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angel5ofp0rn · 2 days

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pt. 7 😋

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

*still bad at writing smut. jus pretend i wrote something good… also im sorry!!!!

DIDNT REREAD AT ALLLL JUST STARTED TYPING SO PLZ BE PATIENT 🥺

You’re already awake when John's eyes finally begin to blink open, his first sight being the back of your head.

You’re fidgeting with his wedding band again, gently tracing your thumb over the engraving as you hold his left hand that’s slung over you.

"Mornin’..." He mumbles once he finally stops blinking, his eyes slowly coming into focus again as he realizes that you're awake. He sees you toying with his wedding band, which makes him smile as he watches.

“Hey there.” You smile, finally removing your hand from his.

You turn to lie on your back so you can see him better.

The regret of letting him stay after ruining your date had started to set in… but the memory of what the two of you did last night helped blur the lines.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask quietly. John’s eyes are studying your face with a lazy smile on his lips.

“God, y’r so beautiful.” John whispers, eyes locked on yours.

Your cheeks flush pink, though you have no idea why he still has that effect on you.

Your hands move to your face, covering your blushing cheeks with a laugh.

John laughs too, prying your hands away from your face. “Just lemme look at you, lovey. I can’t get enough.”

John manages to remove your hands and pin them above your head with one hand while his other hand cupped your face, turning you towards him. He presses kisses from your temple down to your jaw, then to your neck.

You squirm under him when his lips move back up and get close to yours; you turn your face away from him.

“Is something wrong..?”

“Morning breath.” You mumble. John chuckles, turning you back to your side and pulling you close by your hips.

“We can work aroun’ it.” He murmurs in your ear, his hardness pressing against your ass. You can’t help but to giggle when John starts to dry hump you like a horny teenager. It’s fun for you to see him like this recently; it’s like he’s been trying to make up for lost time.

Though your giggles quickly turn into a gasp when the head of his thick cock pushes your lips apart, slowly pushing in. John’s big arms are wrapped around you in a bear hug as he thrusts into your still sore cunt.

A strong hand grips your thigh, lifting your leg so he can get a better angle. A deeper fuck.

You can’t do much but moan and whimper as John takes what he wants— not that you’re not enjoying it.

“That’s right, lovey, that’s it-” John talks you through your climax, but not slowing down on your behalf. His grunts and your moans fill the room; your eyes roll back when John finally does come… You whine a bit when he begins to pull out, which makes him laugh softly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I miss you when you pull you.” You pout. “Can’t we just nap with it in?”

John snorts.

You look up at him when he finally sits up and stretches.

“Staying for breakfast..?”

John looks relieved when you ask him to stay.

“Making breakfast.” He grins before he leans down and finally steals a kiss despite your morning breath warning. “Lemme get the kids up.”

You watch as John stands up and pulls on a pair of joggers before heading out to the hall. He’s clearly comfortable being back in his old house.

Your eyes widen when you see the evidence of last night; red scratch marks over his back, bite marks on his shoulders.

You quickly pull on John’s boxers from the floor and a hoodie from the hamper, and follow after him with his t-shirt in hand.

John freezes for a moment as he feels your hands pull the shirt over his head. He looks back at you with a questioning look.

"What're you doing?" He says this with a confused look on his face as he raises an eyebrow.

"Marked you up pretty good." You blush, rubbing his back gently after his shirt is on. You give his butt a pat and heard towards your youngest’s bedroom.

“She still a grump in the mornings?” John asks.

“Not when her daddy’s home.” You shrug.

Home.

•••

“You’ve gotta let her go at some point.”

John looks up at you in the doorway from where he’s sat on your youngest’s toddler bed. It was practically a chair for him due to his stature.

“Right…” John looks back down to your youngest who, sleepy after her bath, is fast asleep in his lap. Her damp hair is combed out of her face and her cheek is pressed right up against John’s chest

“I just, eh… I’ve missed a lot of her life, haven’t I?”

“She’s still little.” You reassure him. “There’s still time.”

John stands up slowly and is gentle when laying her back on the little bed. He pulls the covers up to her chin and pressed a kiss to her head.

After John joined you in the doorway, he crosses his arms as he swallows back a small lump in his throat, thinking about the years that had passed and the time he lost with his kids and you.

Only seeing you two days a week just wasn’t enough.

You rub John's arm gently. He's normally not a very affectionate or emotional man, but he has a soft spot when it comes to his family.

John looks at you with watery eyes.

"You big softie." You tease, knowing he's really anything but.

"Alright." John rolls his eyes at you and grins as the two of you make your way back to the bedroom.

John sits at the edge of the bed and you sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You could tell the guilt was eating at John, for missing out on the kids first few years.

“You’re a great dad, John.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. “You know that, right?”

John sighs.

“You are.” You smile softly, one arm now around his neck and the other hand on his chest. “I wouldn’t choose anyone else to have babies with.”

John chuckles at that. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” You nod. “I’d still have 98 more with you.”

John's eyes shift up to meet yours once you say that.

He raises an eyebrow at first as he takes a moment to process that... but then, he eventually laughs. "You’re crazy…" His smirk widens a bit, and he moves his thumb along your jawline now.

"What if we have another?" You practically whisper.

"You’re not serious…” John shakes his head slowly.

“I think it’d be wrong not to.” You fake a little pout. “Have you seen our babies? They’re gorgeous.”

“You want to keep having babies with me, is that it? More mini-me’s running around?”

“I do.” You nod, you face moving closer to his. You smile when your lips meet, just barely brushing against each other.

John smiles back. "Well, I'm not gonna deny you..." His grin widens a little now as he stands, you in his arms.

He tosses you gently onto the bed.

You grab the front of his shirt and pull him into you.

•••

After a few hours, the two of you had moved from the bed to the floor, the bathroom counter, and now you are in the kitchen having a water break.

The two of you, sweaty, out of breath, and exhausted, look at each other grinning ear to ear as you sip your waters.

You’re stood across from John with a robe on and your legs crossed, as a precaution.

John has just his boxers on as he finishes his water and looks at you, leaning back against the kitchen island.

"Feeling a little uncomfortable, love?" He says this as he notices the little way that you're standing, and then he gives a smirk.

"Forgot how messy it is." You confess with flushed cheeks.

John hums in acknowledgment and pulls you into his arms, kissing you softly; a nice change of pace.

He lets the kiss hold for a bit longer than a usual peck before finally letting go and gently squeezing your rear as he pulls away.

"You need anything from me right now lovey?" He asks with a soft look.

"I want you to move back in."

John pauses for a bit after you make this request. He stays quiet as he blinks, looking surprised as he hears this.

"Really?" He asks, wanting to make sure he heard you correctly.

Part of him thought that he'd have to beg for this.

"If you were serious about wanting us to do this again, then I want to do it for real. You're moving back in to our house, we're sleeping back in our bed, and we're being a family again."

“You mean that?” John asks cautiously.

You nod. “But I’m keeping our no fighting rule. You have to communicate with me, John.”

“Anything, love. I’ll do anything you ask.”

Your smile grows at how eager he is to get back together. “You’re stuck with me now, Johnathan Price.”

John just laughs, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you into a another kiss.

Your arms are draped around his neck when you’re set back on your feet.

“I’ve missed this.” You admit quietly.

“I’ve missed you.” John counters. His smile suddenly falters a bit when he speaks again. “But we should really talk about it more, figure it all out before we rush into it.” He runs his hand over his beard.

"We can talk it over tomorrow..." You slowly undo your robe, keeping your eyes on him.

John watches you undress slowly, his eyes glued to your every movement. He continues looking at you throughout the whole process.

Once the robe hits the floor, John lets out a soft groan and looks you over.

You hook your fingers into his waistband, pulling his hips closer to you.

John smirks as you pull him closer to you, and he lets himself get pulled in willingly. His hands move to your ass, giving it a squeeze.

"Again? What're you doin' to me, lovey..."

•••

You look up from brushing your teeth and notice John waiting in the doorway of the washroom.

“Missed me that much?” You tease. “I thought you’d be asleep by now…”

John shakes his head, looking just as wrecked as you felt. “Wanna talk to you first.”

You glance at him again, noticing his suddenly stoic expression.

“Sure,” You nod, following him into the bedroom. The two of you sit at the edge of the bed, next to each other. You instantly get a sick feeling in your stomach by seeing how anxious John looks.

He sighs, closing his eyes tightly as he gathers up the courage to just say it.

"There's something I didn't tell you, that night…" John hesitates before continuing, the silence between the two of you becoming deafening.

He remains silent for a moment longer, trying to find the perfect way to word this to you.

You don't speak.

You think back to the fight that lead to you wanting a divorce.

His job had kept him away for months at a time, that's what started it.

You felt like every time he came back, he was more and more distant. Then you found a plane ticket back to London.

You accused him of cheating, and he couldn't prove you wrong.

John's voice gets quiet as he takes another deep breath.

"That night... I didn't cheat on you. I did keep something from you, but not because of that.” He opens his eyes and looks at you for just a second before he goes back to looking down at the floor.

“Then what was it?” Your voice was strained as you tried to coax the truth out of him. "Just tell me what it was so we can try to move past it.”

“I have a… I have a child. A son, back in London.”

You froze.

Your stomach sank.

You couldn’t even speak.

John sits quietly and waits for you to say something, anything.

"How old?" You ask softly, your eyes closed as you try to focus on your "no fighting" rule.

"He's ten..." He hesitates again, unsure of just what else to add.

You let out a shaky breath. Ten. He’s older than your oldest, meaning that he wasn’t a result of John cheating on you...

You finally open your eyes , ready to look at him.

"Why... Why wouldn't you tell me that you had a child from before we met?"

John sighs again, not expecting you to be this levelheaded about things. He was expecting something much different from this.

“I was afraid.” John admits. He pauses to look away briefly before continuing. "I… I just kept trying to find the right time, the right way to say it to you..."

"...were you with his mother when we met?"

The question catches him off guard, you could see it on his face.

"Yes... I was..."

"I'm gonna be sick." You get off of the bed and stand up.

John immediately stands as well, watching you as you stand and start to walk away from him.

"Wait-" He quickly grabs your arm to stop you, unsure if you're going to the bathroom to be sick or just not look at him anymore.

You pull your arm from his grasp

"You were with her and had a child with her and yet you still took me home from the bar that night? You still fucked me the next day?"

“…yes.” He sighs, still avoiding eye contact. His voice drops to almost a whisper.

"And then you... would say you were at work and instead visited them? Were you still fucking her?!” You tried not to raise your voice, more for the sake of the children than for John.

John tries his best to not get angry, but he's fighting back a lot of emotions now, primarily frustration with himself. He stays quiet for a few long moments, unsure of what to say. He rubs his eyes and then speaks again, trying to find the right words.

“…no, I wasn’t fucking her. I haven’t cheated on you, I want that to be clear.”

"I'm having a hard time believing you." You admit bitterly, crossing your arms. “You and I were divorced for two years; you came back for one night and we’ve been fucking ever since.”

“Wasn’t like that with her.” John insists with a curt shake of his head.

"Why didn't you just tell me the night we met? Or the next morning?"

He stays silent again as he thinks about that very question. He takes in a long breath and then finally answers, his voice still a bit quiet.

"I didn't think you would have given me a chance if you knew the truth..." John says softly, starting to feel some resentment towards himself start to build up.

"The truth being that you had a girlfriend and a baby back home, and were fully planning on cheating on her."

John remains silent.

He didn't know how to argue with that.

He knew it was true. He knew he was being selfish at the time, but he just couldn't let you go after that night. He couldn't explain it.

"Or was she your wife? Fuck, I feel like I don't know anything about you!" Your voice cracks as the tears start forming.

John can hear how hurt you are in your voice, and he hates seeing you like this. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew that you wouldn’t let him.

Not when it was his fault that you were like this.

"Six years, John. You've had six years to tell me about this." You keep your arms crossed tightly, trying to stop the angry jitters.

John doesn’t speak.

"How often do you see them?" You ask suddenly, your breath shaky.

"Not often," John answers earnestly. He rubs his face as he tries to continue.

"I only see them once a month, maybe... Every few months, at least. I just go over to spend time with my son..." His words get a little stuck in his throat, feeling the guilt eat away at him like a virus.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"About a month ago..." John says softly, his voice sounding just a little bit sad as he mentions how long it's been since he's seen his son.

Your eyes widen.

He had to have just come back from seeing them when he came to shovel the driveway.

John notices how your eyes widen at what you just heard. He immediately looks down, feeling even more shame wash over him.

"You... You're-" You rub your eyes, feeling like I'm about to lose it on him.

John keeps quiet, waiting for the worst to come from this.

If you want to yell at him, if you want to throw things, hit him, kick him out again, he wouldn't blame you at all for any of it.

He'd take it all on the chin if it meant that he could get the opportunity to fix things.

Instead, you just cry.

Sobbing, shaking.

John has had a secret family for the last eight years and kept it a secret from you for the entire six years you’ve known each other.

Your children have a sibling they've never met, but their dad spends time with pretty often.

You’re gutted.

John's reaction to your crying is instant. He pulls you into his arms, wanting to comfort you as you cry.

He knows that nothing he could say right now could make your pain go away, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he still tries his best.

"...I'm sorry, lovey… I’m so sorry," He whispers. He tries to think of anything else to say, but that's all he can say, all he has right now.

John rubs your back as he holds you close to him, still trying to wrap his mind around everything.

John feels your grip around him tighten as you continue to cry, and he squeezes you tight too, not wanting to let go. Just letting you cry against his chest, rubbing your back lightly as he continues trying to process all that just happened.

John rests his chin on your head, his voice raspy when he finally speaks again.

“That night we met… I left your flat knowing that I had to leave her for you; it was love at first sight. I needed to be yours, love. I needed you to be mine.”

You finally pull out of his embrace.

You wipe your tears off of your face and try to steady your shaky breathing.

"You should... You should sleep on the couch."

John watches as you pull away from him.

He's speechless.

He was expecting more... For you to kick him out all together, to tell him to go back to his own place...

But instead you're just calmly telling him where he should sleep.

John nods slowly. He doesn’t fight. He walks downstairs without another word.

You don't even want to be in your bed, where John and you have been sleeping together.

Instead you quietly go into your youngest’s bedroom and scoop her up, carrying her into your oldest’s bedroom and crawling in beside him in his twin bed, holding both of your children close.

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lees-chaotic-brain · 2 days

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So happy for your 300 followers! For your event, can I please request Nanami. The song is Mine by The Chainsmokers. Genre, maybe keep it cute and fluffy, domestic romance?

WC: 4.1k (holy shit i have no idea how that happened)

CW: reader is called a girl once, angst to fluff, lovers to strangers to lovers, marriage proposal, a ton of sappy dialogue, light swearing, if the readers emotions make no sense because they're all over the place it's because reader is me coded (as always lmao)

a/n: hi vee tysm!!! this somehow became not very cute and fluffy, but i hope the ending makes up for it :') special shout out to @not-enough-homestuck-upinthis @hcdwigs @valentiraa + @yeshnn for help with headcannons for teenage nanami!!!

listen to this while reading

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

You had known Nanami since before your days at Jujutsu Tech, your friendship spanning all the way back to middle school when you moved in next door. In high school, the two of you dated, falling deeply in love only for your relationship to end suddenly with the death of Haibara.

One day you were dating your best friend who you knew better than you knew yourself. You knew that he was a bit of a dork who had My Chemical Romance paraphernalia hidden around his room.

You knew that he was shy, and that he placed so much importance on doing the right thing. You knew that when he was thirteen he wanted to learn to play the stylophone and electric guitar so he could start his own band. That he unironically spoke in an old fashioned manner for a few months because he wanted to be “proper.”

You knew that he always brought extra pens in case you forgot yours; his favorite type of bread, and why he loved it so much. You knew that blue was his favorite color because it reminded him of the ocean, that he wanted to go to Malaysia so he can experience true peace without the chaos of the jujutsu world around him.

You knew everything about him, from the bigger aspects to the small quirks that made him him, then you didn’t. After Haibara’s death the boy you knew and loved just…disappeared. He withdrew into himself, stopped talking to you, didn’t show up for your date, unresponsive when you reached out to him. Then after graduation, he just left. He didn’t break up with you, didn’t even say goodbye. He left a note informing you that he was leaving the jujutsu world, and that was it.

So when you bumped into him outside the gates of Jujutsu Tech, to say you were surprised was an understatement. Honestly, you had given up hope of meeting him again a long time ago, resigning yourself to remain in this weird limbo where you had no closure but no means of getting it either.

But there he was, completely different from the man you used to know. The lankiness of his teenage day had long been outgrown, replaced instead with sheer muscle and power. His long hair had been cut neatly into a practical style that was low maintenance and kept it out of his face. His shyness had morphed into reserved stoicism.

Locking eyes with him, the two of you stared in silence for some time, neither sure where to even begin speaking. All you knew was you felt like you were looking at a stranger. Not the boy you had once loved.

I look at you and you look at me Like nothing but strangers now

Despite both of you being so different, falling back in love with Nanami Kento was so simple, like slipping into the familiar warmth of a well used hoodie, because you had never truly fallen out of love with him.

It had only been weeks since you had seen him again outside of the school gates, but you were already back to the way you had been a decade ago; young and in love. It was like nothing had ever happened. Like the past ten years never happened.

The two of you left work together every night and walked over to the food stall you visited every day in high school for dinner. You checked in on each other before and after missions, made sure the other was drinking enough water and taking care of themselves. It wasn’t until Shoko pulled you aside and mentioned it that you realized you had never actually addressed the slight awkwardness in your relationship due to his leaving.

And maybe it was stupid, or selfish, but you didn’t want to talk about it with him. You had missed him so much you just wanted to enjoy spending time with him now that he was back. Your hearts seemed to be the same as they were then, young and burning with the force of your love, so why would you do anything that could potentially jeopardize that? Was it really so bad that you didn’t want to risk extinguishing the passion that seemed to still exist?

Two kids with their hearts on fire Don't let it burn us out

Eventually you realized how much you needed to have the conversation with him. You couldn’t pretend that nothing had happened. For the last ten years you had lived in a weird existence in which he hadn’t broken up with you, so you were technically still together, but he had abandoned you without even a proper goodbye.

Now he was back and the two of you had fallen back into your old relationship without addressing the massive elephant in the room. Up until now you had convinced yourself that you were fine with that, the only thing that mattered was that he had returned. But as the weeks went by you began to realize that you were lying to yourself.

Of course you weren’t okay with what happened. You were angry. You wanted answers. How dare he just disappear one day, then waltz back into your life one random day almost a decade later?! Amping yourself up, you gather the courage to bring up the topic you had spent so much time and energy avoiding.

Which brought you to your current predicament, sitting across from him as you ate dinner together, hyping yourself up for the conversation ahead of you. Clearing your throat awkwardly, you got his attention, setting your chopsticks down in your bowl.

“Listen, I know we’ve both been trying to avoid this conversation, but I’ve been thinking about it lately and I realized some things.” He looks at you intently, something strange crossing his expression before disappearing. Taking his attention as agreement, you take a shaky breath then continue. You can do this. Just like you practiced in your head. Easy as pie.

“I’m not okay with this!” All prior thinking and planning goes flying out the window as the words burst from you, and once the dam broke there was no going back, the words flowing from your mouth as irreversible as a floodgate breaking.

“I’m really not okay with this. I mean, I don’t even know you now! I can’t keep doing this. I can’t allow you to waltz back into my life and my heart when I don’t even know why you returned! Or even why you left! You said you came back because of your morals. That you couldn’t live with yourself if you sat by as innocent people suffered. But if that’s the only reason you returned, and I’m only a side perk that comes with being part of the jujutsu world, I'm not going to be part of your life at all.”

You take a moment to catch your breath, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your chest as you lay down your ultimatum. You were nearly giddy, woozy with relief. It was up to him now, and what he said next. You didn’t have to worry about this any longer. It was all up to him.

“So. Tell me. Do you need me in your life? Am I important? Or am I going to walk out of here tonight and never see you again?”

Think about what you believe in now Am I someone you cannot live without?

In the aftermath of the line you drew in the sand, a boundary you constructed to protect yourself, you find yourself holding your breath. As liberating as it felt to pass the burden onto him, your fears only intensified because it was truly up to him now.

As much as you talk the big talk, you’re not sure how you’re going to survive if he tells you he doesn’t need you. Because even after ten years, you still don’t know how to live without him. And you really don’t want to learn now.

'Cause I know I don't wanna live without you, yeah

He sat perfectly still for a moment, and you waited for his reaction, your inability to see past his stoic mask just another reminder of everything the two of you had lost. Awkward silence permeates the air, coiling its oily tentacles around your throat and making it hard to breathe.

You can’t do this. You have to get out of here. Screw standing up for yourself and protecting your heart. You’re not brave enough to sit here and look him in the face as he tells you he doesn’t need you.

Just as you go to push your chair back and flee, his voice cuts through your panic, its familiar warmth pulling you out of your panic. “I’m sorry.”

Bring it all back to the bar downtown When you wouldn’t let me walk out on you, yeah

You almost break your neck with how fast you meet his eyes, stunned as you notice him fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. You had forgotten that he did that when he was anxious or uncomfortable. Suddenly anger bubbles in your gut, and you explode, unable to hold back any longer.

“What does that even mean at this point?!” Your voice is sharper than you intended, and you see him flinch slightly. “You walked out on me! You disappeared! You didn’t even say goodbye. Nanami I-”

“Kento.” He interrupts you, looking at you oddly. Was he…hurt? You make a vague sound of confusion, too distracted by the pain and guilt in his eyes to formulate a proper response.

“That’s my name. Kento. I’ve put up with you using my family name these past few weeks, but I can’t tolerate it any longer. To you I am Kento. Never Nanami.”

Slight vulnerability shines in his eyes, the first real emotion he’s let you see all night. But you can’t bring yourself to care, too caught up in your own anger and rage. “You know what, Nanami?” You place emphasis on his family name, not caring how petty it was.

“I only call people I’m close to and know well by their first names. And unfortunately for you, I no longer consider you someone I’m close to. You’re a stranger to me now. I don’t know why I’ve been pretending otherwise these past few weeks.”

Sighing, you lower your voice, suddenly exhausted. “Yeah…I have no idea why I’ve been pretending you’re anything more than somebody I used to know. Please, let’s just forget these last couple weeks and go back to the way things were before, each of us leading separate lives.”

You grab your purse and take out your wallet, hoping to pay the bill and get out of there as soon as possible. You went into this night a mess of emotions, willing to let bygones be bygones as long as he told you he still cared. Only for you to realize that you weren’t okay with that, and he’s hurt you too badly for your relationship to recover.

In the wake of your rapid emotional development, you’re left feeling dull and empty, which probably accounts for why you didn’t realize he was even speaking to you until he reached out across the table and grabbed your wrist.

Distantly you hear him saying your name, but you’re so out of it you don’t look up until he stands and rounds the table, dropping to one knee in front of you as he gently tilts your chin up and takes your hands.

Nanami Kento, all crisp ironed lines and strict discipline, knelt on the ground before you, dirtying the knees of his pristine slacks as he grovels. People around you are staring, and while some distant part of your brain is embarrassed, the vast majority of it is occupied by the feel of his hands holding yours.

You hated yourself. You hated your traitorous hands for seeking the warmth of his, your stomach for filling with butterflies against your heart. You hated your heart and mouth for staging a mutiny against all common sense, hardly believing the words that left your lips.

“I’m sorry.” You blink down at him. “I missed all of that. Do you want to go somewhere quieter to talk?”

Unfettered relief filled his face and within seconds he was flagging down the server and paying the bill, not even allowing you to open your purse. He zipped you up into your coat, making sure he had all of your belongings and was ushering you out of the restaurant in two minutes flat, as if he was convinced that if he gave you any longer you would change your mind.

Which he wasn’t entirely wrong about. You were already feeling your apprehensiveness creeping back in. Who in their right mind would consider taking someone back just because they knelt on the ground and took your hands. Apparently you, although you didn’t feel like you were in your right mind at the moment (you never were when he was involved).

The two of you loitered awkwardly on the sidewalk, neither of you sure where to go before you finally mustered up your courage and spoke. “There’s a bench in a park around here that I like to go sit on a lot. And it’s fairly secluded, although I doubt many people will be in the park at this time of night.” He just nodded, and the two of you set off for the proposed destination, you leading the way.

Which is how you found yourself perched next to him on your bench, the quiet practically screaming at you. Say something!!! You screeched telepathically at him, hoping he got the message. Please don’t make me regret this. Prove to me that I’m not an idiot for giving you this chance. Please just-

“Listen I-” He cleared his throat, cutting off your attempts at sending him your thoughts. “I know that what I did was unforgivable, and I will spend the rest of my life regretting the hurt I caused you by leaving.”

His shoulders drooped, and you could practically feel the remorse emanating off of him. “Trust me. If there was any way I could go back and time and punch myself in the face I would. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to change my poor decisions.”

“But you can’t.”

“I know that.”

“Can you at least tell me why you did it?” Your voice cracks slightly, and he graciously ignores it. “Can you at least tell me what was going through your mind? What led you to abandoning me without a word? You say you loved me, but if you did, why did you leave?”

“I left because I loved you.” His deep voice is full of regret, and you pause, incredulous. “Kento, that makes no sense.”

“I know that.” He takes a deep breath and holds it for a second before letting it out in a great whoosh of air. “After Haibara died, I realized how powerless I truly was. I was right there, yet I couldn’t save my best friend. Hell, I could barely save myself. The only reason I made it out alive was because reinforcements arrived.”

The desolation in his voice hurt you, so against your better judgment you reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He squeezed back, and continued, this time with tears hanging on his water line.

“And if I can’t trust myself to keep myself safe how can I trust myself to keep you safe? And you-you’re just better than me. You’re braver and stronger. I knew that no matter what I said you wouldn’t leave the jujutsu world because you weren’t a coward like me. So I convinced myself that the best option was for me to leave.”

“Kento I-” You start speaking, suddenly flooded with guilt. You had had no idea he was struggling that much. But he simply squeezes your hand and gives you a look that asks you to allow him to continue, so you shut your mouth.

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to survive losing you. That I wouldn’t be able to live knowing that every time you left I might never see you again. And since I wasn’t strong enough to protect you, I decided I needed to leave the jujutsu world. At least then there was a chance you would leave the jujutsu world to follow me. And if you didn’t, you could be with someone who wasn’t such a selfish coward. Someone who deserves you.”

At this point he was crying, and you were too. Your anger fades away, and in its place comes sorrow and…relief. Sorrow for all the years you lost, but relief because he didn’t leave because he stopped loving you. Relief because he still loved you even after all these years, he hadn’t stopped loving you once.

“Hey.” You brush his tears away, your own tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re a dumbass, you know that?”

“I know. I spent every day for the last ten years regretting the decision I made. I’m so sorry that it took me so long to work up the courage to come back to you. But I need you to hear this.” His face grew serious, and he held your face in his warm palms as he looked at you intently.

“I will stay in your life as long as you permit me to, and spend that time repairing the damage I have inflicted. If that is only a week, then that will be the most cherished week of my life. If it is only a month, then I will use every second of it. And if it is the rest of your life, then I will spend the rest of mine loving you.”

He paused, cheeks reddening slightly. “The latter would be my preference. As long as what you plan to do with your life has space for me, I will occupy it gladly. I do not care if that means you leave me in a year, two years, three. I just-”

For the first time since he had reappeared in your life you laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more. Clutching your stomach and wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, you looked at him, eyes shining.

“Kento.” Your voice was soft, despite the traces of mirth still lingering in it. “I appreciate your confidence in me, but I don’t even know what I’m doing for the rest of tonight, let alone for the rest of my life. Why don’t we just take it one day at a time, okay?”

He slumped forwards in relief and wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you. Thank you. That sounds much more than okay sweetheart. Sounds perfect, actually.”

You said, "Hey, whatcha doing for the rest of your life?" And I said, "I don't even know what I'm doing tonight"

Time went by, and you relearned everything about the man named Nanami Kento. You learned that he still wanted to go to Malaysia, and that he moped around for a month after his favorite bakery closed down. You learned that he had tried to take up painting as a hobby in his early twenties only to discover he was extremely bad at it and quit, and that he pretends to be reading when Gojo is around so he has an excuse to ignore him.

You noticed that he was less open with his emotions than he used to be, but that didn’t stop him from expressing his affection in other ways. Be it always greeting you with your favorite pastry and a coffee in the mornings, or going out of his way to profess his feelings towards you, he made sure that you never had another reason to doubt his love for you.

It took time, and while it never fully went away, the hurt and anger faded until it was unnoticeable. When he left you had been in love with the eighteen year old version of him, and you got to experience falling in love with him all over again, this time with his twenty-seven year old self.

Fast forward two years, and the two of you are taking a nighttime walk in the park from two years ago, holding hands as you enjoy the peaceful night air when he suddenly speaks, startling you.

“Love.” You jolt looking up at him. “Yes? What’s…”

Part of you relished in the fact that you could see past his stoic facade straight to what was in his heart again, but tonight the intensity of the emotions swirling in his warm brown eyes caused you to trail off.

They weren’t bad emotions, in fact, they were far from it. He was looking at you like you were his whole world, like he could spend the rest of your life gazing into your eyes and still not have enough of your face. A little flustered under his full attention, you spluttered, then became deathly still.

Maintaining eye contact the entire time, your boyfriend got down on one knee just like he did all those years ago in that restaurant when he was begging for another chance. Except this time he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a velvet ring box. And suddenly a simple, yet elegant diamond was twinkling up at you from where it was nestled in the plush velvet.

You looked at me and I looked at you Like we'd never look away

Your hand flies up, covering your mouth as tears fill your eyes. “Ken are you…?” He smiles tenderly up at you, and the sweetness of the moment absolutely nearly gives you heart palpitations.

“Y/N.” He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on with so much conviction that you can’t help but believe him. “The first time I met you I knew you were the one for me. I-”

“Hold up.” You hold a hand out, cutting him off with a watery giggle. “The first time you met me I was laughing so hard about a dick joke Shoko made that I shot soda out of my nose. That’s what sealed the deal for you?”

He chuckled dryly. “What can I say, I saw a beautiful girl who was unafraid of expressing her joy to the fullest extent. When I heard your laugh, it literally gave me butterflies. It was beautiful, unrestrained and full of joy, just like you are.”

Taking a deep breath, his expression sombered slightly and he continued. “I know that I hurt you when I left. I will never forgive myself for that. And I will never stop being grateful to you for giving me another chance to prove my love to you. I won’t be as bold as to ask you to be mine; I know I don’t deserve that”

At this point you were openly crying, the moonlight glimmering off the unshed tears in his eyes as well.

“But, if you would give me the honor of being yours, of becoming your husband, I promise you won’t regret it. I promise that you will always be supported and valued. I promise that I will stay by your side and love you through thick and thin. So, would you give me the honor of being yours? Of staying by your side and loving you for the rest of our lives?”

You fling yourself at him and wrap your arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder. “Save the vows for the wedding loverboy, what are you going to say when we get married now that you’ve already made all of your promises to me? Huh?”

“When we get married?” His arms wrap around you as his voice trembles. “So, is that a yes?”

You lean back the salt from your tears mixing as you plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Of course it is. You’re mine. That’s something that’s never going to change. However, Mr. Nanami Kento, would you give me the honor of being yours?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Of course I will. Is that even a question you have to ask?”

And as he slips the ring onto your finger (it fits perfectly, of course) you know that being his is the one decision you will never regret.

And you said, "I never regretted the day that I called you mine" So I call you mine

taglist: @ponderingmoonlight @arlerts-angel @m0k0k0 @starlightanyaaa

#lee's brain writes #lee's brain writes: requests #lee's song fic event #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n

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kun-diman · 1 day

Text

misery business

Title: Misery Business

Tags: Basketball Captain!Sukuna x Lead Singer!Reader university au, Sukuna x Reader, Female!Reader, Happy Ending (?) idk I just write what comes to mind at this point

A/N: Based by Paramore's Misery Business, enjoy reading!

Sukuna's in the business of misery, let's take it from the top.

As Sukuna finished watching the school band's performance, he was ready to ask you, the band's lead singer, out on a date in hopes of making it official with you. But he forgot a possibility— you liking another person.

You come running around looking for your dear friend Choso, the band's electric guitarist, to bring him the good news— your crush from the school's volleyball team finally gave you his number and asked you out on a date literally right after your band performed.

“Sukuna!” You greeted him cheerfully.

“Have you seen Choso?!” You asked eagerly.

“Nope, but uhm, listen I have something to ask you.” Sukuna asked nervously.

“Yes, what's up?”

But before Sukuna can ask, Choso suddenly appears in your vision.

“Choso!!!” You screamed enthusiastically while you suffocated him in a tight hug.

“Let me go...” Choso said muffled.

“Listen carefully. Remember that volleyball boy I've been telling you about?” You looked at Choso really carefully.

“Yes? So what?” Choso answered bored.

“HE FINALLY ASKED ME OUT!!! AAAHHHH I'M GONNA HAVE A BOYFRIEND!!!” You screamed, nearly bursting Choso's eardrums.

“Congrats?” Choso looked a bit troubled and took a quick glance at Sukuna. Sukuna who's very pissed someone took you away from him.

When Sukuna thought you were his he caught you by the mouth.

“Fuck me.” Sukuna cursed pissed with the view of you and your crush, now boyfriend, kissing at the gate of the school's gym.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Eight excruciating months he had to wait before that asshole finally set you free.

“I waited eight long months, he finally set her free.” Sukuna told his best buddy Gojo who's laughing at his pathetic loser ass.

“Yeah? What did you do after?” Gojo said smirking, looking forward to where this is going.

“I told her I couldn't lie, she was the only one for me.”

Eight long fucking months he had to wait for you. And now that you're free, he's not letting you go anywhere.

As your band mates leave the music room, Sukuna entered, and said a few words to your band mates Choso and Suguru. You were ready to leave when Sukuna caught you by surprised by pulling you in a hug.

Looking up to him confused, Sukuna shushed you before you can even utter a word.

“I love you. You're the only one for me. I know you're healing from your heartbreak but, please. Give me a chance.”

“Two weeks and we had caught on fire. That asshole's out for me. But I wear the biggest smile.” Sukuna said to Gojo after finishing spilling everything to him.

And wear the biggest smile he did.

Because if there's anything Sukuna liked other than the fact that he has you where he wanted you, it's making your ex boyfriend mad as fuck as he brags you all throughout campus as if you're his biggest achievement in life with that big ass smirk he got on his face every time you're clinging to him.

A/N:This was supposed to be longer but I'm running out of ideas so idk, maybe I'll turn this into a mini series (?) maybe not 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Border from @/rookthornesartistry

#jjk au #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x you #jjk fluff #university au #basketball captain sukuna #lead singer reader #jjk sukuna #gn stories with gabi

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thisapplepielife · 22 hours

Text

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest May warm-up round.

These Keys?

Gareth is dozing at his desk, when a knock on his office door startles him awake, "Your two o'clock is here."

Gareth didn't remember having a two o'clock, but he stands up and tries to smooth out his suit. It's two sizes too big, and something Eddie found for him at a thrift store. It's ugly, but works, for now. He's just working this job selling cars, saving some goddamn money, until the band can start playing full-time. Hopefully. That's the dream, anyway.

He's not very good at it, not like Eddie would be, but Eddie was a no-go with his hair that he refused to cut to be a corporate shill, or whatever he ranted about.

There's a guy standing in the showroom, waiting. Preppy and coiffed within an inch of his life. Great.

But Gareth approaches him, because he looks like he has money. And money means the chance at a commission. So, Gareth tries to shake the cobwebs out of his brain.

"I'm Steve. We talked on the phone earlier," this guy says, and Gareth reaches out to shake his hand. He has no memory of this alleged conversation. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so stoned with Eddie during his lunch break.

Rolling out of the van loose and faded after lunch, probably wasn't the best idea he's ever had.

But he hates this job. He can't sell cars. He knows nothing about them.

"What can I help you with, Steve?" Gareth asks, and Steve's just staring at him, definitely annoyed. What's his damn problem?

"As I said on the phone, my lease is up. I need to find out how much it will be to buy mine out, or lease something new."

"Cool. Cool. Totally, man. We can do that."

"How about this one?" Gareth asks, looking at a BMW he's never seen on the lot before. It's shiny. Really, really shiny. He runs his hand over the roof. "Pretty, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Steve says, but sounds less than enthused, crossing his arms over his chest, and it looks a little aggressive, "Well, how much? What's the mileage?"

Man, he's bitchy.

There's no sticker, but Gareth can find out how much they're asking. He'll just bullshit until then.

"It's new on the lot," Gareth says, and tries to pull up on the handle, but it doesn't budge.

"Locked, huh?" Steve asks. "Maybe you need the keys?"

Gareth presses his face to the window, to see if he can see the odometer from here, but can't.

"Yeah, I'll get the keys. I'll be right back. Wait here."

"Sure, okay. I'll be waiting," Steve snaps, and Gareth strides off towards the dealership.

When he comes back, with no keys, Steve is talking to Keith. Goddamnit.

"Do you know where the keys to this car are?" Gareth asks Keith, interrupting.

Steve pulls a set of keys out of his pocket, "These keys?"

"Where'd you get those?" Gareth asks.

"It's my car, Gareth. This is the car I drove here. The one I've been leasing from you guys for the past two years. The one I told you about, on the phone."

Keith shakes his head, disappointed, and points Gareth back towards the showroom.

He's been dismissed, and his potential commission, gone. Probably his job. A lease would have made sure they wouldn't fire him. Fuck. He didn't know that was Steve's car. How could he have known? Steve could have said something, for fuck's sake. Prick.

And now Gareth just has to stand by watching as Steve goes over the paperwork on his new car. The one Gareth definitely isn't going to sell him. Keith made sure of it.

Today's not his day.

At least it's winding to a close, and when Eddie pulls up in the van, Gareth walks toward it, relieved to be done with Keith, Steve, and this job for another day.

But then he notices that Steve is following him. Which, weird. Surely he's not gonna kick his ass over a dumb mistake. He was just a little baked. That's all.

Gareth pauses. And so does Steve.

"What?" Gareth asks.

"What, what?" Steve repeats.

"Why are you following me?" Gareth asks.

"I'm not following you," Steve says, clearly following him.

"You are."

"I'm not."

They're still arguing, this childish back and forth, when Eddie gets out and leans against the van.

"Soooo, I see you've met," Eddie says.

And they both turn to look in his direction.

"You know him?!" they both yell, in unison.

And Eddie just cackles.

"You set me up!" Gareth accuses, pointing at Eddie.

"Well, maybe. A little. But it was mainly Steve I was harassing."

And then Gareth gets it.

"This is your Steve?" Gareth asks, pointing at the preppy-looking motherfucker standing next to him.

Eddie nods, pleased with himself, clearly.

"Eddie! You lost me my commission!"

Steve is rubbing his eyebrow, "Gareth. Shoulda realized. How common could that name be?"

He's muttering quietly and Gareth is scared they've broken him.

Eddie must be pretty sure about this one, if he's already picking on him this goddamn hard.

Steve snaps out of it, suddenly striding over towards Keith.

Gareth follows.

"Hey, Gareth was helping me first. He's the one I had the appointment with, so I'd like to finish this up with him. See it through."

"But, are you, I…" Keith splutters, not wanting to let this one go, obviously, and Gareth just grins and holds out his hand for the halfway filled-out lease.

Keith hands it over, and Gareth leads Steve and Eddie back to his office.

Steve signs on the dotted line, and Gareth will be able to pay his rent for another month. And he hit his monthly bonus, right at the end of the month. Hot damn.

"Thanks, Steve," Gareth says, "Sorry we got off on the wrong foot."

Steve just lulls his head towards Eddie, "Now, we had a little help with that, didn't we?"

And Eddie just cackles, like the shitty troll he is.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: Inspiration for this one, was I saw this video a couple months ago, and had to track down the original on TikTok to share it here. But: Graham, Gareth. It made sense. (And I found there were updates to the Graham debacle!!)

#corrodedcoffinfest #may warm-up: get a job #gareth stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #corroded coffin fic #ccf warm up: get a job #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest #meet ugly #gareth & steve harrington #gareth and eddie are bffs

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whorety-k · 1 day

Text

Ebony Coasts [Part 3]

I already am halfway through another part but please accept this one first

Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)

Song recommendation: Too Sweet - Hozier “Don’t you just want to wake up / dark as a lake? / Smelling like a bonfire / lost in a haze?”

Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species

Word Count: 1.8k

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4]

In the end, you decided that you would have given Corvus your trusty metal pen, but by the time you finished gathering your equipment and solidified that idea in your mind, the merman was gone. For such a giant of a man, the black betta was a master at stealth. You wondered how he could have covered his tracks in the short few minutes you had been distracted, but you weren’t going to expend the effort to find out when the sun had already set half an hour before. Instead of your pen, you leave a compass hanging from a chain on one of the inner walls of his den and make your way back up the cliff side to head home.

There’s a lot on your mind on the drive back. Road safety be damned, you start to take actual notes on your phone about the merman. At the top, in bold, you write: ‘Pearls are an engagement ring— to be avoided for now’. A flash of uncomfortable warmth fills your chest at the slip up, and you quickly delete the ‘for now’, moving on to the next line.

You’re back home before you realize it, pulling into your apartment complex, parking your car, and removing the key from the ignition. You decide against grabbing any of your equipment in your back seat aside from the gear that desperately needs to be washed, mind far too preoccupied with a certain giant the color of coal and bone. The door to your apartment swings shut behind you. …When did you even get inside? Yep, you’re an emotional mess, and you need a cold shower for more than just the salt coating your body.

Despite the poor quality of sleep you barely manage to get that night, you’re up bright and early. With the necessary surveying finished two days early, you have the option of going and working from the office today, but the allure of another eight to ten hours with the potential of seeing your newest… friend beckons you like a siren’s call. You spend the drive down wondering if Corvus actually is a siren and if he’s simply luring you into an elaborate trap to eat you alive. If he was, would he have thought over your marriage proposal as he did—? You slap yourself out of that traitorous line of thinking immediately. You did not intend to propose– you have known him for a total of two days.

When you pull up to the dock that saw your life change forever, the trepidation that sinks into your core forces you to stare at the waves through the cracked windshield of the Ford Bronco you’re sitting in. Your coworkers aren’t coming out with you today either (nor do you think they will any later date unless anything new crops up). Limbs heavy, you throw the door open and hop out onto the gravel with a crunch. At least today you can spend the day relaxing.

Your feet carry you to the metal dock as you idly take in the morning breeze. It isn’t as cold today as it has been for the past several weeks, and just before you left home, you prepared ahead for what is, admittedly, a dumb idea. With no one around, you feel comfortable to go through with it. Standing at the head of the pier, you cautiously remove your outer layers to reveal the black bathing suit beneath. It’s a one piece bodysuit: a halter top with chiffon frills and bows at your hips and shoulders. Silver rhinestones adorn the neckline and continue down your front in a double helix, meeting a thin band that wraps around your waist.

The early sun warms the galvanized steel under your feet. You stride the floating dock until you’ve reached the end and test the water with your foot, happy to find that the polar chill so common in this area of the coast isn’t present today. A gentle breeze passes over your skin, and you kneel to sit down upon the heated metal.

The abyss of the salted tides swallows your legs, the refraction of the water causing them to bend and twist at odd angles as the depths swell around you. You kick your legs in lazy swirls and feel the power of the waves as they rush past you.

It had been weeks since your last swim in the ocean. The weather had been no help, really, with the near constant overcast of clouds that only seemed to subside this past week.

A glimpse of a deep rust red in the water catches your eyes first, then a whirl of brown shooing it off. Harlequin ducks! You had no idea they had been nesting this far down the coast. The brown hen successfully bats away the approaching male, and you lean forward to watch her. A gasp of elation leaves you when you see the four fuzzy ducklings desperately trailing behind their mother, wobbling unsteadily in the gentle waves. Adoration floods through you when one of them manages to hop up onto her back. You turn to grab your phone to take a picture for your team, only to sigh in disappointment when you look back to the end of the dock and see it resting on top of your discarded clothes.

You turn back to the open ocean with a huff, looking back down at your feet.

It was the little moments like this that had originally inspired you to get into marine conservation to begin with. The coast had always felt like a second home. The wonders of its creatures and their home kept you coming back day after day, even before that statement had become literal. It was ironic that the only place you didn’t feel like you were drowning when your studies would swamp you had been the ocean.

But the tides had a healing quality to them. As they would come and go, so too would the weight of the world around you. It was easy to get lost in responsibilities and demands back at home. Society has shifted so drastically over your lifetime, demanding more and more out of everyone yet giving back so little. Here, at the water’s edge, you could block it all out and just focus on the beauty that was in front of you.

Like the rusty reds and browns of a harlequin duck and the tiny little fluff-balls of its ducklings, or the rolling clouds that extend far beyond the horizon in milky patches across the sky. The way the light filtered through the sapphire swells, the reflection of the rays on the porcelain beneath.

…

…porcelain beneath?

Corvus’s obsidian eyes gaze up at you from between your legs, and you almost kick him this time for sneaking up on you. He absolutely would have deserved it, but unfortunately the aquatic giant has no problem dodging you in the depths.

“If you do that one more time–” you growl, withdrawing your legs from the water, “I am going to lose it.”

Corvus watches for a brief moment before he surfaces, resting a hand on the dock beside your leg. It’s nearly as long as your thigh. “I swear to you that it is not purposeful. Are your hearts alright?”

“Hearts?” you wonder aloud, “My heart is fine, thank you.” Your legs slide back into the ocean, and you feel one of the merman’s fins slide against your foot. Both of you shift to compensate and avoid that happening again, but the brush of velvety texture preoccupies your mind.

Corvus inspects the beach with nonchalance. “Have you only one? Humans and their peculiarities…” the betta comments, turning to look back up at you. He lifts his head fully out of the water, waves lapping at his shoulders as he rests his broad chin upon your knee.

The shock of both the cold and intimacy of the action tenses your body. Corvus doesn’t react to the change, seeming not to notice. Was this normal for merfolk? His raven locks tickle your thigh, water droplets glittering in the morning sun. An itch in the palm of your hand makes itself known, and you tediously reach to touch one of the wet strands.

“Are you hungry?” Corvus’s voice interrupts the action.

You snap back to reality. “No,” you answer, confused, “Why do you ask?”

Corvus gestures towards the family of ducks nearby with a clawed finger. “You were transfixed on the sea fowl.”

Corvus’s answer floors you, mouth hanging open as you look at him in horror. Did he seriously think you were going to eat them? “They’re babies. Harmless, cute, fluffy little baby ducklings,” you say, exasperated.

“Yes,” the merman nods against you, “they can be caught with ease, but they are not very saturating.”

The hand near Corvus’s head slaps against your chest, pearl-clutching as you stare in shock. “No, Corvus! I’m not going to eat a duckling!” you shout.

The giant recoils in confusion at your answer, eyebrows subtly knitting as he looks up at you. Your reaction causes him to shift and pull away like a scolded dog.

Realizing you’ve upset him somehow, your heart drops. You reach forward to place a hand in his hair without thinking, trying to comfort the fleeing mer before he can get too far. The thought of him leaving makes your entire body ache. He stops, and you silently thank whatever deity is watching. Before Corvus can think too much about it, you try to explain, “Humans don’t eat babies. Usually. I would prefer not to eat the duckling. I just think they’re cute, okay?”

Corvus still seems visibly troubled, but he relents. When you try to guide him back to your lap, the betta allows it. This time, though, he does not hesitant to plop his head down, his hands resting on the dock at either side of you to keep himself stable. You push down any emotions the action threatens to well within you. “I apologize for having offended you,” he laments. The melancholy in his voice is audible, and it makes you burn.

“Please don’t apologize,” you all but beg, beginning to run your hand through the dark hair on Corvus’s head. Even wet, it was as soft as the rest of him. “I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up. I’m sorry.”

Corvus doesn’t understand why you would be apologizing, eyes searching for something in you that you can't determine, but he doesn’t comment on it. You feel his chest expand in what you think is a deep breath, water rushing into and out of his gills around your submerged legs. "Okay," he mutters, his larger body finally relaxing against you, "Okay."

A comfortable silence envelops the two of you. Light vibrations in the water peak your interest, but the rumbling that starts in Corvus's chest when you scratch his head completely enraptures you. You do your best to remain calm and not draw any attention to it, lest the purring stop.

The gentle giant rests in your lap as the morning sun warms you both, idly wafting his fins in the water around you. 'Beautiful' is the only word that comes to mind.

-----------------------------

[Part 4]

#primarch x reader #warhammer fanfic #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #horus heresy #warhammer 40k x reader #wh 40k #corvus corax x reader #corvus corax #mermay #primarch #raven lady writings

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 10 hours

Note

HOW DARE YOU STAB ME IN THE GUT THE IDEA OF VAGGIE BEING MORTAL!

SO RUDE!

But at the same time just... thinking about vaggie wanting to grow old with charlie. that sort of show of *trust*, of being vulnerable with charlie in a way no one's been with her before.

and it probably takes some more conversations, but... I want to hope that charlie eventually understands just what vaggie means when she wants to spend the rest of her days with charlie. and how much meaning that carries when those days are *finite*...

MY POOR HEART HOW DARE YOU

well this almost turned into a fic now didn't it? hm. whoops

(had Reinaeiry's song "Left Behind" on repeat for this ^w^;)

.... a new sinner comes to the hotel, sometime After.

they came in past the giant golden Dazzle statue out front, creep through the foyer, tense and ready for a trap, spot Sir Pentious's portrait- and the matching one, hanging up next to it

(fresh flowers sitting in vases under them both)

it's a picture of a woman. Steel grey skin, faded angel wings, a missing eye- deep laugh lines at the corners of the eye she has left

she's leaning back in a chair, sitting casually in her hotel manager uniform, her thin smile a little crooked and a little sharp- definitely someone used to having problems and finding solutions. Not someone to mess with. The walking stick in one hand is held more like a weapon

there's a wedding band on her finger, on full display she reaches up to cover the hand resting on her shoulder

(rest of that person out of sight) (hand clawed and pale as porcelain, cuff of a red suit bleeding out of frame)

and it's odd to see someone else sharing a memorial picture-

(more than one person had died a little, that day)

-but more odd than that is the way looking at the picture makes the sinner frown.

they're still frowning when the hotel founder wanders over

(done arranging for a new room) (doing double duty as hotel manager) (laughed it off earlier- hasn't yet found the time to put up a job openings ad) (a bad liar)

and she's a lanky, tall demon in a red suit, looking more like a living doll than a princess of hell, proper demon image only hinted at with the claws and the fangs

she shows off the fangs when she smiles at the portrait of the woman- then, belatedly, at the new hotel guest

(still their hotel) (still their new guest) (even After...)

she asks,

"Like them?" and smiles a little wider (wider than a human could) (a little forced now) "They're, pretty cool pictures, huh?"

the new guest hums noncommittally. Still frowning

a laugh from the demon standing next to them, clasping her hands, spinning ring on one finger-

"I guess it's harder to know how good a picture it is, if you've never met the person in it." a hard swallow. "She would've.... really liked to have be here. To meet you."

"Not sure I'd want to meet her," a quip, thoughtless, not looking over. "Kinda a scary lady."

the demon's stricken look "-does she look scary?"

a casual shrug. "Just a feeling. Seems like she meant business."

"She did..." fangs biting into lips, smile gone, shoulders slumping, the demon caving inwards. "....but not like that. She, she was scary for people she loved- and kind. And thoughtful and-"

"What about him?" pointing at Sir Pentious in full battle gear, egg boyz everywhere.

the demon's very weak attempt at a smile. "Oh, you'll see him around eventually. He comes down to visit when he can, and likes calling a lot in between."

eyebrows lifting. Realizing. "He's the one who made it to heaven?"

"He is. He-"

"But not her?"

"...."

tall frame hunching, horns out now, dark marks bleeding down pale cheeks like burnt tears. A tail lashing silently behind her.

the demon breathes carefully. Gingerly.

"She... wasn't here to be saved. Not like- not like that."

"Huh."

a dubious, suspicious noise- the hotel is still a new idea even after all these years- a brand new addition to the fabric of creation with a lot of trust issues still to iron out.

"So what happened?" the sinner prods, watching carefully out of the corner of one eye. "Why's her picture up there with his?"

that gets a smile again, strangely.

a tearful one and a thickness in the demon's voice, but still a smile as she steps forward, reaching up to the portrait frame- touching it, lightly, with a pale, clawed hand that matches the one resting on the painted woman's shoulder.

"...they both gave their lives to their friends."

the demon whispers, still smiling.

"They made their home here, in the hotel, with us, and... and they'll always still be here. They'll never. Really leave-"

the words cut off and the sinner shuffles awkwardly in the silence

staring up at the portrait together, one frowning sinner-

-one hell princess slowly leaning against the woman's gilded frame, forehead butting it desperately, clearly trying hard not to cry in front of the first new guest

(that she's had to greet on her own)

finally the sinner speaks up (uncomfortable with pity) (a dangerous, weak thing to feel in hell) scowling hard at the woman's portrait, demanding-

"Where's her spear?"

the demon turns, wet faced, surprised. "Oh- she didn't want..." Blinks. "Her. Spear?"

"The cane thing looks stupid." crossed arms, a judgmental eye. head tilted to the left like bird, like the right eye was better at looking at things- "It's just a stick. How's she supposed to deal with stuff with just a flimsy piece of crap like that? The thing doesn't even have a blade."

"It had one." murmurs the demon, still shocked. Slowly straightening. "It had, hidden inside, there was a blade- Niffty made it for-"

the demon stops. Frowns.

"But. You didn't know her. The spear... How did you know about the-"

another shrug. "Just vibes."

"Vibes-?"

"She looks like a spear kinda girl."

a flex of the sinner's empty hand, gripping empty air, glaring up at the cane in the woman's hand-

"Just seems right, you know? Better than the stupid twig stick."

the demon eyes flicking down to watch, staring. "...she called her cane that, too."

a faint comment drifting up like the ghost of years gone by.

snorting, the sinner turns away. "I bet." eyes the rest of the hotel with hands on hips, critical and on edge with that stare still burning between tense shoulder blades. "So where's my turf in this place? I'm guessing I don't have to fight for it first, right?"

"Room 12, second floor." many times rehearsed words finally popping out without thought. "Key's on the front desk. I'll show you up-"

"Don't bother." sinner already striding off, clearly glad to get away. "I won't kill anyone on the way there, don't worry."

"I wasn't.... that's not why I..."

there's something. Something about that brisk, focused way of walking. Something in the set of those shoulders-

(like a military march) (like the shoulders are braced for wings that aren't there)

(like the sinner should be carrying a spear-)

Charlie lurches forward.

"-Vaggie?"

heart in her throat, fist in her chest, frozen as the sinner pauses at the foot of the main stairs and looks back.

something in that strange face softens. (pity?) (something else...?)

"... not my name, sweetie."

the sinner's smile is crooked. unscarred eyes understanding, and sad.

"She your wife?"

no past tense. just the gaping whole in Charlie- ripped open fresh, thundering and bleeding under her shirt as she stares and stares and tries to see- "Yes." seeing ghosts where there aren't any. "We. For, for so many wonderful years..."

the crooked smile soft as well as sad now, as the sinner thumbs the room key and takes a moment, looking back up at the portrait above Charlie.

"Good for her."

a touch bitter- a sigh, sharp. Pained.

"And, you. Some of us.. never even find who we were looking for, before we lose our chance at having a life with them."

turning and gone in the next second, before anything else slips out. The glint in suddenly exhausted eyes-

Charlie, standing under Vaggie's portrait, slowly starting to shake.

Not this-

"-no."

Slowly backing up against the wall. Claws reaching out, sinking in, ruining wallpaper as the world tilts and turns and Charlie braces her weak knees against the fall.

"-it's not. It's not."

It can't be. The side of the bed that wasn't Charlie's even when she woke up curled up in it- that was real. The dusty spear propped in a corner of their room that Charlie hadn't put there and didn't want there and couldn't bring herself to move- THAT was real.

The portrait behind her, painted when the limp and her balance first started getting bad, when Vaggie still called her cane a 'stupid twig stick' but wouldn't pretend she didn't need it, wouldn't swap it for her spear when Charlie had offered, carried proudly anyway and smirked about smacking ankles when people annoyed her... mostly just thumbed it thoughtfully, when she thought Charlie wasn't looking, smiling that crooked wondering smile- THAT had been- that was-

Charlie could turn around right now and see all of it memorialized behind her (always behind her now) (always in the past, being left further behind).

Charlie had NOT seen, anything else. Because nothing else could BE real.

nothing as real as long limbs folding in, crumping under that damn framed picture, ignoring Husk's worried look from the bar. Husk, glancing up after the new guest, also frowning now-

Charlie and the old habit of hugging herself tightly back together, something not even a lifetime with Vaggie had ever fully broke her out of.

(only ONE lifetime) (not hers)

(her stupid deal hadn't worked in the end) (promise broken for nothing) (Vaggie had died)

(she can't be-)

She can't do this again.

.....

exact words are a bitch sometimes

"Don't let me die without her." (never said- and make sure she doesn't have to live and die alone either, without me)

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #fanfic #drabble idea #vaggie aging wings au #charlie is grieving and going on anyway #UNTIL #idk can we make this both sadder AND not break the chaggie up permanently????#hmmm

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freddiemercurylegendabovelegends · 3 days

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"We miss you, Freddie!" ❤️

Today May 13th, 1991 - Queen Story!

Queen released 'Headlong' in the UK

🔸"Despite his personal anguish, Freddie somehow found the strength to muster some truly breathtaking vocal performances for Innuendo, digging deep within himself and finding a depth and spirit like never before. He seemed to find a new dimension to his voice and poured his heart and soul into every note. This is all the more remarkable when one considers his physical condition during this time, as is so evident in the aforementioned last videos he filmed. As Brian would later recall, Freddie could barely stand up during the final sessions, every hour he was present at Mountain studios required superhuman effort, and yet none of this is evident on the final album.

It is impossible to believe that the extraordinary voice behind songs such as Headlong, All God's People, Don't Try So Hard, The Show Must Go On and the album's title track, could have been recorded by someone as physically weak as Freddie was. Many people agree that these performances (and those to emerge later on Made In Heaven) are not only great, but among the best and most moving of his entire career"

Source ➡queenonline.com

➡ Queen released 'Headlong' bw 'Mad The Swine' in the UK (12” has in addition 'All God’s People') - Taken from 'Innuendo', fourteenth studio album

👉Headlong written by Brian May

🔸"'Headlong' came from me, at our studio in Montreux, a home recording studio for us that's very state-of-the-art, lovely for creating. The ideas came in a couple of days. At first I thought about it as a song for my solo album, 'Back To The Light', but, as always, the band is the best vehicle. As soon as I heard Freddie sing it, I said, 'That's it!' Sometimes it's painful to give the baby away, but what you gain is much more.

It became a Queen song."

- Brian May, interview 1991

📸 Screenshot from Making 'Headlong'

#1991 #headlong #innuendo album #innuendo #freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #Spotify

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mysteria157 · 5 hours

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Those Moments In Between

Moment Two: Your Daughter's First Pair

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity (not really), sexual suggestion, slight angst (very minimal).

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: Nanami joins you and your daughter for a family tradition, but he may not be as strong as he thinks.

Set in the It Had To Be You universe but you don't need a lot of backstory to follow along.

Notes: This was a random thought that I had based on something that has always been a thing in my family that I wanted to write out. There is nothing significant about this, I have not written Nanami in a LONG time, so I'm trying to warm myself up again. I am so rusty but I'm using fleeting moments of inspiration and taking advantage of it.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @sweetxmelody

MINORS DNI

“You don’t need to hold her so tight.”

“I’m protecting her.”

“And what am I, a goat?”

He raises a brow at your jest, autumn wheat and elegant but nonetheless annoyed as he glares at you. He doesn’t mean it, you know that—it’s all nerves.

“Ken, we don’t have to do this you know? If you’re against the idea, we can wait a few more years.”

“I’m not against it,” he reassures you, adjusting your daughter in his arms. Ulani babbles up at him, her chubby hands digging into a sharply cut cheekbone. He carries on without complaint, already used to her behavior. “This is a tradition, and I understand it but…”

You turn a key chain in one hand, your thumb smoothing along the glittery face of a dog—or is it a cat? The rack is filled with key chains of different colors, animals and objects, bringing back memories of middle school when you would drag your best friend Omelia into this same store in Sendai before it closed down. Despite the many years that have passed, the store chain still has its subtle hues of purples and pinks, earrings punched through purple cardboard paper, pens with wonky erasers, and headbands of different designs.

“But what?” you try to finish for him, smiling up at his nervous form as he lets Ulani talk to him in her own baby language.

Kento pulls in a deep breath as if to steel his nerves and prepare for the inevitable. He’s praying to whoever will listen, trying to use every coping mechanism in the book. He’s wearing jeans that hug his fit thighs and a dark blue short sleeve that shows too much bicep for your liking (you should give him a dress code). There are only so many single and married women and men that you can glare at in a day, and the redhead over by the register is pushing it.

“Will it hurt her?” your boyfriend’s low timber pulls you back, filled with apprehension, and he keeps mahogany eyes on his daughter to avoid showing you just how scared he is. You rub his back to soothe him, tracing the bands of muscle that are tense behind the soft fabric.

“I-I’m worried.”

“And you shouldn’t be. It’s a simple thing, lasts two seconds. Just like when she got her first shots.”

That’s not enough for him, because now Kento furrows his eyebrows in frustration, bouncing his daughter in his arms to entertain her and also soothe himself. “There are a lot of things to consider. The risk of infection. Rejection. What if she hates them? What if they get caught on her clothes? Or her curls? Or—”

“Are we ready?” one of the employee’s sing songs from behind you both, walking towards the singular chair perched against the glass wall of the store.

“I—” Kento croaks, clearing his throat and swallowing loudly. He looks down at you. “Are we?”

In the time you’ve known him, you’ve only seen Kento visibly nervous a handful of times. That stoic demeanor is a smooth, stone-like shell to everyone else besides family and close friends, but you know the weak spots and have glimpsed into the fragmented sections only visible to your eyes. Right now, he’s nervous and fearful beyond belief. That all encompassing love and attention that he shows you from sunup to sundown extends to his daughter as well. If there is one person besides you, who can make Nanami Kento show his emotions freely and without reservation no matter the date, place, or time, it’s Ulani.

“How about you hold her?” you suggest and give him a small push towards the black chair. Two employees work at the small kiosk next to him, unwrapping sterile materials and cotton swabs. Kento’s eyes watch every movement, searching for any sign of threat that can give him the ammunition to take his daughter and never come back. You can practically hear his thoughts:

“Is that up to code?”

“How long has that been sealed?”

“What is the name of the manufacturer so that I can ensure it’s reputable?”

Your roll your own eyes, knowing how right you might be.

When you found out your pediatrician would be on her own maternity leave, you let Kento research every establishment in Tokyo until he found one in Shibuya. Reputable, good reviews, and well-practiced in this procedure.

Of course, you’re nervous too. She’s your daughter, a combination of you and Kento, conceived from a very drunken night of disdain but grown out of eventual love and adoration. The thought of her crying in pain makes that maternal part of you flare with anger and the consuming need to protect her forever. But you’ve prepared for this for awhile.

Kento? Not so much.

“Is that clean?” your boyfriend asks one of the employees, clutching his daughter a little tighter. It’s a little rude, but the employee smiles at him in a way that conveys understanding of his trepidation. This isn’t their first rodeo.

“Completely sterile from the package. I promise she’s in great hands.” Deep eyes free of steampunk-esque glasses flicker up at her in doubt, but he simply sniffs and looks back to his daughter instead to withhold a scathing remark. “How about one of us on each side, and we do it at once?” she suggests, addressing him directly. It helps, as he gives her a somber but curt nod.

He situates Ulani in his arms so she’s sitting fully on his lap, his large hands holding her up with a slight tremble. The sight is enough to remind you again that this is new territory for him. What has always been a normal tradition for you and the other females in your life, is a foreign concept for him.

Ear piercings are a milestone in a young girl’s life. You got yours as a baby, and so did your mother. Omelia got hers as a baby, as did all her female cousins, as did her mother and the mother before her. If you interacted with your mother’s side of the family, then maybe you would know if your cousins also did the same.

But that’s another thought for another time, and you refuse to let painful memories tarnish what should be a memory you are crafting on your own, right now.

You step closer and run your hands through thick blond locks that are free of gel. You brush the strands from his forehead, letting the soft texture slip past your fingertips as he relaxes instantly. With his place in his chair, he’s at the perfect height to rest his head on your stomach, and he does so a second later.

One of his hands brushes light brown curls from his daughters ears. You can feel the unease radiating from him with every deep breath he takes, and you scratch that spot at his nape that makes him shudder, hoping it will help.

The muscles in Kento’s neck bunch together instead when one of the employee’s leans toward Ulani to make marks in deep purple, and even your own stomach turns in response at what’s to come.

“Okay, we will do this on three. How’s that sound honey?” one of the employees coos at your daughter. Ulani, who is a carbon copy of her father, stares up at her, observant and sinking into her daddy before offering a gummy smile. “She’s so pretty.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kento corrects, slightly rough but still appreciative of the compliment. “Aren’t you, my dove?”

He tickles her side and offers a rare chuckle as she squeals up at him, wiggling in her father’s embrace. The sight makes your heart do flips because this is your world, day in and day out. Just you, Kento, and the person you’ve created together.

You step around to squat in front of him so you’re eye level with your daughter, a hand coming up to wiggle the toes covered in a tan sock. Her eyes catch you immediately, and she holds your gaze long enough for the two employees to position themselves on each side of her.

Kento holds his breath.

“Alright, here we go. One. Two. Three.”

They both move in sync, pressing down on the plastic gun so the studs slide through the soft lobe of Ulani’s lower ears. Kento’s eyebrows furl together immediately. Ulani’s eyes widen for a second before her face contorts, her mouth opening in a silent cry. Your heart hammers and your chest tightens in an sudden flood of sadness and desperation that crashes against you like a tumultuous wave when Ulani takes one heaving breath in….

And screams.

His reaction is quick. Kento bounces one leg at a tempo that alarms you, his handsome face flying through different stages of grief, anger, and pain as he watches the employees adjust the diamond earrings to ensure they heal without complication. His mouth opens and closes, jaw grinding to keep his rudeness in check, because you know what he wants to say.

He was the same way when she got her shots; all glares and sharp stares at everyone else because they were the source of her discomfort. But like that time before, you are the cooling balm for his hot anger as you wiggle your daughters toes and murmur soothing words at her, to show him that she’s going to be just fine.

“It’s okay, baby,” you smile softly and it’s enough to capture her attention even though she’s squealing and crying from the sharp but quick pain in her ears. But all too quickly, you’re not enough for her, because the daughter that you carried for almost ten months turns away and reaches for her father, crying loudly in his arms. It’s a sting that you prepared for, but nonetheless hurts with a severity that takes a few seconds for you to recover from.

By the time you pay one of the employees and exit the store, Ulani has already calmed down. Kento digs into the diaper bag on his shoulder and pulls out a cotton cloth, wiping her nose as she sniffles and whines into his shoulder.

“I know honey, I know,” he coos to her, wiping the tears from her light brown skin and swaying back and forth. “But you were so strong, weren’t you? Hmm? A lot stronger than me.”

He pulls her away from his neck, smiling softly at her, and that one smile makes your chest bloom with satisfaction. It’s times like these that remind you how your life has surprisingly fallen into place. Who would have thought that the man who used to drive you insane would be the only one fit for you?

That small twinge of hurt you felt minutes ago when Ulani turned away from you resurfaces, but reassurance cools it’s prickly edges. Even though this is a moment you may have been more connected with, it’s Kento who feels the painful side of it a lot more.

So you give him his own moment. You watch quietly as he kisses her chubby cheeks repeatedly, smiling into her skin at the giggles that leave her. You fall into the hum of the world around you as you watch him tuck away the cotton cloth and smooth the curls away from Ulani’s ears, finally admiring the diamonds that twinkle on each side. The lobes will be red for a few days, but for Ulani, she will never think of them again until she’s old enough to pay attention. Until she’s old enough to change them out to match the outfits she decides to wear, different colors and gemstones, and multiples if she ever has a streak of expression in her teenage years. Like you did.

Kento finally looks down at you, chestnut browns sparkling as he takes you in from head to toe. The harsh Shibuya sun beats down on bustling city square, but the rays are soft when they touch him. Tan skin is illuminated gold on his cheekbones, his hair luminous in the sun. You reach up to run a hand through his locks for the second time this afternoon, your heart still not used to the incessant hammering that arises when he leans into your touch.

You lift an accusatory eyebrow at him and hold back a chuckle when you speak. “Our daughter was the soldier this afternoon, and yet I’m coddling you?”

“Keep coddling,” he demands, voice tinged with mirth as he turns to place a kiss inside of your palm and then leans back into your stroking. “Today was very painful for me, have you no shame?”

You snort and dig your nails into his scalp in retaliation, enjoying the groan that rumbles in the air from your ministrations. “Don’t blame this one moment on your entire day. You had a great run, remember?”

“My slowest three mile run yet.” Quick on the draw, and you already know where this is going. Kento rarely complains, but when he does, it is about the most trivial things as a means to get and keep your attention.

“You made me pancakes this morning.”

“Not my best work. Too much cinnamon in the batter.”

“We made out two hours ago?”

“Ulani woke from her nap and interrupted what would have been a very enjoyable afternoon.” That complaint leaves his mouth in a grumble, and you purse your lips to hold off the laughter that sits in the back of your throat. He’s truly pouting, and god do you love him.

“And now seeing your daughter cry from her first ear piercing was icing on the cake of a bad day, I imagine?”

“Exactly.”

You finally giggle and playfully pull a strand of his hair. He narrows his eyes at you, mischievous yet still carrying that ingrained indifference that you know and love. Ulani shrieks in his arms, finally past her blip of crying and now ready for her parent’s attention. You take in her drool of a smile, slightly red ears, and brown onesie-dress, and the possibilities flood your mind. It’s…very overwhelming when the thoughts hit you: how she will grow into herself, develop her personality, her wants and desires, her hobbies and her dreams.

“Pay attention to me,” he interrupts your thoughts, and you can’t help the bark of laughter that you give him in response. Ulani mimics you, completely oblivious.

“You’re such a baby, and we have a baby,” you tease, snorting at his level expression and dusty cheeks, slightly shy but absorbing your presence. “You and Ulani have had it rough today. So how about a reward?” You look to your daughter when you ask, knowing damn well she has no idea what you’re saying but you want to include her anyway.

“How about frozen yogurt?” I.e., the unsweetened applesauce in the diaper bag for Ulani and matcha-flavored frozen yogurt for Kento from a favorite vendor a few blocks away. It’s an obsession of his that’s been appearing in the freezer with numbing regularity.

Kento remains unphased by your suggestion, though his lips twitch with the desire to smirk down at you.

“Seeing our daughter in pain was more heartbreaking than I thought. Food may not help, I’m afraid.”

Kento is milking his “pain” at this point, and you’re far too in love with him not to entertain the idea you know is floating in his head. You love this about him, just how playful he is when it comes to you.

“You’re a tough nut to crack.” You tap your chin as if you’re thinking hard, humming in contemplation. “How about…” you trail off, a hand sliding up a muscular bicep before massaging his nape again, relishing in the shudder he gives in response, his eyes twitching to hold back the urge to roll into his head in satisfaction. “Since you’ve suffered so much today…we can go home…and I’ll do that thing you like.”

You have the privilege and skill of being able to read Nanami Kento like a book. You don’t miss the glee that dances across his features—the uptick of one side of his mouth, the slow brow lift, the darkening of his irises. He knows exactly what that thing is. You’re pretty good at it—a master at it—and he made you promise that the day he ever turns that thing down, is the day you can leave him.

His cheeks explode in blush, jaw ticking before he clears his throat and smooths a sweaty hand down the dark blue of his shirt.

“I see,” he ponders, looking up to the sky as if in deep thought, and you know if you roll your eyes again, they’ll get stuck. “Well.” He situates Ulani in his arms and presses a few kisses to her cheek again to pull those giggles from her that you both love. “Who am I to deny your mother?” he suggests to his daughter. “Not a moment to waste, Ulani.”

“You’ve got to be kidding—”

“Quickly, before you change your mind.” He slides a hand to the small of your back as a means to hurry you along, pressing softly and turning you in the direction of the car.

You try to bat his hands away from you, giggles growing in volume as he dodges all your attempts to get rid of him. “I’m not going to change my mind, Ken—”

“Quickly.”

He takes your hand and you let him pull you, beaming at his back as he increases his pace. Ulani is happy as can be in her father’s arms and babbling as he talks softly to her.

“A snack before nap time sounds good, doesn’t it? What kind of applesauce would you like today?” She gurgles. “Cinnamon again? Hmmm, we should always try new things, Dove. What about the strawberry ones I bought you yesterday?” A squeal. “Strawberry it is. I think…”

The rest of their conversation fades into the background as you walk with them, warmth coursing through your veins with each step. It’s a warmth that catches you off guard, but has been ever present since Ulani’s birth. And you love every bit of how it feels. How it flows through you with every breath you take. How it only grows every minute, every hour, every day that you create a life with them.

After Ulani is buckled in her car seat and you slide your seat belt into its latch, Kento leans across the armrest, a warm hand sliding against your cheek in a gentle caress before he slants his lips against yours. It’s a surprise, but the shock dies as quickly as it forms as you melt into his touch—full lips that know your own and soft blonde locks brushing your face.

That affection that he pulls from you every day is given back in this moment—freely and without restraint—in the parking lot of Claire’s in Shibuya, where your daughter got her ears pierced for the first time.

When he pulls away and whispers his love for you against your lips, you repeat it back to him without thinking. It’s a motion that you both carry out whenever you can.

“No more piercings. My heart will probably give out.”

“Do you feel better?” you ask in a tone that is filled with the teasing nature that sticks to you like a second skin.

He loves it, but doesn’t take the bait, and instead kisses your lips again, each cheek, and the tip of your nose. “I will soon.” The innuendo is so obvious you can taste it. He’s been with you too long to be a blushing and awkward man. “Once Ulani is asleep.” You push him away with a giggling huff and savor the deep chuckle that falls from his lips, permeating the air of the car.

As Kento drives through the crowded streets towards your shared home in Nakameguro, the hand not on the steering wheel envelops yours, a thumb stroking the skin of your palm. You look out the window and observe the colors and cars that zoom by, and the sound of a deep breath behind you makes you look back. And when you do, your heart gives a painful but welcoming lurch as you gaze at her. Your daughter already asleep, her head dipping to the side—curly locks askew and sticking to the drool on her face, and her new diamond earrings shining back at you.

Thanks for reading!

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love-kurdt · 2 days

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Now That We Don't Talk (byler): 2

word count: 15,023

warnings for this chapter: homophobia, parental disownment, very graphic imagery presented in a nightmare (car crash, blood and dying), underage drinking, sexual content, assault/rape. this is semi-autobiographical so pls be kind <3

in short, if you are emotionally or mentally vulnerable, pls dni.

“Uh… hey. I’m– I’m Will. Byers,” I stuttered out, shoving my hands in the pockets of my khaki pants. Matt blinked back at me for a second, as if he were processing what I was saying over the deafening music. Should I have been a little bit louder?

“H–fuck,” Matt swore, plucking a pair of plastic fangs from his mouth and tossing them somewhere behind him. He cleared his throat and shook his head, his eyes shut tightly. Had I met my awkward match? “I’m so sorry, let me start again,” he smiled, extending a hand out to me. “Hi. Matt Winters, nice to meet you.”

I took his hand, hesitantly shaking it. Of course he had the same initials as Mike. Of fucking course, out of all the people at this party that my friends could’ve introduced me to, he–

“Sorry, I’m not sure how to do this,” Matt confessed, looking a bit flustered. “I, um… I wasn’t really expecting to be, you know, set up with anyone tonight. If you aren’t able to tell, I’m pretty nervous, because you’re really cute, and I’m afraid I’m fucking this all up–”

“No no no, you’re fine! We’re on the same page,” I told him, placing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “I’m personally kind of terrible at starting conversations, so… you’re good, I promise. And, um, you’re pretty cute yourself.” And he was. He was lean, and stood at around six feet tall, at my best estimate. He had dark eyes, full lips, an adorable nose, a light stubble across his jaw, and beautiful olive undertones in his skin.

“Thank you,” Matt said as he shifted back and forth on his feet a few times. He was probably struggling with how to progress the conversation, just like I was. I felt unsure as to if this should’ve been considered a blessing or a curse, because yes, we understood each other, but on the other hand, coming up with new subjects was neither of our strong suits.

“So,” I said with the most serious expression on my face that I could muster, “Come here often?” Matt laughed at that, and the sound of his laughter alone set a thousand butterflies free in my stomach.

He then leaned into my space to respond to my question: “I’m not much of a party person, so, not really. My best friend, Riley, is dating your DM, and they apparently arranged this… thing… a few days ago.”

“What ‘thing’?” I asked, and cocked an eyebrow.

“Where you and I… you know,” he replied with a light shrug.

I shook my head. “I don’t, actually.”

“Um…” Matt trailed off, and I quickly glanced over his shoulder to see Ivy making out with Hannah against a wall across the room before focusing back on Matt. She clearly wasn’t available to potentially come to my rescue if things went south. I really hoped that “you know” wasn’t code for “have sex.” It wasn’t that I was afraid to have sex per se, or that I didn’t want to; it was just that I wasn’t into the whole idea of one night stands or hookups. If I was going to have sex, I’d want to be in a committed relationship with the guy I was with.

Before either of us could figure out how to salvage this uncomfortable dialogue, a very familiar bass and drum introduction blared out of the PA system stationed in the corner of the living room.

“Oh, thank God, saved by The Cure. I fucking love this song,” Matt sighed loudly in relief at “Just Like Heaven”’s high pitched, organ-esque synth lead. Any doubts or reservations I was having about this man were melting away by the second.

“Really? Same here!” I exclaimed, and Matt nodded.

“Yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands. I saw them live last year, and I was never the same.” He raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck, and I gawked with wide eyes.

“I will forever be jealous of you. Robert Smith’s lyricism is unmatched.”

“You’re so right,” Matt nodded along to the beat, reaching out to hold my hand in his. “And who knows? Maybe we can go to one of their shows someday.” Was this even real? What did I do to deserve this? Did I deserve this? I’d have to stick around to find out.

“Someday. Maybe,” I found myself replying, holding onto Matt’s hand a little tighter. We’d figure out the whole intimacy situation later. In the meantime–

“Wanna… dance? Let’s dance,” Matt said, pulling me by our connected hands into the middle of the crowd of people before I could manage to protest. And claustrophobia be damned, I didn’t feel like I was going to implode. Not when Matt’s hands gripped my waist. Not when my hands slowly moved from his chest, up and around his neck. Not when we swayed back and forth in a slow dance to an upbeat song. Not when our eyes met, and Matt’s nearly black irises got impossibly darker, but in the most comforting way possible. Not when Robert Smith ended his phrase, “I’ll run away with you,” the guitar top line began again, and one of Matt’s hands gently caressed the side of my face before pulling me into a soft kiss.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was kind of worried about it being so soon after meeting him, but… I didn’t hate it. Not at all. I didn’t hate it so much that I pulled him in even closer, swiping the tip of my tongue against the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss. He let me in immediately, and suddenly our tongues were sliding against each other, and oh my God, this was my first time making out with someone, wasn’t it? Was my kissing okay? Was I doing this right? Was I–

And then I felt Matt moan against my mouth, and his grip on my hips tighten, and I knew I had a generally good idea. He ran his hands up my torso and through my hair and it was like I forgot how to breathe. "Just Like Heaven" was still playing, but I could barely hear the lyrics anymore; just mine and Matt’s simultaneous inhales and exhales, the obscene sound our lips were likely making, and our friends’ unanimous screeching in the distance. They’d been watching us, the little shits. They definitely succeeded in their mission, I’d give them that. We pulled away from one another, but not too far, as he leaned his forehead against mine, his thumb brushing my cheekbone.

“I’m not into one night stands or hookups,” I blurted out immediately. I felt heat rise to my face at my brashness. Was I sabotaging my only chance at happiness? I had probably already ruined what we had with my sky-high expectations. But before I could backtrack, Matt merely pecked my lips again with a chuckle.

“That’s perfect. Because neither am I.”

I stared up at him in awe, brushing some hair away from his eyes. “Are you real?”

“Who even is real, nowadays? We’re all just figments of the material plane, if you think about it,” Matt replied, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I rose up onto my tiptoes and kissed him this time. He melted into it instantly, and I felt like I was going to die of pure joy.

“Wanna go somewhere that’s not your place or mine?” he asked once I pulled away. I searched his face for an impending “just kidding,” or a “no homo, bro,” but found nothing of the sort. This was real. Matt Winters liked me, no mind fuckery included.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I said. Matt only grinned as he took my hand in his once again, leading me out of the crowd and out into the crisp October night, laughing the whole way to his car.

“So,” Matt said, leaning his forearms on the surface of the tabletop that separated us. “Will Byers. Tell me ten things about you, go.”

We’d driven around for a few hours, listening to music and ranking our top twenty favorite bands, and it turned out that we had a lot in common. We eventually got hungry and ventured into a twenty-four hour diner. It was about twenty minutes away from campus; a very run-down place with dim lighting and 70s wood paneling, but Matt swore the food there was to die for, so I had to try it for myself. He was very, very right; I would have believed it if someone told me the grilled cheese and tomato soup combo I ordered had been laced with crack.

“Okay,” I nodded, trying to conjure up all of my generic fun facts. “Um… I’m from Hawkins, Indiana… I have a brother named Jonathan who’s four years older than me, and a stepsister named El, but I honestly just refer to her as my sister. I love D&D and I’m part of the club here, I love to read musician biographies, and sometimes the occasional cheesy romance– you know, the ones with the abs on the cover, I’m a freshman painting major, I love to sing, but I’m awful at it–”

“Now I’ve gotta hear that singing voice of yours,” Matt declared.

I shook my head vigorously. “Not a chance.” But then Matt gave me puppy eyes. Damnit.

“...Fine. Maybe after our fifth date.”

“I’m holding you to that, Byers.”

“Anyway…” I felt a smile involuntarily spread across my face. Who even was I? I’d truly believed that I would never be able to smile again after the series of events that went down in August, but here Matt was, making smiling feel so natural. “What number was I on?”

“Six, going on seven.”

“Alright, so I–I’m not much of a drinker, but when I do, it’s usually straight up liquor. Like, shots. If I’m gonna consume alcohol, I’m gonna suffer while doing it. That way, I won’t end up liking it too much. Don’t want to end up like my…” I stopped myself from elaborating further, mentally kicking myself for revealing too much of my life, “…father.”

Matt crossed his arms and slouched back into his seat, seemingly unsurprised. “Your father’s an alcoholic, then?” he asked.

I looked down momentarily at my hands, where my knuckles had gone white while clasping them together for dear life. “Something like that,” I shrugged. “He usually had beer and whiskey, so I steer clear from those, and just do shots of vodka or tequila. I know that’s not any better, but I think that if I were to drink beer or whiskey, I’d feel…” I grimaced at the thought, “more like his son than I’d prefer.”

Matt leaned forward once more and reached out to separate my hands with his own, holding them instead. I glanced down at our intertwined fingers, then back up into Matt’s eyes, and felt my face go ablaze with furious flames. “Gotcha,” he nodded solemnly as he rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand, “I admire you for distancing yourself away from the path to becoming like him. That alone takes an incredible sense of…”

“Of what?” I asked, withdrawing my hands from his in order to take another bite of my grilled cheese.

“Would it be corny if I said ‘Will-power’?” Matt glanced at me sheepishly, and I had to hold in a laugh as I chewed.

“Incredibly,” I replied. “Although, you’re not the first one who’s said that.”

“Damnit. Who beat me to it?”

“My friend, Dustin,” I smiled at the thought of my friend. I should call him soon, I thought to myself. I miss him. “He’s always had the weirdest names for things.”

“Like what?” Matt asked, and I froze. Like what? Like… Watergate? Demodog? Vecnapocalypse? I couldn’t tell him about any of those things without sounding like a total psychopath or violating the conditions of my NDAs.

I settled on a simple, “... I forgot.”

Matt snapped his fingers, disappointed. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” I nodded in agreement, then lifted my eyes up to his again with a small smirk. “But I know for a fact that I’ll remember something at, like, 1am and call you up to tell you about it.” Matt let out a chuckle at that, and I frowned in confusion.

“Sorry to break it to you, hon…” Matt replied slowly, testing out the new name on his tongue, making me blush, “but it’s 1:32am.”

My eyes widened at that. “No fucking way.”

“Way.”

“We’ve been here for, what,” I checked my watch, just to verify how long we’d been seated in the diner booth, “four and a half hours? And I still barely know anything about you!”

Matt chuckled. “We’ve gotta finish the list of ten things about you, first!”

“Not my fault you keep distracting me.”

I could hear the smile spreading across his face as he said, “I’m distracting, now, am I?”

“You are,” I admitted.

Matt narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin in feigned suspicion. “Interesting.”

“Okay,” I took a deep breath, pushing the conversation forward before I got too flustered and lost my train of thought once again. “So… Hawkins, Jonathan and El, D&D, books, my major, singing, alcohol, my father, Dustin–”

“Dustin doesn’t count,” Matt said.

“He does, too!” I insisted, letting a little bit of my inner child seep through the cracks of my adult persona.

“Fine,” Matt relented with a slight eye roll, “But only because I like you.”

Well, that was very forward of him. It wasn’t too out of pocket, given the fact that I’d literally made out with him not even ten minutes into knowing his name, but listening to a guy openly admitting his romantic feelings for me without any form of hesitation was something I had yet to get used to. I spent years hiding my own feelings, and Mike… fuck Mike. “I like you, too,” I told him, and I felt a sense of… accomplishment? This year’s Moving On Award recipient is… Will Byers, from Mike Wheeler to Matt Winters! Cue the fanfare, confetti, et cetera.

“… And that’s ten.”

“Really?” I shook my head in confusion. “What was ten?”

“That you’re into me.”

“Oh,” I said with a slight eye roll at my own stupidity, “Yeah. I guess that was ten things.”

“And that’s my number one. I like you,” he nudged my foot with his under the table with a smirk, “I have severe ADHD, I had a dog as a kid and named him Swayze— he was a pomeranian. I’m a senior material studies major because I can’t make decisions to save my life. I have a passion for writing and have this dream of writing and illustrating my own stories someday–”

“Woah, me too!” I interrupted, and Matt’s eyes lit up in surprise.

“No way, you write as well?”

How to Explain The Status of Your Co-Writing Relationship with Your Ex-Best Friend Who You Were in Unrequited but Not Actually Unrequited Love With, All Without Mentioning His Name for Dummies would’ve been pretty useful right about now. “Uh… no. I used to work on silly comic books with some of my old friends, but I only illustrated. Someone else did the writing.”

“Cool,” Matt nodded in approval.

“I have no idea what's gonna happen next. But, whatever it is, I... I think we should work together. I think it'll be easier if we're... we're a team. Friends. Best friends.”

“Cool.”

“So, uh—” Fuck, I hadn’t even realized I’d spaced out. “That was five, right?” Matt asked me, and I nodded, taking a sip of my Diet Coke. How long did I dissociate for? This hadn’t happened to me in months.

“My favorite subject back in high school was Home Economics,” he continued. “Frankly, I think the skills taught in that class helped me out in life way more than any trigonometric equation ever could. I smoke grass regularly, but hate cigarettes.” Now I had a valid reason to quit smoking. Not like I should’ve been smoking underage to begin with, but that was besides the point.

“I love virtually anything Stephen King, I’m a coffee connoisseur of sorts since I work at a café, and…” Matt leaned his elbow against the table and rested his head on his palm, deep in thought. “If I were to live anywhere in the world for the rest of my life, it would be Israel.”

I raised a quizzical eyebrow at that. “Why Israel?”

“I have some extended family there, in Tel-Aviv. I went to Jerusalem a few summers back, and… fuck, that city is beautiful. I’ve been there only once, but there’s something about exploring your religious heritage in the place it originated is so surreal.”

“Wait, you’re Jewish, too?”

“Yeah. I actually grew up in an Orthodox home, but my parents were really loose with the religious laws and shit. But when I came out as gay, I guess… all of the rules suddenly mattered. They cut me off, like, seven years ago,” Matt told me, pressing his knuckles into his palm one by one with his thumb. “Which, now that I think about it, I’m not sure if spending the rest of my life in Israel is the most logical idea I’ve ever had–”

“You said you’re a senior, right?” I asked. Matt nodded curtly. I did the mental math, and came to the conclusion that either I was horrible at simple subtraction, or… “You were cut off while you were a freshman in high school?”

“Yup.”

“Wow, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you. I’m so sorry.”

“Eh, I was better off,” Matt said with a resigned shrug. “I lived with my now-ex, Hayden, for the rest of high school. His parents were so supportive. It made me jealous sometimes. But they ended up being more influential on my life than my own parents had ever been capable of being.” As he spoke, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to my own mom and dad. The opportunity to disown me was right there in front of them, and yet, they hadn’t thought twice about accepting me when I came out to them. I was glad that Matt at least had Hayden’s parents to lean on. That was, until they broke up. So did that mean that he didn’t have any family at all?

“I kind of don’t want to ask this because it sounds pretty fucking shallow in comparison to what you just told me, but… why’d you two break up?” I asked hesitantly. Matt dismissed my self-consciousness with a wave of his hand.

“You’re totally fine, it’s a valid question. I’m completely okay with sharing, too, if you’re worried about that.” It was like he was in my head. “I didn’t really want to break up with him, honestly. But he insisted that since he was going to Utah for college and I was going to Illinois, long distance wasn’t feasible. I just wanted him to be happy, and for us to end things on a high note, so… I let him go. After I did, though, I was so hesitant to get back into the dating scene. I couldn’t picture myself loving anyone else. He taught me what love was.”

I knew how that felt. I told him so, and he chuckled softly before resting his head on the palm of his hand. “We’re a lot alike, I think,” he said as he glanced up at me, sparkles dancing in the umber shade of his irises. “Aren’t we?” Damn, Matt knew how to make a man swoon. I was falling harder for him by the second, and I wasn’t in any kind of rush to slow down.

“I’d say so, yeah.”

“Good, I’m glad you agree,” Matt said. “Because for the first time in a long time, I can see further than a few days into my future.”

The rest of the night went by faster than either of us could believe. Once the sun had begun to rise, we’d left the diner and headed back into the city. Matt insisted on kissing me at every red light. For years, I’d held onto the belief that I wasn’t worthy of romantically-charged physical contact, yet here Matt was, openly willing to give it to me. So I happily obliged, because what the hell, I hadn’t received affection like this in my whole life.

Matt drove us to McKinley Park, and we walked around hand in hand for a little bit longer until both of us were yawning in the middle of every other sentence. We found a nearby bench and I checked my watch, and saw 08:43 flashing back at me. I turned to look at Matt, who was stifling yet another yawn, and I couldn’t help but giggle at the complete lunacy that was this twelve hour date.

“The exhaustion has finally caught up with us, huh?” I teased.

Matt exhaled, leaning his head against my shoulder. “Yeah…”

“I don’t want this to end, though,” I admitted.

Matt hummed into my tee shirt in with assent before muttering, “What if it didn’t have to?”

I shrugged, causing Matt to lift his head back up so our eyes could meet. “I don’t know what you’re alluding to,” I began, “but I’m still not sleeping with you–”

“I never said anything about that–”

“...Yet.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but I was planning on simply sleeping.” Matt smirked, continuing on with the comedic bit, despite my confession of being open to having sex with him in the future. “As in, a synonym of slumber, snoozing, s–”

He was being so adorable, I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached up to hold Matt’s face between my hands before pulling him in and firmly pressing our lips together. I felt him gasp against my mouth in surprise, and I realized then that I was the one initiating the kiss this time. And that felt fucking amazing.

“God, times were easier when those people kept their filth behind closed doors,” I heard a voice say from a few feet away. I let go of Matt and turned to see three men standing together in denim biker jackets in front of the bench we were sitting on.

“What did you just say?” I asked, moving to stand up.

“I said that the world was better off when fags like you weren’t shoving your ideologies down our throats,” I felt Matt tug on my arm as if to say No, don’t feed into it, they’re not worth it, but I was so beyond done with being mistreated that standing up to these idiots felt like a walk in the park… literally.

I approached the men and rested my hands on my hips, popping one out for added Gay Emphasis. “I know of another thing that I could shove down your throat, but I don’t think you’d like it all that much.” They stared back at me in stunned silence, but I wasn’t done with them yet. “So if I were you, I’d back the fuck off and mind your own business. I know a good lawyer.”

They didn’t need to be told twice; they immediately fled the scene, leaving me feeling satisfied and Matt shellshocked. I turned back to ask if he was okay, only to be grabbed by my biceps and pushed against a tree a few feet away. And suddenly Matt’s tongue was down my throat. It only lasted for a second before he pulled away, his eyes wild. “That was so hot. Will,” he whispered, reaching up to hold my face in his hands. “That was so fucking hot, c’mere–” I let out a giggle as Matt kissed my neck once, twice, and then moved back to my lips, swallowing the moan that escaped my throat. It hit me then that we were still in public.

“Okay, okay,” I lightly pushed him away, much to both of our disappointment. “Let’s go before we actually get hate crimed.”

I opened my eyes to a popcorn ceiling. I despised popcorn ceilings. I bolted upright, processing this unfamiliar room in a slight panic. When I was met with red walls and a poster of the album “Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me,” by The Cure, I remembered where I was; Matt and I had gone back to his house after spending twelve hours together. I was in his bed, and he wasn’t there with me. He really had been serious about respecting my wishes, and took the couch.

I flopped down onto my back and turned my head so my cheek rested on the pillow I’d slept on. I breathed in and could immediately identify Matt’s scent; pine and a faint hint of lavender dryer sheets. God, yesterday was a whirlwind. And to think it all started with Shaggy and Dracula.

I turned my head to look out the window to see that the sun was almost set. I’d slept through the entire day. My sleep schedule was definitely going to be fucked up for a while. Honestly, though, if I had to choose a twelve hour date with Matt Winters or a healthy circadian rhythm, I’d choose Matt. There was no doubt about it; I’d fallen hard, and fallen fast.

After letting myself wake up a little more, I pushed myself off of the mattress and wandered out of Matt’s room, down the hall, and into the living room, where Matt was still asleep, a little bit of drool puddling on the decorative pillow below his head. He was an adorable sleeper. As if he could hear my thoughts, Matt’s eyelids fluttered open slowly and I was greeted with a shy smile.

“Mornin’” Matt rasped out.

“Try evening,” I replied with a low chuckle.

Matt stood up from his spot on the couch and made his way over to me, lifting a hand to push a piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear. “Did you have a nice sleep?”

“Yeah,” I said. Matt intertwined his free hand with mine.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked me. I nodded in lieu of a response, and then I was being pulled in and kissed like Matt’s life depended on it. I was so happy. I was so damn happy that I started smiling into our kiss, effectively breaking it. I looked up at Matt to notice that he was grinning as well, and we broke into a fit of giggles before leaning into each other again and falling, falling, falling… right into Matt’s bed.

“This is getting awfully hot and heavy” Matt muttered against my lips, and I groped his ass as he hovered over me.

“Yeah,” I agreed with half my mind turned to putty, and he grinded down against me, eliciting a moan from the both of us, “It is.”

“You wanna stop?” Matt asked, and I pulled away, thinking I’d made him feel uncomfortable. He must have seen the worry on my face, and was quick to reassure me otherwise with a light peck to my lips. “I mean, I don’t want to stop, but… I want to respect your boundaries. I won’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

“Matt,” I said, relishing in the sound of his breath hitching following my mention of his name, “I’ve never felt this way about a guy in my life. It’s a crime that we just met a little less than twenty four hours ago.”

With a surge of bravado I didn’t know I even had, I flipped us over with a grunt so I was the one on top, bracketing Matt in between my arms. He looked up at me in a haze, his eyes filled with pure lust.

“So I say fuck it.”

I’d just gotten back from Painting I, where Miriam had made the announcement that The Heart had been selected for a display in the lobby of the Admissions office building. I was glad that others were able to find joy in the piece I’d spent hours upon hours in emotional turmoil over. After class, I headed back to my dorm and called Lucas. We’d started up a routine of calling once a week, if not every two weeks. Dustin and I spoke a little less frequently, but we thankfully had that kind of friendship where we could go a while without talking and pick up right where we left off. El and I spoke almost daily. I heard the ringback tone go through a few times before Lucas picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Lucas, it’s Will,” I said.

“Hey, man! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright, you?”

“Same here, pushing through,” I heard the sound of a door slamming in the background. “Oh, hey babe, Will’s on the phone if you wanna say hi! Max just got in from PT.”

“Give me the phone, stalker,” I heard Max say, and I smiled as I heard the phone shuffling between their hands. “William. My dear.”

“You let her call you William?” Lucas shouted from a distance. “You never let me call you William.”

“You don’t let me call you Lukey Poo,” I replied, and I heard Lucas tut in disappointment.

“There’s a huge difference between the connotations of William versus Lukey Poo. I’m gonna let you decide which one is degrading.”

“Touché.”

“So how are you?” Max asked me.

“I’m good.”

“Woah,” Lucas complained, “so with me you’re just alright, but with Max, you’re good?”

“Same thing.”

“Barely.”

“I’m alrood,” I laughed, leaning back onto my comforter. “Or galright.”

“God, you sound like Dustin,” Lucas huffed. He wasn’t… not right about that. “Wait, I’m gonna dial him in, hold on.” There was a brief silence, followed by–

“Lukey Poo! My brother!”

“For God’s sake, not you, too.”

“God is dead, Luc-ass Puke-Ass.”

“Brutal! Will, help me out here.”

“Will? You’re in Cali?”

“Nope, still in Chicago. Hey, Dusty Bun.”

“Would you look at that, the Party’s back together again!” Lucas exclaimed. “Well… minus Mike, of course.”

“And El,” Max added.

“Yeah, and El,” Dustin repeated. “How is she, by the way?” Classic Dustin, always asking about El. Maybe Mike had been right in Letter #24 when he mentioned the possible chemistry between those two.

“She’s good,” I replied. “The program she’s in at Vanderbilt is kicking her ass, but she’s kicking theirs right back.”

“Oh yeah, I bet,” Dustin gushed. “She’s so determined and committed, though, so I believe it.”

“Yeah,” Max agreed.

“Has anyone heard from Mike?” Dustin asked, and I felt my mouth go dry.

“No, he hasn’t picked up any of my calls this month,” Lucas said.

“Mine either,” Dustin sighed. “Will, have you tried calling him?”

Friends don’t lie. “No.”

“Why not?”

Why would I was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit it at the last second, opting to reply with, “I think he’s just busy, guys. I heard the writing program at U of Indy was pretty rigorous.”

“For a kindergartner, maybe!” Lucas snorted. ”Plus, Mike’s always been some sort of prolific author prodigy! It should be a piece of cake for him!”

“Right?” Dustin grumbled. “I’m so confused. He just… vanished out of our lives.”

“Will, what if you tried calling him?” Lucas asked me hesitantly before adding, “He’s always had a thing for you.”

“What?” I shot up into a sitting position, unable to comprehend what I had just heard.

“Yeah, I gotta admit, buddy, you lost me there, too,” Dustin said.

“I just mean he’d probably pick up if he knew it was you,” Lucas explained, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “You and Mike have always been closer with each other compared to the rest of us.”

I exhaled extra heavily, hoping they’d pick up on my reluctance to do what was being asked of me. “I don’t know.”

“I sense some tension,” Dustin remarked. I could see his wiggling eyebrows from all eight hundred and forty-nine miles away. “What are you not telling us?”

“Nothing! Just–” I cut myself off with a groan. “Fine. I’ll call him. But I’m telling you guys now that he’ll probably be like this with me too.” They were completely fine with that. Of course they were. Because they loved to see me suffer, apparently.

We ended the call about half an hour later, and I found myself still sitting on my bed with the receiver in my hand. Was I really debating upon whether or not I should call Mike? Yup. Was it a bad idea? Probably. Was I going to follow through with it? That remained to be seen.

“To call or not to call,” I whispered to myself, “That is the question.” Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them. To die.

No. I couldn’t do it. Not yet.

Midterms came and went, and suddenly, it was Thanksgiving break. Matt and Riley had invited the rest of our D&D Party to spend Friendsgiving at their house, but I had to decline. I knew that if I didn’t come home for the holidays, I would never hear the end of it from my family and friends back in Hawkins.

I had yet to tell my family about Matt. It wasn’t like I was intentionally withholding the information from them. I was just so busy between finishing The Heart, organizing D&D campaigns with Kate, and making out with my boyfriend that when I did have time to talk to my family, the conversation was pretty surface-level. But now that we were all in the dining room together, digging into Mom’s kick-ass mashed potatoes, I’d figured that this would be a good time to bite the bullet.

“Guys… I have some news. It’s, uh… it’s pretty important.”

The sound of everyone’s forks on their plates stopped mid-scrape. I took a shaky breath. This wouldn’t be too difficult; coming out was the worst of it, but I was still anxious as to how everyone would take the news that I was actually dating a boy.

“What about, sweetie?” Mom asked.

“So… I might have a boyfriend.”

“Might?” Dad grumbled, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork. “So, what, you have half a boyfriend?”

Mom scoffed. “Hopper, for Christ’s sake–”

“We’re Jewish, Joyce.”

“For Christ’s sake–”

“Mom! Dad! Let him talk,” El cut Mom and Dad off, nodding at me to continue. “You were saying?”

“I have a whole boyfriend,” I playfully rolled my eyes. “We’ve been dating since the beginning of this month.”

“I’m very happy for you, Will. You deserve this,” my brother said in earnest, and I tried not to get choked up. He’d really been there for it all, hadn’t he? He’d seen me fall in love for the first time, and helped me through all of the grief and heartbreak that followed.

“Thanks, Jon.”

“So what’s this boy’s name?” Dad asked.

“Matt Winters.”

“Matt Winters,” El repeated, her eyebrows furrowing as she processed this new information. She shifted her gaze back up to me. “And you like him?”

“Um… I wouldn’t be dating him if I didn’t like him.”

“So why didn’t you invite him here for Thanksgiving?” Mom asked, looking almost offended if it weren’t for the wide smile on her face. “You know we have no problem with hosting guests!”

“Yeah, I know. That’s not the reason why I didn’t invite him, though,” I grimaced. How could I explain that Matt wasn’t anything like Mike, and that I wasn’t sure how they’d react to me dating someone new? How could I explain that I still wasn't exactly completely over Mike yet, and taking Matt home to Hawkins with me would have felt a little bit too… soon for me?

“I don’t know,” I continued, “I… I just… I want to make sure the guy I bring home for holidays is someone I’m one hundred percent serious about. And I’ve only been dating him for, like, less than a month, not to mention he’s my first boyfriend ever! Cut me some slack!”

“So I guess you could say that this Matt is out of your… Wheelhouse,” Jonathan muttered, and El snorted. He just had to go there, didn’t he?

“Hmm,” Dad stroked his beard in thought. “I wonder if that tall glass of water of yours is back in town yet.”

“No, please, not this again,” I whined, putting my head in my hands as discussion about Mike Wheeler broke out at the dinner table. This had been a common occurrence throughout all of high school. Everyone in my family had convinced themselves that Mike reciprocated my feelings, and that we would eventually get together.

El and Jon teased me endlessly whenever I came home from Mike’s place, and forced me to recount every single second we’d spent together. Mom was a meddler; she’d always find ways to get Mike over to our house for family meals, and made it a point to emphasize the word family with the implication that he was a part of it. When Mike asked me to senior prom, that was the icing on the cake for Dad; I think he even made a chart after that. Dad was both my biggest cheerleader and my biggest comfort, especially when I told him about what happened after I found the letters.

But that chapter was over.

I cleared my throat, and everyone stopped talking, turning to face me. “Matt is really great, guys,” I said in a low voice. “And yeah, he’s not Mike, but… at least give him a chance, will you? I’ll bring him home during Spring Break, and you guys can meet him then.”

The fall semester had finally come to an end, and of course, we had to party about it. Matt had arrived at my dorm room to pick me up, and when Aaron noticed us kissing in the doorway, he had more than a few choice words to say to and about us. I’d played it off like I usually did, claiming it wasn’t a huge deal, but I had been dealing with Aaron’s bullshit for months now. It was like he was an ice pick, chipping away at my soul as if to say, “Let’s see how much verbal abuse Will can take before he shatters!” This was the breaking point for me. So when we got to the party, I drank. And drank. And drank.

I’d somehow lost track of Matt’s whereabouts, and found myself standing in an alley next to the building where the party was going on. There was a payphone stationed near the entrance of the alley, so I decided to take a little trip there and use the rest of my spare change to make a phone call.

“Hello?”

Was that Mom? Holy shit, it was Mom! I knew she was small, but I didn’t know she could fit into a pay phone! How did she know I was there?!

Oh, wait, I thought, I called her. She isn’t actually inside the pay phone, idiot… Why did I call her again?

“Hello?” I heard her ask again. Fuck, I already forgot she was on the phone.

“Mooooom. Mommy. Hi,” I slurred, leaning against the wall. I thought right then that I’d have been perfectly content melting directly into the concrete.

“Will,” Mom said, her voice getting all hushed and concerned, “Are you okay?”

“Yup!” I proclaimed to the empty alley. My voice echoed all the way down to the other end. “I’m faaaaantastic. Just a lil’ drunk, though.”

“I can hear that, honey.”

“Is Dad there?” I asked, wrapping the metal cord around my wrist. I briefly considered what it would be like if I ever decided to introduce handcuffs into mine and Matt’s sex life, and I swore I gave myself heart palpitations just by thinking about it.

“Dad is passed out on the couch and snoring like a trucker,” Mom replied, pulling me out of my filthy, filthy thoughts. “Why? Do you want to talk with him?”

“No,” I shook my head, looking around to make sure I wasn’t holding up a line or something. I most definitely wasn’t. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t… I don’t know, ruin your night or something. Fridays are usually your movie nights.”

“Oh, we already watched our movie a few hours ago, some easily forgettable rom-com.” I could hear my mom’s smile as she spoke. I loved seeing my mom so happy ever since she married Dad. It was like she’d been brought back to life. “Now I’m just reading in the big blue arm chair, and so it’s just you and me.”

“Perfect,” I said, turning around and leaning my forehead against the brick and mortar in front of me, “Cuzzz I gotta-lotta-say.”

“... You sure you’re okay?” Mom asked, and I hummed in substitution of a “yes.”

“I’m suuurrreee,” I closed my eyes and grinned at the sound of my drawn-out syllables, but they snapped open again at the memory of standing in my old living room being yelled at by a very similarly-sounding drunken voice. “An’ I promise ‘mnot an alcoholic. I don’t wannanduhlidah,” I said, and lifted my hand up, extending my index finger to emphasize my point. I heard my mom lightly snicker on the other end of the line.

“Can you repeat that?” she asked me. “I’m having a little bit of a hard time understanding you.” Fuck. I must have been really drunk for her to not have understood me. God, I really was turning into my–

“Hmm… d’ya think I’ll end up like Lonnie?”

“Baby, are you kidding me? You are nothing like Lonnie.”

“He usedta drink a lot. A looooootttttt. Remem…emm…mer? An’ he alwaysssaid I’ll never be a man. He called me a fairy. A fa—“ I felt my voice crack as emotions took over my psyche, and I silently cursed myself for still crying over my dad over a decade later.

“Will. I want to make myself very clear,” my mom told me, and I stood up a bit straighter. Unlike me. “He’s less than half the man that you are. You are an incredible, talented, sweet young man. Being gay doesn’t negate any of the great qualities you have.”

“I’m a teeerrrible person,” I said, and mouthed along with my mom’s predictable reply.

“You are not a terrible person.”

“But what about what I did to Mike?” I whined.

“You did what you needed to do to protect yourself, baby. He’ll understand that eventually.”

“But what if I made a misssTAKE?”

“Only time will tell. It’s never too late to call him.”

“Yeah.” I looked up and noticed that at one point or another, Matt had joined me in the alley. How much of the conversation had he heard? Hopefully not too much. “Hey, mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, honey,” Mom replied. “Now make sure to go hydrate. Stay safe, okay?”

I nodded, realized that she couldn’t see me nodding, and provided verbal confirmation this time around with an, “Okie. Byeeeee.” I was so drunk. I hung up before turning to face my boyfriend. “Hey, babe,” I greeted him with a shit eating grin on my face. He was so so cute. Adorable. Gorgeous. Hot. Sexy. Edible. “Where have you been? You having a good time?”

“I’ve spent the past fifteen or so minutes looking for you!” Matt said, scuffing the soles of his Converse against the gravel that lined the sides of the alley. “Was that actually your mom?”

Well, duh, I thought. Who else would I call ‘mom’? Well, besides Steve, obviously. “Yeah! She said to say hi to you for her, by the way.” That was a total lie, but it would keep the tone light.

Or so I thought, because Matt had one more question for me. It was the one question that I’d been dreading ever since we’d started dating. “Who’s Mike?”

I was way too intoxicated to have this conversation right now. I met Matt’s eyes for a second, shook my head and battled my way through a choked, “We used to be friends. But he’s dead to me now. You have nothing to worry about,” before keeling over and violently throwing up onto the ground.

“Alright, sweetheart, we’ve gotta get you back to the dorms. You’re absolutely wasted,” Matt coaxed me to stand up and threw one of my arms around his shoulders. “You mind if I ask Pete for backup? I don’t think I can get you home by myself.”

“You calling me fat, Winters?”

“I think we both know they don’t call you Buff Byers ‘cause you’re fat, Will.”

“Waiiit a minute, who told you about the Buff Byers thing?”

“I have my sources.”

A few minutes later, we’d successfully located Pete within the sea of people he’d been dancing with, and we had to bribe him with twenty dollars to get him to leave the party and help us out. We said goodbye to everyone else on our way out, but right before we reached the door, I recognized the song blasting from the PA system and shouted, “I fucking love this song!” The song in question was “There is a Light That Never Goes Out,” by The Smiths. I happily drawled along with the lyrics to the song as my friend and boyfriend practically carried me down the street and back to the dorms. The singing didn’t stop when we reached my dorm hall, or when they dragged me up the stairs, or even when they fished through my pockets for a solid five minutes, trying to find my keys to let us in.

“And if a tennn tonnn truuuck… kills the both of us… To die by your siiide, well, the pleasure, the privilege is miiine,” I murmured the last chorus, getting a bit emotional as I watched Matt take off my Vans and help me into bed. He was too kind to me. I didn’t deserve it.

“Vecna would’ve had a field day with you…” I sighed, which resulted in a confused chuckle from my boyfriend. My sweet, sweet boyfriend who had no idea about what I’d been through, or the damage I was capable of. So much for my NDAs. I could just blame it on the alcohol if he asked about it later. Matt tucked me in under my comforter, brushing my bangs off my forehead and pressing a kiss there.

“Alright, lover boy, sleep tight.”

I was in the passenger seat of a car, and the road was dark, save for the headlights that lit the road in front of me. I looked down at my hand, which was being held by a very familiar and large hand. My eyes lifted up to see Mike in the driver’s seat, tapping the steering wheel with his fingers to the beat of some synth pop song that was playing out of his car radio.

“Mike?” A smile graced his features as I said his name. He didn’t take his eyes off the road as he rubbed a thumb over the top of my hand. What the hell?

“Yeah, baby?” This was pure insanity. There was no way he’d actually called me–

“... Baby?”

“What is it, love?” Mike replied so casually that I wanted to scream. But I pushed my emotions back down, settling back into the passenger seat and pretending like this was a totally normal occurrence.

“... Nothing,” I muttered, the fingers of my right hand picking at one of the rips on the knee of my jeans. “It’s just…”

“Will, we’ve been together for, what, five years now. Don’t tell me you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘baby.’”

Five years. Jesus Christ. “No. No, you’re fine,” I said.

“Good,” Mike grinned before bringing our joined hands to his lips to kiss the back of my hand. “I love you.” My head was spinning.

“I love you, too,” I heard myself say without even thinking about it. Okay, this is officially a dream, I thought. This is way too good to be true.

We continued on down the seemingly endless road for a few more miles before I spoke up again. “So… where are we going?”

“Heaven,” Mike replied.

“You’re funny,” I deadpanned, “No, really, where are we going?”

“Heaven,” Mike repeated. I felt a little bit guilty when I found myself staring at this dream version of Mike, trying my best to commit him to memory. “I mean it, Will. To die by your side… it’d be such a heavenly way to die.” That sounded familiar. Where was that line from again?

“Wait, what?” I asked, but before Mike could clarify, he was pressing his foot as hard as he possibly could onto the gas pedal, accelerating until the speedometer was essentially useless. Within seconds, he’d sent the car plummeting off the edge of the— cliff??— we’d been driving alongside the entire time.

The car flipped with a likeness to an Olympic gymnast, and I heard the sound of bones cracking above the faint background music that was still playing. I’d always wondered about that kind of scenario– if someone got into a fatal car accident; would the music continue to play? Apparently so, considering that the song “Stayin’ Alive,” by the Bee Gees was still playing. That song should never be played in a car for this exact reason; the irony is simply too cruel.

The car eventually gave up on trying to be a flying trapeze artist and settled in a diagonal position with the wheels in the air. Smoke from the undercarriage of the car traveled through the air vents and filled my lungs, and I struggled to breathe. But I didn’t even care; I had to check on Mike, see if he was okay.

He was not. I turned to my left side, and screamed in horror at the sight of Mike’s bloodied, mangled body sprawled across the dashboard, broken glass pricking his bare arms. Wait… there was no way his arm could be way over there and still be– oh my god. Mike’s arm. It had been ripped off his body. Holy shit. Mike’s arm was–

“Mike,” I forced out amidst my heaving breaths. “Michael, can you hear me?” I reached out and smacked him in the face in an attempt to wake him up. Please don’t be dead. “Michael James, if you don’t fucking respond to me right now I’m gonna–”

“Relax, Will. I’m still here.” Using his middle name always did work like a charm.

I let out a high-pitched sob in relief. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike said quietly, his own breathing labored. He glanced down at his arm and whispered something along the lines of Would you look at that, my arm is gone, but I couldn’t exactly tell; his speech was starting to sound garbled, as if he was choking on blood. He coughed a bit out, and I watched it dribble down his chin, proving my hypothesis correct. He was going to die without immediate medical attention.

“Come on, let me–” I went to undo my seatbelt, but realized that my limbs had stopped working. “... I can’t move,” It was most likely a severed spinal cord. “Mike, I can’t move.” I couldn’t move, and the last time I’d ever touched Mike was in the form of a slap in the face.

“Me neither, baby,” Mike laughed. His arm was quite literally torn off his body, yet he still found the will within himself to laugh. Maybe he was in shock, and the adrenaline had numbed his pain receptors. I wasn’t sure. But what I was sure of was that this dream needed to end. It was getting a bit too real.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, Mike! We’re gonna fucking die out here if someone–”

“Shh. We’re okay,” Mike whispered, closing his eyes as he spoke. “We’ve got each other, right?” Crazy together. Deranged together. Batshit insane together.

Dead together.

“...Right,” I shut my own eyes, but was only able to for about two seconds before Mike was hacking up blood. I watched as it splattered across the surface of the shattered windshield. “We’re really gonna die, huh?”

“All that matters is that I’m dying with the love of my life by my side,” Mike muttered, all of the color slowly draining out of his face. “The pleasure– no, the privilege– is mine.” I watched his head loll to the side as the blood loss and lack of oxygen to his brain caused his heart to stop beating.

I was startled by the sound of someone gasping, and paused when I realized that the sound was coming from me. I tried to catch my breath, lifting a hand to my heart to try and ground myself with my heartbeat. I felt the familiar sensation of tears pricking the corners of my eyes, and I shut them tightly, hoping the image of Mike’s severed arm would eventually fade.

“You okay?” I heard from across the room, and I squinted my eyes to see my roommate sitting up in bed. Why did he care? He hated me. He’d aimed slurs at me all the way down the hallway when Matt had come to pick me up for the party earlier. What changed?

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, thanks,” I forced out, turning away from him and facing the front of my body towards the wall. I just needed to think of a good memory and play it out on a loop in my head to fall back asleep. I’d done it before.

A strong hand belonging to Aaron met my shoulder, and I gasped at the sudden contact. How had he gotten over to my side so quietly? Why was he over here at all? Why was he touching me like that? “You don’t sound fine,” Aaron whispered, his mouth close enough to my neck that the tendrils at the nape stood straight up. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach; something felt wrong. “No, really, I’m fi–”

Before I could even process what was happening, his hand shifted down my arm and firmly grasped my wrist. “What are you doing? Stop it,” I told him, and shook my arm in an attempt to get him off of me, but that only ignited something in him, because he pushed me from where I’d been laying on my side and onto my stomach, straddling me and holding me down. “Please stop. Please stop. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop–”

He grabbed my other wrist and held both of them in one of his hands, as he forced my head into my pillow by my neck with the other to shut me up. He leaned down so his nose was buried in my hair, and I writhed in his grip as he inhaled. “I can make you feel better, Will,” he ghosted his lips over my ear. “Just stay quiet, and we won’t have any problems.” This could not be happening. It had to be another nightmare.

But I already knew the truth; I was wide awake.

The next few weeks were a blur. Aaron left and hadn’t come back after he raped me that night. I didn’t leave my room. I bailed on my date night with Matt over the weekend. He asked me over the phone at one point if I was planning on returning home for Hanukkah, and I glanced at my calendar for a moment of contemplation, noticing that the first two days had already passed before giving him a halfhearted, “Nah. I’ve already missed the first two days, and wouldn’t be able to catch up. I’m just gonna… stay here, I guess.”

That was a horrible idea, because the next thing I knew, my mother was in my dorm room, the expression on her face reading as a combination of disappointment and worry. “Hi, Mom,” I greeted her in a weak voice, and she merely shook her head, stomping over to my bed and whipping out a fucking stethoscope from her purse– courtesy of Owens, I assumed.

Despite my protests of being fine, she pressed her hand to my forehead before pressing the stethoscope to my heart, then to my back to hear my lungs. She dropped the stethoscope back into her purse and squeezed both of my shoulders, her eyebrows nearly becoming one with how hard she was frowning. “William Jacob Byers, you tell me what’s going on right now. Skipping Hanukkah without any call or explanation?!” I was in deep shit. She helped me pack up my things and drove us back to Hawkins that same day.

I didn’t tell my mom exactly what had happened, but did confess that I had been in a depressive state of being for the past few weeks following something traumatic that happened to me. Thankfully, she didn’t press me in regards to the topic of said trauma, but instead made an appointment with my old Upside Down therapist, Judith. I went to see her the day after I got home. Judith was a great therapist. I was so often the listener in my day-to-day life, but she took the approach of “you talk, I nod and give advice when you want it,” so it felt great to have the opportunity to rant about my problems and get validation from a sweet elderly lady who wore her own hand-knitted sweaters.

When I told Judith about what had happened with Aaron, she’d asked me if I told my family or Matt about it. I said no, I hadn’t. She asked why, and I admitted I was just afraid of my family becoming overbearing like they had been when I was a kid, and I was terrified of losing Matt over something I hadn’t been able to control. She suggested that if I couldn’t tell my family, I should at least tell my boyfriend when I was ready, as it wasn’t fair to him to continuously cancel our plans and keep him in the dark. I thought back to the last time we spoke, where he’d expressed feeling like he’d done something wrong when he hadn’t done anything wrong at all.

My mom had also managed to arrange weekly sessions over the phone for when I went back to Chicago. Recovery isn’t linear, as Judith often said. She was right. And in order to begin recovery, I needed to take that first step. So I spoke with Matt on the phone that night. He confessed to having called my mom, and was surprised when I wasn’t angry about it. I actually thanked him, because if it weren’t for my mom, I probably would’ve still been rotting away in my bed back in Chicago. When he asked me why I was depressed, I broke down crying at first, but found enough strength in myself to tell him the truth about what Aaron had done to me.

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” he’d said. “And as soon as you get back, we’re going to move you into my place. Riley’s moving Kate in after break, too. But you cannot go back to living with that asshole.”

Right before we ended the call, I wrote his phone number and address information down on a post-it. “I’ll see you in a few weeks,” Matt had told me. “I love you.”

“Bye,” I whispered, hanging the phone back up on the wall.

I prayed to whatever higher powers existed that my friends would just fucking give up already on trying to get Mike to hang out with us. For the past few months, the Party had been updating me on Mike’s whereabouts– or lack thereof– as he’d essentially fallen off the grid. I wasn’t particularly surprised, because I understood why he cut me off, but then again, why had everyone else been lumped in with me on Mike’s Do Not Interact list?

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Max countered, looking up from her and El’s joined hands, where she’d been painting El’s nails a shade of deep purple. I shrugged, not sure how to go about explaining why I was discouraging them from contacting our…. no, their friend.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, glancing back down at my sketchbook, where Mike’s left eye had begun to take shape on the page. I resisted the urge to cringe at myself. “Just… don’t expect much from him.”

“Believe me, man, I know,” Lucas said, slumping down entirely too forcefully onto the couch next to me with his cordless phone in his lap. “He never calls any of us anymore, we’re always the ones who have to reach out to him.”

“Which is why we’re calling him now,” Dustin reiterated the same sentiment that he’d been mulling over for the past half hour, pacing all the while. “We’re useless to Mike if we don’t at least try.”

“Okayyy,” I shrugged all of their ignorantly charged hope off my shoulders. “But as long as I’m in the picture, you won’t have any luck getting him into the same room with us. So don’t say I didn’t warn you when he declines.”

“What happened between you two, anyway?” Dustin stopped pacing and adjusted his MIT hat. I really hoped his new Thinking Cap™ was… faulty, or something, so he wouldn’t have any chance of figuring out the truth.

“Nothi–” I began, but El started talking at the same time as me, leaving me unable to keep her from saying:

“He and Will had a falling out.”

“El, for fuck’s sake, oh my–” I slapped a palm to my forehead in a combination of embarrassment and frustration. This was not how I’d wanted the Party to find out about this… in fact, I would’ve been completely content if they never found out at all and if Mike just… if he’d just… stayed away. I gulped at that sobering— and borderline concerning— thought.

“Over what? When? How? Spill!”” Dustin appeared in front of me, shaking my shoulders. He hesitated for a moment, gripping my shoulders a little tighter, and then letting go altogether before… petting my arms? I heard Lucas huff a laugh through his nose as he began dialing Mike’s number, which I subconsciously recited in my head as he pressed each key.

“On a completely different note,” Dustin retreated back to the bowl of Cool Ranch Doritos on Lucas’ kitchen table, “you have got to explain when and how you got so muscular! You’re, like, hot. You should go into, like, a bodybuilding competition. I’d vote for you.” El and Max burst out laughing. I shielded my face with my hand, a mild embarrassment quickly consuming me.

“Everyone shut up, I’m putting him on speaker,” Lucas announced, and I sighed, grateful that the conversation had officially been diverted away from The Fight. Not like my body composition was a better topic by any means, but I’d take what I could get.

“Hello?” Mrs. Wheeler’s voice came through on the other end of the line. I’d forgotten that Mike shared a single landline with his family, insisting that our walkies were immortal. Spoiler alert: No, they were not; they eventually died permanently back in 1988, rest their souls. May their memory be for a blessing.

“Hey Mrs. Wheeler, it’s Lucas. How are you?”

“Oh, Lucas! I’m doing okay, sweetie, thank you for asking! How’s… UCLA, right?”

“You remembered! I'm busy all the time, but it’s going well, Mrs. W.,” Lucas grinned. Max rolled her eyes as she muttered a quiet, “Kiss ass.”

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t call here to talk to your friend’s mom, so I’ll get Mike for you. One second,” she chuckled to herself. There was a brief moment of silence, and then–

“MICHAEL!” Mrs. Wheeler’s screeching voice came through clear as a bell, and the rest of us had to hold in our laughter. “LUCAS IS ON THE PHONE!” She’d accidentally covered the wrong end of the receiver. We heard the low thump of footsteps down the stairs, a bit of shuffling as the phone changed hands, and a quiet thanks, mom before–

“Hello?”

And suddenly, I couldn’t feel a thing. Fuck.

“Mike!”

“It’s been ages, bro!”

“Where have you been?”

“... Heeeyyy guys,” the all too familiar voice of Mike Wheeler came through the speaker, and I had to refrain from curling up on the floor and melting into a puddle of tears. I forgot how much I missed his voice. However, it sounded slightly hoarse, probably due to talking to the point of overuse, or having just woken up… at four in the afternoon? No, overuse sounded more reasonable; Mike had never been a quiet person. Shutting the fuck up simply wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“It’s good to hear you’re alive and well, man,” Lucas said.

I think I was the only one who made out the sarcasm-laced laugh on Mike’s end: “Hmmh… yeah. So… what’s up?”

“Your dick,” Matt’s voice offered up in my head. I shoved my boyfriend’s vulgar humor into the furthest corner of my mind, because the last thing I needed to think about right now was Mike’s dick. Not like I’d thought about it prior to this. Well… not very often.

“We’re hanging out at my place right now, and we wanted to see if you feel like making the trek across the vast expanse of our lawns to join us!” Lucas replied.

There was a moment of silence on Mike’s end, followed by a shaky exhale. “... Is he gonna be there?”

Lucas furrowed his eyebrows. “Who?”

“I think you know who I mean, Lucas.” I pointed at myself with a look that screamed I told you so, and Lucas’ eyes widened dramatically at the realization that I was, in fact, right. Mike wanted nothing to do with me.

“... Yeah,” he said in a low voice with a likeness to a confession, not once breaking eye contact with me. I was not going to be let out of this one easily.

“Yeah no, I’ll pass. Thanks, though.”

“Are you s—” Lucas began to protest.

“Bye, guys,” Mike cut him off before promptly hanging up, leaving everyone else’s jaws on the floor. And then… all eyes on me. Understandably.

“He’s been like this since August,” Dustin was the one to start talking. He looked rather accusatory as his eyes narrowed, and I felt my stomach fall out of my ass. “So… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.”

“Hey!” I put my hands up, “What makes you think I was the one who did something?!”

“Y-yeah,” Lucas added on, “like, maybe Mike did something to… I don’t know. Whatever happened between you two, though, it’s made him really distant. I think something is seriously wrong.” I suddenly felt the air in the Sinclairs’ living room run cold, and… looked up to see Max adjusting the thermostat. I would never get used to the concept of central air, even after having it in my own house for years.

“What do you mean?” El asked, her voice quiet.

“Okay, for instance, you know how Mike’s a talker?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, that Mike is gone, because phone conversations between us never make it past three and a half minutes,” Lucas said, his eyes trained on the floor as he spoke. “It’s all hey bro, how are you doing, good, good, how’s school, great, I’m busy actually, can I call you at some other point and we can catch up, yeah sure talk soon. The end. And then he never calls me back.”

“Yeah, he’s been short with me, too,” Dustin added. “And that’s saying something, because that man is a fucking skyscraper.”

“You must know something, Will,” Max said from where she stood, returning the focus of the conversation back onto me. Honestly, I was starting to get a bit frustrated. I’d obviously played a pretty large role in Mike’s downward spiral, and it was eating away at me with every new second that passed. But at the same time, I thought my friends would take the news of our falling out as a sign to not press me about him.

“I really don’t, actually,” I replied, “and I’m kind of confused as to why this is my problem.”

“Woah, Will, calm down, I didn’t mean to make you get defensive,” Max said, her eyes wide, probably surprised at my blatant apathy to the situation. “It’s just that you two were so close for years, and I thought… I thought maybe you were just trying to protect him, or something.”

That was fair. “Right,” I whispered, and closed my eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry for snapping. I’m just–” I opened my eyes back up, “I’m tired of talking about Mike. He’s not gonna change, so why are we still trying?” I was nervous for a moment that I’d pushed a bit too hard attempting to move on from the current conversation, but was relieved when everyone nodded in agreement.

“That’s a very good point,” Lucas said. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Yeah, let’s change the subject…” El trailed off, sending a mischievous smirk my way. “Will got a boyfriend.”

I was going to murder my sister. I knew she meant well, but… I was going to murder her.

“Boyfriend?!” everyone shouted at the same time, shock spreading like wildfire across their faces. I nodded, and then the questions started hitting.

“What’s his name?”

“Where’s he from?”

“What is he majoring in?”

“We need details, Byers! Details!”

“Matt Winters, yes, the initials are purely coincidental, Winston-Salem North Carolina, and he’s a senior material studies major.”

“And he treats you well?” Lucas asked, and I turned to face him, pulling my sketchbook closer to my chest.

“More than well,” I replied earnestly. “He’s… he’s incredible, honestly. He’s sweet, he’s talented, he’s affectionate, he’s out of the closet…” Unlike someone else I knew. But they didn’t have to know that.

I didn’t need to continue listing adjectives for much longer, because my friends’ previously unison bumbling split into two separate subconversations. I heard Lucas and Max bickering about how Lucas never said things like that about Max and it’s a wonder she hadn’t dumped his ass for the fourteenth time by now; Lucas rebutted with the fact that all their friends knew her already and therefore didn’t need Lucas to elaborate upon her best qualities. Dustin turned to El and nudged her with his elbow. She turned to him, giving her full attention as he muttered quietly, but not quiet enough to the point that I couldn’t overhear, “Mike’s gonna be pissed.” I watched my sister take in this information before she nodded with a tight grimace.

Mike’s gonna be pissed.

I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t been aware that I’d been holding, and looked down at my hands, which had somehow become fists in my lap. Mike’s gonna be pissed. But I was finally happy. I had Matt, and he was a better boyfriend than I could have ever asked for. Mike’s gonna be pissed. So what? He messed with my head, he deserved it. Mike’s gonna be pissed.

“Hey, um, I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” I said to no one in particular, and ignored everyone’s suddenly concerned voices as they faded into background noise. I closed the bathroom door a bit harder than necessary, and put a hand over my mouth as I began to hyperventilate. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed.

I leaned forward and vomited into the toilet.

I mounted my bike and knocked the kickstand up with my foot, leaning my weight onto the right pedal as I biked down the empty streets of Hawkins. It had been a long day at Melvald’s; I’d been tasked with running the store for the weekend on account of it being my parents’ wedding anniversary, and my dad had planned a surprise trip for my mom to Lake Superior. On any other occasion, it would have been fine. Working at Melvald’s wasn’t the problem, rather, it was my last week of working there before I left for college wherein lied the issue.

It was the day after The Fight. “Can you grab some coin rolls from the back, honey?” my mom had asked me from the counter. I nodded, put down the notebooks I’d been stocking, and headed to the supply closet, turning up the volume on my walkman as I went. The lyrics of Billy Squier’s “My Kinda Lover,” infiltrated my mind as I grabbed the coin rolls and walked back to the counter, where… oh no. Mike Wheeler was walking down the sidewalk in the direction of our store.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself as I approached my mom. She looked up at me, her smile fading when she noticed the panic in my expression. “Mom?” I felt my voice waver, “Mom, hide me. Please.”

“What? Why–” she asked, but there was no time to explain. Mike was mere feet away from the door. He’d probably fucking seen me by now.

“Just do it,” I begged. “Please.” She thankfully didn’t press me any further and gestured for me to duck below the register. I did so as quickly as I possibly could, and held my breath as I waited for the little bell above the door to ring. And it did.

“Hey, Mike!” I heard my mom’s voice above me, and I lowered my head into my hands. What the hell was I even doing? Why was I such a coward? I couldn’t even face Mike, while he’d come all the way to my mom’s store, probably looking for—

“Hey Ms. Byers…” I heard Mike say, “Is Will here by any chance? I need to talk to him.” He definitely sounded like he hadn’t slept last night. I hadn’t, either. I couldn’t. Not with the feeling of Mike’s lips on mine existing for the sole purpose of haunting me. I wanted so badly to stand up, jump the counter, and pull Mike into me so hard that it would send us crashing to the floor so hard that we’d get permanent amnesia and therefore erase the horrors of the past twenty four hours from our memories.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie, he left a little while ago.”

I heard Mike sigh. “Is he headed home? Or–”

“I’m honestly not sure, he never tells me anything these days.”

“Well, when you see him next, can you…” His voice broke– and so did my heart. “Can you please tell him to call me?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Thank you. I hope you have a great rest of your day.”

“You… too,” my mom said slowly, and I heard the bell ring once more as Mike left the store. Out of nowhere, I felt my mom’s foot lightly kicking my shin, and I knew then that I was in trouble. I stood up to see her leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.

“What in the world happened that could possibly make you want to hide under a counter to avoid your best friend of thirteen years?”

“Listen, it’s complicated–”

“You love Mike!”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem, Mom!” I broke down then, my voice dissolving into quiet sobs. She pulled me down to her level and rubbed my back comfortingly, but I didn’t stop talking. “I love him. I love him so much it hurts. And I’d just come to terms with him not feeling the same, but yesterday, I found twenty six love letters to me that he’d written over the past two years– yeah, according to the letters, it turns out he’s apparently gay and in love with me, what the hell are the odds of that happening– and when I brought them to him asking for answers, he just kissed me.”

Mom pulled away then, her eyebrows furrowing across her forehead. “He kissed you?! Wow! Isn’t that a good th–”

“No!” I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “No, it’s not a good thing, because it isn’t true! He doesn’t love me. He just said he did, and he says a lot of things–”

“He was probably just scared, baby! Remember how nervous you were to come out to me and Dad? Besides, you know he hasn’t ever really been the best at expressing his feelings. He most likely wrote those letters because he was too afraid to tell you.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Um, you’re probably right.”

This flashback, in combination with what I’d overheard the last time I hung out with the Party, had me so far gone into a mental breakdown that I thought I was going to explode. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed. I was distraught. I couldn’t go home like this without Jonathan and El asking me a thousand and one questions, so I decided to take a little detour to the park.

“We stealthily made it out of my window and down onto the ground without dying, and then we grabbed our bikes before making our great escape. We biked out into the night, wind whipping through our hair, and I just felt so free. And for a second, just a split second, I imagined what it would be like if we were together, and we were sneaking off to make out in the woods or something. That would be so romantic.”

I eventually reached the playground of my childhood. My eyes drifted to the swingset; it looked so small and rickety now, compared to how I used to imagine it as a castle when I was a kid. I sat down on one of the swings, getting used to the feel of the hard plastic pushing into my sides. My friends weren’t kidding. Long gone was the skinny kid I used to be; I really had built up more muscle than I knew what to do with. I took a deep breath and propelled myself off of the wood chips by my heels. As the cool wind blew through my hair, emotions ran high as it hit me that I had grown up.

“Hi, I’m Michael! Do you want to be my friend?” “Yes!” I felt a few stray tears escape my eyes, and pulled a hand off one of the chains to brush them away. I continued swinging for a few more minutes, hoping that it would calm me down, but I just got even sadder as time dragged on. I met Mike on these swings, I thought. We were best friends. I loved him. Now that we don’t talk… he’s just a ghost. I jumped off the swings and took a few seconds to reorient myself, glancing down at my shoes.

But then, I heard a faint rumbling across the pavement, and looked up from the ground to see a tall figure skateboarding down the sidewalk. Oh my god. It was Mike. Mike was here. Mike was… out of the house? Oh my god, Mike was skateboarding at night in my direction. I felt panic rise into my throat and suddenly felt the urge to throw up again. I had to hide. Fuck, I really had to hide, because Mike was getting closer and closer and I was in no condition to talk to him.

I dashed across the playground, trying my best to stay as quiet and as low to the ground as possible in order to not be seen. I managed to reach the metal slide and crouched behind it, raising my head the slightest bit upwards so I could see over the edge of it. Hawkins still hadn’t replaced that damn slide, even after all the times my friends and I had burnt our asses in the ninety degree summer heat throughout our elementary school days.

As Mike approached the playground, he skidded his skateboard to a stop and paused to look around, probably making sure he was the only one there. His head turned in my direction, and I prayed my reflexes were quick enough as I escaped his line of sight. They thankfully seemed to suffice as I heard the wheels of his board begin to roll once again. I peeked over the edge of the slide like the creep I was and watched Mike skate in circles around the basketball court. His long black hair was covered by a beanie, but was still long enough to flow gracefully behind him. God, he was beautiful. Just as beautiful as I remembered. I missed him. You know what? Screw it, I’m gonna talk to him, I thought. I’m going to make things right between us. Against my better judgment, I stood up and made my way over to Mike.

He caught a glimpse of me in his peripheral vision and had to do a double take before jumping off his board to walk over to me. We both watched it roll away and fall off the pavement and into the grass before turning back to each other.

“Will,” he was the first to speak. It felt like a whole century had passed since I’d last heard him say my name, and I’d forgotten how much I loved hearing it.

“Mike.” I looked up at Mike then, taking in the entirety of his appearance. He had dark circles under his eyes, and judging by his oily scalp, he looked like he hadn’t showered in days.

“How have you been?” he asked me. Typical Mike, I thought, always wondering how I’m doing. Then again, he was just asking a simple question found in most conversations, I was nothing special.

“I’m doing alright,” I replied, shoving my hands into my jean pockets. “How are you?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

He’s been like this since August, so… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.

“... Not particularly, no.”

We stood there for a few seconds in silence, unsure of what to say. I decided to speak first this time around. “So… how are things in Indy?”

Mike scoffed then, closing his eyes tightly in frustration. “You know, the least you can do is fucking apologize.” He was right; I’d left things on a horrible note, and had yet to mention anything about our fight.

“I know, Mike, I’m s–”

“No,” Mike cut me off, his gaze hardening. “You’re only sorry because I prompted it.”

“Says the one who expected me to just accept the fact that he was in love with me and not question his integrity after finding twenty six love letters in his bedroom.”

“You shouldn’t have read those.”

“You shouldn’t have left them out!”

“Well, I was a fucking dumbass, what else is new?”

“Well, so am I, then, because I had finally convinced myself that you didn’t love me, just for you to go and turn my whole world upside down!” Neither of us even noticed or reacted to the unintentional pun.

“I do love you, Will,” Mike’s voice softened as it always did, and he took a step closer to me as he spoke. “I do. What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

“Kiss me,” I replied.

Mike groaned at that, rolling his eyes as he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “What do you mean, kiss me? I did kiss you that day, and you–”

“But you only did it because I prompted it,” I shot Mike’s words right back at him, and he could only blink. “If you really love me, you’ll prove it to me by kissing me for real. No leading me on and letting me down. No goddamn love letters. Just… kiss me.”

He took a deep breath then, his eyes meeting mine once again and his expression turning into a determined resolve. “You want me to kiss you for real?” Mike whispered, closing the remaining distance between us. “I’ll show you real.”

The sound of Mike’s skateboard violently smacking against the pavement brought me back to reality. I was still hidden behind the slide. I ran my hands over my face, rubbing my fingertips against the corners of my eyes. I was so exhausted that my imagination had gone off the rails.

I needed to go get some sleep. But Mike was in the way of my route home, and I was not prepared to pass him on my bike just to get stopped and forced to have an awkward, real-life encounter with him. What if I just… took the next street over? I thought to myself. That could work. But… where did I leave my… bike. My bike rested on its side against the swingset, clear on the other side of the park. I’d forgotten how far I’d wandered away from it, and wondered briefly how Mike couldn’t have seen it yet. I glanced back over to the basketball court at… Mike. Who wasn’t there.

“You stalking me, Byers?” I heard from above me, and even though my mind had deducted that that he had spotted me behind the slide, my heart still jumped at the sight of Mike looming over me. I stood up, brushing the accumulated woodchips off my knees from kneeling.

“You caught me, Wheeler,” I chuckled, and Mike smiled back.

“How have you been?” he asked me. Typical Mike, I thought, always wondering how I’m doing. Then again, he was just asking a simple question found in most conversations, I was nothing special.

“I’m doing alright,” I replied, shoving my hands into my jean pockets. “How are you?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

He’s been like this since August, so… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, rocking back and forth on my feet a few times. “All of this is my fault. It’s my fault you’re like this.”

“Yeah. It kind of is.”

“I shouldn’t have blown up on you like that. If I hadn’t, then maybe all of this could have been…” I faltered, and Mike shook his head.

“There was no avoiding it, Will,” he said. “I went about it all wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I should have taken the time to explain to you–”

“But you did explain, that’s the thing,” I said. “I was just too caught up in my own anger and confusion to notice–”

“I don’t blame you for being angry and confused,” Mike told me, and I looked up to notice tears welling up in his eyes. “I was angry and confused at myself for my inability to tell you the truth about how I felt. It scared the shit out of me.”

I couldn’t help but reach up then, resting my hand against his cheek and swiping the tears away. He let out a small sniffle and lifted his eyes from the ground to meet mine. They say that the eyes are windows to the soul; the pain in his eyes sent me right back to that day of our mutual heartbreak, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I lifted my other hand to hold the other side of his face, and ran my thumbs over his cheeks once more before I—

Heard someone yell, “Ow, fuck!” knocking me out of my daze of delusion once again. I looked up and saw that Mike had fallen off his board, and was laying on the pavement on his back, unmoving. For a moment, I feared that he’d knocked himself out, but relief flooded my body when I saw him reach his hands up to his head and run his fingers through his hair with a groan. He didn’t get up, though, so I hesitantly rose from my position on the ground and approached Mike slowly. He noticed my shadow and whipped his head in my direction, eyes wide. He looked stupified, unable to find the words to say to me. Not like I could have done any better.

I knelt down next to him, and couldn’t help it when my breath hitched. Mike looked gorgeous from this angle, in the moonlight, below me. I felt something primal within myself awaken, letting a low noise escape my throat as I let my body take over. I crawled a bit closer to Mike, reading his expression for any stop signs. And then… I pounced.

A shiver went down my spine, shaking me out of my hopefully last scenario. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but my knees were starting to hurt from crouching behind the slide. I pulled my hands off the rail of the slide to rub my freezing cold palms together.

“Goddamnit!” Mike shouted at the night sky, which had turned a light grey with the snow that had begun to fall over the park. I blinked a few stray snowflakes out of my eyes and pulled my hood up, preparing to sprint across the park, grab my bike, and go. All the cardio training I’d done over the past semester had to have been done for a purpose. And this was it.

I took a few deep breaths, about to make a run for it, when I heard a high pitched whine come from the direction of the basketball court. I took one last glance over to Mike, who was reaching into his pocket and pulling out… was that a flask? My suspicions were confirmed when he unscrewed the top and tipped his head all the way back as he proceeded to chug the whole thing in a few seconds. Oh god.

He’s been like this since August, so… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.

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gingerjunhan · 3 days

Text

dirty little secret (pt.2) - kwak jiseok

☆彡 Part to is now here!! Sorry it took so long- I had to finish a year of college! Haha!

word count: 1,723 | pronouns used: none | genre: slight angst, then suggestive, then fluffy, college!au | cws: toxic relationship kinda, swearing, drinking, drugs (mentioned), make out session, lmk if I missed something!!

part one here!!

Since dumping Jiseok, you’ve come to the unfortunate conclusion that you live on a college campus- thus meaning that you see him everywhere. He was in your organic chemistry class, he was on sports teams, and that stupid band he and his buddies made just had to be good. It made you furious- of course he had to be a campus celebrity. Everybody knew him, and of course, they all thought he was the sweetest guy ever. It was infuriating.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” Your friend urged, “You’ve been hung up on this all week!”

“So?” You rolled your eyes, “Am I not allowed to hate the campus golden boy?” You were strewn across your friend's dorm room bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to forget the events of the week.

“You can be mad all you want,” your friend continued, “but you cannot let it ruin our evening.”

You pulled your head up. “What do you mean?”

Your friend looked back at you, giving you a cheeky smile. “I got invited to a party and I was told I could bring a friend if I wanted.”

“No way,” you shake your head, letting it fall back down again. “You know that isn’t my scene.”

“Come on, (Y/N)...” your friend whined. “So a guy was an asshole to you one time? So what!? There will always be more boys, so why don’t we go out tonight and try to find you someone better?”

Despite your reluctance to spend your evening in a room full of drunken strangers, finding a new man to occupy your thoughts for a while didn’t sound like a bad idea.

You let out a groan of compliance, “Fine… I’ll come along.”

Your friend let out a cheer and pulled you up off the mattress, tearing you from your state of sulking. “Come on! Let’s find you an outfit!”

☆

The party was in full swing by the time you had arrived. “Fashionably late,” as your friend said. Once inside, your friend gave you a smile.

“Do you want a drink?” They asked with a giggle.

You gave it some thought. Did you normally drink? No. Has this week been a normal week? Also no. “Sure,” you reply with a small smile. Your friend beams at you, offering up a quick “I’ll be right back!” before disappearing into the crowd.

You weren’t always the most social, and you can count the number of parties you’ve been to on one hand. So now that you were left to your own devices, you did what many would argue you do best: awkwardly wait around and really say much. You kept to yourself, finding an interest in the wood grain of the floor, trying to decide what sort of alcohol had been spilled a few feet away from you based on its color. However, your trance of trying to decipher the alcohol content of the floor was rudely interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Well I never assumed you’d be a partier.”

Fuck. You turned around to see Jiseok behind you with a smug look on his face and a drink in his hand.

“And I thought I’d never have to talk to you again,” you say sarcastically. “Looks like tonight is full of surprises.” You rolled your eyes and turned around, planning on making your way to the kitchen to find your friend.

Once inside the kitchen, your friend thrusts a drink into your hand and looks at you wide eyed. “Were you just talking with Jiseok?”

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “He cracked some stupid joke about me being here.” You took a sip of your drink. It tasted like lemonade.

“Well what did you say?” Your friend asked.

“Something to get him to shut up, hopefully,” a voice chimed in from a few feet away before you could answer. The two of you turned to see Jungsu leaning on a counter in the kitchen, with Gunil sitting on the counter next to him hoarding a bowl of chips from the rest of the party-goers.

“What do you mean?” You asked them.

“He won’t stop talking about you,” Gunil spoke, his mouth full of chips. Jungsu grimaced at his poor manners.

“Ever since you dumped him he’s done nothing but nope around at rehearsals,” Jungsu added.

“You knew we were dating?”

“Yeah,” he continued. “But not until it was too late. He showed up really upset the one day, so when we asked what was wrong he told us the story. We all told him that it was his fault.” Gunil nodded next to him. You had only spoken to Jungsu once- maybe twice- so you were shocked by his honesty.

“Besides,” Gunil chimed in. “You’re pretty hot, so that’s his loss.” Gunil laughed loudly before eating some more chips. Jungsu rolled his eyes.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” he sighed. “I’m his babysitter for the evening and I accidentally let him have one too many.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Between Gunil’s drunken banter, and knowing that Jiseok also wanted you back, you had to admit that you were starting to feel a little better. “You really blamed him?” You asked.

“Oh yeah,” the two boys said in unison.

“I don’t really know why he thought we would care who he dates. It’s not really our business,” Jungsu said simply. “We shouldn’t determine who he dates.”

“Well Jooyeon didn’t seem too fond of me,” you say as you take another sip of your drink. Jungsu laughed dryly.

“Honestly, Jooyeon is high most of the time. He claims it’s to “mellow him out,” but I think it just makes him more of a bitch,” he snorted. “Whatever he said or did to you wasn’t intentional. Promise.”

You turn to your friend (who you now notice has been eyeing Jungsu up the whole time) and shrug, silently asking what your next move should be.

“Don’t look at me,” they add quickly. “This is all up to you- but definitely give it some thought. Would you really want to date a guy who was too embarrassed to tell people you were together?”

You sigh. While, yes, that is a good point, you really can’t help but feel drawn to Jiseok again. Like a moth to a flame, you felt a little too willing to risk getting burnt again. So, despite your better judgment, you left the kitchen to go find Jiseok again.

When you found him, Jiseok was reffing a game of beer pong. Next to him, was Jooyeon who, low and behold, was high as a kite.

“Jiseok,” you called from the doorway. He instinctively looked in your direction, and you waved him over with a stern look on your face. “We need to talk.” Jooyeon gave him an annoyed look, but after some whispered words between them, Jiseok made his way over to you.

“What’s up?” He asked, voice soft compared to the noise of the room.

“I want an apology,” you stated simply. “A real one.”

He paused, looking in your eyes and clearly trying to collect himself. Maybe you were imagining it, but for a split second he looked genuinely upset. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

You shook your head, “Fine.” Jiseok led you through the house and into a bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it. He took a deep breath before looking you in the eye again.

“(Y/N),” he began, “Listen… I… I’m so sorry,” he said with a twinge of sadness in his voice. “Really, I am. What I did was wrong and unfair to you. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way.”

“Then why did you do it?” You ask. “Why make me feel bad for being myself?”

Your words seem to strike a chord in him, and he’s at a loss for words for a second. “I… I don’t know,” he admits softly. “I’m sorry.” A sigh escapes his lips after you don’t respond. He looks to the floor. “Can I make it up to you? Please?”

“Make it up to me?” You ask. “How?”

The small twinge of sadness that you saw mere moments ago in Jiseok’s eyes was replaced with something else now. Something darker that you weren’t quite sure you’ve ever seen before. He took a step closer to you, placing a hand on your hip.

“Please,” he mumbled as he leaned closer to you, the scent of alcohol lingering in his breath, “Let me fix this.” Against both of your better judgements, Jiseok’s lips land on yours, with one hot kiss slowly transforming into many. His breath mixed with yours as your lips chased each other’s. The lemonade taste that lingered on your tongue soon mixed with whatever was on his. “I wanna take you out again,” he sighed between kisses. “Wanna let everyone know that you’re mine.”

You sighed into his mouth, now grasping at his shoulders. “You mean it this time?”

He pulls away from your mouth, looking you in the eye. He takes a deep breath before speaking, and you choose to ignore the wandering thought in the back of your head that wants to know if he’s just catching his breath or buying time before he answers. He begins to nod slowly. “Yeah,” he says breathlessly, blinking at you. “I’m serious.”

You smile, about to lean in again when the doorknob to the bathroom jiggles.

“We’re busy!” Jiseok calls, leaning in and capturing your lips again.

“C’mon man! I gotta take a piss!”

Jiseok pulled away for you with a sigh at the sound of Gunil’s drunken voice. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but laugh. Jiseok took his hands off of you, making his way to the door and unlocking it. “Great timing,” he said sarcastically.

“Thanks,” Gunil sneered back. “Now move.” He shoved past him, making his way into the bathroom, which you quickly took as an indication to get out. Once outside, you and Jiseok turned to each other, and laughter bubbles out of your chest once again. Jiseok shook his head, wrapping an arm around your waist and heading back out to the main rooms of the party.

“I’m really surprised you just let me kiss you like that,” Jiseok marveled.

“What did I tell you?” You smiled over at him, “tonight is full of surprises.”

taglist: @mon2sunjinsuver , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , @odesonnets , @weluvjeong , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #xdinary heroes fanfic #gaon x reader #gaon fluff

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meiideryz · 1 day

Text

sounds of strings.

pairing: liu yangyang x reader

length: 2.68k

synopsis: yangyang is a man who would completely back off from people his friends like, but not this one.

tags: alternative universe, rock band au, wayv ensemble, unrequited love, rockstar!yangyang ft. hendery, one-sided attraction, implied pining, house partying, yangyang is head over heels for you consented drunk kissing, slight heavy make-out session, alcohol consumption, mentions of vulgar/foul words.

note: the plot idea came from my sibling who intended to make this as a xhy social media au to be posted on another platform (if you are interested in reading it, please anticipate later on in twitter!), so i was granted permission to write their favorite part of the plot to see how it would turn out, and here it is!

yangyang couldn't understand why every person he knows is so drawn to him but not you.

he was that rockstar who played his maroon matted electric guitar in big bars to perform on stage. he was that rockstar that everyone would talk about in broad daylight. he loved the way people would get excited seeing him at his gigs and get asked to take pictures with him.

but the fact that out of all people, you don't show interest in him in the slightest bit upsets him.

one of his friends was hosting a party later tonight, and he was asked to perform at their place. yangyang made sure to dress nicely in case you were coming to see him perform.

when he and his band arrived, you were already there chilling in the backyard; drinking, talking, having fun with your friends. wanting to approach you, he took a step forward with a gentle smile on his face that was completely wiped off as soon as his other band member snaked his arm around your waist. the man holding you closer to an intimate position which led you to place your palms on his chest.

“hey, beautiful.”

right, he exactly understood why you never had interest in him.

he had no choice but to watch hendery spew out sweet words to you. he stared at your reddened cheeks, letting out a nervous breathy laugh while the man before you held you still with a hand on your hip.

“we’re about to perform, cheer for me?” the way hendery held eye contact with you was long and arousing. yangyang couldn’t handle watching anymore, tearing his eyes away from the scene, leaving the band member alone.

as he walked towards the set where they were gonna perform, the sound of short breaths coming from his back until a hand grabbed on his shoulders to stop him.

“why'd you leave me there?” hendery asked, there was laughter in his tone, which made yangyang roll his eyes. he took the maroon electric guitar in his grasp before turning on the amplifier beside him to adjust the sounds.

“jealous, perhaps?” a question that kept him still in his spot.

yangyang knew he was trying to insinuate things, but he also knew that he wasn't wrong for that. although his friend had his eyes for you, yangyang wanted you, too- despite how impossible it was considering the fact that you were at the brink of being wrapped around hendery’s finger.

“i don't have time for that,” prompted him, his tone sounded harsh and rude, but the latter never questioned. “you know, what i want you to do right now is to get the others. we'll be performing in 10 minutes.” completely deviating from the topic, a sigh left the latter's lips before leaving the guitarist alone in the area to set up the instruments.

when yangyang performed on stage, he scanned the crowd in search of you because seeing you always left him in excitement, thrill, and motivation. he wanted to impress you so much that during their performance, he turned the volume knob up to blast the sounds of his electric guitar, purposely overpowering the other instruments being showcased by his band mates. they would give him stares, but he didn’t care.

what matters to yangyang is that everyone would get on their feet and jump to the beat, and there he could see you, just watching the band perform.

his heart raced, finally getting your attention as you stared at him. it saddened him by how impassive you were, and to fix that, he flashed you a smile before going back to strum his fingers on the strings of the instrument. his charismatic image sparked the performance, causing the people to remarkably cheer for the band that gave him a content look on his face. yangyang grinned when you looked away, as he wondered if your cheeks heated up under the flashing color fairy lights shining and blinking above.

by the time they were finished, the band got off stage to have their time to rest too. hendery left to get the drinks, ten followed to get the food, and kun thanked the host for letting them perform at their house party.

the rockstar sat in one of the tables in the corner while the next performing band played a soothing jazz genre in the background. a helmet resting beside his clothed thigh while he thumbed over the motor gloves he was wearing in his hands. he inspected the area, finally looking in your direction at the other side of the yard as he watched you talking to your friends. he was so fixated on you, and wondered why you didn't feel the same.

moments passed after casually having a conversation with kun, his eyes found their way back to the direction where you previously were, only to find no one.

he looked back at the latter, “hey uhm, i'm going back inside, really need to use the restroom right now.”

getting the chance to excuse himself, he headed inside the house through the crowd. the pulsating of his heart throbbed from the loud beats coming from the speaker that is somewhere around the room that didn't matter to him.

walking through the crowds was such a hassle to get to the other room, his voice low and soft as he gently pushed through people. it took him a while to do so, the room was illuminated by led lights so it was hard for him to find the exit area to the next room with such minimal source of light.

once he arrived at the corridor, the roaring sounds of screaming filled the room next to him. of course, hendery's voice can't go unnoticed. yangyang exhaled, walking past the door, not feeling the need to come inside and deal with the latter's drunken state. he then continued to find where the restroom is. it could possibly be upstairs, but he might end up witnessing something that he shouldn't need or might regret seeing.

avoiding the 2nd floor, he continued searching for an available restroom. when he finally found one, he wasted no second getting inside, instantly reminding himself that he got here with a motorbike, and he couldn't risk getting into an accident from drinking too much. yangyang faced the dirty mirror that was filled with smudges of fingerprints and lipsticks. not that he minded it, it was a party after all, he expected these to happen in a house party.

opening the faucet, he removed the leather gloves from each hand, placing it aside before gathering a normal amount of water in his palms, splashing it to his face to try and sober himself up. he repeated the procedure several more times before wiping his face with a clean towel he found in the drawers.

as he was about to turn off the faucet, the door beside him swung open. startling the rockstar, he reacted quickly, backing away from the door with a wide-eyed expression. then the look on his face softened, finding you holding onto the doorknob.

he watched as your legs couldn't hold you up anymore, with one step your body launching forward to the ground. “fuck!” yangyang instinctively held his arms out to catch you, preventing you from falling on the floor.

“i got you, i got you.” he repeated, assuring you in an embrace where you nuzzled yourself in his chest, letting out a laugh as your hands were placed around his shoulders. he heard you slur, telling him how good he was at playing the guitar, following with how good he was with his fingers. yangyang felt like his mind was going blank, hearing some very vulgar words you were whispering to him that he wouldn't even dare to think about.

you really were that drunk.

yangyang's cheeks heated up, shifting in his position to hold you properly in his arms. “god, what have you been drinking this whole time?”

“red juice,” you beamed in between hiccups and sniffles. because of the proximity, yangyang couldn't help but feel his heart race at how close you were to him. you were really pretty up close and he wished he could just stare at you for how long he wanted— but you needed help right now and gaping at you wasn’t the best option in this situation.

“hey, let’s get you sober up, okay?” his arms moved down to your thighs, holding it firmly before lifting you up to place you on the restroom counter. your hands never parted away from his neck, instead, you interlock your hands together as you keep clinging onto him, making it harder for yangyang to actually help you.

“look, i’m trying to help you here,” he sighed, his hands going up to clasp around your wrists, trying to pull it down. “your friends might also be looking for you.”

“i don’t care.” you responded, following with a hiccup leaving your lips. “i’m here with you, and that’s all that matters.”

even if yangyang wanted to believe that, you were drunk. he knew what you were like towards him if you weren’t wasted at all with all that drinking. he did wish that there was more to what you stated, as some people said that one’s true feelings unveil when they’re under the influence.

“y-you’re drunk, you don't mean that.” he tried to pull your arms away from him for the second time, only for you to pull him closer.

yangyang's breath hitched, finding himself entangled in an embrace with his face inches to yours, the invitation of your lips tempting him to close the gap.

he composed himself, his arms caging in between your body as his palms rested on the counter to balance himself. as much as the desire was kicking in, he wouldn't do such a thing to you especially of how intoxicated you were, your vulnerability lay bare before him.

“come on, i need to help you and you need to help yourself. we’ve been here for god knows how long and people might start looking for—”

a pair of lips brushed against his. his completely blown pupils dilating at the action as the way you slid your tongue against his bottom lip melted him entirely, his soul leaving his body at that very moment.

yangyang was a nervous trainwreck at this point, not sure whether to push you away or to reciprocate. no matter how much he wanted you so bad, he wouldn’t want to be in conflict with someone who also liked you, especially hendery. he was a man who would completely back off from people his friends like, but not this one. the drummer had already expressed to the rest of the band that he liked you for too long, yet how he craved for your flavored chapstick smearing over his lips, your mouth driving him insane, and shared breaths between kisses was something he yearned for in every way.

he had fallen hook, line, and sinker.

fuck it, hendery won’t know.

it didn't take long before yangyang returned the kiss. he fluttered his eyes closed as he matched the pace of your lips while his hands traveling to grip the sides of your hips to hold you still. he wasn't so sure anymore if he was still sober, but one thing he is certain is how much he felt drunk from the make-out session.

the air around him turned hot, and somehow your hands were now on his hair, tugging it lightly, pulling him closer. his nails digging into the cloth covering your skin. how he wanted to get that thing away, but he eventually didn't as he just wanted to concentrate on your lips over his.

it was merely a perfect mold to his. both lips moved with such passion and hunger for each other as your tongue slipped into his mouth with ease, causing the rockstar to let out a breathy moan.

he felt his heart thumping against his ribs and your chest the more you tried to close the gap between you. the rhythm of both lips turned sloppy, messy, and fiery, craning his neck to deepen the kiss. yangyang knew that once he broke the kiss, he would never get to feel your lips on his again— yet his lungs were screaming at him, begging and seeking for air.

yangyang's chest heaved up and down, finally abandoning your lips to catch his own breath. his sweaty forehead covered in his bangs rested against yours, completely worn out and drained while his hot breath fanned over your mouth.

“you know, you and i are going to regret this when we wake up tomorrow.” he mumbled through exhales. you laughed in return, and it was such a pleasant sound for the rockstar.

an hour passed by and everyone soon left the party, including you. yangyang carried his things to the truck of kun’s car along with the other instruments and equipment. he gave a double pat on the shiny steel of the vehicle. “there you go, take care of roxanne for me.”

kun scrunched his nose up at the name, an eyebrow raised while looking at him. “roxanne?”

“my guitar.”

“...right.” kun's gaze went back to the front window of his car, the key that was inside the ignition key was pulled back out after he had started the engine. yangyang could see hendery and ten's sleeping silhouette in the backseat through the tinted windows, tired after all the performing, eating, and drinking.

“where were you a while ago? i was looking for you after i found out you've been gone for too long,” the former questioned, which made the latter feel a lump in his throat.

“sorry,” he apologized, “i went up to the balcony to use some stig.”

“oh, well...are you coming with us?” kun asked, hands gripped on the stirring wheel. yangyang refused, waving his hands at him and indicating the three to leave without the rockstar. “i came with my motorbike, i'd be fine alone.” signaling them to go, kun made no second thoughts before driving away from the party, leaving him alone with his motorcycle just around the corner.

he walked back into the backyard where he found his friend and other people cleaning up the area, picking up the used cups and plates on the grass. his hand grasped onto the helmet that he left a while ago during the party as he carefully placed it on his head, adjusting the helmet so that it wasn't too loose nor too tight to wear.

“i’ll get going, thank you!” he yelled out, calling his friend's attention, to which the latter smiled, acting out a salute gesture to acknowledge his presence and bid farewell.

yangyang set his foot out to leave the house, and there he saw his motorcycle at the side that awaited him. he made sure to look at the road before crossing, not wanting to run into some vehicles like he did last time.

the keys in his pants jingled as he took it out, inserting it into the ignition to start the engine of his motorbike. he ensured that his extra helmet was inside the storage under his seat before hopping on, and once he did, he left the area.

he crashed into his bed by the time he arrived at his apartment, and when he woke up this morning, his head throbbed from the massive hangover he had last night. he found himself tucked with the velvet covers of his mattress, his throat dry and itchy, and the oppressive force of his headache squeezing his head tightly.

his phone that was on the nightstand next to him was filled with notifications of messages from his friends. he was met with a video clip that was sent to him and some screenshots of people commenting under the video that was uploaded in a social media platform.

then his heart dropped, watching the video of you and hendery kissing each other at the party last night.

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jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka · 3 days

Text

Part 3!! I had a good time writing this chapter as well, and it’s another doozy. Hope you enjoy!

Pairings: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner ***slash

Warnings and tags: 18+ only please!! Adult themes including: very brief mention of past partner death, very brief mention of marriage problems, some crying, some insecurity, my sad attempt at flirting, very slight suggestive talk, dad Jake AU, uncle Danny

Word count: 5.5k

Mondays were hard for everybody, but this particular Monday seemed to be kicking Jake in the ass.

First he spilled coffee all over his pants so he had to change after already being a little behind on getting up and getting both himself and Luna ready. That made them end up at the back of the line for drop off at the elementary.

He was speeding over to the office after getting her to school. Normally it wouldn’t matter so much if he came in a little late, but someone had the bright idea of scheduling a meeting at nine am on a Monday and he still needed to go over a few things with his team before it started.

They had a big fundraiser coming up soon that he’d spent nearly six months preparing for. One of the local orchestras had offered to put on a concert and donate the ticket sales to the foundation. The event wasn’t going to be too big, but they had managed to secure a guest singer, a couple of soloist, and even a live band to agree to play afterwards while they had drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

Jake was excited about this particular fundraiser because the sales and any extra donations were going to go to giving students private music lessons, a program he’d been working on launching for quite a while now.

Though Jake had been working for the foundation for a few years already, this was the first project he’d put so much of himself into, feeling particularly strongly about the accessibility of musical education for children as a passionate musician with a child himself.

Even after his wife’s passing, Jake’s home was still filled with music to share with his daughter. His record collection specifically ranged anywhere from dusty old vinyls he had inherited from his parents house, to mint condition collectibles and limited editions he probably never would have found without his connections. His prized possessions however, were the first pressings of his and June’s album when it first came out.

The few copies they’d kept for themselves stayed tucked safely away on the corner of the highest shelf where they sat untouched since her passing, Jake still too tender to hear her voice again. Someday though he knew Luna would want to listen to them, and he only prayed he would have himself prepared enough by then.

By the time the meeting was over Jake decided to head back out for an early lunch. With the rush to get out the door this morning he hadn’t packed anything to eat so he decided to treat himself at his favorite restaurant- a spot he didn’t frequent too often since it was in what he considered to be a sketchier part of town.

Since it was just him he didn’t mind making the drive over, at least that was until his dashboard suddenly lit up with about three different warning lights. Of course he would be having car trouble today of all days.

With an annoyed huff Jake pulled over to the side of the road, leaving his car running because he was too scared that if he turned it off now he wouldn’t be able to get it back on. Being a little unfamiliar with his surroundings he pulled out his phone and googled where the nearest service shop was, finding one simply called Rudy’s Custom Auto just up the road he’d hoped would do the trick quickly and without charging too much.

His car managed to make it to the mechanic in one piece- though the sputtering of the engine misfiring was about to give him a heart attack.

The shop was nothing more than two bays behind old garage doors with a small office attached to the side. One of the bays was already occupied by an old body truck stripped of all its paint and covered in multiple patches of bondo. Jake pulled up to the next bay and waited a moment for someone to come out.

When nobody came he braved turning off his car, gripping the keys tightly in his palm as he slowly tread into the open garage. Once he stuck his head in he saw a pair of dirty work boots on the other side of the truck, but the dated stereo system that sat on top the workbench on the far wall kept the person at work from hearing Jake arrive. Jake cleared his throat and called out above the sound of Steely Dan playing loudly, “hello? Are you open?”

“You scared the shit out of me!” The person inside answered him, then their boots started to make their way around the front of the truck.

Jake stood awkwardly at the threshold of the doorway, waiting to see what kind of character worked at a place like this, but oddly enough he felt like he’d heard their voice from somewhere.

“What can I do for you?” They asked with their back towards Jake as they paused to turn down the stereo. Finally he turned around and a huge smile spread across his face when they both realized who it was. Danny was just as shocked to see Jake here as he was, but he also looked really excited.

“You work here?” Jake asked, thinking it was a stupid question as soon as it slipped out. Of course Danny worked here, he was standing inside the shop in a pair of navy dickies covered in oil and white dust with a just as dirty white t-shirt (this one without any modifications to it) tucked into his waistband and tightly stretched across his chest and arms.

“Off and on. Rudy’s a friend of mine he lets me do some body work when I need a job”.

“Oh,” Jake looked around the shop aimlessly, mostly just trying to keep from staring at the tattoo he now knew peaked out just underneath Danny’s sleeve. “There’s umm… something wrong with my car. Could you take a look at it?”

“Well, I’m not much of a mechanic but Rudy is out on lunch right now. For you though I could do some digging around and see if I can’t at least figure out what your problem is”.

Jake knew Danny was giving him special service as he lifted the hood and bent over into the engine. He never once thought having an admirer would come with many perks, but as he stood with his arms folded loosely across his chest as Danny checked hoses and looked for leaks the frustration towards the whole situation started to wear away. By some strange stroke of fate the car he so tediously took care of, nearly never missing an oil change, happened to break down in the same neighborhood he had no idea Danny worked in.

“Hey! Don’t break it any more!” Jake hollered, stepping up next to Danny to see what all the banging around he was doing was.

“I think I might know what it is” Danny popped his head back out, startling Jake as he suddenly came face to face with the other man. Another shock came when Danny grabbed his hand and shoved it down into the engine. “Feel that?”

Jake wanted to rip his hand away, all he could feel right now was the residual heat from the parts around his forearm, his fingers blindly searching for what Danny may be talking about, and the way his chest pressed against his shoulder as they both leaned over so Jake’s shorter arm could reach. Finally he felt the warm liquid and realized the smell he got a whiff of was gasoline.

“Must have a leak in your fuel injectors” Danny backed away, letting Jake pull his own hand out and offered him a rag from his back pocket to wipe it off with. “Gonna be a bitch to get replaced. Let me call Rudy see if he has any spare parts otherwise he can pick some up on his way back”.

Jake wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, not being too familiar with the inner workings of an engine himself, but he figured he should probably start making some calls of his own starting with work. After letting them know he probably wasn’t going to make it back from lunch Danny came walking out of the shop again.

“Good news, he can get the parts and he’s on his way back. Bad news, I could only sweet talk him down to a couple hundred bucks”.

“Right! Of course that’s fine, let me just-” Jake bent over back into his front seat, bracing himself on the cushion with one arm as he searched the console for his wallet. After a few seconds of not finding it he was struck with the realization that he’d had his wallet in his pants this morning. The ones he spilt coffee all over. “Fuck” he grumbled to himself, backing out of the car to see Danny looking away quickly. Was he staring?

“Well actually, I think I left my wallet at home. This Rudy guy doesn’t take ApplePay does he?”

Danny chuckled and shook his head, “no, this is not the kind of place for that. Don’t worry I’ve got you”.

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that” Jake tried to quickly figure out how he could get the money before Rudy returned. Maybe he could call Josh to swing by his house and get his wallet, or bring some cash. Fuck how long was this going to take anyways? He might have to ask Josh to pick up Luna from school too.

While Jake’s mind was racing Danny turned around and walked back into the shop to get back to work on the sanding he was doing before Jake happened to show up.

“Let me see what my brother is up to right now, he might be able to bring me some cash. How much exactly is it?” Jake followed Danny inside this time, not paying much attention to where he was going as he pulled his phone out.

Abruptly he was stopped when Danny’s hands wrapped around his forearms and pulled him out of the way before Jake could walk into a tool box sitting in the middle of the floor. He looked around the inside of the shop now, seeing the entire place was quite a disheveled mess. Tools were everywhere between the ground and the workbench, and oil pans that looked like they’d been used one too many times were piled into the corner of the second bay. It was like navigating a minefield to get somewhere he could stand and wait.

“I said don’t worry about it” Danny replied once he had Jake situated in a safe place. “Besides there are plenty of ways you can pay me back”. Danny gave Jake a flirtatious wink from where he sat back on his rolling stool on the other side of the truck.

“Excuse me?” Jake scoffed, too astounded by Danny’s suggestive response to focus on making the phone call now.

“Yeah, like a date” Danny continued as he picked up his scrap of sandpaper and started to go over his most recent bondo covered spot.

“A date?” Jake blinked a few times, wondering if he’d heard him right since the radio was still playing quietly in the background. “You want me to take you on a date?”

“Well I was going to say let me take you on a date” Danny chuckled again, keeping his eyes focused on his work, “but if you want to take me out I’m not at all opposed to that either”.

“I- I mean- ” Jake was stumbling over his words, in utter disbelief and embarrassed by his lack of composure right now. He didn’t understand what had gotten into him.

“What? Are you not into guys or something?” Danny let his eyes flicker back over to Jake this time, catching a slight blush creep into his cheeks.

“No, that’s not it…” Jake replied sheepishly. It was true, from a young age he didn’t put much thought into sexuality or gender for that matter. He was always more attracted to the person and how deep of a connection he could make rather than just what was on the surface. Though he’d never actually dated someone of the same sex before, it was never out of the question for him.

“Then what is it?”

The sound of Danny’s sanding stopped as he waited patiently for a response. He had a suspicion he knew where Jake’s reservations were rooted from, having already heard a few details, but he hoped Jake would feel comfortable enough to tell him himself.

“Dates have been hard for me,” Jake began, fiddling with the rim of his phone case to distract himself from mentally screaming stop shut up if you tell him he will only pity you- “since my wife died a few years ago”.

“I know,” Danny replied without hesitation, making Jake realize- of course he knew, his sister was one of Jake’s closest friends, “and I’d respect your boundaries if you said it was still too soon”.

Jake leaned against the work bench behind him and let his head fall backwards, huffing a breath out through his nose, staring up at the ceiling as he thought for a moment. His eyes felt dry and prickly, but he absolutely could not tear up right now. No he’d told himself a long time ago that he was done with that.

Danny seemed to be one step ahead of him on this, already understanding what he was getting himself into when asking Jake for a date. “What if I said it wasn’t too soon?”

“Hmm?” Danny didn’t quite make out his question, either because it was being directed towards the ceiling instead of him, or maybe because Jake was actually only asking himself.

“It’s not too soon” he rephrased as he looked back over at Danny again, a little more resolve in his demeanor. “Are you free this Friday night?”

Danny’s face lit up in a smile, having thought there for a moment Jake was going to officially tell him to fuck off. “I can be”.

A cocky reply, Jake thought, smirking himself a little. “Alright then. Friday night, I’ve got an event to go to. You can come”.

“An event? For your job?” Danny questioned in return as he once again got back to work. “Doesn’t sound like much of a date to me”.

“Look, do you want to come or not?”

“No, no, I’ll be there,” he assured him quickly, “thanks for inviting me”.

It’s not really like I had much of a choice. The truth was he could have declined, could have told Danny to shove it and stormed out of the shop to wait in his car for Rudy to return. He didn’t though, and there was possibly even a part of him who was excited he’d invited Danny.

Originally he was supposed to be going with Josh, but then his brother had something come up that weekend that he couldn’t get out of. Josh’s partner booked them a little mini vacation not realizing the dates conflicted with Jake’s concert, and the hotel and airfare were nonrefundable.

Jake promised him he didn’t mind, ‘It’s just going to be a local group playing a few songs, nothing too special. You guys go have fun’. He was more anxious about it than he’d led onto Josh though. At least now he wouldn’t be going alone and he’d have something to distract him if he got too nervous- Danny being easily very distracting.

“What are you even doing? You’ve been sanding the same spot this entire time” Jake tentatively stepped a little closer until Danny waved him over.

“I may not know too much about engines, but I know a lot about the body” Danny replied with a smugish half smile that made Jake roll his eyes. “Come here, you have to get right up close to see what I’m talking about”.

Jake moved to stand next to Danny, leaning over slightly as he stared at the white blob on the fender of the truck. Danny stood up and got behind him, barely grabbing at his waist as he positioned Jake to get the right angle. Jake’s body stiffened and froze, unused to being freely touched so often without any warning.

“You see how smooth it looks?” Danny muttered behind his ear making the hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stand up. “Run your hand across it now”. Jake did as he was told and placed his palm on the cold metal, feeling a small ripple as he swiped it slowly over the surface.

“You see sometimes things look perfect from the outside, but when you get your hands on it you find tiny little flaws. I’m a perfectionist, I’ve got to get every little dent and scratch out. Sometimes that takes days of just filling and sanding it back down until I run my hand across and it’s smooth as can be”.

“Doesn’t it get annoying?” Jake asked, thinking about how long and tedious that process must be.

“I’m very patient” Danny shrugged, letting go and sitting back on his stool.

Jake couldn’t help but let his mind wander in this moment as he watched Danny from just a foot away now. He wondered what Danny might think if he ever got an up close look at him. Sure maybe from the outside he looked put together, just like this fender solid and sturdy, but once he got his hands on him he’d be able to feel all his flaws- the cuts that dug deep into his very being and had scarred over.

Only about ten minutes later Rudy returned and Danny took a break from what he was doing to help get Jake’s car back in good working order. Thankfully they were done just in time for him to get to the school and pick up his daughter without having to call in reinforcements.

“Wait, could I get your number?” Danny stopped Jake before he could drive off, hoping but also confident that their fix worked. “So we can coordinate the date?”

Jake looked over Danny’s shoulder, seeing his boss tossing more tools around, not even bothering to clean up and not paying attention to what his employee was doing- clearly harassing customers. He gave him his number anyway, finding a text presumably from Danny when he got home. Just a simple wink face emoji.

Before he could save the number in his contact list though, Luna called for his help in the kitchen and he dropped his phone off on the bar. Completely forgetting about the little message left on read.

It wasn’t until Thursday night after he’d gotten off the phone with Josh that he received another text from the unknown number.

What should I be wearing tomorrow?

10:34PM

Jake waited a moment to reply, he’d just about concluded that maybe Danny had forgotten about the ‘date’ because he hadn’t heard from him since leaving Rudy’s shop Monday afternoon. When Danny didn’t show up to Wednesday’s soccer practice either Jake was a little discouraged, but he told himself to get over it. He walked Emma home and her mom looked like she’d had a rough day so Jake didn’t bother asking about her brother's whereabouts. Should he really care anyways?

Something nice but not too formal

10:48PM

No jeans and a crop top

10:49PM

Crop top?

11:00PM

Wait, that’s my favorite shirt

11:00PM

Good to know. Don’t wear it.

11:02PM

Ok I won’t, but you remember it?

11:02PM

Jake panicked for a second as he read the text. Why did he have to bring it up? Stupid mistake.

Danny continued to text while Jake stumbled for a reply, writing something out then thinking it sounded stupid and erasing it, knowing Danny was probably watching him type.

Did Luna see the video I sent her? Of the soccer ball slime? I thought she’d like that one

11:05PM

If Jake didn’t already feel awkward about bringing up the crop top, now he felt even sillier about having thought Danny had sent that video to him. Of course it was meant for Luna.

He debated not responding, just closing the messages app on his phone and going to sleep, but he knew that would be rude- a little white lie might be better.

Yes, she liked it

11:08PM

I’m glad, sorry I wasn’t at practice this week

11:09PM

Danny didn’t offer a reason why he was absent, but at least he’d thought to apologize. Not that he had to, it’s not like Jake was hoping to see him there or anything. Again he didn’t know what to say; it was getting late Danny had to know he was probably in bed right? Before he could reply again another text came in.

I’ll let you get to sleep. I’m excited to see you tomorrow. Good night Jake

11:11PM

Good night

11:12PM

Friday was a frenzy, hustling around between the office, the venue where the orchestra and band were getting to practice with the soloists for the last time before the show, and then home to get Luna ready to stay at Emma’s house while he was out.

The air was heavy at the venue when Jake left, some issues with sound they were able to get a tech to fix, and some tiny adjustments to the breaks in the program had everyone tense and on edge. Jake knew it was just pre show nerves though and he had full faith that the night was going to go over well.

The confidence in his peers didn’t exactly extend to himself however, as he held his breath when he rang the doorbell, Luna standing at his side excitedly.

“Daddy you’re going to a party?” She asked, ever curious about what he was up to.

“I’m going to a work party” he explained to her again, having already told her she was going alone to play at Emma’s house tonight for just a couple of hours.

“Will there be presents and cake there?”

“No presents, but there might be some cake. Do you want me to save you some?”

“Me and Emma?” She asked, grabbing his hand and looking up at her Dad with a pleading smile.

“Of course, I’ll bring you both some” he returned the smile down at her until the front door opened and she bounced inside off to find her friend.

“Thank you for watching her tonight” Jake told Emma’s mom as he waited around for Danny to show. He’d text him when he was on the way, offering a ride since he was coming over anyways.

“Of course any time” she kept the door open, also aware who Jake was waiting on. The silence was a bit uncomfortable, how much did she know about them anyways? The two seemed to be close, but he worried if she thought it was a little strange her friend and her brother were going out together.

“I know someone who gives piano lessons will be there tonight. I can ask them if they have any space for Emma” Jake offered, just to fill the time.

“Oh, that would be nice. We’ve got a lot going on right now though so we might wait until next year”.

“No worries, I can just get her contact information. Has Michael been having to stay late again?” He didn’t want to pry too much, but after a couple of years of knowing them he could tell there seemed to be some new unresolved tension coming from the household.

She sighed and shook her head, obviously frustrated but biting her tongue. He realized there might be a little more to her irritation than just her husband working late, but before she could break and spill her worries Danny finally emerged from the hallway.

“Sorry for making you wait, I was ironing my shirt”.

Jake’s eyebrows shot up when he saw Danny in the doorway, the light from inside the house casting his long shadow across the porch Jake stood on. He was wearing a dark colored button up with a diamond pattern, the sleeves rolled a quarter of the way up his arms with subtle gold chains across his wrists and neck. “Is this okay?” He did a little spin, holding his arms out so Jake could get a good look at his outfit.

“Yeah it’s great. You look great” Jake cleared his throat and adjusted the collar of his own shirt, glancing over to see Danny’s sister watching them with amusement in her eyes.

“Well you two have fun. Jake don’t worry about hurrying home we’ve got the kids”.

Jake nodded and Danny gave his sister a quick side hug before joining Jake on the porch. She shut the door behind him and Danny gave Jake a big eager smile.

“You look great too. I like this” he ran his thumb across the lapel of Jake’s suede coat he’d chosen for the night, already knowing it got cold at the venue they were going to. “I like these too” Danny’s fingers moved next to one of the necklaces that sat against Jake’s chest, picking up the circular charm and examining it.

“Thanks, they were a gift” Jake replied, trying to remain as still as possible and keep his breathing steady.

“Well, shall we?” Danny gently laid the pendant back down and retreated, clasping his hands behind his back like he was reminding himself to behave.

The ride over was nice. They talked about music finding out they had similar taste, Jake leaning more towards blues and Danny towards folk but both sharing a passion for the classics of old rock n roll.

When they arrived at the event Jake had plenty of people to greet and thank for being there. He worried Danny might feel out of place or get bored, but every time he glanced over to him Danny was lit up with a smile and conversing with those around him. Soon it was time to take their seats; Jake showed Danny where they would be at the back of the room, and waited by the stage for his quick speech before the concert started.

Jake held the mic tightly in his hands, not having felt that weight in his grip in years. He’d always had a bit of stage fright, but getting up in front of a crowd with June had never been less than amazing and he tuned into the memory of that feeling when he stepped in front of the audience tonight.

“First of all I’d just like to thank everyone for taking the time out of their weekend to be here with us. For those of you I don’t know, my name is Jacob Kiszka and I work for the foundation who put on this event. All of our ticket sales from tonight are going towards our new program that offers students free private music lessons. I really hope you enjoy the performance. Over the past six months I’ve been overseeing this project, I've gotten the opportunity to know some of these brilliant musical minds and promise they have some treats in store for you. Again, thank you so much for coming and after the show please feel free to check out the live band and refreshments we will have in the conference room next door”.

The crowd clapped for him as he exited the small stage and scurried off to rejoin Danny at their seats. They had the last row reserved to themselves, and with the venue not being close to full there wasn’t even anyone sitting anywhere near them.

As soon as he plopped down next to Danny the lights dimmed, getting darker where they were compared to the stage lights that focused their intensity on the musicians down below and the first song on the program began.

Jake’s focus stayed on the stage, but he felt Danny shift closer to him and whisper into his ear. “You did a good job”.

Just as easily as he’d leaned over, Danny sat back in his seat and enjoyed the performance, letting Jake do the same. Despite any hiccups they’d had earlier, the soloists were flawless, the transitions between pieces seamless, and the audience was loving every minute of it, clapping enthusiastically after each final note.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Jake asked Danny when his favorite performer finished by far the hardest song of the night, The Habanera from Carmen. It was her idea to include it in the program, and although Jake worried it might be too difficult for an intermediate orchestra, he was blown away by their hard work and dedication to the art.

“I actually can't believe I just heard that in real life” Danny’s mouth was agape, his eyes glittering with sheer delight.

Jake’s smile faded as he observed Danny watching the performance now, but it wasn’t because he was upset or anything. Quite the opposite, he was suddenly being filled with an overwhelming sense of relief and reassurance. He expected Danny might like it otherwise he wouldn’t have invited him. Even if he didn’t that would have been ok, but Danny seemed to be genuinely appreciative of his time here and that made Jake even happier he’d come.

Feeling like he was being watched, Danny looked over and made eye contact with Jake who was sitting on the edge of his seat. A shiver broke through undeather his coat when Danny’s eyes took him in next, looking him up and down through hooded lids and finally settling on his hands in his lap.

Internally Jake was screaming at himself to move, say something, do anything, but on the outside he was as calm as ever when Danny reached over and grabbed one of his hands, intertwining their fingers together and giving it a squeeze. Jake let out a shaky breath as his eyes fell to his lap, hoping Danny could not feel his heart pounding in his wrist.

“Jake…” Danny muttered his name in the dark, swiping his thumb over the back of Jake’s hand making him look back up again, only he didn’t look him in the eye this time. Jake found himself staring at Danny’s lips, hoping he’d be the braver of the two again.

Before either of them could make the next move though their moment was cut short when Jake heard someone else start speaking over the microphone.

“This last piece was not included on the programs, it is a special thanks to our Director Jake for all the hard work he’s put in. We hope you’ve all had a great night and be safe”.

Jake snapped his head back towards the stage, shocked and completely unaware of this secret addition to the performance. He gripped Danny’s hand tighter when the song began to play and he instantly recognized it as a rendition of one of his own.

The singer started in after the acoustic guitar opening, and Jake was taken aback when he heard his late wife's lyrics bleeding through the speakers for the first time in over three years.

He could feel the sting but he didn’t even register the tears rolling down his cheeks until Danny sat forward as well. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” he felt his voice crack, his face and chest burning hot as he shook his hand free from Danny’s and excused himself.

Jake went out into the hallway to collect himself, furiously wiping at his cheeks until they were rubbed red and drying his palms on his pants. Thankfully he was alone, until he heard the sound of the door behind him allowing someone else out.

“I’m sorry, that just caught me off guard” Jake’s knee jerk reaction was to apologize, suck it up, and walk back in with his head held high. All of that flew out the window though when Danny silently came from behind him and wrapped his arms around Jake’s shoulders, pulling his back against his chest and resting his chin on the top of Jake’s head.

More tears began to pool along his lash line when Jake reciprocated the touch by wrapping his hands around Danny’s forearms and pulling them tighter around his shaking frame.

“Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to feel every emotion coming to you right now” Danny muttered behind him.

Jake shook his head and nuzzled his face into the forearms folded across his chest, waiting for the moment to pass before he popped his head back up and inhaled sharply.

“Ok, I’m going to go to the restroom. People will be coming out soon. Will you wait for me in the conference room?”

“Yeah, I can do that”. Danny released his hold and took a few steps back to give Jake some space now. Though as he watched Jake cover his mouth with the back of his hand and walk away, he wished he’d let him follow.

Tags: @lyndz2names @gracev0609 @lipstickitty @sanguinebats @kultavalo

A/N: So there really is a program called Austin Soundwaves that does offer free private music lessons for children in that area. I was able to go to one of their concerts and the performer really did start belting Carmen, it was awesome. Support your local musicians 👏

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #danny wagner #jake kiszka #janny gvf

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