your friend inside and shut the door behind you. 

I have a potential idea for a Part 2 if anyone is interested (though it may not go the way you are expecting....)

Update, it looks like I'm going to start working on Part 2!

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy,@imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @blue-aconite, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3 @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @writercole, @onebigfangirlworld, @wkndwlff, @ravenmoore14, @clancycucumber230, @mayhemmanaged, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @kmc1989, @ohtobeleah, @roosterforme, @deppresseddyslexic, @horneybeach1, @mandylove1000

[f1-stuff]

Body swap??? 👀👀👀

Took me ages to respond to this, but have no fear! Bc a 1k snippet is here... -> WIP game

This has to be a dream.

It’s the only reasonable explanation - the only explanation that doesn’t make him feel on the verge of a panic attack. Except, of course, that he doesn’t remember if he’s ever thought to himself, ‘this is a dream,’ while actually dreaming. But there’s a first time for everything, right?

He’s been staring at the reflection (his reflection?) in the mirror for twenty minutes now, thinking or hoping that somehow, he’ll blink and it won’t be Carlos Sainz staring back at him anymore. 

He pinches himself. 

Nothing.

He splashes cold water on his face.

Nothing.

He leans in closer, poking his cheek, rubbing his eyes as if the problem is his vision. All it succeeds in doing is getting an eyelash stuck in his eye that he then spends the next ten minutes cursing and trying to extract, eye red and watering.

“Hello,” he says. And it sounds like Carlos. “What the hell is going on?”

If this is a dream (nightmare, he corrects), then it’s the realest fucking dream (nightmare) he’s ever had.

He really has to pee.

Instead, he strides back into the bedroom, finding the source of the alarm in the pocket of a pair of jeans on the floor. The phone unlocks when it sees his face (Carlos’ face) and he finally silences it, his fingers awkward and too large on the screen and- fucking, not his. The hotel room plunges into quiet.

Until the phone in his hand pings, and he looks back down to see a text from ‘Charles.’ From him. But not from him because he’s right here. Which means...

Charles: Are you awake?

A shiver goes down his spine.

He throws on the jeans, a nearby discarded shirt, and some shoes, and marches down the hall (rather clumsily) toward his actual hotel room - the one he’d fallen asleep in last night and the night before that and the night before that. The room he’s been sleeping in since they arrived in Australia on Monday, and the room he was supposed to be leaving from this morning. In less than an hour, in fact.

He knocks on the door. It opens.

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, but who would’ve thought, it’s still shocking to see his own face staring back at him, even when he expects it.

“Mierda,” Carlos says. Carlos as Charles. Carlos in Charles’ body and in Charles’ voice, cursing in Spanish like it’s second nature, as natural as breathing.

“My thoughts, exactly,” Charles says, right before Carlos tugs him inside and shuts the door.

They stare at one another for an extended beat, eyes blinking in disbelief, heads spinning.

“Okay...” Carlos says.

“Okay? What do you mean, ‘okay’?” Charles says, baffled at the reaction.

“I don’t know! I just- I didn’t mean ‘okay’ like...”

“What the hell is going on, Carlos?”

“Just...breathe, Charles,” he says, holding onto Charles’ arms and guiding him to sit on the bed. “We will figure this out.”

“How? What is ‘this,’ even?” 

“Well...” Carlos raises his brows, but it’s Charles’ brows. He gestures between the two of them. “We are...switched, no?”

“Obviously,” Charles groans, covering his face with hands that are slightly bigger than he’s used to. “But how, Carlos? Did something happen last night, or...?”

“I don’t remember anything.”

“I don’t either,” Charles says, sighing, and dropping his hands to his lap. His knee is vibrating up and down rapidly, heel tapping against the floor.

“What is wrong with you?” Carlos asks.

“Me?”

“You are vibrating, practically.”

“I’m trying not to have a panic attack, Carlos,” he nearly shouts, then takes a breath to calm down. “And, also, I really have to pee.”

“Well, fuck, then do it!” Carlos says, gesturing at the bathroom.

“But...” Charles trails off, flushing a bit in embarrassment. 

“Oh, come on, Charles,” Carlos groans, in sudden understanding, rolling his eyes. “We have all the same parts.”

“I know that!” Charles mumbles, his face flushing even darker. “It is just...personal. I don’t know.”

“Well, things are going to get pretty personal so...” Carlos throws his hands up, and Charles can’t get over how it feels to watch his own body doing something his mind hasn’t instructed it to do. “Unless you want to get even more uncomfortable, you’re going to have to pee, mate.”

“Fine,” Charles says, striding off into the bathroom and shutting the door.

After undoubtedly the weirdest two minutes of his life thus far, he emerges from the bathroom with a red face, collapsing back onto the bed.

“Oh, look. You survived,” Carlos says, deadpan.

“Asshole,” Charles mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

He expects Carlos to maybe make a joke - a 'did you like what you saw' type remark, or something similar. But he doesn't. And instead, they fall into a tense silence.

“We have to leave for the airport in twenty minutes,” Carlos says, eventually. Charles sighs. “And I’m pretty sure we both need to shower and pack-”

Oh, god, Charles thinks. And I thought peeing was gonna be weird. The fact that he’d need to eventually shower had clearly slipped his mind. The mental image of Carlos showering in his body - washing himself and...everything else. It made Charles’ stomach flip over nervously.

Carlos must see something in his expression because his voice softens with his next words.

“Charles.” He waits until Charles meets his gaze. “If you’re not comfortable...with me-”

“No, it’s okay,” Charles interrupts, quickly. He’s aware that he’s making this weirder than it needs to be. It’s just showering. And what’s the alternative? Neither of them shower for the rest of...however long this lasts? “You’re right. We should shower and pack, and then...I don’t know. Figure this out in Maranello.”

“Okay,” Carlos says, nodding.

There’s a beat where neither of them move.

“Okay, I’ll go,” Charles says, awkwardly, standing and moving toward the door.

But before he gets very far, “Don’t forget my computer on the desk! Or my razor by the sink. Or-”

“Do you want to just do it yourself?” Charles interrupts, raising his brows. “Let’s pack our own shit.”

“Oh, right,” Carlos says, nodding. “Good idea.”

They swap room keys and then, belatedly, phones and phone cases, so that they can have their own phones but not raise suspicion. Then Carlos, looking like Charles in every physical way, walks out of the room to pack up his things in Carlos’ room.

This is gonna be so confusing.

Right, so...one problem at a time.

[blueskrugs]

sleeping with someone | Nick Blankenburg

I used parts of this fic to cope with the fact that I graduate in a few days. pay no mind to the existential crisis. I think I also listened to too much of stick season while writing this

this one got away from me a teeny, tiny bit. i promise all 14,000 words are worth it. 

length: 14.2k words

Nick Blankenburg breaks up with Mikayla Williams three weeks after he gets back to Michigan after Worlds. She doesn’t see it coming until Nick’s standing in front of her and saying, “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

Mikayla blinks at him. Nick looks determined, the same stubborn look that she’s grown to love on his face. 

“Sorry, what?”

“I don’t think long-distance is going to work anymore, Mikkie.”

They’d barely had a chance to do long-distance at all. It had only been a few weeks between Michigan crashing out of the Frozen Four, then Nick signing a contract with Columbus and finishing out the season there, before being whisked off to Worlds. She thought it had been going fine—they texted often and Nick called when their schedules lined up enough to allow for it. Nick clearly didn’t think the same thing. He’s still looking at Mikayla with that stubborn set to his mouth, waiting for her to respond. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to say next. 

“You’re really breaking up with me? Just like that?” They’d been together almost three years. They’d started to talk about their plans for the future. 

Nick shrugs. “I’m going to be getting a new contract this summer, probably, and I really want to be able to experience the NHL fully, y’know?”

So that’s how it is. Mikayla lets out a humorless laugh. “You’re saying that you want to sleep around without the guilt of a girlfriend back home.” Nick blushes, but refuses to back down. “Have a good life, Blankenburg.”

She pushes past him, unlocks her apartment door at last. She’s glad Nick at least waited to dump her until after they’d finished brunch, after he had walked her back home. Nick’s still standing by her door with his hands in his pockets when the door slams behind Mikayla.

Mikayla wishes she could say she moves on easily after that. She’s too angry to feel broken-hearted over it, at first. She collects all of Nick’s clothes that she’s pilfered over the years: sweatshirts and T-shirts and one extremely comfortable pair of sweatpants she’s actually pretty sad to give up. She shoves it all in a box and leaves it by her front door for another week. 

She makes a detour to Washington on her way back home to Saginaw for the summer, drops the box off on the Blankenburgs’ porch after she knows Nick’s just had knee surgery and can’t come out and talk to her. 

After that, she tries not to think about it. 

This is the first summer Mikayla has been single since she started college, and she’ll be damned if she lets moping about Nick ruin it. There will be time for that later. 

So Mikayla drives up to the Bay and tans on the beach with her friends, she spends time on Haithco Lake, and she goes out to the same bars as everyone else in her age in Saginaw. She deflects questions that her friends from high school ask about Nick—“We’re taking a break,” she says, drunk in the back of the bar, getting sunburned in a kayak on Haithco. “I’m fine,” she tells her mom, getting home late, stumbling over the sandals she’s just kicked off by the front door.

It’s her best friend who sees through her first, only a few weeks into the summer. 

“What?” Mikayla asks flatly, popping another grape into her mouth as she watches Jake watch her, a serious look on his face that she can’t read. 

“You’re really okay with Nick dumping you like that?” he asks. “Everyone thought you two would get married in a few more years.”

Mikayla forces herself to shrug. She’d been one of those people who thought she and Nick were going to get married, too. “We just grew out of each other I guess. Nick wanted to move on.”

Move on in life, move on from her. 

Mikayla surveys Jake back. They’d been inseparable themselves since middle school. A lot of people had thought they’d be the ones to fall in love and get married, until Mikayla stayed in Michigan for college and Jake had fucked off to Mississippi State to play baseball. All they had these days was the summer. 

“Things change, shit happens,” she adds. 

Jake doesn’t look impressed by her flippancy. “What really happened?” he asks.

Mikayla’s first single summer is also the first summer she’s turned up without Nick in tow in years. People noticed faster than she would have liked. She’d been trying her hardest to run away from the truth, but she’s always known it would catch up to her eventually. 

She forces another shrug. Jake’s still looking at her, too-serious for the sunny summer day, so she doesn’t think she’s coming off as casual as she wants to be. 

“Told me he wanted to ‘experience the NHL fully,’ whatever the fuck that means,” she says after she lets the silence drag on too long. She bites down on another grape, the satisfying crunch of it soothing her flaring temper. She barrels on, “He decided he wanted to be able to fuck other girls, that I wasn’t enough anymore, I don’t know. I guess it’s better than just cheating on me.”

Jake stares at her. “That’s shitty,” he says. He shoves his sunglasses to the top of his head. “You know what you have to do, right?” he asks eagerly.

“Spend the summer getting drunk and then focus on graduating?” Mikayla asks. She doesn’t like the mischievous glint in Jake’s eyes.

Jake scoffs. “You’re so boring. No, if Nick’s going to fuck around, what’s stopping you? Hot girl summer it up, baby! There’s nothing holding you back!”

Mikayla bursts out laughing. “Please never say hot girl summer around me again.” She throws a grape at Jake, considering his words; he flails, trying desperately to catch it in his mouth and narrowly avoiding toppling out of his chair. “Who exactly am I supposed to fuck around with?” she asks. Jake straightens up and shoots her a maniacal grin. She holds up a hand. “Not that I’m considering it, just—“ 

Saginaw isn’t a small town, but it functions enough like one. Everyone they went to high school with still runs in the same circles, the same friend groups coming together at parties when everyone flocks home for the summer. They’re not close enough to the Bay to garner a real tourist presence. If Mikayla were to sleep with anyone in Saginaw, everyone and their mother would know within a week. Sleeping around is way, way out of the picture. 

Jake falls silent. Mikayla thinks he’s going to drop it, until he says, “I’m single.”

“No, what? I’m not sleeping with my best friend,” Mikayla protests. Jake knows her well enough to tell that the protest is half-hearted, judging by the raised eyebrows he points at her. 

Jake doesn’t push. He’s smirking, though, waiting Mikayla out. 

Jake had been Mikayla’s first kiss, tucked away in a hidden corner at one of Jake’s baseball tournaments their sophomore year of high school. They’d never really entertained the idea of going any further than that, no matter what everyone else thought they would do. 

Jake’s still the only guy Mikayla’s ever kissed, other than Nick. Maybe he’s onto something with the hot girl summer idea. 

“I don’t want another relationship,” Mikayla warns. 

Jake holds his hands up in surrender. “Strictly friends with bennies,” Jake promises. “No catching feelings allowed.” He reaches to tug at Mikayla. She doesn’t move much, sweaty skin sticking to her lounger. “God, come over here already.”

Mikayla doesn’t even protest Jake’s weird vocabulary as she unsticks herself and clambers onto his lap. They’re on the back deck of her parents’ house, in the middle of the day. Anyone can see Mikayla in a bikini and Jake in just shorts. She should probably care, but she can’t muster up the energy for it as she settles her hands on Jake’s shoulders. 

It’s different than it ever was with Nick. Where Nick’s short and broad, Jake’s tall and lanky. She can still feel the muscles in his shoulders bunch as he shifts beneath her, hands carefully resting on the outside of her thighs. 

“Kay, you think too much,” Jake comments, watching her face. 

Kay.  Nick never called her that. Only her family and Jake have ever called her Kay. “Shut up,” Mikayla says, refusing to dwell on that.

“Make me,” Jake taunts. This close, Mikayla can see his eyes underneath his sunglasses, lit up with amusement.

Mikayla leans forward and kisses him. Jake makes a surprised noise into her mouth. It’s not like it was when they were 16, awkward and fumbling and so unsure of themselves. They’re both older now, more experienced—even if Mikayla doesn’t want to think about just how many girls Jake has slept with now that they’re not attached at the hip anymore. 

She lets herself get lost in it, until Jake slides his hands up her thighs to her hips and pushes her away. He’s red all the way up to the tips of his ears, and Mikayla doesn’t think it’s sunburn.

“Not that I didn’t like that,” he pants, grip tight on Mikayla to keep her from squirming. “But we are still outside.”

Mikayla thinks they should change that, so she climbs out of Jake’s lap and gets to her feet. She offers a hand to Jake, who blinks up at her for a moment, before lacing their fingers together and letting himself be pulled to his feet. 

Mikayla spends most of the summer tumbling into bed with Jake. They’re probably not as subtle about it as they could be, but Mikayla thinks she’s overdue for a summer fling. She ignores the knowing smiles and raised eyebrows their other friends send their way when they’re pressed close in the dark of the bar, when they leave a party together.

It takes her weeks to stop comparing Jake to Nick, the way he touches her, the way his lips feel against her skin. Until she no longer has to choke back Nick’s name. She wakes up one morning to Jake still in her bed, his arm draped around her waist. Mikayla has to blink a few times when she rolls over and realizes that it’s Jake next to her, not Nick.

Mikayla dreams of Nick, dreams of that first summer together, when she got to bring him home for the first time. The first time she realized she was falling in love. 

Nick fidgets the entire hour and a half drive from his house to Saginaw. He reaches to change the song that’s just started, but Mikayla slaps his hand away. 

“No complaining about my playlist,” she says.

“I’m not complaining,” Nick complains. “I just didn’t want to listen to that song.” 

‘That song’ in question is a Taylor Swift song. Mikayla turns the volume up. Nick sighs, but Mikayla can see him smiling at her from the corner of her eye.

Nick had insisted that he could make the drive up to Saginaw by himself. Mikayla didn’t need to be driving three hours round-trip just to pick him up, he’d argued, but Mikayla had barely left her house since Michigan had sent all of the students home in March. Driving three hours round-trip was as close to an adventure as she was going to get this summer. Besides, it gives them a little bit of time to themselves after not seeing each other for months before being under constant supervision by Mikayla’s parents.

Nick’s back to fidgeting the passenger seat. 

“Would you quit that?” Mikayla says. Nick stops picking at his fingernails. “Everyone is going to love you.” Nick’s cute and charming and polite, a good Michigan boy through and through. Mikayla’s pretty sure there’s a good chance her family ends up liking Nick more than they like her, actually. 

When Mikayla pulls into the driveway, her dog is the first one out the front door, closely followed by her mom. She wraps Mikayla in a hug as soon as she’s out of her car.

“Geez, I was barely gone for three hours,” Mikayla says, but hugs her mom back just as tightly. 

Her mom moves on to Nick after releasing Mikayla. He meets Mikayla’s eyes over her mom’s shoulder, looking a little startled. Mikayla just laughs.

“Oh, Kay, Grandma and Grandpa are coming over for dinner tomorrow,” her mom says. “They want to be able to meet Nick, too.” 

Mikayla’s grandma had decided she loved Nick the moment she found out they shared a birthday. Mikayla’s not too worried about what they’re going to think of him once they finally meet him.

Nick’s casting a confused look around as he follows Mikayla into the house. 

“I hope the pullout is comfortable enough for you, Nick,” her mom is saying. The spare sheets and blanket are all folded on the arm of the couch. “But it was either the pullout or a blow-up mattress in the office upstairs.”

Mikayla has slept on that blow-up mattress before. It tends to deflate in the middle of the night. “You’re better off on the pullout,” Mikayla whispers to him. 

“Kay, will you bring in some extra drinks from the garage fridge? Dinner will be ready soon.” 

Mikayla does as she’s told, grabbing a few sodas and beers. She cracks open a can of hard seltzer she’d grabbed for herself and offers one to Nick. He raises an eyebrow at Mikayla’s drink choice—she’s not quite 20 yet, but she’s been drinking since high school—and takes a soda for himself. He’s making a face Mikayla can’t read as he listens to her mom go on and on about how much they’ve been looking forward to having Nick visit.

“Kay’s done nothing but talk about you since the fall,” she’s saying. Mikayla blushes as Nick shoots her an amused look.

“Why does everyone call you Kay?” Nick asks the next night, after her grandparents have left. It’s getting late, and Nick’s voice is pitched low, out on the deck as fireflies flicker around them.

“Hm? Oh, everyone in my family has always called me that.” 

“But everyone at school calls you Mikayla or Mikkie,” Nick says. Except for Nolan Moyle, who decided that “Nick and Mik” was hilarious when they first started dating.

Mikayla shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess Kay is just supposed to be a family thing.” It’s hard to see in the dark, but Mikayla can tell Nick’s eyebrows are creased. “I’m named after my Grandma. Her name is Katherine, but everyone has always called her Kay. My mom is her only daughter and wanted me to keep the name without actually naming me Katherine. She kinda took the nickname Kay and worked backwards until she settled on Mikayla.”

Mikayla still remembers when she started school and never responded to her full name because she had only ever been called Kay. It had worried her teachers for months. 

“So if I started calling you Kay…” Nick says thoughtfully. 

“Nope, family only,” Mikayla says firmly. Plus her best friend, but they’ve been friends so long he’s practically a part of the family anyway. It’s too early to be thinking things like that with Nick. 

“Guess I’ll just have to become a part of the family,” Nick jokes.

Jake kisses Mikayla awake before Nick can kiss her in her dream. She stretches and rolls over in Jake’s bed, warm in the late afternoon sunlight slanting through his blinds. 

“Your mom texted,” Jake says. “She wants you home for dinner.” 

Mikayla will need a shower before she can go home, wash off the sunscreen, the feeling of Jake’s hands on her skin. She rolls back over and burrows into one of Jake’s pillows. “Five more minutes.”

It’s not moving on, but it helps. The summer passes in a haze of sunshine and sex. Mikayla blinks and it’s August, and they’re heading their separate ways again: Jake off to Mississippi, Mikayla packing her car for Ann Arbor.

Jake kisses her goodbye the night before he leaves. Mikayla has to stop herself from clinging to him as he pulls away, beg him not to go. It feels like they’re 18 and leaving each other for the first time, unsure how to live without being by each other’s sides. No catching feelings, Jake had told her. 

“Don’t forget to have some fun this semester, okay?” Jake says now. 

Mikayla has a feeling he’s talking about more than her tendency to care more about hiding from the world in her apartment than hanging out with friends. Though, now that she thinks about it, most of her friends were on the hockey team, a by-product of dating Nick for so long. She’s not sure she’ll be spending much time around them these days. 

“I’ll try,” Mikayla says.

It’s easy enough to settle back into life in Ann Arbor. Mikayla goes to her classes and meets up with her non-hockey friends. They mercifully don’t ask any questions about the breakup. She doesn’t hear from any of the boys from the hockey team, and she tries to convince herself it doesn’t hurt. They were always Nick’s friends first. She was just the captain’s girlfriend. 

The team announces Nolan Moyle as the new captain a few weeks after summer ends. Mikayla stares at the picture on Instagram—Jacob, Luke and Keaton with their shiny new letters and, in the middle of it all, Nolan. She’s known Nolan since she was a freshman, and he was just Nick’s obnoxious best friend. She usually spends the summer idly Snapchatting Moyle photos of her mixed drinks and sunburns, but she hasn’t spoken to him in months. 

She can’t believe she actually misses his loud mouth.

She hesitates before pulling up their text thread, but sends off a quick “congrats on the C!” message before she can think better of it. 

Nolan texts back almost immediately, a string of all the blue and yellow emojis, followed by a more genuine thanks. 

Mikayla expects that to be the end of it—there’s no reason for the conversation to continue, and no reason to believe Nolan is missing her friendship as much as she’s missing his. 

Except Moyle FaceTimes Mikayla later that afternoon, while she’s doing homework. She answers it to a terrible angle of Nolan’s face, mostly nose and that awful mustache he insists on. It looks like he’s walking out of Yost after practice. 

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Nolan asks without preamble.

“Uh, no?” Mikayla checks the time in the corner of her screen. She should probably start cooking soon, though.

“I’m bringing pizza over,” Nolan announces. 

Mikayla hears someone yelling to Nolan off-camera, and he turns to talk to whoever it is. While he’s distracted, the phone jostles until Mikayla is looking directly at the ceiling. The phone shifts again, except this time it’s someone stealing Moyle’s phone and appearing in frame. It’s Truss, and Mikayla finds herself smiling. 

“Hi, Mikkie,” Jacob says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but Nolan wraps him in a headlock before he can get anything out. 

The chaos of it relaxes Mikayla. She’d gotten used to the noise and antics of the hockey team after dating Nick for three years. Her life has been too quiet without them.

“Hey, you’re still coming to games this season, right?” Nolan asks, still grappling with Truss for his phone.

Mikayla had actually planned on avoiding Yost at all costs this year.  

“Probably not?” It would feel weird, Mikayla thinks, to be cheering on all of her other friends at Yost without Nick being there, too. To know so many people out on the ice but not be able to talk to them without feeling like something—someone—is missing. 

Jacob and Nolan stop fighting long enough to gape at Mikayla. Their matching expressions of disbelief are enough to make her laugh. 

“Why not?” Truss asks, at the same time Nolan says, “What, do you not like us anymore?”

Mikayla giggles again, a little more comfortable this time, and shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess I just wasn’t sure I’d want to after Nick dumped me.” 

“That’s stupid, you have to come,” Nolan says. Mikayla knows him well enough to know that he will do everything he can to make sure Mikayla is at every game. “What do you want on your pizza?” Nolan asks, switching topics so fast it nearly gives Mikayla whiplash. 

She was almost hoping Nolan had forgotten he’d talked about pizza. 

“Pepperoni,” she says.

Nolan makes a face. “You always want pepperoni,” he complains. “Whatever, I’ll be over in like, half an hour.” 

He hangs up abruptly. Mikayla blinks at her phone for a moment, bewildered, before going back to her homework. 

Someone’s banging on Mikayla’s door. She doesn’t have to check the peephole to know that it’s Nolan. She throws the door open to Moyle’s grinning face.

“Sup, Mikkie,” he says, shouldering his way past Mikayla and into her apartment. He throws the pizza box down and pulls out the second chair at Mikayla’s little kitchen table. 

“Making yourself right at home, huh?” Mikayla asks. She hands Nolan a plate and settles into the chair across from him. Nolan has a habit of taking up too much space in every room he is in, loud and brash and comfortable. Mikayla had hated that about him when she had first met him, but she has been missing it more than she’d care to admit. 

Nolan grins at her. “Like I never left, baby.”

Mikayla snags another slice of pizza and watches Nolan across the table. It’s not too different from casual dinners shared with Nick last year, after she’d moved into her first apartment. Not too different from another September night after Nick had been named captain last season.

It’s not a surprise, exactly, when Nick calls Mikayla to tell her that the team has offered him the C for his senior season. He’d known for a while, had walked away from a deal with Colorado in part because of the chance to be captain. Mikayla still screams into the phone with excitement, covering Nick’s chuckle on the other end. 

Nick appears at Mikayla’s door later that evening with takeout for dinner. He has a few seconds to grin at Mikayla before she’s launching herself at him.

“Whoa, hang on,” Nick says, struggling to catch Mikayla and not drop their food. 

Mikayla keeps her arms looped around Nick’s neck as they shuffle awkwardly into her apartment. Nick carefully sets the bag of food down on Mikayla’s kitchen table. She does her best to jump up into Nick’s arms, and he helps, sliding his hands to the backs of her thighs, hitching her up higher.

“Hi there,” Nick says, grinning so widely his eyes crinkle. 

Mikayla kisses him fiercely, cupping his face in her hands. She pulls away just enough to say, “I’m so proud of you, Nick.”

And she really is. Nick’s come so far in his years at Michigan, from walk-on to captain, and Mikayla’s been lucky enough to be by his side for a lot of it. 

Nick kisses her again. They end up having to re-heat their dinner. 

Nolan nudges Mikayla with his foot, jolting her out of her thoughts.

“Whatcha thinking about over there?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Mikayla says quickly. It seems pitiful to say that she’s thinking about Nick. Nolan looks skeptical. “Just wondering who exactly thought it was a good idea to make you captain, actually.”

“Hey!” Nolan protests.

Moyle re-inserts himself into Mikayla’s life after that. He drags her out to the senior house to meet all the new freshmen—she spends a week and a half mixing up the Fantilli brothers— and he drags her out to Skeeps for more than one Thirsty Thursday in the early weeks of the semester before the hockey season starts properly.

He laughs so hard when Mikayla tells him about her semi-failed Hot Girl Summer that she’s pretty sure he’s going to snort beer out his nose. Mikayla frowns into her own drink, a Blue Hawaiian that Nolan had mocked, even though he kept stealing sips in between bites of fries. Mikayla kicks him as hard as she can underneath the table.

When Nolan has finished laughing, he says, “You planning a Hot Girl Fall?” He sweeps an arm out for dramatic effect. “Lot more options here in Ann Arbor.”

Mikayla shrugs. “I might.” Nolan already knows that Nick is the only guy she’s ever dated. “See what it’s all about, y’know?” See what was so appealing about the idea of casual hook-ups to Nick that he broke up with her to chase them.

Nolan’s smirk grows. “Wanna start tonight?” He casts a look over the crowded bar floor. “I’m sure I can find someone acceptable for you.”

“Acceptable by whose standards?” Mikayla asks, but she is ignored. She kicks Nolan under the table again to get his attention. He swears under his breath and kicks her back, but at least he’s looking at her. “Nolan, I don’t know how to flirt or any of that shit.”

Nolan grins at Mikayla. She recognizes that grin—it usually means Nolan’s up to no good.

“Trust me, baby, you’re pretty and smart. You won’t have any problems.”

Nolan scans Skeeps for another minute or two before he points to a guy around their age, standing at the bar and bobbing his head to the music the DJ is playing. Mikayla feels like she’s seen him around campus before.

“Bet you can get him to buy you a shot,” Nolan says.

Mikayla rolls her eyes, but drains the last of her drink and stands up. She makes her way over to the bar and slides in next to the guy Nolan had pointed out for her. He turns and smiles at Mikayla.

“Want to do a shot with me?” Mikayla blurts before she can think better of it.

The guy shrugs. “Why not?” He flags a bartender down and orders for them. It’s too loud to hear what he orders, but it goes down easy. “Wanna dance?” he asks next.

Mikayla never does catch his name, but they spend a while on the crowded dance floor. She doesn’t go home with him, either, but he buys her another drink before she has to hunt down Moyle again. 

“Did you have fun?” Nolan asks with a smirk when she collapses back into her seat across the table from him. 

“Shut up.”

That night starts a spiral for Mikayla—a semester full of hook-ups and one night stands. She feels like she’s hunting whatever it is about mindless, loveless sex that was so enticing to Nick. She wonders if she missed out on something when she was with Nick for most of her college years. Is it better? Is it more fun? She doesn’t know the answer, but it doesn’t stop her from sleeping with a new guy every week. 

There’s the frat boy who was enthusiastic but left beard burn in rather unsavory places.

Another frat guy who locks the door to a bathroom and pulls up her skirt at a party Mikayla isn’t even sure she belongs at, or how she even got through the door. 

The lacrosse player who reminds Mikayla a little too much of Nick, when he’s handing her water before the sweat on her body has even cooled.

The guy from one of her classes who she manages to do more with than just fuck—three whole dates—before he says he isn’t looking for anything serious. 

The boy from the bar who buys her a drink and makes out with her in the hallway, but doesn’t take her home. There’s a hickey on her collarbone she spends a week hiding, after that one. 

One who approaches her in the library on a rainy day and drives her home. He’s the first one Mikayla invites up to her apartment, and she’s not sure she ever really gets his name. (“He’s pretty brave for getting past the RBF,” Truss comments later, after Mikayla ditched him in the library. She throws her computer mouse at him.)

The boys—their names, their faces—start to blur together between late nights studying and early morning classes. Mikayla feels nothing, feels like she could scream. She puts her head down and does her homework. Focuses on getting good grades, focuses on the next time she’s getting laid. 

Nolan Moyle is by her side through it all, buying her drinks, playing wingman. He makes sure Mikayla starts coming to hockey games at Yost again, and he drags her out with the team after wins, until Mikayla slots back into friendships with the rest of the team, too. It’s kind of nice to have Nolan watching her back when they’re out at Skeeps, once Mikayla gets over the weirdness of her ex-boyfriend’s best friend helping her go out and hook-up. 

There’s a party at the senior house after finals end in December. It’s lowkey, as far as team parties go, just the guys and their girlfriends. Mikayla slips in late after spending far too long agonizing over what to wear, before realizing she was being ridiculous and throwing on jeans and a Michigan sweatshirt. There’s yelling coming from the living room, so Mikayla sneaks into the kitchen to grab a beer. 

“Stooping to our level?” Luke asks, suddenly appearing over her shoulder. Mikayla swears, nearly dropping her freshly opened can. He takes a sip of his own beer, smirking. Mikayla wonders how she always ends up with the bitchiest freshman as her favorites.

“I spend too much time around Nolan,” Mikayla says, taking a drink with a grimace. Beer never has been her favorite, though she’s unfortunately gotten a bit more used to it. She swats at the brim of Luke’s Yankees hat. “You’re not even twenty yet, who gave you a beer in the first place?”

Luke steps back, out of Mikayla’s reach. “Can’t play beer pong without beer,” he says, resettling his hat. That explains the yelling then. “Nolan wants you as his second, by the way,” Luke calls over his shoulder as he makes his way back out of the kitchen. 

Mikayla heaves a sigh, takes another fortifying drink of her still-sorta-disgusting beer, and follows Luke. Nolan whoops when Mikayla steps into the living room and makes his way over to throw his arm around Mikayla's shoulders. 

She lets herself be pulled into Nolan’s side as he yells, “Me and Mik are in next game!” 

Playing as Nolan’s second is familiar after months and months of it. They’ve actually turned into quite the force to be reckoned with. The evening passes quickly with Nolan by her side, plying her with more drinks as they beat more and more of his teammates at beer pong. A cheer goes up when they beat Holtzy and his girlfriend. Nolan wraps Mikayla in a hug so strong it lifts her off her feet. 

Mikayla turns to celebrate with Nick, too—except Nick’s not there. Of course Nick isn’t there; he moved on to bigger and better things. 

It’s getting late when Mikayla slips upstairs to find the bathroom and get some air. It’s hot downstairs, despite the December chill outside. There’s a window at the end of the hallway, and Mikayla throws it open, gasping in the cold air. Someone has knocked the screen out at some point, allowing Mikayla to lean halfway out the window. The street is quiet, but she can still hear the party downstairs. A tear slips down her cheek, and she lets it. 

That’s where Nolan finds her a few minutes later. “Hey, there you are,” he says lowly. “Been looking for you, Mik.” 

Mikayla tries to dry her face with her sweatshirt sleeve. She hopes it doesn’t fuck up her makeup. She turns to face Nolan. “Just needed a little time to cool off.”

Nolan’s looking at her with concern. He doesn’t even look tipsy, despite the fact that he’s had a drink in his hand all night. Mikayla, on the other hand, has probably had too much to drink, so much she’s dizzy with it.

“Everything okay?” Nolan asks.

“Yeah, I just—“ Mikayla cuts herself off. She can’t finish that thought, can’t admit that she misses Nick.

Later, Mikayla will blame the alcohol for what happens next. Blame the sleep deprivation and stress of finals week. Blame the heartbreak, finally catching up to her. 

Nolan stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder when she tries to lean in. “Mikkie, what are you doing, babe?” he asks softly. They’re still in the upstairs hallway of the senior house. Any one of Nolan’s teammates could come upstairs and see them, see Mikayla pressed up against the captain in the dark. 

She tries to pull away, but Nolan slides his hand from her shoulder down to her wrist. His fingers wrap easily around her wrist, grip gentle but firm enough Mikayla can’t escape. “I— I don’t know, I shouldn’t— I’m sorry.” She tries to pull away again, but Nolan tightens his hold.

“Hey, c’mon,” he says. There’s a note of teasing in his voice, one that’s familiar. Mikayla has known Nolan Moyle for four years. Teasing she can handle. She dares to look up at him and his stupid mustache. He’s grinning at her. “You know we shouldn’t.” Mikayla nods. “That’s not fair to Nick, I couldn’t do that to him.”

That makes Mikayla bristle. She finally manages to yank her hand free and crosses her arms at Nolan. “I don’t give a fuck about Nick,” she insists. Honestly, she really hadn’t even been thinking about Nick—if only for a moment.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” Nolan says gently. Mikayla’s eyes burn suddenly; God, she must be more drunk than she thought. Nolan wraps her in a hug. “I think it’s time to get you to bed, huh, Mik?”

Mikayla sleeps in Nolan’s bed that night, wakes up hungover in one of his T-shirts. Moyle’s not in bed next to her like he was when they fell asleep, too close in Nolan’s too small bed. Mikayla rolls over and winces at the sunlight streaming through the open curtains. She really shouldn’t have had so much to drink at the party; she’s supposed to be driving back home for break later today. 

Mikayla’s debating whether she can get up and sneak out before Nolan returns from wherever he’s disappeared to when the bedroom door creaks open. Nolan pokes his head in, as if this isn’t literally his bedroom. 

He grins when he sees that Mikayla’s awake and kicks the door open the rest of the way. He’s holding a coffee in each hand, one for himself and one for Mikayla. He throws himself onto the bed near Mikayla’s legs. 

“So,” Nolan starts. Mikayla pulls her legs to her chest and glares at Nolan. “We’re talking about last night.” 

In all the years Mikayla has known Nolan Moyle, he’s been chronically allergic to being serious, but he’s looking at her now without a trace of a smile on his face. “We don’t have to,” Mikayla says, but she takes the iced coffee Nolan is still holding out to her.

“I don’t know how you drink that stuff in the winter,” he comments blithely before continuing. “It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with you, Miks, but you’re Nick’s girl.”

“Not Nick’s girl anymore,” Mikayla snaps. “He made that pretty clear.” Her eyes are burning with unshed tears again, and she gulps her coffee to cover it. 

Nolan’s undeterred. “He asks about you, you know.”

“Fuck off, no way he does.” For all that Nolan’s probably one of Mikayla’s best friends in Ann Arbor these days, he was Nick’s best friend first. The reminder stings a little. She’s not sure how she feels about the fact that they’ve apparently been talking about her, or that Nolan is just now telling her this. 

Nolan digs out his phone. “Has too.” He scrolls for a moment before starting to read out texts from Nick. They’re all about her: how she’s doing, if she’s still coming to games at Yost, and, horrifyingly, if she’s seeing anyone. Mikayla kicks at Nolan until he stops reading. He locks his phone and makes a face at Mikayla. “You’re lucky I haven’t told him that you’ve been sleeping your way through three different frats.”

Mikayla makes a face back. “That’s none of your fucking business,” she tells him. Nor is it exactly true, though she has maybe fucked more than one guy from more than one fraternity this semester. 

“Our Nick’s pining, babe,” Nolan insists.

“Someone needs to remind Nick that he broke up with me so he could fuck other girls without strings attached.”

Nolan scoffs. “We both know Nick’s not that kind of guy,” he says. 

Mikayla sighs. Nolan is right about that part. It’s part of the reason Mikayla had been so caught off guard by Nick ending things. Nick was the type of guy to settle down, not fuck around. 

“Have you been possessed by Truss or something?” Mikayla asks instead of unpacking everything Nolan’s revealed. “Since when can you hold a serious conversation for this long?” It’s almost unsettling.

“I’m worried about you,” Nolan says, once again undeterred by Mikayla trying to deflect. “Both of you actually.”

“I’m fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mikayla says. She picks at a loose thread on Nolan’s sheets to avoid meeting his eyes. 

“This isn’t like you, either, Mik,” Nolan says. 

Mikayla finally decides she’s done with this conversation. She throws off the blankets and clambers out of Nolan’s bed. She momentarily forgets that she’s wearing nothing but one of Nolan’s shirts until she sees him looking at her bare legs. He looks back up at her face, leering. Heartfelt conversation officially over. 

Mikayla doesn’t have anything to throw at his head. “Get out,” she says, trying not to laugh.

“This is my room,” Nolan points out. He’s holding back laughter, too. “Hey, are you going to the Wings game in January, like right after break ends?”

Mikayla blinks at him, thrown off by the sudden topic change. “Uh, no?” It’s been a while since she drove into Detroit to catch a game. It used to be a monthly date with Nick. 

“We should go,” Nolan says. There’s something falsely confident about his tone of voice.

Mikayla squints at him, suspicious. “Why, who are they playing?”

Nolan’s bravado falters for a moment, and that’s enough answer for Mikayla. 

“No, no way.”

“I think you two need to talk,” Nolan counters. 

“I don’t think there’s anything left to talk about.” She finds the jeans she was wearing last night and pulls them on. 

“KJ will want to see you,” Nolan says. There’s a smirk on his face now.

“That’s not fair.” Everyone knew that KJ had been one of her favorite freshmen. 

“Just…think about it, okay?” Nolan asks.

Mikayla heaves a sigh. “Fine, whatever.” 

Nolan grins and smacks a kiss to Mikayla’s temple. “Text me when you get home to Saginaw.” 

Mikayla’s only a little later leaving her apartment than she’d originally told her mom she’d leave, after rushing home from the senior house and frantically finishing packing for winter break. 

She thinks while she drives. It’s finally starting to hit her, just how much she’s been missing Nick. She’d been telling herself she was fine, hiding the heartbreak with hook-ups. If Nick can do it, so can I, she’d thought vindictively more than once. She had never slept with anybody before Nick; now she’s not sure she could count all the guys she’s slept with since summer. 

She thinks of all the times she went home with Nick over the holidays before they drove up to Saginaw to spend time with her family. Both of their moms had been absolutely thrilled when they’d started dating, so excited that they’d each found another Michigander to fall in love with. She thinks of the first time she’d come home with Nick, Christmas of her sophomore year, so nervous she’d felt like she was going to throw up in the passenger seat of Nick’s car.

“You’re going to be fine,” Nick says, reaching across the console to take Mikayla’s hand. She sends him an exasperated look. “Mikkie, seriously, everyone will love you.” Nick brings Mikayla’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of her hand. “C’mon, everyone’s waiting.”

“That’s the problem,” Mikayla grumbles, but she lets Nick let go of her hand and shoves open her car door. 

Nick insists on carrying both of their bags, which means Mikayla is left to push open the front door. She’s met with a wall of noise and warmth. It’s immediately comforting in a way she didn’t expect, reminds her of home and her own family. 

Nick drops Mikayla’s duffel bag on the floor next to her just as Nick’s mom rounds the corner. She rushes to Nick for a hug before turning on Mikayla and wrapping her in one too. 

“Everyone’s so excited to meet you, Mikayla,” Nick’s mom says. She turns to Nick. “Take those bags upstairs. Mikayla can have Katrina’s old room, shoo,” she says with a smile, flapping her hands at both of them. 

Mikayla trails after Nick as he dumps his own bag in his bedroom before stepping down the hall and dropping Mikayla’s bag at the foot of the bed in what must be Katrina’s room. He turns to Mikayla with a grin. 

“I told you it was going to be fine,” he says.

Mikayla doesn’t point out that they’ve only encountered Nick’s mom so far, which hardly even counts because she’s talked to Karin on phone calls with Nick countless times, just lets herself be reeled in for a quick kiss. They’re probably pushing their luck just being alone up here. Nick takes Mikayla’s hand in his and leads the way back downstairs.

It’s annoying when Nick’s right about things, which is unfortunately often. The days at the Blankenburgs’ house do turn out to be fine. More than fine, actually. Everyone’s nice, if a bit overwhelming. Mikayla holds so many babies—young cousins and nieces and nephews—that she loses track of which baby belongs to whom. She wins several overly aggressive games of Spoons on Christmas Eve, much to Nick’s chagrin. Nick even sneaks into her room and squeezes next to her under the covers in the early blue dawn on Christmas morning, kissing her awake before pulling her close to doze back off. 

They’re definitely pushing their luck with that one, but Mikayla can’t bring herself to care, cozy and safe from the frosty world beyond the curtains. 

Mikayla blinks away the memory and pulls into her parents’ driveway. Her dog is waiting for her on the front lawn, holding her favorite toy and wiggling all over. Mikayla throws her door open and throws herself on the ground next to her dog, heedless of the frozen grass. They lay there, staring at the sky, until Mikayla’s fingers go numb and her mom is calling for her to come inside, while Mikayla thinks and thinks. 

Jake’s home for the holidays, too, and he appears to drag Mikayla out of bed a few days after she’d gotten home. 

“How’d you even get in here,” Mikayla complains into her pillow as Jake flops onto the bed next to her, half on top of her. The dog, who’d been sleeping on the floor next to Mikayla, decides she has to be included too and launches herself onto the bed.

“Your mom loves me,” Jake says. “C’mon, I’m bored, we should do something.”

There’s not much to do in Saginaw on any day, especially in the winter, but Mikayla elbows Jake until he rolls off her and she can get out of bed. They end up in Jake’s car, just driving around town with the music up loud. Jake only raises his eyebrows a little bit at the amount of Noah Kahan mixed in with Christmas songs on Mikayla’s playlist. 

It’s always easy to fall back into old habits with Jake, and they complain about professors and classes for a while, trading stories, even though they’ve been having weekly hours-long phone calls since they were freshmen. Jake had kept quiet about Mikayla’s dating life—or hook-up life—throughout the semester, but he doesn’t hesitate to be nosy now.

“Seeing anyone?” he asks at a stoplight, looking sidelong at Mikayla. 

Mikayla makes a face. “You know I’m not,” she says. She’d stopped sleeping around so much as the end of the semester approached, tired of the effort required for mostly mediocre lays. Tired as she started missing Nick more and more. 

“Really?” Jake asks. He almost actually sounds surprised. “No romance in one night stands?” 

They’re moving again, and Mikayla is briefly safe from Jake’s gaze. He knows how to read her face better than anyone, and Mikayla’s afraid of what might be showing now as she says, “Didn’t really have the heart for it.”

Jake’s quiet for a moment. Mikayla watches in slow motion as he comes to a stop at another red light before turning towards her again. He leans in before Mikayla can stop him, but she pulls away. There’s no hurt on Jake’s face, just confusion. No catching feelings, Mikayla thinks again. 

“There’s something else, though, isn’t there?” Jake asks. 

“Moyle says Nick’s still in love with me,” Mikayla says quietly. 

Jake laughs. “And why shouldn’t he be? I always thought he was an idiot for breaking up with you in the first place.” Mikayla takes a shaky breath, but Jake continues. “Any guy would be stupid to let you go, Kay.”

“Including you?” Mikayla whispers. Jake laughs. “Especially me. I should have locked that shit down in high school.” Mikayla can’t help but laugh, too. “I probably would have let you back then.” 

They’d talked about it a few times, on their backs in the backyard grass, staring up at the summer stars. Mikayla had never been serious about it, not really, but now she has to wonder if Jake had been serious. The talk about going to college together, moving to Detroit together. They’d been attached at the hip— “You can’t spell Jake without Kay,” Mikayla’s grandmother had joked more than once. 

“And now?” Jake asks. They’re still idling in front of Mikayla’s house. At some point, Jake shifted to holding Mikayla’s hand over the gearshift, gripping it tightly in his own. 

“What happened to ‘no catching feelings’?” Mikayla teases, and Jake cracks a grin. Mikayla heaves a sigh. “I think you know the answer here, Jakey.”

“I don’t want Nick to break your heart a second time,” Jake says fiercely.

“The Blue Jackets are coming to Detroit in January,” Mikayla says. “Nolan thinks I should at least talk to Nick.” 

“Since when do you listen to Moyle’s ideas?” Jake snorts.

“Since he got the C and grew up a little, God, I don’t know.” Jake does have a point. Agreeing with Nolan Moyle is dangerous, even if he has turned out to be a pretty good leader. Mikayla shakes their joined hands a little. “Hey, if Nick does break my heart again, you’re the first person I’ll run to.”

“Promise?” Jake asks. He’s grinning, easy with it. “That’s what best friends are for, right? Swearing to kill your ex and then helping you get drunk to forget about him?” 

Mikayla can’t help but laugh. “Something like that.” And before she can think better of it, she asks, “Can I do something stupid?”

Jake has barely said, “Of course,” when Mikayla leans across the console to kiss him one last time, her hands on either side of his face. Jake kisses back hard, leaving Mikayla breathless when she pulls away. “Hell of a goodbye, Kay,” Jake says. 

“I’ll see you later, Jakey,” Mikayla says, kicking open the passenger door and climbing out of Jake’s car. 

Mikayla cries on Christmas Eve. She’d had too much wine to drink with dinner, and she collapses into her bed as snowflakes drift past the window. It’s the first time she’s really let herself cry since Nick dumped that June day. She’d alternated between resolutely not thinking about him and going through life powered by a need for—revenge? vindication? She’s not sure she can put a word to it. 

It didn’t matter, anyway; Nick wasn’t around for Mikayla to hurt with her actions the same way Nick had hurt her. 

Mikayla wakes up with a headache and Nick’s contact open on her phone. 

Mikayla calls Nolan as soon as she’s back in Ann Arbor.

“You lied to me,” she says without preamble.

“What?” Nolan says. There’s commotion on his end of the line, which means he’s probably at Yost.

“Columbus is here this weekend, and you’re playing Ohio State.” There’s a text from KJ on Mikayla’s phone, asking if she’ll be at Yost on Friday night. It had come in while she was driving back to her apartment.  She hasn’t answered it. “You said you’d go to the Wings game with me when they were in town.”

“I did say that, didn’t I? In my defense, I didn’t realize they were coming in on a weekend.”

“KJ texted me,” she says. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, someone said something about KJ and Nick coming out for their rings on Friday.”

Mikayla suddenly has a headache. Nick was never supposed to come back to Ann Arbor. Mikayla had been so proud of him when he first signed with Columbus, but he had deliberately left her and Ann Arbor in the rear view. Ann Arbor was hers now.

Nolan’s still talking. “—talk, you should still come to the game on Friday.” 

Mikayla can’t think of much worse than having to see Nick at Yost. “I’m not going to fucking talk to Nick about our breakup at a hockey game.” She’d rather not have a breakdown in front of the entire hockey team, thanks.

“Okay, so I bring him over to your apartment after the game.”

“Absolutely not,” Mikayla says. 

“Mik.”

“Nolan.” 

“You said you’d talk to him,” Nolan says. 

“I said I would think about talking to him,” Mikayla counters. She hears Nolan sigh loudly through the phone. “What the fuck am I even supposed to say? ‘Sorry to hear that wheeling girls isn’t satisfying like you’d hoped’? Or, ‘I’ve slept with so many guys this semester I’ve lost track, but I haven’t found one that makes me feel the way being with you did’?” Mikayla snaps her mouth shut. She’s said too much.

“Oh, Mik,” Nolan says. He’s not teasing, which would be preferable to the pity in his voice.

“Moyle, shut the fuck up,” Mikayla snaps.

“Mik, you need to talk to Nick,” Nolan says, ignoring her. “I don’t need to do anything,” Mikayla says. 

Nolan sighs again. “Fine, I can’t make you do anything, I guess.” With that, he hangs up.

Surprised, Mikayla stares at her phone. She’s not sure she has ever actually made Nolan mad like that before. 

Mikayla spends the week leading up to Friday thinking. Nolan hasn’t spoken to her since he hung up the phone, and Mikayla doesn’t dare seek him out. KJ texts Mikayla three more times, with increasing levels of urgency and annoyance as they all go unanswered. Mikayla’s not sure what there is to say. She can’t promise anything.

She’s half-sure she’s going to skip the game right up until she walks through the doors of Yost on Friday afternoon. It’s loud and as crowded as ever, but there’s an extra kind of excited energy in the air. Mikayla isn’t sure if it’s just the Ohio State rivalry, but she wonders if some of the buzz she feels is because everyone else is just as excited about Nick and KJ returning as she’s supposed to be.

Mikayla doesn’t see either of them as she settles into her seat in the student section. She slides her phone out of her pocket, finds all of her unread messages from KJ. don’t leave without saying hi to me after the game, she sends. She puts her phone back away without waiting to see if KJ reads it. 

The game itself isn’t pretty. Michigan gets outplayed, even though it’s tied after the first, but it’s 6-2 Ohio by the time they’re introducing KJ and Nick as the Score-O participants at second intermission. 

Nick looks good, unfortunately. He seems happy to be back on the ice at Yost, even briefly. Even KJ manages a smile as the crowd cheers for them. Mikayla thought she’d heard something about Nick breaking his ankle earlier in the season, but it doesn’t seem to bother him at all as he scores and runs across the ice to throw his stick into the crowd. Mikayla rolls her eyes. 

She’s standing in the concourse after the game when someone throws themselves at Mikayla from behind. She stumbles, but he wraps his arms around her shoulders before they both fall. KJ. Of course. She leans back into his chest, lets him rest his chin on top of her head. 

“Moyle said you weren’t coming,” KJ says. He doesn’t move his chin from Mikayla’s head as he talks, and Mikayla elbows him until he lets her go. 

“Yeah, well, you should never listen to Moyle,” Mikayla says. She tries to sound breezy, but she probably doesn’t succeed.

Kent gives her a flat look. Mikayla finally spots Nick, approaching from behind KJ. If Mikayla still had any intentions of ignoring him, it’s too late now. Nick sends her a tight smile as he steps up beside KJ. Kent looks back and forth between the two of them for a moment then sighs loudly.

“Figure your shit out, I’m tired of dealing with Nick,” he says to both of them. Mikayla crosses her arms and tries to glare at KJ. “I’m going outside, you two have ten minutes to talk.” He points at Mikayla. “We’re getting ice cream before we have to go back to Detroit.” 

Kent stalks off before Nick or Mikayla can get a word in, which leaves Mikayla alone in a hallway with her ex. She swears at KJ under her breath. She’s not sure, but she thinks she hears Nick let out a quiet laugh. 

“Hi,” Mikayla says. She wishes desperately for anyone to come save her, but no one comes. 

Nick drags the toe of his sneaker across the floor. “Hey, Mikkie,” he says softly. “I’ve been wanting to talk—”

“Good job at Score-O tonight,” Mikayla blurts, cutting him off. She winces. 

“Mikkie, c’mon,” Nick says, exasperated. “We need to talk.” “Do we, though?” Mikayla says. “I didn’t think there was any ambiguity left when you dumped me, so you could go off and fuck other girls.” 

Nick winces. It doesn’t make Mikayla feel any better. “It was—“ 

Mikayla cuts him off again. “Don’t you dare say ‘it was complicated,’” Mikayla warns. “I don’t think there’s anything complicated about you deciding I wasn’t enough after you made it to the show. There’s nothing left to talk about, Nick.”

Mikayla had spent months pretending that she hadn’t been hurt by Nick, but she was exhausted by it. The idea that the boy you fell in love with, who you thought you were going to marry, no longer wants you and will go out to find someone else, whether or not you’re still together, isn’t an easy one to accept. She’d covered up that hurt with alcohol and sex and schoolwork. It’s a lot more raw and real with Nick standing in front of her with the same resolute stare he’d had when he was breaking up with her.

“I miss you, Mikkie,” Nick says. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his hair curling out from underneath his beanie. 

Mikayla almost believes him. She runs her hands through her hair. “Stop calling me that,” she says. “And don’t lie to me.”

“What, Mikkie? I’ve always called you that.”

“That was when we were dating.”

“And why do you think I’m lying?”

They’re talking over each other, voices rising in the small space. Yost is empty around them. 

“Why would you break up with me if you were just going to come crawling back a few months later?” Mikayla asks. She thinks of Nolan telling her that Nick spent the fall asking about her. “Why have you been asking Nolan about me?”

Nick sighs. “I just told you. I miss you. I knew you wouldn’t want to hear from me, so instead I got to listen to Nolan tell me stories of you moving on.”

Mikayla will have to kill Nolan for that later. “I wasn’t moving on, not really,” Mikayla admits. She pushes her hair away from her face again. “I was just doing everything I could to not think about you.”

“I was trying to protect you,” Nick says. “I was going to be so far away, and traveling all the time, and you were supposed to go on to grad school next fall. I didn’t want to hold you back, and I didn’t want to make a mistake and hurt you.” Nick laughs, but it isn’t a happy sound. “I think I just made both of us miserable.”

“I spent so much time thinking that I had to prove something, that if you could handle being stupid and sleeping around, so could I,” Mikayla says. 

At some point Nick has cautiously stepped closer to Mikayla. She leans back against the wall behind her, sagging with the sudden exhaustion of this conversation. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been standing here, how long KJ has been waiting outside without a coat for them to “figure their shit out.”

“Ask KJ, I was pretty bad at the whole casual hook-up thing,” Nick says.

Mikayla presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. She’d rather die than ask Kent for details of all of Nick’s hook-ups. 

“I tried to kiss Moyle before Christmas,” Mikayla blurts out.

Nick is quiet. Mikayla hesitantly moves her hands from her eyes to look at him. 

He’s looking at her, bewildered. Apparently that’s one thing about Mikayla’s Hot Girl Fall that Nolan didn’t tell Nick. 

Mikayla continues. “He stopped me, I was drunk and confused, and he’s my best friend, but he was your best friend first, then he told me that he couldn’t because I’m your girl, even though I’m definitely fucking not, and—“ Mikayla gasps for air. “I can’t keep doing this.” 

Nick steps even closer. He slowly, hesitantly, reaches for Mikayla. She lets herself be pulled in for a hug as she starts to cry. Nick rubs one of his hands in slow circles on Mikayla’s back underneath her sweatshirt, the way he used to when Mikayla was upset. 

“Hey, slow down, it’s okay,” he says. “Mikkie, it’s okay.” Nick holds Mikayla until her crying subsides and her breathing evens back out. He takes a step back, but doesn’t let go of Mikayla’s arms. “What happens now?” he asks. He hesitates, but says, “I think I’m still in love with you.”

Mikayla blinks at him. She was kissing her best friend just a few weeks ago. She was trying to sleep with Moyle just a week before that. Nick’s confession doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, but it doesn’t simplify anything.

“Nick, I don’t know,” she says. “I might still love you, too, but—” Nick’s face brightens— “I think I need some time.” Nick’s face falls again. 

“Why?” Nick argues. “We’ve had time, we both want this, I don’t get—” “What if I don’t want this?” Mikayla cuts in. “I don’t know what I want.” She doesn’t think she’s ever been so confused in her life.

Nick frowns at Mikayla. “But you just said—” 

“I know what I just said, just—” Mikayla switches arguments. “When was the last time you slept with another girl?”

Nick looks taken aback. “I don’t know, around New Year’s?”

Not even two weeks ago. 

“How am I supposed to believe you when you say you miss me while you’re still running around fucking other girls? That you’re serious? Maybe you just think you miss me because you just haven’t found the right girl?”

Nick doesn’t argue this time, face turning red. 

“What am I supposed to do if we get back together and you turn around and cheat on me? When you realize you were right in the first place, that the distance is too hard and that I might not actually be the one you want?” 

“When was the last time you slept with another guy?” Nick finally says. Mikayla feels like it should sting, but it’s a fair question. “What am I supposed to do here?”

“I haven’t slept with anyone since before finals,” Mikayla says. There was the failed move on Moyle, then one last kiss with Jake back in Saginaw. Those hardly count. Nick blinks at Mikayla. “I don’t know what to do, Nick, honestly. We could both stop sleeping with other people, for one thing.” 

“Done,” Nick says quickly.

Mikayla narrows her eyes at Nick, suspicious. “That’s it?” she asks. “All that drama to break up with me to sleep around, and you agree to stop, just like that?”

Nick looks sheepish for the first time. “I’m telling you, I was terrible at doing casual. I kept asking them all to stay the night and shit.” There’s a pause before Nick bursts out, “What are you so afraid of?”

“You, Nick!” Mikayla almost wants to laugh, but she also feels like she might cry again. “I think…” she says slowly, “that we both need to know that this is what we want. I don’t think I want to let this go so easy, but I don’t want to get hurt again, either.”

Nick looks sad when Mikayla meets his eyes again. “Okay, yeah, yeah,” he says. 

“I just want to be able to focus on my last semester, y’know?” Mikayla says.

Nick forces a smile. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “I’ll, uh, see you around, I guess?”

“Yeah, Nick, I’d like that.” It doesn’t feel like a lie when Mikayla says it.

Mikayla doesn’t know where Nick goes, but he doesn’t follow her outside, where she needs to find KJ. He’s leaning against the front doors of Yost, looking pissy and cold, even though it was his idea to go stand outside and wait for Mikayla without a coat. 

He slings an arm around her shoulders and falls into step beside her when he spots her. 

“You know, you could have made your point without standing out in the cold,” Mikayla points out. KJ is a cold line pressed against her left side. “You’re making me cold, now,” she complains. 

“I still want ice cream,” KJ says, instead of admitting he was wrong about something. Mikayla rolls her eyes. 

They end up at Blank Slate, another place she and Nick used to frequent on dates when the weather was warmer. She tries not to think about it as she follows KJ into the shop. 

KJ wastes no time ordering their brown butter cookie dough ice cream, but Mikayla spends so long debating that she’s half-worried KJ is going to order plain vanilla for her out of spite. Finally, Mikayla brings her scoop of vanilla caramel blondie over to where Kent claimed a table in the empty shop. He makes a face at her, but she’s immune to KJ’s bitchiness at this point.

“Nick’s been a mess,” KJ says without preamble.

Mikayla sighs. “Not you, too, KJ,” she says. “Please, I’ve heard enough from Nolan and Nick already.”

KJ points his plastic spoon at Mikayla. It’s probably supposed to be threatening. “No, I don’t think you have, actually. You didn’t have to watch him break his ankle, be miserable about it, then force himself to go out and pick up and be more miserable about it. Do you know how pathetic he was with that fucking scooter?”

Mikayla snorts into her ice cream. “It can’t have been that bad,” Mikayla protests. Though, if Nick was half as miserable as she had been and was pretending not to be, he was probably pretty miserable. 

KJ takes another bite of ice cream, says through it: “Oh, it was.” He swallows and leans across the table. “And then I text Moyle to tell him we need to fix it, only he tells me you’re out doing the same dumb shit as Nick.” 

He’s close enough that Mikayla can flick him between his judgmental eyebrows. He leans back again and takes a petulant bite of ice cream. 

“You and Moyle need to mind your own damn business,” Mikayla tells him. “We were both fine.”

Kent doesn’t even dignify that with a response, just raises one eyebrow. Mikayla wishes he were close enough to smack that disbelieving look off his face.

“We were fine!” Mikayla insists. It doesn’t sound any better the second time. 

“So did you fix your shit?” KJ asks.

Mikayla huffs. “What does that even mean?” She ignores Kent’s eye roll. “There’s nothing to fix.”

“Wait,” KJ says slowly. “Moyle and I Parent Trapped you two for nothing? You didn’t even get back together?”

“No, we didn’t, and—have you ever even seen The Parent Trap?” 

“That’s not the point,” KJ says, “I don’t get it. If you’re both miserable, why not get back together?” 

“Because what if it makes us more miserable? What if it’s not actually what we want? What if we just break up again?”

“Whoa,” Kent says. “Slow down.”

Mikayla’s almost out of ice cream. She looks sadly down at her empty cup. Kent holds his half-eaten ice cream out without a word, and she takes some with her spoon.

“And what if you end up happy?” Kent asks. 

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? Mikayla doesn’t know the last time she was really happy. Before Nick broke up with her, probably.

They finish their ice cream in silence. Kent hugs Mikayla tightly outside Blank Slate. There’s a car idling for him nearby, Nick and whatever members of the Blue Jackets media corps had to make the trip out to Ann Arbor waiting for KJ. 

“Fix your shit,” KJ says again, stepping away at last.

Mikayla rolls her eyes. “Which one of us is the freshman here?”

KJ doesn’t bother pointing out that he’s not a freshman anymore, or even a student at all, just climbs into the backseat of the car at the curb. Mikayla watches as they pull away, stays standing there long after the taillights have disappeared. 

Nick, to his credit—and a little bit to Mikayla’s dismay—doesn’t reach out. Mikayla finds herself half-dreading, half-hoping for a text that never comes. As the days after seeing Nick again stretch into weeks, Mikayla stops expecting to hear from him, tries to squash down the disappointment she feels. 

She throws herself into focusing for her final semester of college. She keeps her promise to Nick—no more sleeping around. She has no idea if he’s actually doing the same. There’s no time for it anyway, with a full class schedule and an internship and all the hockey games Moyle is still insisting she come to. 

Mikayla feels like she blinks, and suddenly it’s April. The hockey team is heading off to the Frozen Four, and Mikayla’s in her final weeks of college. It’s all a little surreal, and more than a little dizzying. 

“You’ll stay in touch, though, right?” she asks Nolan. 

Nolan laughs at her on a fuzzy FaceTime call from his hotel room in Tampa. “Mikkie, baby, you should know by now that you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

That is true. “I couldn’t even get rid of you after I stopped dating your best friend.” She has to laugh, too. “Do you know what you’re gonna do after the year is over?” Mikayla asks.

She vaguely sees Nolan shrug. “Nah, I’ll figure it out.” The conversation feels loaded now, despite Nolan’s light tone. “What about you? Ready for bigger and better things?”

Mikayla had big plans, once. She had picked out the graduate school program she wanted as a freshman, had spent the last four years working towards it. She had other plans, too; ones that included a white dress and a church wedding and Nick waiting at the end of the aisle. 

Grad school is still waiting for her. Mikayla has no idea if Nick is, too.

“I guess so,” Mikayla says at last. She doesn’t feel ready to be taking on the real world outside of school. Maybe it’s just delaying the inevitable, but she’s still glad to be able to push adulthood back a little further. 

“Hey, Mikkie,” Nolan says, still serious. Mikayla looks away from her computer to look properly at him. “Everything’s going to work out, you know.”

Nolan always has had a knack for reading Mikayla’s anxieties. “Promise?” she asks. It comes out watery.

“Promise.”

Michigan loses in the semis again. Mikayla watches as her friends pack up and leave, onto their own futures: Luke goes to Jersey, Portillo heads out to California, Mackie ends up in Charlotte. The end of hockey season is always a whirlwind. She remembers last year, when scouts coming to games turned into Nick signing with Columbus, missing graduation and living his dream in the NHL.

Mikayla’s own cap and gown hang off the back of her closet door. The end is coming for them all, whether or not Mikayla is ready for it. 

The end, when it comes, passes quietly. Mikayla passes her finals, walks in graduation. She packs up her apartment, all of the little bits of her life over the last four years, into boxes and shoves them all into the back of her car. Mikayla leaves Ann Arbor in the rearview mirror as she drives north to Saginaw for the summer.

Mikayla’s only been back in Saginaw a few weeks when she hears from Nick at last. The dog barks at the door once, before she switches to whole body wiggles—Mikayla knows who she’s going to see before she even heads to open the front door. 

Nick is standing awkwardly on the front porch, hands in his pockets, when Mikayla swings the door open. The dog squeezes past Mikayla to say hi to Nick, sitting squarely on one of his feet. 

“Traitor,” Mikayla says. To Nick, she says, “Hey.” 

Nick looks up from rubbing behind the dog’s ears to grin sheepishly at Mikayla. “Hey, uh—“ 

“What would you have done if I hadn’t been home?” Mikayla asks, teasing. 

Nick flushes. “I, uh, didn’t think that far ahead,” he admits. “But you’re here, so it doesn’t matter,” he points out.

Mikayla laughs. “You got in your car, drove an hour and a half, but didn’t think about what would happen when you got here?” 

Nick makes a face. “I did have a plan, I just—“ he breaks off without finishing. “Can we talk?”

It would be mean to tell him no after he drove all the way to Mikayla’s parents’ house to see her. Besides, she’s been waiting anxiously for this moment since she last saw Nick in January.

“Of course,” she says. She looks down at her dog, still sitting happily on Nick’s foot.

“Walk with me?” Nick asks. They both watch as the dog’s ears go up excitedly. 

Mikayla rolls her eyes but reaches back inside to grab her leash off the hook by the door. “Now why would you say the w-word?” she complains. She tosses the leash at Nick, lets him hook it onto her dog’s collar with practiced ease—despite the continued wiggles. Mikayla pulls the front door shut behind her and steps out onto the porch beside Nick.

She almost wishes Nick had asked if he could come inside. This conversation might be easier without the eyes of the neighborhood on them, in the safety of Mikayla’s home. But she’s also grateful to not be confined to the living room. The early summer breeze lifts Mikayla’s hair off the back of her neck, cools the anxious sweat there.

They start off down the sidewalk together—Nick’s still holding the leash. Mikayla wonders if he’s thought about getting a dog since moving to Columbus. That was another thing they’d talked about for the future together—getting a puppy as soon as they’d both graduated.                                                           

Nick stops suddenly as they approach his car, parked on the street in front of the house. He quickly hands Mikayla the leash, fishing in his pockets for something.

“Hang on, I have to—“ He opens the passenger door and grabs a battered notebook off the floor of the footwell. “Okay, we can—“ He starts walking down the street without finishing his sentence.

Mikayla half-jogs to keep up with him. “Nick? I don’t think you’ve said a full sentence since you got here,” she says.

Nick runs a hand over his still-regretfully buzzed hair. Mikayla needs to remember to make fun of him for it later. “Sorry, just—I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous for something,” he says.

Mikayla scoffs, nudges Nick in the ribs with her elbow. He leans into it instead of letting her bully him off the curb. “Whatever, you literally play in the NHL.”

“No hockey game is as important as you,” Nick says seriously. 

Mikayla has to force her feet to keep moving so she doesn’t stop and gape at Nick in the middle of the sidewalk.

He’s running his finger nervously along the bent metal spiral holding together the notebook in his hands. Mikayla stares at it, the way his thumb turns white as he presses hard into the sharp end of the spiral. The notebook feels familiar, blue cardboard cover worn and covered in Nick’s handwriting. She wants to tear it out of his hands, but she waits. 

Nick continues talking. “Do you remember when we met?”

Mikayla has to blink at him for a moment, trying to get past the dissonance of his last two statements. “Well, yeah,” she says. “Of course.”

They’d been in the same elective course together. It was Mikayla’s freshman year, Nick’s sophomore year. Mikayla had never noticed Nick in class before, but she slid into the seat next to him at a study group session organized by one of their classmates, a few weeks into the semester. 

They’d talked for over an hour, about the class, about Michigan. When they were finally forced to pack up and leave the library study room, Nick had stood up and Mikayla had blurted: “Oh.”

“Oh?” Nick had echoed. Mikayla was standing, too, face to face with Nick for the first time. Close enough to clearly see the narrow scar in his eyebrow, watch it move as he raises his eyebrows at her, clearly amused.

“You’re not as tall as I thought you were,” Mikayla had admitted. It doesn’t make much sense when she says it out loud like that.

Nick had bumped into her playfully as they made their way outside. “And how tall did you think I was?” he had teased.

Mikayla huffed at him. “I don’t know, forget I said anything.” But Nick fell into step beside her as she headed back to her dorm, and she dared to ask a stupid question. “How tall are you, anyway?”

“5’8” and some change,” Nick had told her. He burst into laughter when Mikayla had pursed her lips, trying hard not to say anything else out of pocket. “What?” he asked.

“Not very much change, though,” she had said, which just made Nick laugh harder. 

He had asked her out after class two weeks after that day. 

“Your NHL stats lie about your height,” Mikayla points out. Not that she looked, or anything. 

It makes Nick laugh, the same way teasing him about his height always did. Mikayla had always been the only person he would tolerate the jokes from. 

“I’m almost 5’9”!” Nick protests. 

“Almost is not the same thing, Nicholas!” 

“You know, I think I started to fall in love with you from that very first time we met,” Nick says.

Mikayla’s left dumbfounded once again. “Be serious.” 

Nick chuckles wryly. “Why do you always think I’m lying to you lately?”

“I just don’t know what to believe anymore,” Mikayla sighs. “You keep talking about missing me and how long you’ve loved me, but that doesn’t make any sense with the way you broke up with me. You can’t love someone like that and then dump them just so you don’t end up cheating on them.”

Nick’s quiet for a moment. Their hands brush as they walk side by side on the narrow sidewalk. Nick’s still holding that battered blue notebook; Mikayla has no idea why. “Okay, that was a shitty way to end things, and it was shitty of me in general, but I’ve regretted it every moment since then, I need you to believe me on that.”

“And if I do? What then?” Mikayla asks.

Nick starts fidgeting with that notebook again. He runs a finger along the edge of the pages now, fanning them a little. Mikayla watches him, lets him collect his thoughts.

“Long distance goes both ways, you know?” Nick says.

“I—what?”

Nick continues as if Mikayla hadn’t said anything. “I think I thought I was protecting you, I guess? Like, it wouldn’t be fair to you to be stuck with a boyfriend 300 miles away. I didn’t want you to miss out on things because you were still with a guy you only saw a couple of times a year.”

“That’s stupid,” Mikayla announces. It catches Nick off-guard, and he laughs a little. “When did I ever complain about being long-distance?” she asks. She doesn’t wait for an answer. “And I definitely missed out on so much in the years we were together, like the awkwardness of going to class three times a week with a guy you hooked up with a couple of times, or seeing someone you fucked at a party around campus and realizing you don’t even know their name.

“Nick, I never cared about the distance. I was so proud of you, and I loved you so much. I didn’t realize that wasn’t enough.”

“It should have been. I already told you, it was shitty, and it was stupid, Mikkie. I’m trying to fix it now, though.”

“What is that?” Mikayla asks, curiosity finally getting the better of her. She points to the notebook.

Nick looks down at the notebook in his hands like he’s seeing it for the first time. “Oh, uh. It’s a notebook,” he says dumbly. Mikayla wants to smack him. “When we were together, I used to write about you.”

That’s why the notebook seemed so familiar. Mikayla had seen it before: amongst the clutter of Nick’s desk, mixed in with his other books in his backpack, on the floor of her own bedroom when Nick stayed over. She’d never once stopped to wonder what was inside of it.

Nick’s still talking. “It’s not, like, poetry, or anything, but sometimes when I was thinking about you, or when you’d done something that had made me laugh or really realize that I loved you, I’d write it down.”

“And you kept it?” Mikayla asks. 

“I had to dig it out of some box in my old bedroom after I saw you in Ann Arbor in January, but yeah. I, um…” Nick trails off. “I started writing in it again, after that. Just whenever I missed you or something, I’d write it down. I didn’t think I was going to show it to you, though, until I got here.”

They’ve been walking for a while now. They should probably head back, but the sun is warm on Mikayla’s face, and she’s starting to feel something like hope in her chest for the first time in months.

“You haven’t shown me anything,” Mikayla points out, gentle. It’s meant to be teasing, and she thinks Nick gets it. He sighs, long and dramatic. Mikayla thinks he’s only half-serious, but she still says, “Nick, you don’t have to, I believe you.”

And she does. When she thinks about it, she’s seen Nick writing in that notebook over the years. He always closed it when she approached, but Nick had always liked to give Mikayla his full attention. She’d never spared a second thought to the notebook’s contents. 

Nick takes the leash from Mikayla at the same time he passes her the notebook. Their fingers brush as Mikayla takes it carefully from him. In her hands, the notebook looks even worse for wear, dangerously close to falling apart, years and years of use showing in its bent edges.

Mikayla begins to leaf through it slowly. There’s a chunk of pages clumsily torn out of the beginning of the notebook—probably old class notes. The first page left only has a couple of lines, scrawled in Nick’s messy handwriting: met a great girl today gonna ask her out. Then, a few pages later, in the margins of another page of class notes: think I could spend forever with Mikayla.  

Mikayla continues flipping pages. The older pages are more faded, stained with coffee or water rings. Occasionally a page will be dated, but the pages about her are mostly random, a few sentences here, a paragraph there. She can tell when she gets to the newer entries, and not just by the crisp pages. Nick started writing the date at the top of each page, and Mikayla skims through January, into February, March, April. The pages stop abruptly in the end of April, right around the end of hockey season and Mikayla graduating.

That reminds Mikayla: “Sucks that you missed the end of the season with your ankle,” she says. 

If Nick thinks it’s a non-sequitur, he doesn’t show it, just responds, “Eh, it’s whatever. Not like I was playing groundbreaking hockey to begin with.”

Mikayla stops short. “Hang on, no.” Nick stops a few steps ahead of her. He looks over his shoulder, confused. “You didn’t get promoted to top d-pair for playing shitty hockey, Nick.”

Nick grins. “You were paying attention?”

Shit. “Uh,” Mikayla says. It’s way too late to lie. “Maybe a little.” She doesn’t know why she never unfollowed the Blue Jackets on social media, but she’d only stopped scrolling past all of their posts after seeing Nick in January. “Maybe I was just keeping up with KJ.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Nick says. He’s still grinning when he reaches out a hand to Mikayla. “C’mon.”

Mikayla carefully places her hand in Nick’s. He doesn’t let go, even once she’s caught up and they’ve fallen into step together again. 

“It also means I can see your fucking terrible hair decisions as soon as you make them,” Mikayla says. She’d dropped her phone on her face the first time the Blue Jackets posted the buzz cut.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Nick complains. He lets go of Mikayla’s hand to run a hand over the shorn strands again. Mikayla snatches at his hand when he lets it rest back at his side. 

Mikayla huffs. “Everything!” Nick shoots her an amused look. It only makes Mikayla bolder, like nothing has ever changed between them. “Your hair looked so good, and then you fucking buzzed it! And not even well!” Nick’s laughing openly at Mikayla now. She’s not finished. “It’s prickly, and uneven, and you look like a damn hedgehog.” Nick has to stop walking so he can double over in laughter. “Nick,” Mikayla whines. 

“I guess you’d prefer the mullet, then?” he asks when he finally stops laughing.

“Yes.” Mikayla actually kind of enjoyed the playoff mullet each year. “I always liked the mullets.” 

They’ve somehow managed to make it back to Mikayla’s street. She stops at the foot of the driveway, not ready for this conversation to be over. She’s still clutching Nick’s notebook, and she pulls it close to her chest.

“I know you did,” Nick says, suddenly serious. He’s still holding onto Mikayla’s hand, and he uses it to tug her close. He presses a quick kiss to her temple. “I’ve really missed you, Mikkie,” Nick whispers into her hair. 

Mikayla closes her eyes, counts to three. She knows what’s coming. She might finally know the right answer to what Nick’s going to ask. 

“I miss you, Nick,” she says.

It’s been building, the certainty that she still loves Nick enough to give it all a second chance, but this moment, a walk in the sunshine, teasing each other, is what really cemented how much she missed Nick in her life. 

Nick looks hopeful when Mikayla opens her eyes again.

“Yeah?” he says softly. He steps closer, slides a hand around Mikayla’s hip. She lets him, likes the way his hand fits there, warm against her skin. “Do you wanna do this? For real?”

Mikayla nods, no hesitation. She watches as the grin spreads across Nick’s face.

“I’ve missed that smile,” Mikayla says, and then Nick’s kissing her so hard he nearly knocks her off balance. Mikayla drops the notebook and Nick drops the leash—the dog has laid down in protest of her walk ending, anyway—so she can wrap her arms around Nick’s neck and pull him closer.

Nick pulls away for breath first, but he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead to Mikayla’s. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Mikayla asks.

There’s time to talk about what this means, to talk about the future. That can wait. What’s important right now is Nick, here in Mikayla’s arms.

“I’d love to,” Nick says.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

The One Rule (Part 1)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 4. Betrayal, 19. "Why Wasn't I Enough?", 31. Crying, Alt 7. Disowned by Family, Alt 13. Grief Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!Reader Summary: Jake has made some bad mistakes in the past, but nothing compared to this. Now he has to go home and face the consequences of his actions. He only hopes you'll be able to forgive him. Word Count: 5616 TW: Spousal Cheating, Arguing, Kicking Out of House, Mention of Divorce, Parents Splitting Up, Punch Thrown, Language Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for beta reading this for me! This is for @ailesswhumptober's event

Part 2 (Coming Soon)

Jake stood outside the fence and just stared at his house. By this time of morning, you would have already cleaned up the mess from breakfast and would be tidying up around the house as you enjoyed the few hours of alone time you got every Monday. The thought of you carefreely going about with your usual routine, probably dancing or singing to yourself as you always did, made the ache in his chest that much worse. 

Last night, he had screwed up. Bad. As in so bad he might have just destroyed his life as he knew it. And while a huge part of him wanted to keep it a secret in the hopes that you would never find out, he knew that telling you was the only way he stood a chance of making this right. Besides, if you ever somehow found out later what he did and that he had lied about it, there would be absolutely no coming back from that. 

So, taking a deep breath, he opened the gate and walked towards his house. As he began to climb the steps of his porch, it felt as if he were climbing the gallows to his impending execution— an irony that was in no way lost on him. After all these years of being branded with the name, he really was about to be the hanged man.

He had given his keys to Rooster the night before since he was supposed to be the DD, so Jake fished around in the potted plant next to the door until he found the spare key. He unlocked the front door and braced himself for what came next. 

Walking into the house, he didn’t see signs of anyone. However, your car had been parked in the driveway so hesitantly, he called out, “I’m home.” 

There was no response for a moment, but then you came walking out of the laundry room balancing a freshly folded basket of towels on your hip. You must not have heard him over whatever you were listening to because you were bopping your head and swaying to music only you could hear from your headphones. You started slightly when you noticed him standing in the living room, but then a bright smile spread across your face.

“Oh hi, honey. You scared me there for a minute. I wasn’t expecting anyone for another few hours.” You slipped off your earphones and laid them in the basket, the music still softly trickling out of them, as you walked over to him. After planting a warm kiss on his cheek, you resumed your walk back towards the linen closet. Over your shoulder, you called, “I got a little nervous when I didn’t hear from you anymore last night after that text saying you made it back to town. But when you didn’t come home, I talked to Bob and he said you all went out for drinks and you were pretty trashed when he left the bar. Did you stay with Javy, Bradley, or Nat this time?”

Jake didn’t know what to say. He just stood there silently opening and closing his mouth as he tried to find the kindest way to break your heart. But of course, there was none.

You finished putting the towels away and came back over to where he was standing. When he just continued to gape at you, your smile dropped into a concerned frown. “You okay, Jakey? You look like you’re going to be sick. And not in your usual hungover way.” You pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. “Did something happen last night?”

It was now or never. 

Removing your hand from his head, he gave it one last tight squeeze before he gestured to the nearby couch. “Sweetheart… why don’t you have a seat.”

“Okay…,” you said slowly but did as he asked. Once seated, you looked at him with eager anticipation. “What’s up?”

How could he tell you? How could he blow up both of your lives as you gazed at him so lovingly, oblivious to the bomb he was about to drop on you? But then again, he already set the bomb off last night when he went home with someone else. There was no stopping it or taking it back. All he could do was sit here and watch the destruction unfold. 

Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the armchair across from the couch and sank down into it. “Well, we all went to the bar after we made it back stateside last night and we started drinking. I had a few— a lot of shots of some new thing they had and there must have been more alcohol in them than I realized because I got really wasted.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” you scoffed but Jake could hear the nervous edge in your voice. You knew something was wrong and deep down, you probably knew what it was, but you wouldn’t let yourself believe it until Jake said the words. “But like I said, Bob already told me that.”

“Bob wanted to get home so he left early, that I remember. But right after that, I–I blacked out. And I don’t…. I don’t know. I guess the rest of the guys left or didn’t see me or something because they usually stop me–” He snapped his mouth shut as he realized he was probably telling you more than he meant to but he was so afraid of what would happen next that he was rambling a bit. 

“So you were blackout drunk, everyone else had left, and you didn’t come home last night,” you said flatly as you leaned back into the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. “Got it. I can connect those dots.”

Jake swallowed, trying to keep down the bile that was burning in his throat. Besides the aftereffects of his drinking last night, the cold, empty veil that had fallen over your eyes as you looked at him made his stomach churn. “I swear, sweetheart, I would never normally do anything like this but I was just so drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing. I mean, one second I’m talking to this girl by the pool table and the next I was waking up in her bed this morning.”

“But you’re sure–”

“Yeah.” Jake nodded, his eyes dropping to focus on the hardwood floor. “A few flashes of the night came back to me on the way home. It was enough to get a pretty good idea of what we did. But I’m so, so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you like this and just the thought of what I did makes me want to be sick. I never imagined those drinks would hit me that hard or I would have stopped after the second or third one. That isn’t an excuse for what I did but maybe an explanation for why it happened? I don’t know. I wish I could take the whole night back and make it so it never happened. I’m just so sorry.”

He slowly lifted his eyes from the floor as he braced himself for the fury of your response. Yet as he waited for you to react in some way, you didn’t say a word. You just continued to stare straight ahead with that same blank indifference as if in a trance, not even really at him but more at the wall just above his head. However, when he reached out to touch your arm, you suddenly stood up and walked calmly into the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind you.

Jake had expected screaming and cursing. He had expected tears and sobs of disbelief. But he had never imagined this total lack of a reaction. Maybe it hadn’t hit you yet. Maybe the words were settling in and the explosion would come later. Part of him wondered if he should follow you into the bedroom to continue to beg for your forgiveness. He went up to the door and pressed his ear against it as he rested his hand on the doorknob. He could hear some slight rustling and moving around, but it didn’t sound like you were crying or yelling or really making any noise at all.

After a moment, Jake decided it was better to leave you alone for now to try and wrap your head around everything he told you. So, he quietly backed away from the door and retreated to the kitchen where he got himself a glass of water and a few aspirin. His massive hangover was the cherry on top of this shit-tastic sundae the last 12 hours had become. He just hoped he was clear-headed enough to face you when you eventually emerged from the bedroom. 

That moment finally came about an hour later when the door opened and you walked out carrying his old duffle bag. You strode past him to the front door, opened it wide, and threw the duffle bag out onto the porch before turning back towards him. In a calm, level voice, you said, “Here’s enough stuff to last you for the week. See if Javy or Bradley can help you get the rest of your things this weekend but until then I better not see you in this house.”

As you walked back towards the kitchen, he reached out to grab your arm but you jerked it away. “Sweethear–”

“No, Jake. You knew the rules since our first date.” You had turned back to face him, trapping Jake between you and the still-open front door. “I have never said a word about your cockiness, or your asshole behavior towards others, or your need to always be in control. I accepted the fact you would be gone for months at a time on deployments or missions with little to no contact. And I never once said a word about how late you stay out with your friends or how often they have to carry your drunk ass home. But the one thing I have said from the very beginning is that if you ever cheat on me, we are done. Period.”

“I was drunk. I didn’t–”

“I don’t care. That’s not an excuse and you know it. Now, get out of my house.”

“Our house.”

“My house,” you said firmly yet still void of any emotion. “You gave up the right to it when you climbed into some other woman’s bed.” 

Jake retreated into himself a bit at that. “I said, I screwed up. It was one time and it was the worst mistake of my life. I’m not asking for you to be okay with this, but please let’s just talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You broke your vows which shows how little our marriage means to you. So, we are done. End of story.” And as if to accentuate your point, you turned your back to him.

Now Jake was getting mad. Yes, he messed up, in a way that was potentially inexcusable, but you weren’t being reasonable or giving him a chance to explain. He had been blackout drunk. There was no way he would have ever done something like that when he was sober and you knew that. Yet you were standing there with your stone-cold gaze and your calm, unemotional tone demanding he leave. Maybe you were the one showing how little this marriage meant if you couldn’t even be bothered to react to this information. If you could shut off your emotions and feelings for him so quickly, maybe they weren’t that strong to begin with.

And while you might be willing to chuck him to the curb without a second thought, there was someone else who would be devastated if he were forced to move out. 

“What about Ellie?” he demanded. “You can’t keep me away from my daughter.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

“Just watch me,” you hissed as you whirled around and jammed your finger harshly into his chest. The cold indifference you had been showing up to this point was gone and your words dripped with a venomous fury.  “It was taking everything in me to remain calm just long enough to watch your sorry ass walk out that door, but how dare you bring her into this! Not when you didn’t give her a second thought before destroying her family.” 

The veil had lifted from your eyes and Jake cowered back as he was met with the full force of your maternal outrage. “Do you know she begged me to let her stay up for you last night because you promised you’d be home, but I made her go to bed because I knew the truth. That you’d rather go out drinking than come home to tuck your daughter in after not seeing her for two weeks. Your four-year-old daughter who thinks her daddy hung the moon. If only she knew who you really were. But I am going to make sure you can’t shatter her heart like you just shattered mine. Now… Get. Out.” 

As you took another step forward, your finger still firmly on his chest, he stumbled back over the threshold of the front door. He might have caught himself if he hadn’t tripped on the duffle bag you had tossed out moments before. He landed hard on his ass, barely able to soften the fall by throwing his hands out behind him.

He gazed up at you from his awkward heap on the ground as you stood framed in the doorway. For just a second, it wasn’t anger nor indifference Jake saw staring back at him. It was pain. A level of pain and betrayal he had never seen in another person, as if your entire body would shatter if touched with even the slightest of breezes. And it was only then that Jake truly realized how royally he had fucked up.

But then the veil fell over your face once more. In that same indifferent tone, you said, “Don’t you dare come back.” Then you shut the door and he heard the deadbolt slide shut.

Today was Thursday. Thursday meant you needed to take the trash out to the road. It meant Ellie had her appointment at the dentist’s to get her teeth cleaned. It meant the ads changed at the store and that fancy ice cream you loved might finally be on sale.

Today was Thursday. Thursday meant this was the third morning you had woken up alone after your so-called “love of your life” had admitted to the ultimate betrayal and you had thrown him out. 

You were used to waking up alone. He was gone so often for work, it seemed like you were alone more than together. But this felt different. Usually, there was that faint aura of fear for his safety mixed with the excitement of counting down the days until he came home. But now, there was only the constant ache in your chest where your heart used to be and the throbbing pain in your head from trying to hold back your tears.

Because it hurt. Oh god, did it hurt. But you didn’t have the luxury of falling apart or feeling sorry for yourself because you weren’t the only other person mixed up in this situation. The one saving grace you were holding on to was that on Monday when everything had gone down, Ellie was with your mom on their weekly playdate. You had no idea what you would have done if she had been there or returned just afterward. How could you have explained why her dad only came home for less than two hours before leaving again, this time with an armful of stuff? Or why you were sobbing in a heap in the middle of the hall? 

But her temporary absence didn’t make her return home and immediate questions about where Daddy was any easier. Thankfully, your mom noticed the tears that sprung to your eyes and how your lip instantly began to quiver so she ushered Ellie upstairs to her room as quickly as she could. Then once she had gotten her to lay down for her afternoon nap, she came back down and held you as you told her everything and fell apart in her arms. You knew your parents never really liked your husband, but you doubted even they would have predicted he would do something like this. Then again… maybe they would have.

He was a jackass, through and through. You knew that from the moment you laid eyes on him in a bar just after you graduated college. And yet, he could also be sweet and charming and thoughtful. And he loved you, even now you didn’t doubt that. But he also loved to drink and party and flirt like he was still 24 and single. You just thought he loved you and Ellie more than that but you guess you were wrong. He loved himself more than he loved his family and now you would never let yourself forget that.

About an hour after you had thrown him out, he had tried calling you over and over and over and over. Each time you sent him to voicemail, he left a long, heartfelt message full of love, plans for change, and pleas for forgiveness. And once he finished recording his message, he would immediately call again and repeat the cycle trying to get through to you.

You blocked his number after the seventh call—one for every year the two of you had been together.

Since then, there had been nothing. You had expected a call or at least a text from some of the Daggers, but it had been radio silence from them. By now, most of them had to know what happened but if they did, they made no effort to reach out and see if you and Ellie were alright. There hadn’t even been an attempt to get you to change your mind and take him back. 

That was until this afternoon.

As you were scrolling through reviews of divorce lawyers while Ellie napped upstairs, you noticed a familiar jeep pull up outside out of the corner of your eye and you froze. You expected Javy to come by this weekend to help pack up the rest of the stuff that needed to go, but that was still a few days away. You planned on taking Ellie and going to the park and lunch so you both weren’t at the house when they came so this was not part of your plan. 

As you saw Javy climbing out, you put your laptop down and hurried over to the front door. You reached it just as you heard footsteps coming up the porch steps. Pressing your cheek against the door, you hollered, “I told him not to come back until the weekend.”

“It’s just me,” Javy’s muffled voice came through the wood. “I promise, I just want to talk and see how you’re doing.”

You leaned heavily against the door as you mulled over what to do. You hadn’t seen anyone but Javy get out of the jeep and while he was your husband’s best friend, the two of you were also close enough that you couldn’t imagine him trying to help anyone sneak into the house against your wishes. So, taking a deep breath, you slid the chain off the door and opened it.

Javy tried to step forward but you shook your head and stepped outside, closing the door behind you. “Ellie’s asleep upstairs and I don’t want to wake her. Whatever you have to say, you can say out here.”

“Fair enough.”Javy took a few steps back to give you a little more space, stopping just on the edge of the porch near the steps. Shifting slightly from foot to foot, he rubbed the back of his neck as he muttered, “I’m sorry about what happened. I still can’t believe it—any of it. You two always seemed so solid.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Yeah, we were…. when we were together. But that’s the problem. When I’m not there to hold his leash and remind him he’s already taken, he goes wild. But you already know that, don’t you?” Javy began to squirm even more under your gaze. You scoffed, “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Taking a few steps forward to shorten the distance between you, you said, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to answer me with 100% honesty, no matter how much the answer might hurt me. Do you understand?” Javy slowly nodded, his eyes locked firmly onto yours. “Has he done this before?”

Javy vigorously shook his head. “No, never, I swear. And you know he would tell me if it did.”

“But he’s tried to, hasn’t he? He mentioned something about you guys ‘usually stopping him’ which sure sounds like he would have done this a long time ago if he hadn’t had his friends there for him. But then that makes me wonder, how far has he gone before he was stopped? Has he ever kissed another woman? Gotten to second base? Third?”

“No! He didn’t…I mean, h-he…,” Javy sighed in defeat as he hung his head. Without looking at you, he mumbled, “As far as I know, he never made it that far.”

You nodded softly to yourself as you processed this information. Then you hauled back and punched Javy in the face. 

While you weren’t particularly strong, the Naval pilot stumbled back, tripping down the porch steps as he clutched his nose. He looked back up at you, shock and confusion filling his watery eyes. Out of all of the Daggers, Javy knew you the best and had even developed a close friendship with you. Because of that, he was also the only one who knew there was a fierce, unshakable side to you behind your usual laissez-faire, pushover housewife facade. But you bet not even he would have expected you to punch someone, let alone him. 

Yet that was just the start of your fury. Shaking out the pain in your hand, you screamed, “You should have told me! I could have eventually gotten over his drunk ass kissing a girl or two, maybe even going a little further. Yeah, it would have hurt like hell and we would have needed time, but we could have gotten past it. Got counseling or–or help or I don’t know! But now he’s gone and ruined everything and you could have done something to stop it!”

Javy tried to explain. “I know. I’m sorry, I tried. But you know how he gets. I thought it was all just harmless flirting. I never imagined he’d go this far. I thought about telling you a hundred times, but I was just trying to protect my friend.”

“And what about me? I thought I was your friend too. Or you know what, screw that! How about protecting your goddaughter, hm?” You pointed at the house where you knew Ellie was up in her room fast asleep and oblivious to the drama raging outside. “That little girl in there who is now asking me every day where her daddy is and when he’s coming home. Who’s protecting her when I have to finally figure out some form of the truth she’ll understand and she… and she hates me because of it.” 

Your voice broke on the last part but you swallowed your tears and kept going. “How do I tell her I’m the one not letting him come home when I can’t tell her why not? How do I break my baby’s heart all because he…he—” All the fight went out of you as quickly as it had appeared. With a loud wail, you crumpled to your knees and buried your face in your hands as sobs wracked your body.

It was the real reason you had been putting off telling Ellie that her dad wasn’t coming home. She adored Jake—was a complete daddy’s girl—and you knew this news was going to devastate and confuse her. Your daughter might be advanced for her age, but no four-year-old understands infidelity or cheating no matter how smart they are (and they shouldn’t). Which meant whatever you said would boil down to some form of “Mama won’t let him” and the thought of how that would destroy your relationship with the person you loved most in this world was unbearable. Your husband was the one who broke your family and yet you were going to be the one who was blamed. 

As you knelt there on the front porch of the home that was now just a reminder of all the plans and dreams that would never be, sobbing and snotting loudly for the whole neighborhood to see, a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and began to draw you in. You tried weakly to struggle against them, but it was a fruitless effort. Finally, you gave up and threw yourself fully into Javy’s embrace. You buried your face into his chest as his arms held you tight, his hand rubbing soothing circles across your trembling back. 

Through the sobs, you managed to choke out, “I-It just hurts so much, Javy. I don’t know how to keep myself from falling a-apart. Even thinking about him or saying his name is like a knife in my heart and every time, a little more of me gets cut out and replaced by more pain. I don’t even know what’s le-left.”

Javy pulled you in tighter, his face pressed against yours so as he whispered, his lips brushed against your ear. “I’m so sorry. I know it hurts, but I know you and you’re strong enough to get through this. And the rest of the Daggers and I will be right here beside you. It’ll be okay. I promise. ”

Maybe it was because it was coming from someone other than your parents, or because of the warm, trustworthy aura that always radiated from Javy, but for the first time in days, you actually believed that might be the case. You had been so afraid all of the Navy aviators would turn against you or take his side instead. It was a fear that had been nagging at the very back of your mind but you had been too afraid to really consider it. Since moving to California, you hadn’t really had a chance to make many friends outside of the Daggers and you didn’t know how to deal with any of this if you lost them too. But if what Javy said was true and they would stick beside you, maybe things weren’t as hopeless as they seemed.

Despite this revelation, it still took another ten or so minutes for you to stop crying. But when you did, you continued to lay curled up in Javy’s arms and mumbled, “I’m sorry I punched you. I know this isn’t your fault. I think I’ve just been looking for someone to hit since he told me and you were the first person I’ve really seen besides my parents and I wasn’t going to punch them.”

You felt Javy chuckle softly beneath you. “It’s okay. You got a mean right hook, but I did deserve it. I should have told you what he was doing a long time ago.” You flinched at yet another confirmation that your marriage had been broken for longer than you wanted to admit. “I just… I didn’t want to believe he would actually take things this far. I really thought he would stop himself even if no one was around to step in and do it for him.”

“I wasn’t blind when I chose to be with him. I knew his faults and I knew what I was agreeing to. That’s why I never once tried to change him or make him stop doing what he wanted. And in return, I asked for one fucking thing and he couldn’t give that to me. I just…. I don’t why I wasn’t enough for him.” You shook your head. “I don’t know. Maybe I was blind after all and I should have just thrown my drink in his face that first night we met and walked away.”

“Maybe you should have… but then you wouldn’t have Ellie and I know you wouldn’t trade her even if it meant avoiding this pain.”

You shook your head again as you buried your face in Javy’s neck. “You’re right. Our little girl is the one thing I don’t regret about our relationship and she makes all the rest of this worth it.”

“See? Just keep holding onto that, okay?” You nodded again as Javy gently took your shoulders and pushed you back so he could look at you at arm’s length. Then brushing the tears from your face, he said, “And I’ll be there to help you tell her about all of this. You didn’t do anything wrong here and you shouldn’t have to do that alone or take the blame for it. We’ll figure something out.”

“Thanks, Jav. And I know you’re still going to be his friend and help him through this.” Javy started to say something but you held up your hand to stop him. “No, it’s alright. He needs someone to lean on right now and it should be you. And I’m not asking you to choose sides. I don’t want you to feel like it’s either him or me and Ellie. You will always be welcome here if you want, along with the rest of the Daggers. But please, don’t try to talk me out of this. Don’t ask me to take him back.”

“No, don’t worry,” Javy promised. “I’m not gonna do that. Maybe someday, but not today. Not until he straightens out, works on himself, and becomes the man you girls deserve…the man I thought he was.”

“I guess we were both wrong about him.” Javy pulled you back into his arms and you closed your eyes.

Maybe Javy was right and he would eventually get help and become the person you and Ellie needed. Or maybe he would realize he liked the single life more than he ever liked being a family man. Or maybe he would just drink himself to death in a bar somewhere. Only time would tell.

But regardless of what he did, you knew you were going to be alright. It would suck for a very long time but eventually, you would find a way to start over again and make the life you wanted— even if it wasn’t the way you had always planned. 

Suddenly, the front door opened, and a very sleepy-looking face peered out from inside. You scampered out of Javy’s lap and onto your feet. As you hurried to her side, Ellie rubbed her eyes with one tiny fist as she looked up at you and you asked, “Hey, baby. Is everything okay?”

“I’m thirsty,” she mumbled. 

You scooped her up into your arms and balanced her one hip. “Okay, why don’t we get you a glass of water then you can finish your nap?”

She nodded, rubbing her eyes again. But then her little brow furrowed as she stared at you closer. Reaching out, she brushed her hand across your damp face as she asked, “Why are you crying, Mama? Did you get a boo-boo?”

Brushing the hair from her face, you said, “Yeah, baby. I got a boo-boo.”

Without hesitating, Ellie leaned forward and placed a big, exaggerated kiss on both of your cheeks. Then grinning proudly, she said, “There! I kissed it and made it all better!”

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes once more and you squeezed Ellie tightly in an enormous hug. “Thank you, El. You really do make it feel better.” 

You held her like that as long as you could, but once she began to squirm in your grasp, you loosened your grip on her so she was just once more lightly balanced on your hip. Booping her nose with your free hand, you asked, “How about instead of your nap, we get you that water and maybe if you ask nicely, Uncle Javy will play dress-up with you. What do you think?”

Her little face lit up with joy. “Yeah!” Turning to Javy, she asked, “Please, Uncle ‘Avy?”

Uncle “Avy” quickly shot you a look that you pretended to look innocent at before he smiled at Ellie. “Okay, but only if I can be the princess this time. It’s not fair I’m always stuck being the fairy.”

Ellie pouted slightly, but she gave a huge sigh and said, “I guess.”

Javy’s grin grew wider and he pumped his fist. “Sweet! Then let’s go! I’ll race you upstairs while your mom gets your drink.”

You put Ellie down as she tried wiggling out of your grasp and she hurried inside and up the stairs as fast as her little legs would carry her. As he followed behind her in a mock run, Javy squeezed your arm as he passed and gave you a quick smile. Then he disappeared inside after Ellie.

Watching them go, you took a deep breath as a wave of peace washed over you. Yes, you might not get the life you had been planning, but you could already start to see making a pretty good life out of what you still had. 

And with that, you followed your daughter and your friend inside and shut the door behind you. 

I have a potential idea for a Part 2 if anyone is interested (though it may not go the way you are expecting....)

Update, it looks like I'm going to start working on Part 2!

Taglist: @zebralover, @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae, @startrekfangirl2233, @memeorydotcom

[mymoodwriting]

Disconnected

Omega!Reader x Werewolf!NCT

Genre: A/B/O

Warning: Manipulation, Aggression, Kidnapping, Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Yelling, Biting, Fasting, Heat Cycles, Implied Smut, Revelations

Words: 3.2K

Chapter Three

(Prev//Next) (@peanutpinet @starillusion13)

Prompt: By removing the weakest link, werewolves were able to grow far more powerful than anyone could ever imagine. They lived in peace knowing they were top of the food chain. That is until a certain pack made an unbelievable discovery, causing them to question their past, present, and future. Omegas aren’t supposed to exist anymore, but they couldn’t deny the fact they had found one.

“Let’s go home for now.”

Jaehyun helped you to your feet, keeping you close as you began to walk back towards the house. Although you didn’t want to go with them, pulling yourself away from Jaehyun.

“I have to go find my master. They’re alive and-”

“No.” Yuta interrupted. “You come back to the house with us.”

“I don’t want to.” You stated. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me, but I have somewhere, someone, to go back to. I have no reason to stay with you anymore.”

“Y/n-”

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re not.” Yuta growled. “Grab her.”

All three of them rushed you, grabbing your flailing limbs and preventing you from running away. Yuta managed to get behind you, slipping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the ground. It made it easier for Haechan to grab your legs, and Jaehyun to get your arms pinned. All you could do now was squirm, but they all had a firm grip on you now. They carried you back to the house, taking you to your room and locking you in. You banged on the door, begging to be let out, but you heard them all walk away.

“What do we do?” Haechan asked. “She’s pissed.”

“Call Taeyong, tell him what happened.” Yuta ordered. “I don’t know what he wants to do.”

Haechan nodded his head and pulled out his phone, dialing Taeyong. The phone rang twice before he got an answer. 

“What happened!? Where’s y/n? Is she alright?”

“She’s fine.” Haechan assured. “But we have a problem.”

“What problem?”

“The mark on her chest was glowing again and she said her master is alive. She tried to leave but we brought her back to the house.”

“What! I’m heading back now, keep her there.”

“We will.”

It wasn’t long after you had run off that Taeyong noticed you had disappeared from the arena. He hadn’t thought much about it, but then three others were gone, and you were all gone for quite a long time. He tried not to think too much about it, but once receiving a call from Haechan he began rushing back home. A few others had seen Taeyong leave in a hurry, and followed as well. They couldn’t even ask what had happened since it was clear Taeyong had other things on his mind. When Taeyong got to the house he called out to Haechan and went over to him and the others.

“Where is she?”

“In her room.” Jaehyun said. “We locked her in there.”

“Alone!? You idiots!”

Taeyong ran over to your room, unlocking the door in a hurry and rushing inside. As he feared, the room was empty, and the window wide open. He rushed over to it and looked out to see a little wolf run into the forest.

“After her!” Taeyong ordered. “All of you!”

There was only a moment of hesitation before everyone scrambled out of the house, following your scent into the forest. You had a head start, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t catch up. All those chasing after you made the decision to shift into their own wolf forms, bigger and faster than you. They caught up to you just as you reached the border of the territory, surrounding you and forcing you to heel. You looked around for a possible opening, but nine wolves had you surrounded. Running wasn’t an option anymore. One of the wolves shifted, Taeyong stepped towards you.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The anger in Taeyong’s voice made you uneasy, still you wanted to stand your ground. You shifted, intending to explain yourself.

“I’m leaving. My master is alive, and I must return to them.”

“I won’t allow that.”

“What? You don’t have any say in this, none of you do!” You yelled. “I’m grateful that you saved my life, but it’s time for me to leave. You all told me I could stay with you for as long as I wanted to, so I could figure things out for myself. Well I have, and I want to return to my master.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“What reason do you have to stop me? I-”

“You can’t return to your master, you belong here, with us.”

“Why? I don’t-”

“You’re an omega, not some familiar that-”

Taeyong stopped when you suddenly began to laugh. He was taken aback, as were the others, sharing glances among themselves. For some this was the first time they were hearing about this. It was yours too, but you found it amusing.

“I’m not an omega. I appreciate the sentiment of it but-”

“It’s true.” Taeyong growled. “And I’ll prove it to you.”

You were still laughing as Taeyong grabbed your arm and pulled you along over to the border. He grabbed your shoulders and made you face him. The look in his eyes intimidated you, making you stop your laughter. There was a certain scent coming off him, and it made you nervous. You tried to free yourself from his grip, but he held on tightly.

“Listen closely, little wolf. As your alpha, I order you to stay within the border of our territory. You are not allowed to leave, do you understand?”

You shakily nodded your head. Taeyong let out a low growl and dragged you over to a big tree, shoving you to the ground. You cautiously looked up at him, and your gaze followed him as he knelt down to your level.

“If you step beyond this tree, you’ll be outside our territory and can run along back to your supposed master. So, if you can actually disobey me, then you’re free to go. I won’t stop you.”

You slowly pulled your gaze away from Taeyong, staring at the forest ahead. Just past this tree you’d be outside the territory and could go find your master. It’s what you wanted, yet something deep inside you prevented you from moving. You desperately wanted to go, but you were frozen in place. As the realization hit you tears began to slide down your face.

“It’s not true.” You sobbed. “It’s not…”

“You’re a werewolf, an omega, and you’re part of my pack now. As your alpha, you can’t disobey me. This is the final piece of proof.”  Taeyong reached over to pet you. “There’s no reason-”

“I’m not stupid!” You screamed, slapping Taeyong’s hand away. “You think I don’t know what your kind did to omegas!? That you massacred them, your own people, in the name of strength and power! Why the hell would I want to be an omega!? Let alone yours! You’re all monsters!”

Taeyong had only gotten more upset as you yelled. Although none of your words were going to change his mind. He grabbed your arm and yanked you to your feet, dragging you all the way back to the house as you screamed and cried. Eventually he had enough and roared at you to shut up which of course you complied. You continued to sob quietly.

“You are not allowed to leave this house.” Taeyong growled at you. “Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded your head, and as soon as Taeyong let you go you ran to your room and shut the door. You went to the bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror, tears running down your face. A shaky hand reached up to the sigil on your chest, making your heart ache.

“I want to go home…”

♥♥♥♥♥

Since you were trapped in that house you decided to keep to yourself. You stayed in your room, not talking to anyone. You didn’t like sleeping on the bed, or anywhere in the room given that you’d be seen as soon as the door was open. Instead you dragged a blanket into the bathtub and stayed in there. You remained in your wolf form, curled up in the tub. There was a knock at the door when food was brought over. It was a tray left on the floor by the door. You’d usually get up and have a bite or two before returning to the tub. Although eventually you lost your appetite and stopped eating. This of course wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“Taeyong.”

“Hm?”

“She’s not eating. It’s been two days already.”

“Is she being rebellious now?”

Taeyong left his office and made his way to your room. He didn’t see you anywhere, and began to suspect you had escaped somehow, but then he heard a whimper. He found you curled up in the bathtub. You seemed to be asleep, and he noticed the tear stains on your fur. He sighed and reached over to pet you, getting one stroke in before you woke up and bit his hand. Taeyong yelled and fell back, throwing a glare your way.

“I see you still have energy. Shift.”

You growled for a moment before complying, staying in the tub. You lowered your gaze, not wanting to look at anyone. Taeyong got closer and grabbed your chin, forcing you to make eye contact.

“You look like shit. Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Liar. You need to eat, so enough of this fasting bullshit. If you don’t eat, I’ll make you.”

“I see why you killed your people… omegas are so weak and pathetic…”

“I didn’t kill any omegas. My ancestors did.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Don’t skip meals.”

You were left alone, shifting again, but you did as you were told. You ate, just enough to satisfy you, but kept to yourself. You weren’t sure there was anyway for you to escape, and so the days just dragged by. One day though, things got bad. You started to feel warm, thinking you were sick. You removed the blanket from the tub and hoped the cold would help you, but it didn’t do much. The fever only seemed to be getting worse, and your body was starting to ache. You had no idea what was wrong with you and were starting to tremble. Even if you wanted to scream for help, your voice was weak. You didn’t know if any of them would notice your state of distress, but you weren’t gonna hold onto hope.

♥♥♥♥♥

“Taeyong, she’s not eating again.”

“Seriously?”

“She didn’t touch her breakfast.” Renjun explained. “And it sounds like she has been in the shower all morning.”

“She’s still misbehaving.”

“Can you blame her?”

“I’ll check on her.”

Taeyong went to your room, knocking before stepping in. He could hear the shower running, but the door was open. He made his way over to the bathroom, finding you curled up in the tub in your human form, shaking and whimpering.

“Y/n!”

Taeyong rushed over and turned off the shower, wiping the water off your face. Despite all the water, he could feel that your skin was hot, and now that the showerhead was off he could get a good whiff of your scent.

“… he… help… help me… please…”

Taeyong grabbed a towel, drying you off and getting you out of the tub. He laid down another towel on the bed and set you down, getting you out of your wet clothes. You kept whimpering and asking for help, but Taeyong was trying to ignore that. He had left the door open, so some of the others that had been passing by noticed the situation and came into the room. A bit of a crowd had gathered and it was becoming fairly obvious.

“What are we supposed to do?” Jungwoo asked. “She’s in heat again… but it’s more intense this time.”

“She’ll be fine.” Taeyong said. “She just needs rest.”

“We can’t leave her like this.” Doyoung remarked. “She’s clearly in pain and needs help.”

“She’s been here for days now.” Jaehyun said. “We need to take responsibility for her. I know she’s pissed but still. You said she’s part of the pack, and we’ve all been awful.”

“I know…” Taeyong admitted. “She’s the priority right now. We’ll talk more later.”

♥♥♥♥♥

Ever since that fever had started, it was hard to focus on anything but the ache you were feeling. Your memories were all fractured, but there were small things you recalled. You remembered Taeyong getting you out of the bathtub and drying you off. There were a bunch of scents mixing around, hands on your body. Everything still hurt, but there was some relief among the pain. When you opened your eyes, having regained your senses, you found that you were still in your room. Although you weren’t alone.

Many of the others were scattered around your room in various states of undress. You yourself were in an oversized shirt and panties. Everyone seemed to be asleep, so you carefully got out of bed and creeped around the bodies. It was difficult as you felt sore all over, but you made it out of the room. You thought everyone was asleep, but you heard some commotion coming from the dining room. You carefully made your way over, following the smell of food. You creeped along the hall, using the wall to keep you standing. You thought you’d go unnoticed, but one of the younger ones stepped into the hall and saw you.

“Oh… morning… I didn’t think you’d be up yet…”

“What happened…”

“You were in heat, so the hyungs took care of you.”

“I… I was in heat?”

“That’s what they said.” Sungchan nodded. “Are you okay?”

“I think… I feel sore…”

“Maybe some food will help you. I’ll get you some pants.”

“Thanks.”

Sungchan got you some joggers, and the two of you made it to the dining table. The others that were around greeted you, happy to see you out of your room. It had been a few days since the whole omega thing came to light. Everyone had been informed of your situation, and had been worried about last night, but seeing you up assured them you were alright. It was getting late into the morning, and no one from the room had gotten up yet.

“Are… are the others okay?”

“They’re really tired.” Chenle answered. “They took care of you all night.”

“All night…”

“You look sad.” Hendery mentioned. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t you think that’s a dumb question. I’m stuck here”

“We know, it’s just… we’re all worried about you.”

“Why?”

“You’re right.” Mark said. “Omegas don’t exist anymore, yet you’re here. Not only that, you were under the impression that you were an ordinary wolf, living as a familiar to a witch. All that raises a lot of concerns, don’t you think? I doubt your supposed master was oblivious to the truth about what you really are.”

“I’m not the only one…”

“Huh?”

“Other witches also have wolves as familiars.”

Things grew quiet as you said that, everyone having the same thoughts at once, just as you were. Although the silence was cut short by someone clearing their throat. You all looked over to see Taeyong and a few others making their way into the room, greeting everyone.

“Y/n.”

You whimpered. “Yes, alpha…”

“You need to be examined after last night.”

“Okay…”

You excused yourself from the table and followed Taeyong to another room. Kun looked you over, asking how you were feeling. You were fine, and just behaved yourself.

“Well, everything checks out. You seem to be fine, and you’re not pregnant.”

“What!”

“Excuse me?” Taeyong questioned.

“According to the books, it says omegas are very fertile during heat, and there’s a very high chance they get pregnant during that time.”

“Oh.”

“What’s heat…?” You mumbled.

“It’s a state omegas go into for breeding purposes.” Kun explained. “It usually happens once every three months. Although it was more intense this time.”

“Sorry…”

“It’s natural for you, so there’s no reason to apologize.”

“Still… I guess I should also thank you…”

“You’re alright now, that’s what matters most.” Taeyong said. “Also, y/n.”

“Yes, alpha…”

“Please don’t stay locked up in your room anymore.”

“Okay…”

After the examination you were excused. You didn’t want to go back to the dining room, so you went back to your room. By then everyone was gone. The first thing you decided to do was take a shower, wanting to clean up and refresh. The same went for your room. You opened a window and gathered up the bedsheets, going off to find the washer and dryer. Since you had been camping out in the bathroom there were a few things to clean. It kept you busy, and gave you something to do.

You still kept to yourself, and remained silent for the most part, but you wouldn’t isolate yourself in your room anymore. Everything was so messed up. You were a prisoner in this house, but no one really hated you. They cared about you and your well being, but even with all that there were so many questions. It was hard to deny what you really were, and you couldn’t quite understand why this pack cared so much. You were more of a stranger than one of them, yet they were persistent in keeping you here and away from your master.

“Taeyong… I mean, alpha…”

“Hm?”

“Is it possible I could go outside for some fresh air…”

It had been a while since you set foot outside the house. You knew you couldn’t do so on your own, but you figured you could give it a shot and ask Taeyong. You went to his office, and thankfully he agreed, but of course he’d accompany you. The two of you went out on a walk in the forest. At first it was quiet, but you did want to ask something.

“Tae- alpha… why won’t you let me go? I don’t belong with a pack…”

“That’s not true. Omegas are werewolves and part of the pack, even if it hasn’t been that way for a long time.” Taeyong took a breath. “I also need to know what is going on. Books only have so much information on omegas, and I overheard you at the dining table before. Other witches have wolves as familiars, which is concerning.”

“You think they’re all omegas too?”

“The possibility doesn’t put me at ease.”

“So… what are you going to do with me?”

“I’m not gonna hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.”

“I know I need to apologize for-”

Taeyong’s words were cut short as you suddenly collapsed to the ground, seizing. He was quickly at your side, trying to figure out what to do to help, and then he noticed the sigil on your chest glowing. It wasn’t a good sign. He tried to pick you up, intending to get you back to the house when you suddenly grabbed his arm.

“… my… my master… found me… they… they’re coming…”

“What? That-”

Before Taeyong could finish he was blinded by a white light. He felt your body disappeared, and feared you had been magically teleported away, but instead he was left with something unexpected. A tiny wolf cub laid on the ground curled up, fast asleep. By scent alone Taeyong knew it was you, but he didn’t understand why this had happened. Yet he couldn’t dwell on it too long, picking you up and getting back to the house. He needed to warn his pack.

[theboywithburninghands]

Next chapter is a go! This is definitely a little more OC heavy than the others, but I figured some of the peripheral characters needed developing as well. Also I did a lot of research on rehabilitation for this one, just a fun fact I suppose. @fernstarsblog Enjoy!

T/W: Era-appropriate sexism, drugs and alcohol, addiction and withdrawals, implied vomit

Primum Peccatum Ch. 12: I Need a Doctor, Call Me a Doctor

Jax Krolik paced back and forth across The Rooker Estate’s sitting room. He had finished his last bottle of laudanum last night, overdoing it to calm himself down after the miserable dinner with his family. He told Pomni he would try to go easier on the opium that night, but that was a lie. He’d grown so accustomed to it that he needed a substantial amount of opium to get him anywhere close to relaxed anymore. Even with a few extra drops of poppy, his dreams involved his father, monstrous and veiled in shadow, kicking down the door to the Rooker Estate and dragging him out of the house by the ankle to goodness knows where. So here he stood, guilty, paranoid and restless. He needed more opium.

The restlessness that came first from opium withdrawal was unbearable. A faint, burning sensation throughout the body more aggravating than the thirstiest mosquito’s bite, with no way to itch it apart from more laudanum. He felt like he could jump off the pier, swim the half-mile to Blackshell Bay, and bribe the hospital for a bottle of the stuff right now. They would hardly miss it, he needed it more. Not even the entire bottle, just a few drops. Two at the most. Just enough to tide him over until Kali arrived. Where was she anyway?! He felt very much like peeling his own skin off.

“Mr. Krolik, would you like some beans on toast?” Kinger called from the other room.

“No thank you, Mr. Rooker,” Jax replied.

“You really must eat, my boy. Your wedding will be soon, you can’t be looking haggard for that.” Kinger called.

“Respectfully, I said no thank you, Mr. Rooker.” Jax called back, his tone more rigid.

“Dear me. Perhaps a cup of tea?”

Jax bit hard on the back of his hand to keep from shouting. He had no appetite, but he could get Mr. Rooker to stop badgering him if he accepted one of his offers.

“A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you. One sugar please.” Jax called out.

“Splendid!” Kinger declared. There came the sound of crockery from the kitchen, and Jax heard the stove being lit. There was a sharp knock at the door, Jax’s ears pricking up.

“Oh, one moment!” Kinger waved out his match and flicked it into a flower pot three quarters full with spent matches. “Goodness, it’s been ages since I’ve had a visitor…”

He walked into the foyer, Jax peering out from the sitting room doorway. Kinger unlocked his front door.

“Oh, Miss Shutnyk! Good to see you, how long has it been?” Kinger cried. Jax swiftly ducked back into the sitting room.

“Hello, Mr. Kinger. Have you met Kali Krolik?”

Jax paused mid-stride and peeked his head back into the foyer.

“I don’t believe I have!” Kinger exclaimed. “What a pleasure it is to see Pomni making new friends.”

“Er, Mr. Rooker, we have met already. It was just a few days ago…” Kali said,

Jax managed his usual smile and approached the two women from behind Kinger.

“Well, if it isn’t my lovely fiancée and charming sister-in-law. What brings you here? Surely not myself.” Jax said. That sounded rakish enough, certainly…

“Hello, Jax. Yes, we did come to speak to you, as a matter of fact. Mr. Kinger, may we come in, please?” Pomni asked, her hands behind her back.

“Of course, always! I just put the kettle on, let me add some more water. Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs. Shutnyk?” Kinger asked.

“That would be very gracious of you, sir. Would you like a tea cake to go with that?” Kali offered her basket.

“Ahhhh, these are just like the kind my late wife used to make. What did you use as a filling? Boysenberry?” Kinger asked, picking up and examining a cake.

“Raspberry, although my father-in-law’s caretaker Zuzanna is the one that makes them. They’re an old Edicaran recipe.” Kali explained with a smile.

“Ediacara? Well, błogosław ma duszę! Nie byłem tam od lat, so my vernacular may be a bit spotty.” Kinger said. “I visited Ediacara ages ago with my Queenie, we went to see Czerwona Pustynia before they restricted foreign access.”

Pomni and Kali exchanged incredulous looks before looking back at Kinger.

“Mr. Kinger, I don’t believe you’ve ever informed me that you’ve been to Ediacara.” Pomni said, awestruck.

“Ah, I must have over the years, haven’t I? I went there when you were still a twinkle in your father’s eye. We were studying the insects there. Did you know that there’s a-”

Jax cleared his throat rather loudly. “Terribly sorry for the interruption, but may I speak with my sister-in-law? We have some personal matters to discuss…”

Kali glanced at Pomni, who nodded. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“Jax. I will no longer bring you any more laudanum. You’ve grown dependent on it and I’m worried for your health.”

Jax’s yellow eyes widened. He put a trembling paw to his mouth.

“What…? Kali… Y-You shouldn’t speak of such things in front of-” Jax began.

“I’m already privy to the situation, Mr. Krolik. As for Mr. Kinger, he’s been gracious enough to open his guest wing to you.” Pomni replied.

Pomni turned to Kinger, who looked on in bewildered concern.

“Kinger, my fiancé has struggled for almost five years now with inebriety. You see, his brother-”

“Ms. Shutnyk! I would prefer you didn’t divulge my personal information!” Jax interjected.

“I’m afraid I must,” Pomni replied coolly. “If we are going to free you from the shackles of this vice, only our parents and Boone need be left in the dark. We must inform Altonicus so you may obtain the proper medication as well.”

“Absolutely not! I refuse to allow that! Alton can’t know that I’ve been… He mustn’t find out…” Jax’s anger tapered off.

“Kali, why don’t you discuss this with Jax? Alton is your husband, after all. I will inform Mr. Kinger of our dilemma in finer detail.”

Pomni took the basket of pastries from Kali and turned back to Kinger, smiling. “That cup of tea sounds quite pleasant, Mr. Kinger. Shall we move into your kitchen?”

“Yes my dear, of course. I am alarmed, but rather intrigued…” Kinger said, leading her into his kitchen.

Kali coughed a bit from the musty air. Jax sat himself on the staircase and placed his head in his paws.

“I’m sorry, Jax… I suppose this secret had to come out sooner or later.” Kali said with a fake smile.

“I have a headache,” Jax replied.

“Well, I’ve known your older brother for ten years… and I’ve never met a kinder man. Alton will understand, won’t he..?” Kali asked.

“How should I know?” Jax answered tersely.

Kali sniffled and covered her mouth, looking off towards the front door.

“I’m sorry… I had no idea the rut I was digging us into when I gave you that tincture… How was I supposed to know one or two doses were enough to addict you? I-I just wanted you to be able to get some rest… I’m sorry…”

Jax closed his eyes. He felt a headache throb to the rhythm of his heartbeat behind his right eye. He had begun sweating. He needed opium, or his symptoms would worsen into full-body sickness. He desperately needed opium.

“I… I hope Alton takes the news at least somewhat well… But it would not surprise me in the least if he’s furious.” Kali had begun pacing about the foyer. “It’s hardly unwarranted, after all; his wife pilfering opium from his own stores to feed the addiction she fostered in his youngest brother? For years, no less?! Ha, I would divorce me too! I… don’t deserve forgiveness, do I?”

Jax looked up at Kali.

“No, I deserve worse than divorce… I deserve time in prison. Maybe there I can make amends with myself, at least. The Allfather knows my soul has blackened enough from my misdeeds that I’ve no chance of seeing The Hereafter. I… I…”

Kali stifled a sob, only to feel a set of arms wrap around her torso. Jax put his chin on Kali’s shoulder.

“Kali. You’re my older sister. You’ve helped me through so much pain, long, long before I fell from that bridge. Even if the worst happens, you will always be my older sister. I love you…”

Kali burst into tears, turning and wrapping her arms around her younger brother’s shoulders. He hugged her equally as firmly, tears wicking off his eyelids.

—

About an hour later, Pomni had an entire plan formulated. The main objective of said plan was to hopefully completely eliminate Jax’s opium addiction. Even if that meant postponing the date of the wedding. Of course, there would be difficulties.

The first and most pressing was withdrawals. According to Pomni’s research, opium withdrawal typically involved symptoms including, but not limited to: hot and cold flashes, head and body aches, stomach distress, insomnia and anxiety. To mediate this, Pomni intended on recruiting Altonicus for help with the medical treatment, and she planned on helping with whatever else was needed.

The second difficulty was discretion. No one was to know about Jax’s struggles with withdrawal except for Pomni, Kinger, Kali and Alton. To everyone else, Jax had caught a vicious and persistent case of the flu. The most important individual to be kept out of the loop was Jax’s father. Given the man’s temper and draconian behavior, it wasn’t known what exactly would occur should he find out about the goings-on at The Rooker Estate. It was generally agreed that if he did become aware, some manner of contingency plan would be enacted, but Pomni was still in the process of formulating one. As a result, Boone, Osvaldo and Zuzanna were forbidden to know the truth as well due to their proximity to Drexl, along with Pomni’s parents.

The third difficulty was time. Jax needed time to completely recover, and the wedding was in two weeks. If they postponed the date too many times, suspicions would be aroused. As a result, Pomni thought it best to get started immediately. No more laudanum at all. That way his body would flush out everything faster. It would be excruciating, but it was a necessary evil, and Pomni was willing to help every step of the way. She had grown somewhat fond of the rabbit, after all…

—

Kali returned to Blackshell Bay in the late afternoon. She had thought about going to confession to speak to Sister Ragatha one last time, but that was largely an excuse to prolong the inevitable. Altonicus would come looking for her if she dawdled too long, especially if he arrived home from work and she wasn’t there. The man could look after himself, of course, but he would worry, like any good husband should.

She arrived home around 4:00, made a quick salad for dinner, which she didn’t touch, and sat in their living room with a tumbler of bourbon, no ice. She sat and waited. The glass sat warm in her paw. She took not one sip.

At 6:30, Alton arrived home. Kali poured her drink out of the window and made a new one, pouring Alton a bourbon with ice and a bit of cold water, just how he liked it. She would take care of this as calmly as she could. Get him fed and relaxed with dinner and a drink, and then explain everything. No one wanted to hear bad news as soon as they walked in the door, after all.

“Kali, darling?” Alton called. No matter how tired or irritated he was from work, he was always happy to see her.

Kali came around the corner with his drink, managing a smile. Altonicus sat on the floor, removing his shoes and socks. He wriggled his pink toes and sighed with relief, even with his custom made loafers they were still too tight around his wide and flat rabbit feet. He looked up at Kali and smiled, only for it to fall right off his face.

“Kali..? What’s wrong dear?” he asked, climbing to his feet.

He saw right through it. Kali had no chance. She immediately broke into fresh sobs, setting the drink on the side table to keep from spilling it. Alton was over at her side in an instant, hugging her close to him and petting her ears.

“Darling… oh my goodness, what’s wrong? Talk to me…” he crooned.

They went to the sitting room and she told him everything. Down to the last detail, even up to that day. Alton remained silent throughout her whole explanation, only nodding occasionally or putting his hands to his mouth in contemplation. By the end, Kali’s tears had dried, but she kept her gaze firmly on the floor. She felt filthy and unlovable.

“I know that what I’ve done is horrid… but I felt I had no choice… He was in such agony and he was just a boy. None of it was his fault in the slightest..! I understand if I’ve killed all the trust in our relationship, but all these years I’ve been too frightened to tell anyone for fear of that… beast you call a father finding out and enacting his wrath on you, or me, or Jax. If you don’t love me any longer, I’ll-”

“Kali,” Altonicus interrupted. “Don’t speak such foolishness. You are the sun in my sky. I don’t hate you even a little bit. But, that said-”

Alton’s expression became severe. “Shame on you! Giving opium to a teenager? You’re lucky he’s only come away with an addiction, he could have overdosed! And you hid this for years?! Why didn’t you think to speak with me, am I truly so untrustworthy?!?”

Kali buried her face in her hands, Alton sitting up straighter at this.

“B-But you’ve been reprimanding yourself every day for your mistakes. I wouldn’t be doing any good shouting at you.”

Alton got to his feet and knelt beside Kali.

“You did the wrong thing. But you did it out of mercy, not sin. And thankfully, there’s time to fix it. Of course I still love you. I love you so, so much, my sweet little rabbit.”

He kissed her deeply and she melted into his embrace. Though tears ran from her eyes, they were of joy and relief.

“I suppose we’ll go and visit tomorrow, it’s a little late to catch the ferry. I’ll have to notify the hospital I won’t be attending. When was the last time Jax had a dose of laudanum?”

“Yesterday evening…” Kali wiped her eyes.

“Come again? It’s been almost 24 hours? And he’s had none since then?! Allfather above, Kali!”

Altonicus shot to his feet and ran into the hallway, picking up his doctor’s bag. “What time is it?”

“Erm… 6:56?”

“Blazes… we may still be able to catch the ferry if we run. Forget my shoes, let’s get going!” Altonicus said.

Kali put a hand on his shoulder. “Darling, wait! What is the matter?”

“I’m dreadfully sorry, but there isn’t time to chat, follow me!”

“Alton, I-”

—

The two of them found themselves on Blackshell Bay’s pier.

“-don’t know if- Wh… I… H-How did we get here?” Kali looked around, absolutely flummoxed.

“I… I don’t recall either. Perhaps we blacked out from running… I didn’t know that was possible… Regardless. Let’s purchase some passes. Time is of the essence.

—

Altonicus rapped on the door to The Rooker Estate. He perused his medicines on the ferry ride to the island, making sure he had everything he needed. Through some miracle, he did, despite rushing them both out of the house. He must have forgotten he packed them like how he had forgotten the run to the pier.

The door opened, revealing a shapeman resembling the king piece on a chessboard.

“Well hello, strangers!” he said, his voice jolly. “I’m afraid you’ve come ‘round at an inopportune time. A boarder of mine has become quite ill.”

“That’s precisely why I’m here, sir. I’m Dr. Altonicus Krolik. My youngest brother Jax is the one who’s fallen ill. May I please enter? I’d like to assist.”

Kali fought a smile despite herself. It was always quite amusing hearing her husband use his “doctor voice.” So very serious.

Kinger allowed them into the manor, Alton glancing around at the clutter before turning following him up the stairs towards the guest wing of the house.

“I should warn you, it is rather… aromatic in that room.” Kinger warned.

“That’s par for the course in my line of work, Mr. Rooker. But the warning is appreciated.” Alton said.

Kinger nodded, opening the door to the guest room. Alton stepped inside and immediately understood what Kinger meant. He was hit with a heavy, acrid stench, the unmistakable smell of someone having vomited. Kali let out a short exhalation and covered her mouth and nose.

The guest room was rather paltry in terms of decoration, only a red threadbare rug over the wooden floor. The furniture in the room consisted of a writing desk, piled high with papers of all description, on the left wall, a chest of drawers on the right wall, a bookshelf on the wall opposite the door, and a bed in the top left corner on a plain pinewood frame with white sheets, a single pillow and a gray woolen blanket. A curtainless window stood unopened beside the chest of drawers. Beside the door hung a small clock, the pendulum making a light “tap-top” sound with each swing.

Pomni Shutnyk sat beside the bed, having drawn up the desk chair and taken a book to read from the shelf. Said book appeared to be the most recent issue of a literary journal, and she dog-eared her page and set it down on the desk. She appeared to have put something under her nose. Liniment ointment, more than likely, to fight off the odor. In the bed lay Jax, draped in the blanket up to his chin and trembling severely. He sucked in breaths through chattering teeth, his eyes wide and wet, and stared thousand of miles away. His fur was damp with perspiration as were the sheets and pillow he laid on. Beside the bed lay a large mop pail, presumably for him to be sick into.

“Dr. Krolik. Thank goodness. I’m glad you could make the journey. I assume Kali has told you everything?” Pomni asked.

“I am up to speed. But is it true Jax has had no opium in almost 24 hours?” Alton moved over to the side of the bed, sitting in the desk chair and opening his bag.

“Yes, hence his current state.,.” Pomni said.

Altonicus pulled on some gloves and removed a number of vials, a few syringes and bandages, a thermometer and one tincture bottle of laudanum from his bag. He placed the thermometer under Jax’s tongue with feeble resistance, the glass clinking rapidly in his quaking jaw. He unscrewed the cap of the laudanum and filled the dropper about halfway up with the brown medicine. Pomni let out a soft gasp.

“Dr. Krolik, please don’t tell me you’re giving him opium..! The whole point of this ordeal is to-”

“With all due respect, I am a doctor, Ms. Shutnyk. I understand and appreciate that you’re well read, but I’m afraid your plan here is a might misguided.” Alton replied sternly. He placed the dropper back in the bottle and turned to his shuddering sibling, kneeling at his side and adopting a soothing tone of voice. “Jax? It’s me, it’s your eldest brother Altonicus. Are you with us, Jax?”

Jax flicked his eyes to Alton, but said nothing, appearing to look straight through him. Alton sighed a bit, taking out the thermometer.

“103.6. We need to lower that temperature posthaste. How many drops of laudanum does he normally take?” He asked anyone in the room.

Pomni spoke up. “I’ve seen him take two, but I find it quite imprudent to be giving-”

“Pomni. Again, I say this with the utmost respect. Hush.”

Alton’s deadly serious tone made Pomni close her mouth immediately.

He withdrew the dropper from the tincture bottle and gently tilted up Jax’s chin, opening his mouth. He placed a single drop of laudanum on Jax’s tongue, then ever so slightly pinched the rubber bladder of the dropper, pushing out a small bead of tincture on the end of the glass tube. He placed the bead onto Jax’s tongue and then replaced the dropper in the bottle, getting to his feet with a grunt of effort.

“I understand your goal, Ms. Shutnyk. The strategy you’ve adopted is known colloquially as ‘quitting cold turkey.’ Unfortunately, the complete cessation of a habit-forming narcotic is extremely dangerous. With some medications, halting the use of them completely can result in fits, or even death.”

“Death?” Pomni echoed.

“Now, opium withdrawal normally does not result in death, but, if we try the ‘cold turkey’ strategy, we run the risk of Jax violently relapsing from both cravings and to make the agony of withdrawal stop. And THAT could kill him.” Alton said.

Jax had gradually begun to stop trembling, lucidity somewhat returning to his eyes.

“A lightning cure…” Kinger said. “I suppose rabbitfolk do have a faster metabolism after all…”

“What I would recommend for addiction is a process called ‘tapering.’ There, we gradually reduce the dosage size of laudanum until he does not need it anymore. It is a much smoother and safer alternative, although it’s still quite unpleasant. You saw I gave him just one and a half drops instead of two? We’ll continue to reduce it over the next few days.”

“But… that will take longer, will there be enough time before the wedding?” Pomni asked.

“I’m not certain. Most likely, no, given how severe his dependency has become.” Alton said gravely. “But, I am willing to help you create a believable façade. I agree that my father needn’t know about any of this, or he’ll complicate things further.”

He knelt back down beside Jax. “Brother, what do you need? Are you back with us?”

Jax swallowed, shivered deeply and looked at Alton.

“…I’m quite cold.” he whispered.

Alton nodded, rising. “Very well. Then here is what must happen, everyone. Mr. Rooker, do you have spare sheets for this bed?”

“Hmm… I believe I do, yes. I’ll have to search for them.” Kinger said. “Or… have I thrown them away…?”

“Regardless, we need to strip the clothes from this bed and launder them. We will use whatever spares we have to keep Jax warm and dry while we do.” Alton turned to Kali. “Kali, I need you to get Jax into clean and dry clothes. I would do it, but I have to prepare his medicine. This isn’t too invasive for you, is it, dear?”

Kali shrugged. “I’m willing to do anything it takes to help. I am the reason he’s in this state anyway, aren’t I?”

“Nonsense,” Alton soothed. “But we shall discuss that later. Ms. Shutnyk, I assume from the bucket and the odor that Jax has been sick?”

“You are correct. Three times. I’ve rinsed the bucket each time.” Pomni replied.

“Then I’m entrusting you to perform general upkeep. Make sure Jax is hydrated and feed him when he can keep food down. If his cravings flare up, try and talk him through it if you can, although we can all help with that.”

“Feed him…?” Pomni echoed again. She was a dreadful cook. Zooble told her once that she could have patented “flammable water,” if such an invention weren’t utterly pointless.

“Remember that we’re rabbits, Ms. Shutnyk. Vegetables should suit him just fine.” Alton said with a smile. “Although I don’t believe he’ll want to eat anything tonight after all the distress he’s already been through. Very well, let’s get started. Mr. Rooker, you wouldn’t happen to have a telegraph, would you?”

“I believe so! I hope it still works…” Kinger said.

“I’ll have to send a telegram to the hospital tomorrow to let them know I’ll be unavailable… medicine first and foremost, though.” Alton said. He began to prepare some syringes.

Kali helped Jax to his feet. His nightshirt was damp with sweat and he took tiny, shuffling steps to walk. He held a hand to his head and groaned.

“I’m… sorry, Jax. I thought I was doing the right thing by having you stop entirely.” Pomni admitted, looking at the floor.

“…How long… How long have you been sat there looking after me..?” Jax mumbled.

“Since you laid down around one this afternoon. So…” she checked the clock. “Six and a half hours or so.”

Jax looked at Pomni blearily. For a moment or two he stared, but then he gained his familiar Cheshire grin.

“You’ve certainly grown to care for me in a short timespan, haven’t you?” he drawled.

Pomni felt herself blush. Why that insolent little…!

The grin slid from Jax’s face as he pressed his hand to his temple again, groaning.

“Come along, you rascal, I’ll help you into something dry so you can rest again.” Kali said, although she also wore an unmistakable smile.

The two of them slowly made their way into the washroom. Pomni shook her head, rolled her eyes and felt the corners of her mouth point upwards.

“Honestly…” she muttered. She went to fetch the largest glass she could find to fill with water. It would take a good amount of self-restraint to not tip the contents over his head.

[excelsi-or]

summoned (epilogue: pt. 16)

pairing: woozi x fem!reader/fem!OC

w.c. 1.8k (just a little fluff to end of this series)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

EPILOGUE

The evening of the end of the world, the angels and demons drop the humans off at Hansol’s apartment.

As soon as Seungkwan sees them, he says, “That’s it. We’re having a dinner party.”

She doesn’t have the energy to argue. She even takes the beer that Hansol offers.

That sets Seungkwan off even more, and the storm turns into a whirlwind.

“Seokmin and Jihoon can’t come.”

“They can’t? Why not? You and Jihoon have been tied at the hip since we met him.”

“Uh…” She meets Hansol’s eye as he returns from his bedroom with a change of clothes. “How much do we share?”

Seungkwan cuts Hansol off before he can even open his mouth. “You smell like smoke, your dress is burnt, Hansol is ravenous and not eating leftovers. Something’s happened. Do I need to add that the sky was bright red? I was about to try to get home to my family because I thought that the world was ending. But now, all of a sudden, it’s fine.”

Hansol takes her by the shoulders and guides her towards the bathroom. “You go shower. I’ll deal with Seungkwan until everyone comes over. Gives you time to decide if you want to share.” 

“You’re honestly the best. The best best friend ever.”

Hansol clucks his tongue. “You’re welcome, Antichrist. Go shower.”

As she’s about to close the door, she tells him she isn’t the Antichrist anymore.

“How can you suddenly just not be it anymore?”

She shrugs. “My mom explained it, like, since the world didn’t end with me as it was supposed to, there’ll be another Antichrist.”

“So, now you’re just… you’re just human?”

She nods.

“And your parents?”

“Well, for foiling the Great Plan or whatever they call it, no go. Dad doesn’t get his soul back. Mom didn’t really have hope anyway.” There’s a quiver in her voice that Hansol hasn’t heard in a while.

“Oh.” Hansol pushes his way into the bathroom to wrap his arms around her. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” He pretends as if he can’t feel the tears against his neck. He isn’t quite sure what it means that they don’t get their souls back. He’s still baffled that his best friend was, but is no longer, the Antichrist.

When she pulls away, he can’t tell that she’d been crying. “They have human lives to live, and I get to keep my soul. Apparently, that’s worth it to them.”

“Have you told them about your demon boyfriend?”

“Jihoon said he’s going home,” she says. “Nothing here to entertain him anymore.”

“Hansol-ah! I need you to peel the vegetables!” Seungkwan calls.

A few days after the end of the world, with Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s wedding to now plan for (they heard it could’ve been the end of the world and decided they were getting married ASAP), she isn’t expecting to walk up to her apartment door and not have a door to open.

Annoyed, she pats the wall in the general area where her doorknob should be.

“If this demon also fucking locked my door, he’s being kicked out,” she mutters as her hand finds the knob.

Luckily for the demon, it’s unlocked.

From her doorway, she can see him stretched out on her couch in sweatpants and his favourite red hoodie, a book hovering over his head.

“You said you were going home.”

The book lowers slightly so he can see her, unfazed by her lack of greeting. “I did.”

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Hanging out.”

“Okay, but where’s the human who summoned you?”

“There isn’t one.” Jihoon sets the book down: The Alchemist. Definitely not hers. “I just came to see you.”

This causes her to pause. “Me.”

Jihoon shrugs. “Earth’s a little more interesting right now. Seokmin’s right. More fun when there’s less plague and more technology. The food’s a little weird, and art seems to have gone to shit, but—”

She chuckles as she drops her things by the door and sits on the couch next to him. “You can just say you missed me. How long are you staying?”

“Your whole life, actually.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” Jihoon stretches his legs out for the coffee table. “Seokmin and I may have played some tricks. And I may be the coolest demon in existence this millennium.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a holy water bath and didn’t die. Freaked the other demons out. Satan’s not punishing me for messing with the Antichrist. I’m yours for now.”

“You’re telling me that you’re going to stay with me for the rest of my life. How am I going to get married and have a family?”

“I thought me saying I was staying for the rest of your life was essentially me asking you to marry me.”

It feels as if those words smack her right in the face. The anxious person in her starts panicking at M-A-R-R-I-A-G-E. A few minutes of reeling her brain back from panic helps her see that Jihoon’s just offering what demons think is human commitment. 

“It sounds like you’re intending to be a nuisance,” she finally says.

“I also forgot to mention I’m not really a demon anymore.”

“I didn’t know that was something you could just give back.” The anxiety is fighting with excitement. Because Jihoon is saying all the right words. 

So, she gets up to make tea just to keep her hands busy. And so she doesn’t have to sit so close to Jihoon.

She’s been so used to knowing everything and being one step ahead. Now, that she really is just a human, she’s realizing that the unexpected is extremely uncomfortable.

Jihoon trails after her. “So, maybe I made some deals with the Devil to be here. But nothing that you need to be concerned about.”

She squints at him. “What exactly are you proposing?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “That I stay here. With you. Live your life with you.”

“I want children one day.”

Jihoon shrugs. “That can be arranged.”

“With a partner.”

He motions down his body. “I’ve arranged that already.”

“By assuming that I’d agree to this.”

Jihoon tips his head, his eyes flicking from cat-like and back again. “Do you not want this?”

She rests her hip against the counter, processing her feelings. “You’re telling me that you want to be my life partner. Are willing to have children. But have you considered that I’ll get old and age? You’re not going to leave me for naught?”

“If you gave me your soul in exchange for not getting old, that could be arranged.”

“Absolutely not. I’m human. And I intend to stay that way.”

This makes Jihoon smile. “And that’s why I’m staying. Because you’re human.”

“You hate humans.”

“I like you. And maybe Hansol. Your other friends are tolerable.”

She holds her hand up in the air between them.

“What?”

She nods her head at her hand.

Frowning, he lifts his hand to mirror her.

“Oh, you stupid—” She crosses the kitchen to press her palm against his, notices that he’s warm but not burning. “I can touch you.” Her fingers settle between the spaces between his. “Why can I touch you?”

“Are you not listening to me?” he chuckles. That would normally be annoying, but he now finds her incredibly endearing. It helps that she’s definitely not the Antichrist. “I told you I made deals with the devil.” Jihoon’s eyes don’t leave hers as he kisses the back of her hand. “So, what are you thinking, human?”

“That you still haven’t answered the question about what happens when I age.” She notices his confused expression. “Jihoon.” The use of his chosen human name causes him to warm even more; she can feel it in his hand. “As good-hearted as your intentions might be, and having grown up with a demon for a mother, I can’t grow attached to you knowing you’ll disappear when you realize I’m not what you want anymore.”

“I’ve been human before,” he whispers. Her eyes widen slightly at the admission. She doesn’t personally know any demons that were once human. Her mother says they exist, but most of the ones she’s met have been fallen angels.

Her mind is whirring at what that’s meant for the life he’s lived. And makes her want to analyze every decision he’s made in her presence.

But Jihoon doesn’t give her much time to process it. They have a lifetime together for her to learn that. “I know what the stakes are by offering you this.”

“And you still want to stay? I thought we were only in agreement that we please each other well.”

“And I enjoy your company. More than anyone else—human, demon, or angel—that I’ve met.”

“Even when I can’t please you physically anymore,” she states.

Jihoon studies her face, can picture the way it’ll age, has deliberated heavily about whether he can watch her die. “I have a feeling that you’ll find other ways to be entertaining.”

She scoffs in disbelief, charmed and also scared.

“I may also be aware of the fact that Seokmin is intending to stick around for your lifetime. Your friends’ as well. I won’t be lonely.”

“He knows you’re staying.”

“He knew I was considering it. He told me that I’m the only one who can make the decision. And that you’d have to accept me anyway for it to be real.”

“Couples fight.”

“We’ve butt heads quite a lot in the time we’ve known each other.”

“I’m pretty physically intimate.”

“Good. I like that.” 

She wonders what else she could say that would make Jihoon re-evaluate. “I’m really insecure.”

Jihoon’s eyes flicker. “I can deal with that.”

“You’ll be expected to come to Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s wedding then.”

The corners of his mouth downturn slightly, but he agrees to that too.

Before leaning into him, as he seems to desperately want her to do, she says, “As soon as you even think about double crossing me, or mess with my mind even slightly, you’re gone, okay?” She elaborates further. “I need to trust that you’re with me, because you like me. Not because I can be manipulated because I’m human and touch you well.”

Jihoon chuckles and nods. “Got it, human.” He doesn’t tell her that as soon as she tells him to leave, his contract is over, and he’s gone. Maybe one day, but not right now.

“Now, will you please kiss me and stop worrying about a future that’s still so far away?”

“In your lifetime, it’s nothing,” she reminds him.

Jihoon shrugs. “Sure, but for you, it’s long.”

She rolls her eyes. He’s the one who closes the distance between them, one hand slipping under her shirt to rest on the skin of her hip. It’s a pleasant warmth.

“I��m happy for you to stay,” she says as his lips brush hers. “Even if I didn’t summon you this time.”

Jihoon laughs, pecking her lips again and again. “It would actually be a more difficult existence for both of us if you had.”

There’re fluttering nerves in her stomach that some of his words have calmed but not all. And he’s unlikely able to soothe every fear she has about this, but she asks anyway. “Is it okay if we go slow?”

“What do you mean?”

His thumb rubbing back and forth on her hip is distracting. She rests a hand over his to stop him. “Slow. To get used to this. I brought you here with different intentions. I fell for you by accident. Everything that’s happened afterwards is not something I’ve had time to process.” Her gaze glances at him and then away. “Is that okay?”

Jihoon hums, not used to her bashfulness. “Hey.”

She meets his gaze.

“I get to be human for a little while because of you. Whatever you want.”

“Really?”

Jihoon nods. “I’m a reasonable demon, as you know.”

“You were a pain in my ass when I summoned you.”

“I can be a reasonable pain in the ass.”

She sighs. “Okay.” She pulls him closer. “I’m in.”

hello!!! another story down.

this story is very conflicting for me. i was so excited about it when i was writing it and editing it. and then while i was posting it, something about it wasn't speaking to me anymore.

don't get me wrong. i love how this story turned out. but i wrote the first draft of this, i think, almost two years ago now. i'm a different person, a different writer, and a different reader too.

so, i think my unattachment to it is because it doesn't fully represent me as a writer anymore.

but for everyone who's read this/will read this, i hope you enjoyed it! i hope you're around when i return, because i will be going on a proper hiatus probably until the summer next year. need to write more stories (some original projects & some fanfic). i'll pop back in and out when i feel like it, but for now, this is farewell!!

if you wanna follow my creative journey (not just my woozi fanfics), i'm an-artthief on Tumblr too. posting some updates on a few original works i'm working on and reblogging some art and things that i enjoy. :)

happy holidays everyone! and if i don't post again before the end of the year, happy 2024 too! xx

[tired-hq]

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭.

spencer reid x gn!reader

‼ swearing, angst, crying, feelings of worthlessness, hatred of mirrors, fluff towards the end ‼

" i have no idea who i am anymore " you feels lost and you don’t know how to get out of the black hole of sadness that’s consuming you.

Sadness could feel like a small, empty room yet it could also feel like being in the middle of the ocean while in a storm. That’s what you hated most about feeling like this. Or maybe it was because no matter how many people were around you, you felt utterly alone. Sadness was one of the most powerful human emotions, it could kill you or bring you to the brink of insanity. 

Here you are, thinking about your sadness which is causing you to be even sadder. Guess it is true what they say, with knowledge there is sadness. The only person who’s realized your saddened state was your fiance, Dr. Spencer Reid. So many women wanted him. You felt extremely lucky when he asked you to marry him, so why were you so sad? Maybe, it was because he was somebody and you were nobody? Or could it have been that you’ve had a sudden realization of self-hatred? It had been weeks since you have been able to look at yourself in the mirror without breaking down or feeling nothing but disgust. While Spencer is gone you cover the mirrors with blankets and sheets, when he comes home you try my best to avoid them.

Sitting in the window, you hear the front door unlock.

“Hey, honey” His voice echos as he calls out for you, however you don’t answer. Your voice is much too hoarse to reply at all.

He turns on the lights as you were once sitting in the dark. 

“Sweetheart..? Are you alright?” You can hear his footsteps approaching you.

You nod in response, hoping he would drop the subject at hand.

“..No, you aren’t” He answers his own question from my body movements.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of your head. An empty wine glasses clinks the window pane as you fiddle with it in your palms. Spencer’s sigh makes you feel like you’ve disappointed him, you knew that wasn’t his intention. however, it still made you feel guilty. 

“I only had one glass this time..” You reply to his sigh.

“Drinking won’t help” He told me.

"I know..but it’s better than cutting myself..” The last part comes out of your mouth so quickly that it takes you a minute to process what you said, you weren't thinking...or were you?

His eyes fill with so much concern, “What?”

“...That’s where I am at this point..” You mumble under your breath so he could just barely hear me.

“I’m sorry...” Spencer’s head hung low.

“Not your fault” You look over to him.

“I should’ve been here more..I-” Spencer stops as you cut him off.

“It’s nothing you did, okay love?!” You try your best to convince him.

“Then what is it?”

“I-I...I have no idea who I am anymore..!” You burst out, sobbing.

“And it sc-scares me so bad, because h-how am I supposed to be the person you love if i don’t know who i am!”

“I fell in love with the person you were, the person you are, and the person you’re going to be...I’ll love you through small, empty rooms and stormy oceans. Because you, Y/n Reid, are who I love with my entire soul and body. I love you with all of my entirety, you may not be perfect...neither am I. We can be imperfect together, to me your flaws are outstanding. I asked you for your hand in marriage because you make me feel like no other.”

There it was, the trigger. Next thing you know you're balling your eyes out. But he was there, he held you in his arms, he loved you even if you didn’t know who you is...

-𝙧𝙤𝙧𝙮 ☆!