#i have most of the day tomorrow. but i think i am hanging out with a friend getting dinner and shes gunna help me clean the coffee stain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

puck-luck · 2 months

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code-breaker | jack hughes

warnings: pining!, unprotected p in v, lots of miscommunication but it is resolved duh, lmao uhhhhh jack fucking his best friend's sister maybe? kind of a big plot point fasho, a lame excuse for a squirt, cum on da body (chest), eating come, lots of banter, tiny TINY bit of angst and insecurity on fem!reader's part pairing: jack hughes x zegras!reader request: cappy's "sister of the best friend, lake house, etc. sister makes the first move and the guy tries to turn her down out of loyalty to the other boy and she gets a little hurt and insecure thinking he's rejecting her and she's like "am i really that bad?" with her voice craking and he's like fuck then... smut!" wc: 4327

Jack is here.

Jack, who you’ve been in love with since your twin brother started hanging out with him when they were in NTDP together. Jack, the New Jersey Devils’ prized star, the number one pick. Jack, the most annoying and most attractive brother of the esteemed Hughes family from Michigan. Yes, that Jack is here– ‘here’ being your apartment that you share with your brother in Anaheim now that Jamie has moved out and away.

Jack is here. You are here. Trevor is not.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you tell him awkwardly, still holding the door open and blocking the doorway. You’re all too aware of your lazy, solo-movie-night outfit as you stand in front of him. You’re clad only in a big shirt, one that normally reaches the middle of your thighs but has ridden up since your hands are raised and resting against the doorframe, and your favorite pair of panties. You did laundry earlier and showered, your big exciting thing of the day being that you could but on your favorite underwear and be lazy as soon as you finished the chore of folding your clothes. “Trevor’s in New York right now.”

“I know,” Jack says, a hand on his suitcase. The other is clenched by his side. “I have a meeting in LA tomorrow so he said I could stay here while he was gone.”

“Oh,” you reply, feeling silly. It would’ve been nice if your brother had told you that Jack was coming and staying here while he was gone, considering you’d made plans to be alone all night tonight. Trevor always does shit like this– he makes plans and then forgets to tell you until someone shows up or he has to leave to meet them. It’s frustrating. “Come on in, then.”

You move to the side, gesturing for Jack to enter the apartment, and he does. His suitcase rolls in behind him, just a little carry on, and he leaves it beside the door where he kicks off his shoes.

Your hands make their way to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging at it. “I’ll, uh, go change into something more–”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Jack interrupts, waving you off. He clears his throat. “You don’t have to change on my account. I’m interrupting your night of–”

He looks to the couch and the coffee table, littered with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine that you had been drinking out of, straight from the spout. Your movie is paused on the screen, a silly Disney Channel movie that had come out when you and Trevor were children and still hadn’t lost its touch yet. You’re hoping that Jack doesn’t recognize the screencap, but Mel’s Lemonade machine fills the screen and if he’s seen Lemonade Mouth at all, he’ll know what movie you’re watching.

“Disney Channel and wine,” Jack finishes, pinching his lips to hide the amusement in his voice.

You frown, even though you want to burst into laughter with him. It is silly, what you’re doing, but you were supposed to be alone and who are you to be ashamed of your guilty pleasures?

“Don’t make fun,” you admonish, crossing your arms with a pout. “I thought I had the apartment to myself.”

“I’m not making fun!” Jack denies, holding his hands up in surrender. “I think it’s nice that you’re having a me-party.”

He’s referencing the other time he’s interrupted when you’re having a movie night on your own, when you watched The Muppets (2011) at the lake house because the boys were out on the boat and you had gotten a nasty sunburn the day before, so you’d stayed in. Jack had come back early because he was hungry, making the boys drop him off at the dock before going back out, and caught you red-handed with his favorite kind of pretzels and a half-full bottle of margarita next to the blender.

You blush, glaring at him slightly. “Shut up, Jack.”

“No, this is perfect,” Jack continues, glowing a little as his shit-eating smile builds. He walks over to the couch and plops down, grabbing the bottle of wine and taking a swig before wiping his mouth. “I’m already dressed for a lazy night in, I shouldn’t waste it.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick,” you complain. “You know you don’t want to watch this movie with me.”

“Why not?” He challenges, another tilt of the bottle pouring the fruity liquid down his throat. He spreads his legs when he sits as all the boys do, taking up as much space as he can.

“Because you won’t like it,” you say. “And because I wasn’t planning on having you here.”

“Were you planning on having someone else here?” Jack teases. “Popcorn, red wine, a movie, no pants… I think I see the writing on the wall.”

“No, God, shut up, Jack!” You repeat with a huff, returning to the couch and curling up against the opposite arm, far away from the boy. “Just be quiet while I watch my movie. If you’re good, I’ll let you have some popcorn.”

Jack wiggles his eyebrows at you, sticking out his tongue. You pull at the bottom of your shirt again, making sure that your panties aren’t visible when he looks over. This is already humiliating enough– you don’t need your long-time crush seeing your underwear, too.

You hit play and turn the volume up loud enough to drown out any comments Jack might make. You’re lucky the movie is short, because he’s an antsy boy who loves to talk, just like your brother, and you can tell that he’s anxious to start another conversation.

As the credits roll, you mute the television and turn to him. “What?” You demand, sitting in criss-cross-applesauce and shoving your hands into your lap to stretch your shirt over the space between your legs.

“You really didn’t have plans tonight?” Jack asks. “It’s a Saturday night and you live in LA. You’re in your twenties. You didn’t want to have anyone over?”

You flush, but it’s less out of embarrassment and more out of anger. “Judgemental much, Hughes? Not all of us have people throwing themselves at our feet any given day of the week.” You grind your teeth, clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath. You stare at him, refusing to break eye contact. Jack shouldn’t be allowed to form opinions on your life. You know exactly what he’s insinuating– why aren’t you out there getting laid, Y/N? and it’s frustrating because it’s the same question you ask yourself whenever your friends text about their recent hookups or whenever Trevor brings a girl back to the apartment.

More than anything, you don’t want Jack judging you. You know that your Saturday night plans are lame, but that’s why you wanted to be alone.

Jack falls quieter, your reaction diluting his crooked, toothy smirk that he reserves for the people he knows well. “I’m surprised you don’t have– people. Throwing themselves at you.”

He’s awkward when he says it, too awkward not to make you suspicious.

He’s avoiding eye contact, picking at his nailbeds.

“Would you?” You ask, directly to the point. You’re making a point, too– you’ve known Jack for years and he has never, not once, implied that he thinks you’re desirable.

Jack says nothing, running his fingers through his hair and looking down.

You nod to yourself and stand from the couch, still tugging at your shirt. You’re pulling it even lower now, the neckline dipping and stretching as you cover your legs up as best you can. “That’s what I thought,” you say quietly, a cold feeling washing through your chest and pressing down on the skin that your heart beats beneath.

“I would,” Jack calls, just as you walk away. You’re positioned right in front of the door that leads to your bedroom when he says it, head hanging towards the ground so that he doesn’t see the frown on your face.

His silence was a rejection and his afterthought is even worse. Nonetheless, you turn to face him. This time, it’s your silence that rings throughout the space.

“I would,” Jack repeats. “If, y’know. You weren’t–”

“Trevor’s sister,” You say, filling in the blanks and finishing his sentence. You nod, a tight, close-lipped, and pointed smile on your face. “You don’t have to explain, Jack. I realized a long time ago that my world would always revolve around Trevor.” Your hand is on the doorknob now, twisting it and cracking your door open. Your bed is right there and you can collapse into it in mere seconds, able to let your tears leak into your pillow silently as you remind yourself that you’re not as good as your twin brother once again, just as soon as you get these words out. “I know I can’t do or say the things I want to with the people I want to because they’re always thinking about Trevor.”

You could add, And why would you be any different? You know him best. Of course he’s the one you’re loyal to, but you decide against it. It’s too petty. It’s too mean. It’s too– real.

You look at him one last time to bid him goodnight, already craving the following day when his meeting is over and he heads back to Michigan, far away from you and your un-desirability. The tight smile returns to your face, trying to smooth out your upset yet resigned features. It’s always the same thing. It’s not Jack’s fault, really, it’s not. You’ve imagined this conversation in your head many times and each time you think rationally, you know that this is how it has to be.

He’s Jack Hughes, for God’s sake. You’re just Trevor Zegras’ less successful, lesser known twin sister.

“Trevor would kill me,” Jack says on a whim. “Really. He would. He would stand me up and punch me, right here.”

You’ve got one foot in your bedroom and one foot out. Despite the ice piercing through your chest, you can’t find it in yourself to be rude and close the door on him. You turn to face Jack again.

He’s sitting forward on the couch, hands clasped in front of him like a prayer. He moves them when he talks, lowering them and spreading them and gesturing with them. He’s always done that, ever since you’ve known him– it’s another way that he calls attention to himself and takes up space. It’s part of the reason why he’s so charming– he knows how to use his hands, how to touch someone to politely get them to move or to pull them closer or to playfully shoo them away.

“If I had a sister, I’d do the same thing to him,” Jack continues. “It’s just– we can’t go for each others’ family. It’s against the code.”

You nod, slowly, exaggeratedly just to show him how nonsensical that sounds. “You realize it’s not up to Trevor to decide who you go out with,” you say. “That’s kind of your choice, Jack.”

“It’s not that simple.”

You shrug, then look away. Outside the living room window is a dark night, leaves blowing with the wind.

“It could be,” you say after a moment. You’re not surprised to hear how resigned you sound. You learned to live with this a long time ago, so you know that pointing out how easily things could change is futile. You say it anyway. “If you wanted it to be. But, I get it. I’m your best friend’s sister. Maybe if I wasn’t, you’d consider–”

“I have considered,” Jack interrupts. “I’ve– well, you’ve seen it. All the guys have.”

You’re lost. It’s like he’s speaking in code. “I’ve seen what?” You ask, monotonous and silently yearning for your bed. Your patience is growing thin.

“You can’t be serious,” Jack responds with a laugh. He buries his face in his hands, muffling the noise. “Are you?”

“I’ve seen what,” you repeat, straight-faced and not entertaining this sudden bout of humor from the brunet boy.

“How I look at you when you’re in those tiny little swimsuits on the boat, or how I laugh when you make one of your stupid jokes that aren’t funny to anyone but you and Trevor,” Jack says. “You really never noticed?”

Now he’s just dangling your hopeless crush in front of you. You assumed he had noticed sometime over the years, but this is overkill. He’s never felt the same– that much is clear. It’s cruel that he thinks he can lead you to believe otherwise as a means to further tease you for being alone tonight.

You shake your head. “I never noticed because you never did any of those things, Jack. You’re just saying that to say it.”

He’s up in a flash, coming towards you and placing a hand flat on your bedroom door to prevent you from closing it and ending the conversation. “I can’t believe you don’t believe me,” Jack says.

“I don’t think it’s funny that you’re making fun of the little crush I’ve had on you since we were kids. You don’t feel the same way and I’m not an idiot.” You move to close the door again, but Jack pushes it open again.

“You– I’m not making fun,” Jack stammers out, looking surprised. He leans forward, narrowing his eyes. “You have a crush on me?”

Your jaw drops and your face flames with humiliation. You thought he knew that you liked him and that he was making fun on purpose– and now you’ve accidentally revealed your massive, well-kept secret to his face. This was never supposed to happen. “You didn’t know?” You hiss, covering the lower half of your face with your hands.

“You have a crush on me,” Jack repeats, a smile spreading across his face. He steps closer, prompting you to back away.

“No. No,” you moan out, feeling positively ashamed and destroyed. Tonight is not turning out as you hoped it would.

Jack’s still smiling, closing your bedroom door softly behind him as he follows you into your room.

You knock into the edge of your bed and sit, sinking into the mattress. Your hands are still pressed over your mouth as Jack kneels in front of you, prying your hands away from your face and holding them gently.

“You have a crush on me,” Jack says for a third time, his voice soft and subtly optimistic. The corner of his mouth curves up into the tiniest of smirks and you swear your face couldn’t get any more red.

All you can give him is a frown and a devastated wobble of your bottom lip.

“Well, this changes everything,” Jack says, regaining his ability to joke, it seems. His next question is rhetorical and makes you swallow hard. “Who gives a fuck about Trevor when you feel the same way I do?”

“You’re– you’re serious,” you say, still a thread of disbelief sewn into your words. “You weren’t kidding. You actually– thought about it.”

“Thought about it?” Jack asks. “Fuck, Y/N, I almost told you right before you left last summer, but then you said you were talking to that guy.”

You roll your eyes– that guy had only been in your life for about a month and you had only mentioned him because Jack had mentioned a girl he wanted to see. You tell him such– “I only brought him up because everyone was talking about their romantic interests and who they were interested in, I didn’t want to seem like a loser. You had some girl, too, Jack.”

“Some girl– that was you,” Jack reveals incredulously. “I thought I was being so obvious.”

“You weren’t obvious at all!” You deny, mouth open in a scoff.

“I thought that you mentioning that guy was your way of letting me down easy!”

“Yes, Jack, because I was going to reveal my feelings for you in a room full of both of our brothers. Good idea. You fucking idiot!”

Jack laughs aloud, throwing his head back. His face scrunches up and he smooths his face with his big palm at the end of his amusement. He fixes you with a look of glee and astonishment– something only hindsight can bring to his expression. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

You shake your head, laughing with him for a moment before he swipes a thumb over your cheek, which stills you.

“Fuck,” he sighs, smile still gracing his face. “I can’t believe–”

“Me neither,” you say.

“Can I–”

“Absolutely.”

Jack’s rising up, kissing you and laying you back on the bed so that he can completely cover your body with his own. One of his hands cups your cheek, while the other grips your hip, atop your underwear but underneath the big t-shirt that is now riding up your body as you move. Your hand is on his bicep and his chest, clutching his sweatshirt. The strings dangle down into your space, brushing against your clothes and tickling you.

His hands memorize you like a topographic map, clutching at your dips and curves and anything else he can get his hands on.

“Wanna take this off,” You mumble against Jack’s mouth, tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt.

Jack pulls back immediately, reaching behind his neck to grab the collar of his top and bring it above his head. He balls it up and drops it somewhere on the floor.

“That, too,” you tell him, about his t-shirt, before he can bend back down and kiss you senseless again.

Jack chuckles and pulls it off, too, leaving him half-naked just like you. His chest is tanned and swollen from his recent workouts in Michigan since his shoulder surgery, something that Trevor had told you about but about which you’d never checked in. You’re gentler on that side of his body, especially as he comes back down into your space and you get to touch him. You run your hands over his muscles. You feel out the ridges of his body, trying to match his own confident movements as he feels you up.

One of your hands makes its way to his v-line, something you’d seen over plenty of boat trips. You’d always wanted the opportunity to touch it, to trace it, to watch it bend and flex as he rolled his hips. You’re being afforded that opportunity now and it is sweet.

“I thought you might like that,” Jack murmurs. “Caught you staring once. Was the same day you wore my favorite red swimsuit out.”

“I still have it,” you tell him, gasping a little when his hand slides up to your chest. He tweaks your nipple, then his hand retreats.

“Mm, a treat for tomorrow,” Jack says. “I’m gonna have you walking around in that thing all day just so I can look at you. For now…”

He trails off, pushing the bottom of your shirt up and leaving your lips to attach his to the freshly revealed skin of your torso. He kisses up your body with each inch he reveals, between your breasts and up your neck. He pulls your shirt off, letting it join his own on the floor, and gets his first proper look at your tits.

“Been waiting to see these,” he continues, eyes fixed on your chest like he’s being hypnotized. He places his hands on you and squeezes, feeling your supple flesh between his fingers. You moan out at the sensation, the noise spurring him on. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding and tugging at his joggers, hoping he’ll get the hint and remove them.

“‘ve wanted to come on these tits since I first saw it in a porno,” Jack reveals, still mesmerized by your chest. “Thought about it a hundred times.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Come on my tits all you want, but you have to fuck me first.”

“Guess your Saturday night wasn’t so boring after all,” Jack says before he stands from the bed and tugs his pants off. He joins you again, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing over your face. He grinds against you, his clothed cock sliding against your damp panties in a way that has you both keening into each others’ mouths.

“Guess not,” is your reply, cut short by another moan when Jack’s hand claims your chest again.

You move without speaking after that, fueled only by the desire coursing through your veins after years of pining and aching for the other.

Jack feels you out and eventually discards his own underwear before removing yours, returning to the missionary position that you had assumed as soon as you had first kissed. It’s sweeter this way– and you both need to see the other’s face, to feel their breath mix with your own. Your chests are flush together, your nipples scraping against the defined and broad swoops of his skin. You grind against each other for a few minutes more, his dick sliding between the wet lips of your pussy with nothing blocking it. He groans into your ear as your juices coat his length, eyes closed in a grimace that is completely charged by his pleasure.

“Condom?” is the last thing he asks, with you shaking your head and replying, “Pill.”

He lines himself up, mouth agape with a choked breath as he thrusts into your tight, wet heat. Your head finds the mattress beneath you, your back arching up as he fills you. You can feel his veins sliding against your walls, the blunt and weeping tip of his cock poking at your deepest parts.

He moves like a man possessed and fighting the beast– like he wants to let loose but at the same time, restraining himself. When you tug on his hair, the subtle waves that he’s been growing out over the summer and hiding beneath his hat in every picture you’ve seen, and whine out his name, Jack’s control vanishes.

He starts to piston his hips into your cunt, burying his face into your neck and letting out ecstasy-fueled whimpers each time you clench down. He curses in your ear, voice a little higher than it normally is, and the intimacy and vulnerability of the moment has your heart clenching.

“J– J–” You chant, mewling as his cockhead drives against the back wall of your pussy in hard thrusts that make your head spin.

“So good,” he grits out, kissing over your neck and catching your earlobe between his lips for a moment before dropping it. One of his hands is splayed over your hip, the other securely planted next to your head. “So tight.”

“Coming,” you warn, your fingers finding his bicep and clenching, fingernails digging into his skin so much that you won’t be surprised if you break skin. Your voice is high, too, octaves higher because of the pleasure you’re experiencing.

“Fuck, yeah, baby, come on my cock,” Jack pants out, the hand from your hip coming to rub circles over your clit.

It sends a shock up your spine and has your hips bucking up to meet his, your entire lower half shaking as your climax approaches. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your vision goes spotty when you do come, just seconds after his groaned encouragement. Your entire body tenses, freezing with Jack still inside of you, making it damn near impossible for him to continue pumping his hips.

He slides from your opening as you’re coming, bringing some of the slick with him in a feeble excuse for a squirt. His dick bobs, hard and an angry red that might be the most beautiful color you’ve ever seen in your hazy, post-orgasmic state.

Jack comes up to straddle your stomach, stripping his cock quickly with a tight fist, chest heaving. You know he wants to come on your chest, having already given him permission, but your mouth opens and your tongue lolls out in an invitation that Jack can’t deny. He shuffles up further on his knees, his whimper sounding pained as his milky cum spurts from the tip of his cock and lands along the flat of your tongue and your lips.

His spurts grow weaker, although he’s still stroking his dick in a fervorous pace, whining a little more at the oversensitivity. His cum makes his way to your chest, just dripping down the length of his shaft and pooling over your tits.

You reach up with one hand and trace your fingers through the seed, causing Jack to sway a little on top of you at the sight. His cheeks are flushed and pink, eyes blue and clear like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Your fingertips brush your nipple, spreading the cum over it before you bring your hand up to your mouth and suck the remaining liquid off of your skin, swallowing it with a hum.

Jack is off of you in a flash, pulling you on top of his lap and joining your lips. The last of his cum, painted across your tongue in a thin layer, mixes with your spit as he kisses you. He’s desperate, filling your mouth with his tongue until you can barely breathe, tasting himself on you until it’s indistinguishable– where you end and he begins.

It takes a long time for Jack to finally pull away, for you both to come down from your highs and take a breath.

In typical Jack fashion, he can’t stop himself from joking around.

“Trevor’s really going to kill me now,” he says. “There’s a chance he’ll never let us be in the same room again.”

You laugh, knowing already that neither of you will be willing to let this– whatever this is– go just because your brother has something to say about it. “In that case, we’ll just have to sneak away.”

notes: I WANTED TO NAME THIS "BFB" AFTER THE VICTORIOUS SONG SOOOOOO BAD!!!!! but alas. it's best friend's sister. maybe some other time. blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. well now wait that's a good idea...

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#jack hughes #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #jh86 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

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st0ryf1lms · 3 months

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home, that's a weird word ➳ ken sato

pairing: ken sato x reader

word count: 1.5k

genre/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, undertones of xenophobia, basically how i interpreted the last thing kenji said to ami on their first interview, grammatical errors (most likely), no beta we die like men, personal assistant!reader

synopsis: the word "home" always left a weird taste in kenji's tongue when he said it.

a/n: AAAAAAAA I'VE FINALLY WRITTEN A THOUSAND WORD FIC AFTER 2 YEARS IM SO HAPPY!!! and i'm really hoping u guys like this bc i really am so proud of this sooo enjoyyy!!

It had been a long day, as far as Kenji is concerned. Way too long for his liking. All the cameras and microphones pointed at his direction, all those flashing lights-- a man could only take a few for so long, and Kenji has had enough of his share for the day. As he gets off his bike, all he can think of is the comfort of his own bed, how his pillow would feel against his head and how the duvets would feel covering his skin.

He opened the door to his house, surprised to see you sitting on the couch with the living room lights turned off. Your back was facing him, and with your laptop's glaring LED screen being the only source of light in the room, all he could see was your crouched silhouette.

"Already settling down, huh, Y/N?" He spoke, breaking the silence in the room. "Oh, Mr. Sato, you're home," you say unfazed, as if the only thing that was powering you right now was your laptop's battery. "Just wanted to stay for a while to catch you so I can brief you for your schedule tomorrow." You stated, closing your laptop and standing up to turn on the lights on the dim setting. Kenji sighed and closed his eyes as he plopped down on the couch in front of you, serving as a signal for you to start.

"Okay, so, first thing in the morning, Mr. Sato, you have baseball practice which Coach Shimura insists you attend, an interview scheduled…" Your voice becomes buzzing in his head as he looks out the window, a view overlooking the city. The sound of laughter and joy drifting out from the street below, making him feel very alone in this somewhat new town. "…Sato. Mr. Sato. Are you even listening to a word I say?" You say exasperatedly, not sure if your asshat of a boss actually understands that you came from a 12-hour flight, too, and want nothing to be in the comfort of a nice and comfortable bed. You follow where his gaze is at, looking out the window where the busy streets of Tokyo are hustling and bustling as the nightlife slowly rises. You look back at your boss, sporting a solemn yet longing look on his face- earning a tilt of confusion from your head.

"Can I ask you a question, Y/N? Off the record, please." He asks, eyes remaining trained on the window. "Have you ever felt like you've never belonged? Like, no matter where you go, no matter who you are, you'll never find yourself home?" He finally looks at you, noticing your once tense figure now replaced with a relaxed yet calculating stance, figuring out what to say to him. The silence feels like forever as he awaits an answer from you, Kenji letting out a sigh as he hangs his head down low.

"Ever since I had moved to LA, I lost all sense of the word 'home.' Hah, even saying it right now leaves a weird taste in my tongue. All those kids back there, they always told me to 'go back home,' and when I did go back to the house where my mom and I lived, she'd always tell me that we were right at home. Now that I'm actually back in my 'homeland', it feels so weird to even call it that now." He blurted out, his previously relaxed figure on the couch is now one of a crouched one, his head still glued facing down on the floor. "In LA, I felt too Japanese to fit in. The culture shock hitting me every single time I try to do something I was used to. Now, here in Japan, I feel too American now to even call myself a local. Even speaking in my own tongue feels weird to my mouth and my throat."

He finally looked up at you and saw a blank yet somehow shocked expression adorning your face. His eyes slightly widened and his breath hitched in his throat as he quickly realized the gravity of his words and who he was speaking to about a sensitive topic. You, on the other hand, was internally slack-jawed. What the helllll, is this really happening???? You rhetorically think to yourself as your boss, The Ken Sato, the egotistical baseball superstar, literally just spilled his guts in front of you, his personal assistant whom he keeps at an arm's length.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" he stuttered as he racked his brain, trying to make up an excuse for what he said. You still stayed silent and eerily still. "A–are you still there? Hello? Earth to Y/N?" He asked, cautiously waving a hand.

"Yes," you cleared your throat, "yes, Kenji." You say, his contorted face relaxing as he hears his name slip your mouth. You clear your throat once again before starting.

"You know, if I may, I'd like to believe that home is a construct you make and that a place doesn't really define it. Sure, in kindergarten, we get taught that the definition of home is a place where you live in but as we get older, don't some things actually change? And I'd like to say that the word 'home' is one of those things. As a child, we would say home is where our parents live. As teenagers, we'd say home is with our friends as we laugh and joke with them on various different occasions of our lives at school. As adults, I believe we can be left to define 'home' what we fit it deem to our liking. After all, home is where the heart is, am I right?" You ramble on, pacing around the living room as you animatedly explain with your hands as Kenji follows your every move.

Realizing your mouth once again moved with a mind of its own, you straightened up and cleared your throat. "Ahem, sir. Right, well, I better get going. Long day tomorrow." You nervously chuckled, refusing to look your boss whose privacy you've seem to have invaded as you spoke without filter. You tentatively grab your things and slowly head to the front door, feeling your boss' eyes on you follow your every move as if saying you've overstayed your welcome.

As Kenji trains your every movement, he realizes what you're about to do and stands up abruptly from his place in the couch.

"Y/N, wait."

Your hand hovers above the door handle, eyes closed as you brace for the impact of what your boss is about to say. Please don't fire me, please don't fire me, please do-

"Do you mind if you stay the night?" He says and your head snaps back to look at him, as if he'd grown another head.

I- I mean, not like that, b- but, well… Well, you know what I mean." He sheepishly clarifies, his hand bringing up to scratch the nape of his neck. The silence is awkward and deafening, and he was about to open his mouth to take back what he said but you beat him to it.

"Sure. I'll stay the night, Mr. Sato." You face him with a soft smile.

"Please, Y/N, Kenji's fine."

He leads you to the spare bedroom he has in the house and asks Mina to deliver a fresh set of clothes where you'll stay.

"I just want to say thank you, Y/N. I know I don’t say it enough and I'm sorry for that. I appreciate everything you do." He sincerely told you, looking into your eyes with nothing but pure admiration and gratefulness. "It's all in the job, sir." You say before realizing, wincing as the honorific accidentally leaves your mouth. You open the bedroom door before saying,

"Good night, Kenji."

"Good night, Y/N."

BONUS:

Kenji wakes up to the noise of cooking downstairs, with a pair of voices talking back and forth. He rubs his eyes free of sleep and lifts the duvets off of him, getting up from his bed and out of his room.

The voices become clearer as he goes down the stairs on the way to the kitchen, where he makes out your voice and Mina's, seeming to be guiding you as you follow a recipe she reads out. "Y/N, he's awake." Mina alerts you as you turn to face him.

"Oh, good morning, Mr. Sato. I hope you don’t mind, Mina told me you barely use the kitchen anyway." You nervously chuckle as you focus your attention back on the stove. "Please, Y/N, what did I tell you?" He visibly cranks up at the mention of his last name early in the morning.

"Right, Kenji, I mean." You quickly recall, still stirring the pot. "That smells amazing, what's that?" He says as he walks over you, looking over your shoulder.

"I know it isn't really for breakfast but Mina told me how it was your favorite, so I made curry. Or, at least, attempted to make it." You explain cautiously, slowly looking over to your boss who's currently sporting a look of surprise.

"M-may I?" He gestures to the spoon. You nod and hand it to him, scooting over to give him a taste. His eyes close and you start to feel anxious, building up an excuse in your head to tell him.

"Tastes just like home."

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #ultraman #ultraman rising #ultraman: rising

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nattikay · 5 months

Text

bedtime

NOTE: stä'noli should be stolä'ni, that was a pretty rudimentary mistake and I'm not really sure what was going on in my brain when I wrote it but 😅 maybe i'll fix it on the image later but i can't be bothered right this minute, i'm already up way later than I should be as is (have an early day tomorrow)

Further language notes/rambling under the cut!

"wait, isn't Jake supposed to be spelled Tsyeyk in Na'vi?" Yes it is! And if I'd given that line to a monolingual Na'vi speaker I would've spelled it that way. BUT Neytiri is bilingual and does not pronounce it "Tsyeyk" (I mean, technically she doesn't say "Jake" either, it's more like "Zheyk" but w/e). So for her specifically I keep the j. I suppose at that point I could've just kept the English spelling completely, but leaving silent letters at the end like that makes things weird in written Na'vi given all the grammatical endings that can be applied (not that that matters in this comic because they weren't needed for the line but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Speaking of Jake, writing Na'vi dialogue for him is fun to me because he's not a native speaker which means I'm free to give him all sorts of beginner habits and/or mistakes, especially given that by his own admission he struggled learning the language. However, since I'm working within a pretty broad time frame, I had to remind myself that he wouldn't be a beginner forever.

I bring this up because there are two aspects of Jake's dialogue here that I was going to point out as...well, not wrong, but as more "English-y" habits I'd headcanoned he might hang on to...but on further reflection changed my mind because I realized that at the time of this comic he's been living with the Omatikaya for nearly ten years and would be pretty much fluent. I still left it written that way but am no longer headcanoning that that's ~just how he talks~ at this point in his life. After all, if I'm conscious of these habits after just two years of studying the language as a casual hobby, is it really believable that he'd be clinging to them after nearly a decade of full daily immersion, even with his self-admitted struggle with language learning? 😅

Anyways, for the sake of rambling about my hobby regardless, one of these aspects was using SVO word order, like English. Na'vi is a free-word-order language, so SVO is valid, but most Na'vi speakers are not going to stick to it exclusively. I think Jake, like many native-English-speaking learners, may have relied on this word order earlier on because that's just how his brain has been wired to process information, but at this point I think just by sheer exposure he'd have broken out of any strict adherence to it, intentional or otherwise.

The other thing is concerning possessive. The standard Na'vi grammatical ending for possessive is -yä. But Na'vi grammar also includes a concept called inalienable possession, which refers to things that are intrinsically yours and cannot be given away. What exactly qualifies as inalienable varies between languages that have such a concept, but with Na'vi it's most commonly seen with body parts. Inalienable possession can be marked with -yä, but there is a slight preference to mark it with the topical, -ri, instead. So, compare:

Peyä mehinam lu ngim. His legs are long. Pori mehinam lu ngim. His legs are long (lit. "concerning him, the legs are long")

Both of these are considered acceptable, but the -ri version is considered just slightly "better" (for lack of a better term).

You'll notice that Jake uses peyä instead of pori here; this was because the peyä structure is a more direct equivalent to the English construction, so it's pretty common for new learners to use it instead of -ri. And again it's not wrong, so it's not exactly a mistake per se. So it seemed like a reasonable "Englishy-but-still-technically-correct" habit for Jake to hang on to. And I do still think that may well have been in the case...in his earlier years 😅

soooo yeah. I will still probably be giving Jake some of those speaking habits in comics and such that take place only 2-3 years after A1, but once you get to around 10 years like this one...yeah I think it'll make more sense to just write his dialogue like that of any other fluent Na'vi-speaking character lol

#avatar #avatar 2 #sully family #jake sully #neytiri #tuktirey #neteyam #kiri #lo'ak #comic #my art #lì'fya leNa'vi

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0cta9on · 9 months

Text

Beach Day

length: +3k words

Genre: smut

Nmixx Haewon x Male Reader

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Your teacher dismissed the class as the sound of shuffling bags and miscellaneous chatter filled the room.

“Yo, Minhyuk!”

You turn to your best friend, Junseo, who was sat next to you.

“Did you invite anyone to our beach party yet? Jaewon and I already got Lily and Yoona to tag along,” he asks. Your stomach dropped at the question.

“U-uh, no, sorry. I think I’ll just sit this one out, you guys go and have fun without me,” you say.

Junseo sighs, annoyed at your lame excuse. “Dude, quit being a bitch and ask Haewon already. The worst thing she’ll say is no.”

You and your friends had planned on going to the beach this weekend, and Jaewon suggested that all three of you would invite a girl to make things more “interesting”. It’s not that you didn’t have any girl to invite; it’s quite the opposite. You had your eyes dead set on one girl: Oh Haewon. You’ve had a crush on her since you first laid eyes on her and you would gladly sell your limbs if it meant getting to spend one second alone with her. There’s only one problem - She’s the most popular girl in school, and you were just… You.

“That’s the thing, Junseo. She’s obviously gonna say no,” you reason as you grab your things and exit the classroom, Junseo following closely behind you.

“Why do you think we invited Lily and Yoona? Those three are close, of course Haewon is gonna say yes.” Junseo suddenly grabs your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Speak of the devil, they’re right there.” He points towards the end of the hallway where, lo and behold, Haewon, Lily, and Yoona were talking.

You gulp as your throat suddenly becomes dry. Even in a simple school uniform, she was the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. The overwhelming feeling of attraction towards her makes your heart race, which has the unfortunate side effect of turning you into a blubbering nervous wreck.

Junseo starts pushing you towards her. “C’mon dude, just go and ask her.” You try to stop him, but your legs are practically wet spaghetti noodles at this point. Before you know it, you find yourself right in front of the three girls, their eyes staring back at you.

“H-Hae… H-hhhhh… Hi…” you stutter breathlessly. Junseo smacks the back of your head, bringing you back to your senses.

“Hello ladies, my friend Minhyuk here has something to ask Haewon,” he says, patting your shoulder reassuringly.

You awkwardly clear your throat, staring at the ground as you’re too intimidated to look her in the eye. “U-uh, do you wanna… go to the beach with us tomorrow?” You brace yourself, expecting rejection.

“Yeah, sure, sounds like fun!” she says in a bright, cheery tone. You couldn’t believe your ears at first. Your lips curved onto a goofy smile as Junseo held you up from fainting, your legs reduced to jelly.

“Cool, we’ll see you girls tomorrow then,” Junseo says as he drags you away. Right as you round the corner, you see Haewon and the other two giggling amongst themselves.

______________________________________________________________

*Beep beep beep*

You groan as you shut off the alarm on your phone. 7:00 am. You had a couple hours before Jaewon would pick you up for your beach trip. The excitement from being able to spend alone time with Haewon made you restless, so you decided to put in a quick workout to make sure you looked your best for the beach. While you weren’t an athlete like Junseo and Jaewon were, they always forced you to go to the gym with them, resulting in you having a pretty solid physique that you hoped Haewon would notice.

Time flies by, and after a shower and getting your stuff ready, you hear a honk from outside, signaling Jaewon’s arrival. You head outside and see Junseo hanging his head out of the passenger side window.

“Yo Minhyuk! Hurry up and get your ass in the car!” he yells, a mischievous smirk adorned on his face. You give him a weird look before opening the door to the back, only to be faced with Lily and Yoona.

“Hey, Minhyuk.”

“Hiiiii.”

You give them an awkward nod, feeling a little confused. You assumed the girls would be going in a different car and the three of you would meet them at the beach.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I went ahead and picked up the girls since they live close,” Jaewon says, looking at you through the rear view mirror with a smirk on his face. Jaewon was the most soft spoken out of the three of you, but he always had some kind of trick up his sleeve. You scoot next to Lily, oblivious to whatever he was planning.

“Alright, we just gotta pick up Haewon and then we’ll be good to go. The back is only meant to seat three, but I’m sure you guys don’t mind squeezing her in there, right?” Jaewon says, his smirk growing into a full on toothy smile. Your eyes go wide with shock as the realization hits you - he was planning on smushing you in the back with Haewon. While you weren’t completely opposed to the idea, you can only imagine how much of an awkward mess you’re going to be with her practically breathing down your neck. After a short drive, Jaewon stops in front of what you assume is Haewon’s house.

“I’ll tell her that we’re here,” Lily says, typing on her phone. You gulp, suddenly feeling very anxious. The girl of your dreams was about to be squished next to you and you were almost 100% sure that you would find a way to fumble this. While lost in thought, the car door opens, revealing a smiling Haewon wearing baggy sweatpants and a white, tight fitting tank top that accentuated her breasts.

“Hey guys!” she greets. Lily and Yoona greet her back, while all you can muster is an awkward hand wave.

“Yo Haewon, are you alright with squeezing in the back next to Minhyuk?” Junseo asks, a sly twinkle in his eyes. Your only wish right now is to strangle his neck with the seatbelt.

“Yeah, that should be fine,” Haewon replies as she scoots next to you. You give Lily and Yoona an apologetic look as you push them to make room for Haewon. Miraculously, the four of you are able to successfully pack together like a can of sardines. The soft skin of Haewon’s arm brushes against you, causing your cock to spring to life from the sudden contact. You mentally facepalm as you try to focus on something else, hoping none of the girls notice your bulge.

“Yoona, you can come sit on my lap if it’s too cramped back there,” Junseo says.

“In your dreams, pervert,” Yoona says, grimacing. The rest of the car erupts into laughter while Junseo sulks in his seat.

______________________________________________________________

Junseo and the girls fell asleep on the drive to the beach, while you were way too excited to even think about sleep.

“Wake up y’all. We’re here,” Jaewon says, shaking Junseo awake. All of you step out of the car, taking in the warm sun and the salty scent of the ocean. You, Jaewon, and Junseo grab your stuff from the trunk while the girls excitedly run towards the sea, kicking up sand behind them.

“Yo Minhyuk, did you have fun back there?” Jaewon teases. You punch his arm in rage while he chuckles at you.

“I fucking hate you, man.”

Junseo wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Chill out dude, we’re just trying to help you out. Remember, you would have bailed on us if I didn’t shove you towards Haewon.” He slaps your back before heading in the direction of the girls.

“He’s right. You're basically a mess without us,” Jaewon says, snickering to himself. A feeling of determination suddenly fills you up. You were dead set on having a good time with Haewon and, if things went well, you would confess your feelings to her by the end of the night. With a huff, you march through the sand, following behind your friends.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to the beach,” Haewon remarks. “Thanks for inviting me, Minhyuk.” She turns to you, flashing a bright smile.

At that moment, all your confidence immediately leaves your body. “Y-yeah, n-no problem, hehe…” you stutter awkwardly. To make things worse, you catch Haewon covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her laughter.

Jaewon places a large picnic blanket on the sand while you set up the umbrella. Junseo sets down a bag of snacks and a cooler full of drinks, completing the preparations.

“Thank you boyssss,” Yoona says. “Alright, let’s hurry up and get in the water!”

The three of you can’t help but stare in awe as the girls start stripping, revealing their bikini clad bodies underneath. While Lily and Yoona had nice bodies, all of your focus was on Haewon. Her bright yellow bikini top revealed a generous amount of cleavage, while her matching bottoms left practically nothing to the imagination. You felt yourself drool as you imagined getting to explore her smooth curves with your hands.

“Hey perverts, are you gonna join us or not?” Yoona yells, snapping the three of you back to your senses. Jaewon and Junseo quickly discard their shirts before running into the ocean, joining Lily and Yoona. You start to do the same before noticing Haewon, who was sitting underneath the shade of the umbrella.

“Aren’t you gonna go in the water?” you ask her.

“I want to, but I completely forgot my sunscreen at home like an idiot,’ she says, sighing disappointedly. “I’d rather not risk getting sunburnt, y’know?”

You rummage through your bag and pull out a small bottle of sunscreen. “Here, you can use some of mine.”

She flashes you a bright smile as she takes the bottle from your hand. “Thank you, Minhyuk! You’re a lifesaver!”

“”Y-yeah, no problem.” Your cock begins to stir in your swimming trunks as you watch her rub the white cream into her smooth skin, your mind filling with sinful thoughts. Then, the unthinkable happens.

“Hey Minhyuk, do you think you could put some sunscreen on my back?” Words you’ve only ever heard in the beginnings of cheap porn films have now come out of Haewon’s mouth. You try to keep a calm expression as she hands you the bottle of sunscreen.

“Y-y-yeah, I c-can do that,” you stutter, trying and failing to maintain your composure. Thankfully, Haewon doesn’t notice as she lies on her stomach, giving you the perfect chance to ogle her cute ass, barely covered by her bikini bottoms. With trembling hands, you squirt some sunscreen on your fingers and begin gently massaging into her back.

“Mmmmm, you have such strong hands,” she says, moaning from your touch. You felt your heart pound in your chest with excitement as your hands caressed her lower back. Her skin was as smooth as you had imagined, your fingers easily gliding over her curves. This intimate situation felt like a dream come true that you never wanted to wake up from.

“Oh Minhyuk, that feels so good.” You felt your ears burn bright red as your cock stood at full attention. Everything else faded away as you focused on giving Haewon the best massage you could muster. The sunscreen acted as lube as you gently pushed your digits into her back, eliciting more moans. It became a game to you as you figured out which spots she liked most. Your breathing became heavy with arousal as the chorus of Haewon’s moans filled your ears.

Suddenly, Haewon sits up and grabs your wrists, glaring at you. You gulp, worried that you may have taken things too far. Without a word, she pulls you up and drags you away from the picnic blanket.

“U-uh, Haewon? Where are we going?”

She ignores you as she drags you behind a large boulder, away from everyone else. Her demeanor suddenly turns timid as a pink blush appears on her cheeks and her shaky eyes are unable to meet yours.

“Haewon? What’s wrong?” you ask, becoming increasingly bewildered by her behavior. Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but find her cute as she nervously twiddled with her fingers, her impressive cleavage on full display.

“U-um, I’m sorry if this is weird, but that massage got me all h-hot and…” Her words trailed off as the pink on her cheeks evolved into tomato red. You couldn’t believe her words at first. Did Haewon want you to…? Without hesitation, you pulled her closer and smashed your lips against hers. Your gamble pays off as she wraps her arms around your neck, moaning into your mouth. With newfound confidence, your hands explore more of her body, tracing her every curve. Your right hand cups her plump ass cheek while your other hand gently squeezes her breast, giving you the perfect chance to shove your tongue inside of her mouth as she opens it to moan. The sweet taste of strawberry lip gloss covers your taste buds as your tongues squirm in an erotic dance.

You eventually break the kiss as the need for oxygen manages to trump your carnal desires. Haewon stares deep into your eyes as she catches her breath, her hand snaking down your torso before stopping on your erect bulge. A low groan escapes your lips from the contact, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“C-can I touch your cock?” she asks, her voice trembling. You always saw Haewon as an outgoing bundle of energy, so seeing her this timid and horny made you go feral. With a nod, you lower your swimming trunks, revealing your rock hard cock to her in all its glory. Haewon gasps as she kneels in front of you, inspecting your full length with wide eyes. The sight of her innocent face next to your cock would be forever etched into your mind.

“Oh my god, you’re so big, Minhyuk,” she whispers in awe, gently wrapping her fingers around your member. Her hands felt like Heaven against your cock as they clumsily stroked it. “U-um, I’ve never done this before. Can you help me?”

“Y-yeah, sure. Uh, why don’t you try kissing it first?” you suggest. Haewon obediently complies as she places gentle kisses on your shaft, staining it with her lip gloss. Each kiss sends a shockwave of dopamine throughout your entire body.

“Is that okay?” Haewon’s large eyes look up at you, searching for approval.

A smile grows on your face as you pat her head. “Yes, that’s great, Haewon. You should try sucking it now.”

Haewon giggles excitedly before taking the tip of your cock into her mouth, running her tongue against your slit. A moan escapes your mouth as your hands instinctively reach for the back of her head, encouraging her to take in more of you. You would’ve never guessed that she was inexperienced with how easily your cock slides down her throat. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt before - pure ecstasy.

“F-fuck, Haewon. You’re so g-good, holy shit..”

Lust takes control of your body, your fingers interlocking with her hair as you roughly fuck her face. Haewon’s eyes well up with tears, but she makes no move to pull away, happily accepting your whole length. Saliva dripped from her mouth, the dirty image only fueling your arousal. Without warning, you shot your load down Haewon’s throat, the heavenly feeling of her mouth becoming too much for you to handle. After what feels like an eternity of cumming, you release her from your grasp. Haewon collapses backwards onto the sand, drool and cum staining her perfect face.

“S-Shit, are you okay?!” you ask, worried you may have been too rough on her.

Haewon props herself up and smiles at you. “Th-that was… i-incredible…” she stammered, catching her breath. “C-can you put it inside me? P-please?”

Her words reinvigorate you causing your cock to become hard once again. You quickly pull Haewon to her feet and untie her top, tossing it aside to reveal her ample breasts. Your mouth latches onto her tits while you shove your free hand inside of her bottoms, rubbing her moist slit.

“Oh fuck! That feels so good, Minhyuk…” Haewon whimpers as she plays with your hair. Any ounce of common sense left in your mind was thrown out the window as your only goal right now was to pleasure the girl of your dreams in every way possible. Your heart chugged like the engine of a steam train as you worshiped Haewon’s body with every flick of your tongue and every swipe of your finger against her heat. Eventually, you detach your mouth from her breasts, staring into her eyes while you finger her pussy.

You lean into her ear and whisper, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I-I like you, Haewon.” You curl your fingers inside of her, coercing a high-pitched moan out of her as her body is reduced to putty in your hands.

“I-I l-like you too, Min- Ah, fuck! P-please fuck me!” she exclaims. Haewon holds onto your shoulders for balance, nibbling on your neck to muffle her erotic noises. Her confession only increased your skyhigh libido, ripping her bottoms away and lining up your cock with her dripping pussy. Slowly, you thrust forward, impaling her with your erection.

“H-holy shit…” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

“A-are you okay, Haewon?” you asked, pausing your motions to check up on her.

“Y-yes, k-keep going please. Fuck, y-you’re so big…” Haewon looked up at you with pleading eyes. You could’ve sworn her irises turned into hearts for a second.

You continue thrusting forward, catching her lips in a kiss that was much gentler than the one before, eventually bottoming out inside of her. Gripping her supple thighs, you mentally thank Jaewon and Junseo for dragging you to the gym as you lift Haewon’s body with ease. You increase your pace, each thrust punctuated by Haewon’s cute whimpers and the occasional “fuck”, “ah”, and “yes”. Her ample breasts bounced in front of your eyes as Haewon threw her head back with pleasure. You still couldn’t believe that you were fucking your crush on the beach.

The pressure built up inside of you as you savored the feeling of her warm, tight cunt around your penis. You did your best to hold on for as long as possible, but the sensation was becoming overwhelming. “H-Haewon… I-I’m gonna… c-cum…” you groaned.

“F-fuck… C-cum in me, M-Minhyuk… I-I wanna feel you fill me up…” The vulgar words coming out of her mouth were enough to send you over the edge as you shot your second load deep inside of her womb. Haewon continued to bounce on your cock, her own orgasm taking over. Your legs eventually give out as both of your naked bodies collapse onto the sand, your cock never leaving the warmth of her pussy. Haewon laid on top of you, planting kisses on your neck and chin as you caught your breath.

“That… was fucking amazing, Minhyuk,” she giggled, tracing random patterns on your chest with her index finger. You wrapped your arms around her, the warm rays of sunshine beating down on the two of you.

Eventually, the two of you get up and put on your discarded bathing suits. “We should do this again sometime,” you quipped. Haewon laughs and grabs your face, planting a gentle peck on your lips.

“I would like that a lot.” Hand in hand, you return to your friend group, ready to enjoy the rest of your day at the beach with your new girlfriend.

#nmixx #oh haewon #nmixx haewon #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #nmixx x male reader #nmixx x male oc #nmixx haewon x male reader #nmixx haewon x male oc #smut #haewon smut #nmixx haewon smut

925 notes · View notes

etherealstar-writes · 8 months

Text

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 3

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: three

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

brightness

we have training tomorrow

just a reminder

the REAL karate kid

ughh

kie

what's the bet leah and georgia

are gonna be a show off

while niamh's gonna be off in her own world

neev

hey! no need to call me out like that

i do focus

stairway

i am not a show off

willybum

me neither!

door knob

you guys need proof?

the imposter

damn

you guys got that athletic build 💪

the REAL karate kid

......

willybum

.......

stairway

.......

elton

.......

earpsy

.......

brightness

.......

neev

.......

lotte

.......

maya

.......

daily

.......

the imposter

HOW MANY OF YOU ARE ON THIS CHAT??

elton

i think the rest are asleep

the imposter

are you guys all part of some cult omg

and why do you guys have like

group training together?

that's kinda sus

the REAL karate kid

honestly it's kinda fun and chaotic

lotte

are we all gonna ignore the fact that

nobbs has photos of georgia's and leah's muscles?

door knob

are we just gonna keep referring

the imposter as imposter?

or if anyone's gonna ask her name?

the imposter

your name's nobbs??

LMAO THE DOOR KNOB MAKES SO

MUCH MORE SENSE NOW 😭💀

also

my name's y/n

neev

that is such a pretty name

the imposter

thank you!

elton

you know

you never really answered

lotte's question nobbs ....

willybum

it's because i'm her favourite duh

stairway

um it's actually me

hence why she sent a photo of mine first

meado

and here we go again

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

elton

hello

@everyone

why is everyone so dead right now

earpsy

maybe it's the fact that we just finished training

the REAL karate kid

and because we actually have lives

elton

that's a lie and we all know it

the imposter

how was training?

neev

tiring

feeling quite dead rn

willybum

funny actually

lessi slipped and slammed

face first into the training mat

elton

that was the highlight of my day

the REAL karate kid

glad to know my misery

causes you guys happiness

rusty metal

guys

i stumbled upon the best photo ever

my eyes have been blessed

stairway

omg

bronzy in her active era??

daily

ooh do show

lotte

it's intrigued my interest now too

rusty metal

neev

LMAO

willybum

WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET THIS

the REAL karate kid

CRYING RN 😭💀

elton

STOP 😭

this is a masterpiece

i'm saving this

stairway

she's a barbie gurl 💅

earpsy

PLS 💀

willybum

i'm blocking yall

stairway

your eyes just can't handle this much art

the imposter

hello friends of y/n!

i was trying to take photos of y/n

and accidentally clicked into here

neev

hello friend of y/n

the imposter

WHAT IS THAT PHOTO OF LEAH WILLIAMSON 😭

is this some kind of football fan cult??

some of your usernames are familiar in a strange way

idk why i can't seem to place it

elton

hmm quite strange

don't you all agree?

stairway

hmm very strange indeed

brightness

yes

daily

indeed

willybum

very

the REAL karate kid

where's y/n?

the imposter

standing in front of me

has no clue i'm on this chat

i'll send a photo

hang on

(lets just pretend they can see your face in the photo)

now she wants her phone back

goodbye strange strangers

elton

......

stairway

......

willybum

......

the REAL karate kid

......

neev

......

rusty metal

......

brightness

......

daily

......

doorknobs

......

meado

......

kie

......

earpsy

......

maya

......

lotte

......

lauren 1

......

stairway

the whole chat rn:

elton

i was not expecting this today-

the REAL karate kid

toone, this is literally the best

most dumbest thing you've done-

neev

honestly

lotte

my eyes have been blessed twice today

willybum

wow

the REAL karate kid

you can get my number wrong

anytime toone

part four here

#lionesses x reader #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #alessia russo x reader #ella toone x reader #georgia stanway x reader #niamh charles x reader #woso #woso fanfics

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lethalchiralium · 11 months

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Mirrorball | John Price x F!Reader

a/n: me?? posting??? in this economy?? unheard of. this is definitely not me writing needy price whaaaat

warnings: mentions of injury, trauma

summary: You’re trying to sleep, but someone wakes you up with a long awaited phone call. OR, John’s outside of your door, begging for forgiveness.

It was a work day tomorrow and someone had the audacity to call you in the middle of the night. Your eyes tried to blink away the murkiness of sleep as you answered the call, not even paying attention to the ‘Unknown Caller’ blinking at the top of the screen.

“Hey.”

Your head fell back into your pillow, your hand holding your phone to your ear.

“Yes, John.”

“Don’t be that way.”

Your hand gripped your phone a little more, now that you were waking up more.

“Well, seeing that it’s…” You pulled the phone from your ear, looking at the time on the screen, “2:45 in the morning on a Tuesday, you’re only calling ‘cause you’re bored.”

There was a scoff on the line. “Why can’t you just accept that maybe I’m worried about you?”

Your eyes were still closed, your eyebrows furrowed and you mumbled, “Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up.”

There was silence. Just the warmth that flooded through your chest every time you heard his low breathing; a signal, a waypoint, your reminder that no matter how much you want to turn away, there’s no escape from your desperate need for John Price. Your fingernails dug into your pillowcase, tears that have broken glass now soak the silk underneath your head. You could almost smell the rich tobacco that seemed to envelop his clothes and his worn skin - he was the feeling of sunlight reflected on shattered glass. Shining just for you.

You could imagine his hand curling your hair behind your ear, his soft lips pressing kisses into your hairline, your shoulder, your spine. You had memorized the way his hand would gently graze over your side, featherlight movement as he would whisper his promises, his mantras, but ignore your desires.

“M’here.”

Even in your half-asleep state, you felt a rush of confusion.

“You were in Afghanistan last night.”

“I lied.”

“You seem to do that often, John.”

Silence again. Your eyes opened to your dimly light room, the small light plugged into your wall helped you make out everything in your room. The jacket of his that still was tossed over the back of your favorite chair, most of his clothes hung in your closet - deep browns and dreary grays that were pressed against your bright blues, greens, and yellows. His breathtaking fiancé dressed in all of the colors that made you feel happy - but all were a farce, a lie wrapped up in a fairy tale. You weren’t happy. How could you be happy when your whole world decided to break your heart?

“Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up, John. I mean it.”

Silence. You could hear the quiet bustle of Liverpool outside your window, the street lamp’s warm light hidden by your dark curtains. Curtains he used to move at this time of night to open your window, he would burn the end of his cigar and watch the city lights.

Now, he stood outside your front door, without even a knock.

“What I did to you wasn’t right, I knew that then and I know that now. Screaming at you and telling you I never wanted to see you again was the biggest mistake of my life. I love you. And love isn’t supposed to be like that. I-I was… I was scared. I am scared. I’m scared of what you think of me, I was scared of what almost happened to me, I’m terrified to lose you.”

“Stop.”

“Please. I’m here.”

“What do you want, John?”

“I want come home.“

Another pause.

“Please let me in.”

Your stomach lurched.

You hated that you sat up, lethargic body dragged behind your mind as you silently made your way to your front door; cold phone pressed to your ear. He was a warm light, you were like a late night moth - hearing the familiar hum of one John Price.

“I’ll do anything, love. Please.”

You stretched your arms as you stood on your tallest tip toes, it reminded you of spinning on your highest heels, just for him. You could remember his hands, gentle on your hand and waist as he had laughed deeply in that ballroom all those years ago. The way his touch never differed from anything gentle or soft, even as he held your hips in late nights, pulling loud moans and cries from you as he fucked you passionately. The way he whispered your name like gospel as you sobbed into his chest. It was impossible to forget what he’s done for you - and what actions he made that caused you pain.

He was made of a broken spotlight, his light reflected on you. Your mirror pieces had fell long ago, your fingers still bleed from picking up your shards, from pressing them into place so when he came around, you would reflect his slowly dimming light just like a mirror ball.

Your hand pulled open the door, gazing at the man you so painstakingly loved - face dirty, scarf disheveled around his neck, beanie snug on his head. You didn’t care that his rough hands gripped your hips, metaphorically pressing in the glass shards like always. He pulled you to him, your face landed in his scarf as he wrapped you in his freezing embrace. You moved to rest your chin on top of the scratchy wool, your lips right next to his ear.

“Are you hurt?”

He walked both of you into the apartment, skillfully kicking the door closed as he held you tighter. A fist on your lower back, a steel grip on your shoulder as his nose was firmly pressed into your (bonnet/hair). You could feel his chest, how it didn’t dare expand - he was holding his breath. As if he let you slip, that the mirrorball he adored would shatter into a thousand pieces. Your hand pushed into the back of his ribcage, moving in soothing circles.

“Breathe, John.”

You expected a harsh exhale, something loud in your ear, but all you received was a soft sigh through his nose. The freezing clothes that clung to him began to warm, his heartbeat erratic - you could feel it in his back, right behind his heart.

“Are you hurt?” You asked again.

He didn’t answer, silence was his weapon of choice now. He was full of words on the phone, telling you things you wished to hear earlier - oh shit, your phone. The phone you dropped on the floor before opening the door, hopefully it wasn’t broken. You had so many of him on there. So many photos of him hanging off your arm, lips pressed against your soft skin, eyes gazing lovingly at you.

“What do you need?”

You need me. I know you like the back of my hand.

That’s when he let go, pulling away from you to show fresh tears on his flushed face. Your eyes widened with concern, you tried to reach his face but his hands intercepted yours - holding them with a firm grip.

“I don’t need you to forgive me.” His voice was melancholy, a melody of grief and fear that you had never heard before. “I am an awful man. Rubbish. I hurt the one good thing in my life because I thought you hating me would be easier for me to die with.”

Your stomach coiled up into a knot, tight and uncomfortable.

Your fiancé held back a sob as he spoke, “I got hit. I almost died, all I could think about was how much you would hate yourself because I made you hate me. I don’t want that. I want to be by your side forever, I want you to put me in my place, I want you to take everything from me because I am not worthy of anything without you.” His hands squeezed yours. “I want to lay beside you for as long as I live. I want to only know you for the rest of my life. I want to do everything you ask of me.”

“What do you need, John?” Your voice softer than ever before.

He blinked away tears. “I need you to teach me how to truly be a better man. I need you to guide me. I need you to love me. I need you.”

You had told yourself a thousand times that he would never crawl on his knees to you, that his pride would destroy you, that he would never show weakness to you - but here he was. Showing his belly, giving you the chance to deliver the final blow.

You supposed he was waiting for it. Waiting for your teeth to sink in and rip him apart like a chew toy, scream at him until your voice ran hoarse, push him away until he fell onto his ass. But… you couldn’t. You were ready to walk away from him ten minutes ago, but now it’s… terrifying. Walking away from the one thing keeping you whole.

You squeezed his hands. “Marry me, John Price.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he was about to question you. But you spoke again. “Marry me today and show me that all that you said was a promise.”

He didn’t nod for long as he let go of your hands, grabbed your face and kissed you - pushing your head backwards as he pressed his entire body to you. You didn’t care anymore if he cut himself on your glass, you were sure he would fix the edge just to keep you happy.

Keep you spinning like his favorite mirrorball, shining just for him.

#lethalchiralium #keri writes #call of duty #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #john price x female reader #john price x f!reader #captain price #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x female reader #captain price x f!reader #captain john price x female reader #captain john price x f!reader

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leah-lover · 6 months

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Closed for maintenance . Leah Williamson × reader

Reader embarks on a new journey with a new club. Part 1.

My day started out like any other in the past 4 weeks. The beeping sound of my alarm wakes me up, I dread the thought of getting up even though I still do, I get my shit together, I leave for training, come back a few hours later and go to bed early.

My days have been blending in ever since that heart shattering break up. However, today had a little twist to it. As I was leaving the gym to go to the physioroom I got called into the Manager's office. Upon getting in, the coach said “hey, so I called you here to let you know that we are going to transfer you. You have been an absolute killer for our team. You will always have a place between us. The thing is your dynamic with the team has been off which has been causing some tension. And the best thing I thought to do was to transfer you this January.” Shock couldn't describe the state I was in. Running on autopilot, I got out of the coach's office, got my things and departed home without talking to anybody, which has been my pattern this past month.

My head was in the clouds for the entire drive, and when I got home I threw myself on the coach and started sobbing. About 20 minutes later I called my best friend the only person I trusted more than anything.

“Hey are you okay? The girls are worried about you, tell me what is going on please”said kristie with a worried tone

“Well tell Sam and the team not to worry anymore. Emma has decided to ruin my life and get rid of me. I won't be at Chelsea anymore. I am basically fired.” I replied, now more angry than sad.

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you transferred where? when? How ? Are you okay? Did you tell her?.” She asked.

“I think it will be announced tomorrow at the meeting. I don't know anything kristie Chelsea is home. Niamh is home. I can't live without them.” I replied, memories of Niamh and I fludding my brain.

“Sure you will. I love you bubs no matter where you go.” She said, “Me too buddy, me too.” I added, sadness creeping into my heart again.

—-------—---—------------------------------------

It has been an eventful week. It was announced that I would leave Chelsea for Arsenal. The topic has been the talk of the town. From newspapers, Instagram pages, fans on Twitter, Arsenal fans were excited to have me. However, Chelsea fans were bitter I was let go. Most of the mean comments were directed at Emma and Chelsea which I thought was fair. I was the leading goal scorer in the WSL and we were on a great track record to win the league again.

I got a new apartment, and a new car. I tried to begin again. A clear slate and a focus on winning with my new team, the gunners.

Today was the first day of practice. The girls are really nice. This team, this family, seem really gelled together and they seem to start getting me out of my dark hole.

“Hello you.” Said Beth, “I hope you are well and I well we want to let you know you are very welcome and we hope you have a great time with us here.” she added. “Me too “ I responded.

__________________________________

It has been over 2 months since that last interaction with Beth, who I can call my best friend now. Her, Steph ,Katie and I have been inseparable. Arsenal have been on a winning streak since I got here. I seem to enjoy the way they play and interact with each other.

The player I enjoy hanging out with the most is my second Captain, which I can never fully admit.

Leah has been fun, heart warming, safe and a friend and a good one. I can't let whatever is happening affect my career again. I dated a teammate before it ruined my career, or so I thought.

“Ladies, how are we feeling about a party? We won again thanks to wonderful strickers. Let's have a party, we deserve it.” Said Katie on the bus. Shortly after a plan was made.

We went to a bar, we drank, sang, danced, and it was that time of the night where I got hungry for warmth. Human connection however unmeaningful. So I kissed the first girl I fancied.

That's when I felt a hand separate me from the girl and drag me outside.

“You are drunk, let's go home before you do anything you will regret.” Said Leah with an angry tone. “ Let go of me, I am lonely. I need this, please let go.” I pleaded with the alcohol affecting my judgment.

“ You are a fool if you think I would let you put yourself in danger. You are important to me, you should know that. Now let's go.” She ordered.

“ I am not going anywhere with you, you are not my girlfriend.” I protested.

That's when she pulled me in for a small kiss. That felt reassuring but not abusive of my drunk state.

“ You are not kissing anyone or going anywhere tonight. Home it is. Now stop complaining and get in please.” She said with a pour on her face. I did as she said, my mind still on the feeling of her lips.

This is going to be a lot to unpack in the morning.

#alessia russo #espwnt #magdalena eriksson #mary earps #mapi leon #niamh charles #woso #ona batlle #woso fanfics #woso imagine #aresenal #leah williamson #woso community #woso x reader #arsenal wfc

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ktaerssoi · 5 months

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hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE

jealously is my middle name

summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.

(678)

kate martin x reader

Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.

By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.

there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."

needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.

"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.

"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.

you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.

she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.

you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.

"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.

"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)

"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."

She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.

"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.

"not jealous my ass."

you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)

it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.

okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate

#wcbb #kate martin x reader #kate martin #caitlin clark #paige bueckers #omg shes so fine

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chukys-mouthguard · 3 months

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I have a request, Could you do where the reader is Luke's twin sister and they are it is there 21st birthday and Jack and Quinn are there to celebrate with them and Luke and the reader both get really drunk and Jack and Quinn take care of the when they are both drunk and hungover

Also love your fic's read them every time you post

seeing double

Genre: fluff

Featuring: Hughes brothers x Luke’s twin sister reader

Summary: it’s you and your twin brother luke’s 21st birthday and your brother’s Jack and Quinn have the pleasure of taking care of you both

Note: I’ve never written with the reader being a sister before, so this was new to me, but i think this still turned out cute 🫶🏼

“What time is it??”

You shouted over the music as you frantically searched the room for a phone to check yourself.

“Uhhh, 11:55.”

Your eyes wide as you quickly ran to the back door to look for the boys. Finding them all hanging around the fire pit shotgunning beers.

“Luke Warren Hughes! Get your ass in here and take a shot with me at midnight!”

It was yours and your twin brother Luke’s 21st birthday, well almost, and you were a bit more intoxicated than he was. But you were determined to change that, wanting to be sure that your twin brother was actually letting loose for the night. Luke not being much of a partier, he left that to Jack. But your older brothers were doing their best to get Luke to have more than just 2 beers for once.

The boys came in from the fire pit, joining you and your girl friends around the kitchen island as shots were passed around. Once everyone had a shot you noticed the time was now 11:58, hurrying to get out your toast before the clock struck midnight, finally signaling your birthday.

“Life is a waste of time. Time is a waste of life. So why not get wasted all the time, and have the time of our life!”

The group throwing back the shots in unison, followed by a loud roar of happy birthday. You and Luke taking another shot just the two of you as your friends recorded videos for Snapchat, Jack and Quinn both laughing at the two of you knocking back tequila like it was water.

“There’s no way we make it to breakfast with mom and dad tomorrow.”

“Not a fucking chance!”

The group had settled on flip cup and pong as the two games of choice, which was music to your ears knowing Luke was a secret weapon when drunk.

“Uh oh, it’s the Hughes showdown!!”

Quinn and Jack somehow made a miraculous comeback to face you and Luke in the final round of beer pong.

“Luke, we cannot lose to them! We will never live it down!”

Luke nodded his head through hooded eyes, the tequila shots very much hitting him like a ton of bricks. Noticing him swaying back and forth, you’d realized you were most likely carrying the team this round. Chugging some water you did your best to sober up and be sure to beat your brothers and earn bragging rights.

“It all comes down to this Lukey! Your shot, don’t fuck it up!”

Quinn and Jack teased Luke as he could barely see the cup at the opposite end of the table. Your final shot had missed by a mile, and at this point you were in desperate need of your bed. The tequila rightfully kicking your ass after one too many shots.

“Fuck.”

Luke cursed as his ball completely missed the table, bouncing off into the other room as Quinn and Jack hugged in celebration. The bragging rights would surely be held over you and Luke’s heads for months.

“Don’t sweat it Lukey boy, you’ll get a shot at revenge one day.”

Jack tapped him on the shoulder as you threw back another shot, hoping the taste of alcohol would make you forget the embarrassing display you put on in that game of pong.

By 2am, you and Luke collectively had enough alcohol for the entire Michigan Hockey Team and you were feeling it. Both of you dozing off on the couch as the party had come to an end.

“Y/n, y/n! Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“I am in bed.” You groaned at Quinn, not wanting to move as you were very much comfortable on the couch squished next to Luke.

“Jack, can you take Luke? I’ll deal with y/n?”

Jack nodded as both boys picked the two of you up off the couch, Quinn carrying you while Jack simply threw Luke’s arm over his shoulder.

“Fuck Luke, stand up!”

Quinn laughed as Jack practically fell to the floor as Luke was purely dead weight. “Switch me, clearly your off season workouts aren’t cutting it!”

Jack rolled his eyes as he took you in his arms, letting Quinn take over with Luke.

“Jack, put me down.” The tequila now rearing its head as you grew nauseous from the boys carrying you.

“Y/n I’m taking you to bed, hush.”

Trying your best to fight out of Jack’s grip, you only made yourself more sick. Your hand immediately flying to your mouth, signaling to Jack you needed a toilet or a trash can, and fast.

“Shit, y/n don’t you dare!”

Jack sprinted to the bathroom with you in his arms, trying his best not to make the situation worse. Setting you down, he let you have a minute to hopefully settle your stomach, Jack never being good with puking.

“Do you need anything?”

He stood back as he watched you sitting on the floor, eyes closed as you took deep breaths, trying to calm your stomach.

“No, I think I’m-“

Before you could finish you were cut off by your nausea getting the best of you, Jack trying his best to be there for you despite him wanting to run as far away as possible.

“Jack, hold my hair please?”

“What? How?”

“Just grab my fucking hair like a ponytail and hold it back so I don’t puke on it!”

He cautiously made his way to you, grabbing a hold of your hair, standing as far back as he could, doing his best to distract himself from what was going on.

“Jack! Where are you?”

Hearing Quinn struggling carrying Luke down the hall, Jack called out, revealing your location only for Quinn to appear moments later.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you guys were in here….damnit.”

Quinn stopped to catch his breath as Luke groaned against his shoulder. “Quinn, I’m gonna yak.”

Jack sighed as he looked from Luke to you, wondering how he and Quinn got roped into dealing with you two knuckle heads.

“Look, I get you guys are twins, but really? Going as far as to puke together? Can’t you do anything without the other person?”

#luke hughes fluff #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes blurb #nhl imagine #nhl fics #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fluff

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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 months

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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁'𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝘁 ; 𝘵𝘻11 ୨୧

➪ summary: pictures and text messages of her and her brother's best friend leak and she stays curled up in her room, not talking to anyone. so mason calls up her best friend and soon enough, trevor is on a plane to england

➪ warnings: things being leaked, crying, reader thinks her brothers hate her, crappy friends

➪ word count: 1.3k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: red, white, and royal blue is 100% the inspiration to this fic and yes i did basically copy the phone call and speech but its just too cute to ignore. i literally am in love with this movie. part two will be out tomorrow i hope! this would’ve been out earlier but i took a nap (shocking i know)

part two || tz11 masterlist || nhl masterlist || new taglist || navigation

Nothing was how it should be. They were supposed to be careful, they were careful. They were only seen together when it would make sense for them to be together; when he was in town for a game, when he was supposed to be hanging out with her brothers, or when he had a game against the Devils or the Canucks. And when they were seen together, they made sure everything was strictly platonic: no hand touches, stolen glances, nothing.

However, maybe they should’ve accounted for the fact that one, her friends were journalists, and two, her friends weren’t really her friends in the first place. They had a few classes together in college, back when she was still undecided, but despite that? They only found her interesting because of her last name and who shared it.

Somehow she was too predictable, her password was as basic as it got. It was the day Trevor asked her to be his girlfriend, they’re anniversary. It was the best day of both of their lives but now it was the root of all their problems. It wasn’t the biggest scandal on the dance floor, there were things much worse going on in the NHL and the world in general. No one would care about this besides the Zegras and the Hughes families and the girls who were too obsessed with hockey players and their relationships for their own good.

She was studying abroad in England this past year and she couldn’t help but fall in love with it. She had decided to extend her stay into the fall semester, not wanting to go back home. This sort of worked in her favor, she was 3,444 miles from Jack and Luke and 4,632 miles from Quinn. She was in a different time zone, country, and continent than them. All she had to do to avoid them was not answer her phone.

She was good at that, blocking out social media and her phone as a whole. Growing up the sister of hockey players and her mom being who she was in the hockey world, she got used to the hate and backlash she got from not wanting to do hockey. Her phone was shut off and thrown into her desk drawer. Her friends tried to comfort her but were to no avail, she was too worried about what other people thought about it.

Not only had pictures of them been put out into the world but their text messages as well. However, she couldn’t remember a time she left her phone unattended. She hadn’t spoken to Trevor in two weeks, she hadn’t spoken to anybody besides her roommates in two weeks. She had seen a couple of articles and videos that were spreading, the one of Trevor’s interviews where he was addressing the situation was not only the biggest one but the most recent one.

It was before the game, that the reporter had asked him about how everything in the media that was speculating had impacted him and his play. To which he responded with, “Y/n and I are together and have been since the beginning of the season. And whether people choose to support or hate it, isn’t my problem nor my business. We’re happy and hope everyone can support that decision and respect our privacy. I fell in love with a girl who happens to be related to my best friend. How is this affecting my mindset? I wouldn’t say it has, I’m still playling, and Greg still thinks I’m playing as best as I can and even better. I’m worried about her, that’s for sure. She hasn’t had the best track record with the media.”

He said a few more words, none of which mattered to y/n. She wasn’t sure if she cried more because of what he said or the situation. She curled up on the chair in the corner of the room, reading a book. Her friends looked at her sadly, they hated the fact that she had gone back to her reserved nature.

Trevor on the other hand was acting like it wasn’t bothering him, he couldn’t hide himself from the media or anything really like she could. But, it was eating him alive. He didn’t know if she was okay or if something had happened or if she was ignoring him. He was too desperate to know if he was okay so he attempted to reach out to all three of her brothers but he got nothing back in return.

It wasn’t until Mason walked into his room with his phone in hand, “I called her friend for you.”

Trevor looked at him with wide eyes, “What?”

“Thank me later.”

Her friend had been walking up the stairs to their apartment when she got the call from Mason, they had met when y/n and Trevor took them along on a trip to ensure that no rumors would start. She had practically run the rest of the way and bolted into the apartment. She walked over to y/n and handed her the phone.

She reached out for it and held it up to her ear, “Hello?”

“Baby!”

Her voice stuck in her throat along with the sob that had been forming for a while. “Trevor? Oh my god, are you alright?”

“I’m hanging in there. Are you okay?”

She paused, “No. No, I’m not okay.”

“You know what, I’m coming to London tonight. Just hold on until I get there.”

“Hurry please.”

And just as he promised, 8 hours later he was standing in her apartment, opening his arms for her. She ran into them once she heard him call out and buried her head into his chest. Trevor sunk to the floor with her, his back pressed up against the wall, “It’s okay. I’m here. I got you.”

He could feel her body racked with sobs and he couldn’t help but start crying himself. He had torn himself apart these past two weeks as he waited to hear from her and knowing how much she had been in pain had hurt him. He picked her up soon after and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down on the bed. He crawled in next to her and wrapped his arms around her once more.

“Have you heard from your brothers yet?”

“Not a word. Not that I have checked my phone since the article came out.”

He frowned at her, tightening his hold, “Sometimes I wonder if part of their acceptance is just to forget it ever happened in the first place.”

This made him laugh a little as he pulled back to look at her. He moved the piece of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. His face changed when he realized that her small smile had turned back into a frown, “I feel so lost. They used to adore me, used to protect me, but now. It feels like they just wish I never existed.”

“Hey, they still love you.” She just blinked at him, “I’m sure if you looked at your phone they would just be wondering if you were okay.”

“I liked your speech, it was very put together.”

He smiled at her, “It made me very proud to be your girlfriend.”

“Hey, I’m always proud to be your boyfriend.”

She giggled and kissed his cheek, “You know what I mean you dork.”

“Speaking of boyfriends and girlfriends. Did you know Mason and Lia were dating?”

She perked up, “No! When did that happen?”

“Apparently-”

“Hey.”

The two turned and looked at Lia, “What’s up?”

“Your brothers are here.”

𝗠𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ୨୧

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bluecollarmcandtf · 10 months

Text

Am I Acting Weird?

Walking home, I just can't shake the feeling that something is off, but I can't figure out what! I asked Coach about it before leaving practice, but he just laughed. He said I was weird not to appreciate the effort I've put into football lately.

He's right. I've been busting my ass, but that's exactly what I'm talking about!

I've never given a damn about improving my rank or even showing up to conditioning! I just wanted to hang out with my buds and mess around with the cheerleaders.

But now, it's like none of that matters! I've skipped the last three parties to bulk up at the gym! I haven't been able to drink anything other than protein shakes, and my meals are always loaded with meat. It's like I can't control myself anymore! Why can't I just take a night off and drink beers with the rest of the boys?

I let out a long groan of frustration and trudge upstairs. My younger sibling Max laying on the couch while the TV blares his favorite show.

Max is the weird one! He's like 18, and all he does is play videogames and sit around all day.

I quickly strip off my sweaty football uniform and toss it into the corner of my bedroom. My muscles are already tired and aching from yesterday's practice, so I can't imagine how sore I'll be feeling when I wake up for tomorrow's early morning workout; something I only recently started doing everyday.

Like every other night, I pull my usual at-home clothes on; a stiff white shirt, black apron, and bowtie. This outfit might seem weird, but it feels nice, especially when I tie everything up extra tight. Max showed me how. Sure, it's not comfortable at all, and I look like a waiter more than anything, but that doesn't bother me.

My little brother is annoying as hell, but he's usually right. Me and dad used to tease him all the time, but we've come around since then.

Now that I'm finally at home and suited up, I can feel my shoulders relax. Whatever was bothering me before can wait. I pull some shiny black shoes on, slip a pair of white gloves over my hands, and carefully step back downstairs. It's important that I make as little noise as possible when I'm home. I wouldn't want to disturb anybody.

"Hey, big bro," Max calls from the couch, "Your home."

"Yes, Max," I answer, taking my usual position next to the couch.

This is where I stand when I'm in the living room anymore. It's just where I feel most comfortable, and it's right next to a little cart of useful supplies. I grab a towel and sling it over my shoulder. It's always a good idea to have one on me when I'm at home. Never know when I'm going to need it.

"My shoes could use a polish while we chat," Max adds, flipping through the channels.

"You got it, Max."

See, the towel does come in handy. I quickly fetch a container of shoe polish on my little cart and kneel by his feet. I've been polishing Max's shoes for a few weeks now, so I've gotten pretty good at it. He doesn't really appreciate the art of it, but I guess it's just something that I'm into.

"How's football? You the best player yet?" Max asks nonchalantly from above.

"No, Max. I've gotten a lot bigger lately, but the quarterback is still a lot more muscular and skilled."

He rolls his eyes and adds, "Give it time I guess. You're going to keep at it until your a professional player like the ones on TV."

I stop buffing his sneaker for a second and glance up at him. His attention is now completely fixated on an NFL videogame.

"Max, that's just it," I admit, "Lately I've been working out and bulking up like I'm some pro-athlete, but I'm not. I don't think I even want to be! That life just seems so grueling."

Max pauses his game and looks down at me solemnly.

I avert my gaze and add, "It's just weird that lately I've put so much work into something I don't want."

"You think that's weird?" he dryly raises an eyebrow.

I just shake my head and turn my attention back to my brother's sneaker. It's going to need a lot more polish before it shines.

The door opens and our father arrives home.

"Hey, boy," he dismissively calls when he sees me on the floor. Then he notices my brother lounging on the couch.

"Max," he says with a bit more emphasis, dipping his head a little.

"Dad, I'm really hungry right now, so could you get a move on with dinner?" Max answers.

"Of course, Max."

Our father immediately drops his keys and briefcase and shuffles into the kitchen. I've always admired him. He played football in college too, so we've always bonded over sports.

But lately, he only seems interested in his work. I rarely see him because he always stays late and picks up night shifts at the office. It's done wonders for his career, so I guess that's good. He's been given a few raises recently for all the extra effort he's put in, but I can tell it's taking a bit of a toll on the guy.

"Big bro, just look at Dad," Max explains to me, "He doesn't complain about anything being weird, does he? He just keeps his mouth shut and goes to work. Be more like him."

I don't speak as I switch to shining his other sneaker. Max is probably right. If Dad can power through long hours in the office to bring home a decent salary, then I can surely shut up and dedicate myself to a career in football.

It doesn't take long for our father to return to the living room.

"The food is almost ready, but here are some drinks while you wait, Max," he says.

Our dad seems minorly annoyed by the starched clothing he has on, but that suit is his typical home outfit. It looks even more stiff and uncomfortable than my get up, but I guess he's willing to put up with it.

Max stands before I can finish at his feet and grabs a glass from our father.

"Whoops, here you can finish them," he says after a swig of wine, kicking the shoes off in my direction, "And then take care of the laundry in my room."

"Sure thing, Max," I answer, but he's already turned his attention to dad.

"Is your wallet in your briefcase?" he asks, "I'm taking a few friends out tonight."

"It is, Max, and the car keys are next to it. The car is low on gas. Should I take it to a station before you go out?"

"Yeah," Max adds between sips, "Take care of that while I eat."

"Of course, Max."

"Oh, and Dad."

"Yes, Max?"

"Start making double portions for big bro's meals. He needs to bulk up faster if he's going to usurp the current quarterback."

I pretend not to hear, and finish up my work with Max's shoes. Maybe my new focus on football hasn't been that strange after all. It's not really the life I thought I'd be pursuing, but it's kind of nice being bigger and more athletic than I used to be. It's not really weird if I think about it. Maybe I can even get a few more reps in after I finish Max's laundry.

I hope he has a good time out with his friends tonight. It's weird, but I don't really know what else I'd spend my time doing.

#gay hypnosis #mind control #hypno story #gay mind control #hypnotized #bow tie

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 1 year

Text

all things end - mingyu

summary: you grew up with mingyu. he was your first kiss. your first boyfriend. the first man you ever loved. some things just aren’t meant to last, but during some time apart you struggle to forget mingyu, and he does his best to get you back. because who could ever love you as much as he does?

word count: 12.7k

warnings: afab reader, some gendered terms. ex!mingyu / childhood friends to lovers so plenty of fluff and angst, uhhhh scheming cheol too

masterlist

“what?” cheol groans, answering the phone despite being in the middle of a workout.

“can i come over?” you ask meekly on the other end, and his heart twists.

“bad day?”

“yeah.”

“sure, i’ll be there in 20. come by whenever.”

“thank you,” you sniff, and he hangs up, finishing his last few reps before rushing to get back to his apartment. this is your third bad day this week. your breakup is, understandably, hitting you hard. cheol can’t help but wonder, if you’re so torn up about this, why did you leave mingyu at all? maybe one day he’ll finally ask, but for now he just heads home and shoots you a text asking what kind of ice cream you’ll need tonight.

“so i was walking my dog,” you say, scooping a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth before you continue, “and you know how gyu always liked taking him by that lake at sunset?”

“sure,” cheol nods. “was it sunset when you walked by and it made you think of mingyu?”

“well. yeah.”

“and that’s what prompted today’s spiral?” he asks, grabbing the ice cream from your cold hands so he can hack at it with his spoon.

“i am not spiraling,” you say, trying to swoop your spoon in but getting knocked away by your best friend. “rude.”

“you spiral every time something reminds you of mingyu,” he says, “or when someone mentions him, or, the most idiotic part, when you see him because someone thought you should stay friends despite the messy breakup.”

“i hate when you try to be the voice of reason,” you complain.

“i’m not trying, i am.”

“it’s annoying.”

“stop having problems then,” he says with a mouthful of ice cream. you get up and toss the blanket in your lap back onto the couch, and cheol whines, “where are you going?”

“you’re obviously no help so i’ll just go back home and cry myself to sleep or something.”

“no fair! don’t make me feel bad for you! you put yourself in this situation! i don’t even know why you and mingyu broke up in the first place!”

“i’ve told you a million times,” you whine, sitting back down and tossing your head into the armrest of the couch. “we just weren’t meant for each other anymore.”

“god, why does your answer get more vague every time?” cheol teases, kicking you lightly with his foot. “am i ever gonna get the real reason? did you have a big fight? he doesn’t want kids? you called his mom a hoe?”

“we didn’t fight, i didn’t call mrs. kim anything mean, and we definitely didn’t fight about kids,” you reply, and cheol smiles like the cheshire cat.

“lemme guess. you’ve both already agreed on baby names?”

“shut up.”

“is one of them at least seungcheol? cheol junior? come on, i deserve it,” he pleads, finally getting a laugh out of you.

“if by some act of god mingyu and i get back together and decide to have kids we will consider naming a potential child after you,” you say just to appease him, your heart twisting because you know you and mingyu won’t be together again for that to even be a possibility.

“i’m holding you to that,” he says smugly, and you roll your eyes, leaving it at that. you’re both quiet for a while, passing the ice cream back and forth. you like that cheol doesn’t take you too seriously when you’re like this, because you need the break from your own thoughts. but it’s nice like this too, just being around each other. you decide to break the silence when you notice what time it is, getting up for real. “where are you going now?”

“home,” you sigh. “i have to get up early tomorrow to take fred to the vet, so i should go to sleep.”

“ok,” cheol nods. “text me what flavor you want tomorrow night and i’ll pick it up on the way home from work.”

“i’ll try my best not to need this tomorrow, but thank you,” you say. “i appreciate it more than you know.”

“anytime y/n,” cheol smiles. “let me know when you get home!”

“will do. night cheol.”

you’re up bright and early the next morning to take fred in for his appointment before you have to go to work. it’s allergy season, and no one warned you that your sweet little man could have allergies worse than any human you’ve ever met. fred has a rash on his back that he keeps trying to lick, bite, and scratch, so your vet gave him some medicine and a cone of shame to keep him from bothering the area for a while. you’re laughing to yourself as you take him home, eager to put the cone on him, just to see what it looks like. once you have it on, you laugh again and snap a picture because, yes, he looks silly. you post it to your story and forget about it as you go about the rest of your day.

a little after lunch, mingyu is taking a break from staring at his computer and goes to check his phone. after refreshing instagram, his heart leaps when he sees your icon at the top of his page, alerting him to what you’ve posted. yeah, yeah, he shouldn’t still follow you technically, but he can’t help himself. he only lets his conscious stop him for a couple seconds before he’s tapping your icon and viewing your story, which is fred in his cone of shame. mingyu, who loved you so much but quite possibly loved fred more, freaks out. something must be wrong, and before he thinks better of it he texts you to ask what’s wrong.

you’re in a meeting when you get the text. you’re bored out of your mind, otherwise you would’ve just let it be. but your mind keeps wandering and now that you’ve heard the buzz of a message come through you can’t help yourself. you lift your phone just slightly to take a look, and you slam it back down when you see mingyu’s name lighting your screen. you do your best to ignore it through the rest of your meeting, but your mind keeps wandering back to him.

your lack of a reply has mingyu freaking out even more. he texts a couple more times, asking questions so hopefully when you do reply mingyu will get the information all at once. but all of those go unanswered too, and he can’t take it anymore. he calls you, biting his lip anxiously as he waits to find out what’s going on.

your phone rings as you’re leaving your meeting, and your heart drops when you see that it’s mingyu. you haven’t had time to read his texts, but if he’s been bothering you this much it must be serious. you take a breath, preparing for the worst, and then you accept the call.

“hello?” you ask meekly, and you hear mingyu sigh on the other end.

“y/n,” he says, relieved. “finally. what’s going on?”

“uh, nothing?” you reply. “i’m at work.”

“huh? why?!”

“it’s a wednesday? most people with jobs work on wednesdays,” you explain.

“no, i mean what’s going on with fred?” mingyu clarifies, and that’s when you notice the worry in his voice. you used to be able to pick up on his emotions instantly, and it sends a jab to your chest that it took you this long to realize he was upset.

“oh, he has allergies,” you laugh. “he uh, he was bothering a spot on his back so the vet gave him that collar to stop him from licking it.”

“so he’s ok?” mingyu asks, and you nod as you respond.

“he’s fine, just inbred probably,” you joke, earning a little nose snort from mingyu. “listen, uh, i’m at work, so-”

“yeah, yeah, go, sorry for bothering you,” mingyu replies. “give fred a hug for me.”

“will do. bye mingyu.”

“bye baby,” he says without thinking. he hangs up, realization hitting him a second too late. he thinks about texting you to apologize, but he’s bugged you enough today. maybe you didn’t hear it? he can just ignore it, right? it’s not like you’ll be talking to each other soon anyway, so maybe you’ll forget it eventually.

the first time mingyu called you baby was an accident, too. you were really close friends, but nothing more. you’ve known mingyu since you were five, when his family moved in next to yours and your parents made you play together because you were both around the same age.

for you, he was the stinky neighbor boy who would make your heart flutter when he pulled up weeds and handed them to you like a bouquet of flowers. for mingyu, you were the pretty neighbor he wasn’t quite sure how to talk to, so he did things like pull up weeds for you. he usually showed his love for you like that, in more physical ways than verbal. one time, when you were about ten and he was almost twelve, you told mingyu you really liked another neighbor’s bike and you wished you had one like it for yourself. he still remembers asking poor dokyeom if he could borrow it, and he also remembers how much his parents yelled at him when they found out he had given it to you as a surprise. you teased mingyu about that constantly, still laughing over the memory of him walking the bike back to dokyeom’s house with the saddest look on his face. that was the first time he realized he only wanted to do things that made you happy, and it was the first time you realized mingyu was more sweet than he was stinky.

the first time he called you baby was late one night at his house. you had been friends so long your parents weren’t worried about leaving you alone together (secretly hoping you would wipe the idiocy from your eyes and fall in love already). you were in the basement at mingyu’s, sitting comfortably next to him on the couch and watching a scary movie, despite your protests. mingyu wasn’t usually a scary movie guy either, but your friends at school had talked about this movie so much that mingyu got teased for not watching it.

he had summoned you like he always did, standing on the fence in his backyard and shouting your name until you opened your bedroom window. your houses were so close you didn’t have to yell once the window was open, so you spoke normally as you told mingyu firmly that you would not be watching that with him. it only took a few seconds of him pouting for you to cave, and once you were settled on the couch he said passively, “don’t worry baby, i’ve got you if it gets too scary.”

that one little word had haunted you for days, by far scarier than the movie you watched that night. mingyu had called you baby. that’s not what friends call each other, that’s boyfriend/girlfriend stuff. and that definitely wasn’t you and mingyu.

at least to the two of you it wasn’t. to everyone else, you were an item. it was so obvious you liked each other that guys wouldn’t approach you, and girls knew not to fall for mingyu because he would never fall back. it took ages for you two to notice, but once you did, your life had never been more lovely. to love mingyu and be loved by him is one of the best things you’ve ever done. his love is deep and he loves hard, and for some people that kind of passion can be a little scary. it was definitely scary for you, even if took a while for you to notice.

just like the first time he called you baby, that one slip up on the phone stuck with you. you couldn’t tell cheol about it, because he’d just question the whole break up again, so you sat with it quietly as you played the sound of mingyu’s voice over and over again in your head.

days later, mingyu had already forgotten about it. he was worried at first, but when the world didn’t implode immediately after he basically let it go. you’d assume it was a mistake, not him still pining for you despite what happened. so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

that weekend, you found yourself at hoshi’s for a party. his apartment was packed, so you were prepared to get tipsy and then head home. cheol wasn’t there yet so you were bothering seungkwan instead, and he was doing everything he could to get rid of you. that includes pushing you into someone’s firm chest on accident, and you almost fall through the floor when you look up and see mingyu staring back at you in shock. you’re just drunk enough that you want to have a little fun with him, a mischievous smirk slowly forming on your face.

“hey, baby,” you emphasize, watching as mingyu’s face starts out hopeful and then falls slightly.

“oh, haha,” he laughs nervously. “hey. um, so you noticed that the other day.”

“i did.”

“s-sorry,” he stutters. “old habits die hard.”

you nod in agreement as you take a sip of your drink, not so sure now, with his big brown eyes staring you down, why you thought talking to him was a good idea. you usually spent these parties pressed up against mingyu’s chest, back to front, his arm wrapped around you lazily. suddenly you’re cold just at the thought, and you ache to feel mingyu wrapped around you again.

“how’s fred?” he asks, trying to keep you next to him for as long as possible.

“he’s good,” you nod. “doesn’t need the cone anymore.”

“aw, lame, those pictures were funny,” mingyu pouts, and you have to look away so you don’t have the urge to kiss him.

“yeah, well, i still have it so i can put it back on him if he ever gets annoying.”

“that’s good,” mingyu nods now, awkwardly looking around for a way out of this conversation without being rude. he misses you, and he was totally aware of that, but it’s easier to push it away when you’re not standing so close, your perfume encasing him in memories of when you were his. now you’re not, and mingyu wants to go home. he’s searching the room for someone to talk to so this moment won’t be so pathetic, but cheol comes to the rescue.

“hey ex lovebirds,” cheol teases, bumping into you enough to make you stumble. mingyu reaches out to steady you, but cheol grabs you by the waist to keep you in place, and mingyu has to look away or else he might light on fire with anger. it’s a simple touch, he knows cheol doesn’t mean anything by it, but it always bothered him when other people tried to take care of you. that was his job, and he didn’t like anyone getting in the way of that. “why do you both look so miserable? it’s a party. drink, have fun, maybe kiss a little-”

“i do need another drink,” you say, taking the first chance to leave this situation. you look to both guys before asking, “do you need anything?” they shake their heads, so you escape to the kitchen and mentally mark the living room off. you can’t go back out there now. maybe it’s time for you to just leave.

“so,” cheol says, smirk hiding behind his cup. “how’s your plan going?”

“what plan?” mingyu asks, obviously confused.

“your plan to get y/n back,” cheol replies nonchalantly. “you have one, right? otherwise i don’t see why you aren’t leaving my friend alone after such a devastating break up.”

“i’m your friend too?! what about me and my feelings?”

“you annoy me more than y/n does, so i’m on her side,” cheol jokes, and mingyu groans. “but seriously. what’s going on here? she won’t tell me anything.”

“we broke up.”

“i know that. elaborate.”

“no,” mingyu says stubbornly, crossing his arms. “that’s between me and y/n. she won’t tell you so neither will i.”

“god, forget it. i’m on no one’s side, you’re both annoying,” cheol scoffs. “match made in heaven, you two.”

it’s quiet between them for a moment, both men just sloshing their drinks around in their cups, looking around at their drunken friends ruining hoshi’s lovely home. mingyu thinks for a second, deciding if he’ll actually admit this to cheol or not, but he slams the rest of his drink and turns to his friend before he can change his mind.

“i don’t have a plan,” he starts off. “yet. i’m trying to feel things out. i tried giving y/n space, and that’s not working for me. i love her, dude. i’ll only ever love her.”

“then go get her!” cheol says incredulously, motioning for the kitchen. “she’s hiding in there so she doesn’t have to see you, she’d be easy to corner-”

“but,” mingyu interjects. “but. i don’t know if she wants me back. she broke things off, so i’m trying to respect that. i just...i don’t know if she loves me anymore, man. so i want to make a plan, i want to get her back, but i’m afraid of what would happen if it doesn’t work. if she really doesn’t love me anymore.”

“hm,” cheol hums before he finishes his own drink. he takes a minute, smacks his lips, then turns to his idiotic best friend. “get her back. as soon as possible, actually. she’s a wreck without you. whatever happened for her to break up with you, i’m sorry. but she hasn’t stopped talking about you since. she still loves you man, no doubt. so i think you should try. and let me know how i can help, because, man, she’s really been bumming me out lately being all sad like this.”

“she’s sad?” mingyu asks, sadness appearing on his own features, making cheol roll his eyes.

“i said a whole essay and that’s the only thing you picked up on?”

“no, i get it,” mingyu nods. “i’ll think of something.”

“good,” cheol nods, then points to mingyu’s cup. “you want a refill?”

“do you mind grabbing it for me?” mingyu asks sheepishly.

“no,” cheol says in disbelief. “you can’t be hiding from her too.”

“what if i am!”

“i’m so close to revoking my offer to help,” cheol complains as he snatches mingyu’s cup from him. “i’ll be back.”

mingyu’s conversation with cheol set his mind in motion. he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since, as if that was new. but now he has a reason to spend all his time thinking about you. truthfully, mingyu isn’t sure he knows why you broke things off. at least, he doesn’t know how to explain it to people. he knows it must have made sense to you, and to him, enough for him to let you go. but he just remembers one very tearful conversation where you told him you couldn’t do this anymore, and that was it. he’d steal the sun to make your world brighter, so if he wasn’t making you happy anymore he wasn’t going to stick around if you didn’t want him there.

but now. now he’s wishing he had fought back. asked questions. tried to fix things instead of just running away. he still loves you, and if cheol’s right and you still love him, then what the hell are you doing?

your first date with mingyu was simple. since it took you both years to realize your mutual feelings for each other, there wasn’t much you hadn’t already done together. you already tried out new restaurants together, went to arcades and movies and concerts just the two of you. you even forced mingyu to get a membership at your favorite museum so you could drag him along anytime there was a new exhibit you were dying to see. so when mingyu finally asked you out, he wasn’t sure what to do. he wracked his brain for the fanciest restaurant he could think of, or searched for romantic movies playing around town, but none of it felt right. none of it felt like you.

that’s why your first date was simple. he knew he didn’t have to do something grandiose to impress you, so instead he invited you over to his dorm and made you dinner. he wouldn’t tell you what he was making, but when you walked in it smelled familiar. not just because mingyu’s scent wafted up around you when he welcomed you in, but because the food on the stove instantly reminded you of home. you tried peeking at the pots to see if you could figure out what it was, but mingyu cutely pushed you away.

“you’re gonna ruin the surprise!” he whines, childishly pushing you out to the living room. “you can’t be in here!”

“so you’re telling me i can’t be around my boyfriend on our first date?” you challenge him, and his force falters. “i want to spend time with you gyu, let me at least be in the kitchen with you.”

“promise not to look at the food though,” he says with a finger in your face. you grab his hand and wrap yours in his sweaty, warm grasp.

“i’ll keep my eyes on you, deal?”

“deal,” he smiles shyly, squeezing your hand before pulling you behind him into the kitchen. he starts working with just one hand, so you let go of his other one to make it easier for him to cook. “why’d you do that?”

“do what?” you ask, leaning against the counter so you can sit back and watch.

“let go,” he pouts, reaching for you again.

“you have to use both hands to cook, baby,” you laugh, and you watch with love in your eyes as he blushes a deep pink.

“right,” he nods. “ok. it’s almost done, but if you’re hungry there’s snacks in the fridge.”

“i’m good,” you say quietly, watching as mingyu returns to chopping something. you silently admire him as he works, your heart warming as it settles in your mind: mingyu is finally yours. your first love. your only love, probably, is your boyfriend. how amazing is that?

“baby?” mingyu repeats, snapping you out of your trance. there’s the hint of a smile on his face as your eyes meet his. “did you hear me?”

“no, what did you say?” now it’s your turn to blush. mingyu takes a step closer, carefully placing his hands on your hips.

“i said it’s ready,” he smiles. “you were staring at me.”

“yeah, i told you i was gonna do that.”

“what were you thinking about?” mingyu barely whispers, his face incredibly close to yours now.

i was thinking about how much i love you.

“um, you?”

“what about me?”

“i was mentally critiquing your form,” you tease, a smile breaking out across both your faces.

“and how was it?” he asks, close enough now that you can feel his breath on your lips.

“you’re gonna chop a finger off one day,” you reply quietly, eyes drifting down to mingyu’s lips as you speak. he notices and the side of his mouth quirks up in a smirk.

“how’s my form now?” he asks before hastily pressing a kiss to your lips, pulling back almost like the touch sent a shock through him.

“could be better,” you squeak out, and he nods before leaning back down to capture your lips in a real kiss. it’s warm, delicate but strong, and it’s mingyu. you can’t seem to wrap your head around that part. mingyu is kissing you right now. you’re kissing mingyu. and he’s really good at it. sooner than you’d like, he’s pulling away again.

“how was that?” he asks, lips just barely grazing over yours.

“better,” you reply breathlessly. “you take criticism well.”

“i’m just here to please you baby,” he says, his words dripping with double meanings. you feel a chill run down your spine as you notice the hungry look in his eyes, and you clear your throat before speaking.

“so, um, can i see the food now or do i have to eat with my eyes closed?”

“depends,” mingyu replies. “you want me to feed it to you?”

“stop being weird,” you laugh, pushing him away playfully but instantly missing the warmth of his chest against yours. you ignore his smile and lean over the stove, heart picking up as you try to see what he made. mingyu puts his arms around your waist fully and moves you out of the way, back to his childish shoves and whines about ruining the surprise.

in a few minutes, you’re sat on his couch, eyes closed with a bowl of something warm in your lap. mingyu was serious about feeding you, at least the first bite, because he wants to keep the meal a surprise. as you complain about it for the millionth time, mingyu brings a spoon up to your lips and quietly asks you to open your mouth. you welcome the food, and your eyes shoot open when you immediately recognize the taste.

“chicken and dumplings?” you ask, and mingyu smiles proudly. “how’d you learn to make that? it tastes just like home. i can’t...i don’t believe you made this.”

“please,” mingyu scoffs. “i was over at your house enough that i saw your grandma, your mom, even you, make this a million times. i made it the exact same way.”

“i can’t believe this,” you shake your head. “i...this is perfect, gyu. thank you.”

“no problem baby,” he smiles as he cuddles into your side, handing you another full spoon. “your turn.”

“what?” you ask, confused, just to turn and see mingyu waiting with his mouth open. you laugh, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “you’re embarrassing.”

“yeah, but you love it,” he laughs along, taking the spoon back so he can start eating too. as he goes on about how perfectly he cooked this, he misses the way your face heats up as you think, yes, you do love it. you love him, and you’re trying to figure out how soon is too soon to tell him that.

part one of mingyu’s plan is a little concerning. he’s not following you, no, he’s not doing anything that would make you uncomfortable, but...he is hanging around your favorite coffeeshop in the mornings. he knows he’s bound to catch you here at least once this week, and he doesn’t mind doing a little work in such a cozy place anyway. if he sees you, great. if not, also great. he’s been more productive the past two days than he has all month.

he gets lucky on the third day, because he hears a familiar laugh at the door and his ears perk up like an excited puppy. he sees you holding the door open for someone, and he tries to not make it obvious that he’s staring. you’re wearing one of his hoodies. if he had any doubts about this, now they’re all erased, because you’re wearing one of his hoodies. he didn’t even remember giving it to you, so it must have been one you stole from him. it’s old too, he can tell there’s a hole near the wrist that you’re trying to not accidentally slip a finger through. he keeps flicking his eyes up to you as you ask for your usual, mouthing the words along with you just to make sure he’s still got it. café con leche, sprinkle of cinnamon. when you turn around after paying, mingyu ducks his head down and goes back to work. he won’t approach you just yet, so he tries to lay low.

but you saw him the moment you walked in. a big dude like that? he sticks out immediately. your blood ran cold when you caught him staring at you, mentally cursing yourself for not changing shirts before you left the house. it might be a little pathetic, but you slept in this hoodie last night. the heat in your place hasn’t been working well and it was unusually cold, so you needed the extra coverage. this hoodie was the first thing you pulled from your closet, and you were too lazy to find something else. you won’t admit being wrapped up in mingyu’s scent helped you have the best sleep you’ve gotten since the break up. you try to ignore the feeling of mingyu’s eyes on you as you order, and when you turn back to the seating area you laugh to yourself seeing mingyu look away like he wasn’t boring holes into your back. you scan the room for an empty spot and find one, but your own eyes pull back to mingyu. you wait at the counter for your drink, and take a deep breath before walking over.

“should i go ahead and sit with you, or did you wanna stare a little bit longer?” you ask once you reach mingyu’s table, his head snapping up in shock at you approaching him without noticing.

“uh, i, um, i wasn’t, this isn’t what it looks like,” he blubbers, and you roll your eyes.

“you know if you wanted to talk to me you can just call,” you mumble as you pull the seat out and sit down.

“hey, i’m actually working,” he says, sliding his laptop around to prove it. “maybe i’m just here to enjoy the ambiance.”

“fine,” you nod, sipping your drink and loving the way it instantly puts you at ease. “don’t let me interrupt.” you start pulling out your own things, setting up your laptop before deciding you might want to read instead. you compromise and send some emails first, the rapid sound of your typing somehow comforting to mingyu. he resettles himself, accidentally bumping your leg with his under the table.

“sorry,” he whispers.

“it’s okay,” you reply, a sympathetic grin on your face. “with your long ass legs i’m used to it.”

“still,” he tries not to smile back like an idiot. “sorry.”

you fall back into silence, both of you working on your own things and “enjoying the ambiance.” you’re not sure how much time passes before mingyu interrupts the quiet.

“hey,” he whispers, grabbing your attention. he nods to your laptop and asks, “what are you doing?”

“i’m working, mingyu,” you laugh. “what are you doing?”

“working,” he replies quickly. “been a busy week for me.”

“hm, same here.”

“cold too,” he tries, smiling proudly when you shift in your seat. he caught you. “did you magically lose all your other hoodies and jackets, or does someone miss stealing my clothes?”

“i didn’t steal this,” you counter, accusing finger pointed in his direction. “you insisted i take this one because you didn’t want it anymore but you said it was too sentimental to donate. i did you a favor by taking this ratty old thing.”

“but you kept it,” he says happily, finishing his coffee and pointing to your long empty mug. “you want another?”

“sure,” you reply sheepishly, “a café co-”

“café con leche, sprinkle of cinnamon,” mingyu finishes in unison with you. then a sly smile as he says, “i remember, baby. be right back.”

“what the hell did you say to mingyu?” you bark at seungcheol over the phone. “why was he at my coffeeshop this morning? and why’s he suddenly calling me baby all casual like we’re still dating?”

“this is news to me,” cheol says, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. “i didn’t say anything to him. at least not anything i think he heard. that boyfriend of yours can be an airhead sometimes.”

“he’s not my boyfriend,” you grumble.

“but he bought you coffee this morning?”

“he told you?!”

“i’m not at liberty to say,” cheol laughs. “just enjoy it, y/n. whatever he’s up to, it can’t hurt to see where it goes.”

“i hate you both,” you groan, hanging up as cheol mumbles a “right, sure.” when the call is over, you fall back down onto your bed, mind working top speed to decide what to do next. you could move and change your name, leaving mingyu and cheol behind. that’s a bit dramatic. you could tell cheol to get fucked, but he’d find a way to bring mingyu into it. and mingyu. you don’t know what to do about him. you could just ask him to leave you alone, and you think he would. but a little part of you does want to see where this goes.

you wake up the next morning to the smell of something coming from your kitchen. you rush up, afraid you somehow left dinner on the stove and you’re seconds away from burning the building down. but when you crash into the kitchen, ungracefully, you’re met with mingyu’s muscular back as he looks for something in your fridge. at the sound of your frantic movements, he looks over his shoulder and grumbles out a good morning in the deepest voice you’ve ever heard. you’re stunned, not totally sure how he got here, and totally confused as to why he’s shirtless.

“um, whatcha doin?” you ask casually.

“i was gonna make french toast,” mingyu starts out, coming closer to you. “but you’re out of milk. so now it’s just eggs and toast.” as he gets closer, his hands reach out for your waist, and you let him pull you against his warm chest. “is that ok?”

“mhm,” you nod, not sure what to do with your hands. you don’t want to put them on his chest, afraid the skin to skin contact would ignite something dangerous in you. you also don’t want to put them around his neck because that territory feels just as dangerous. so that leaves you with your hands bunched up by your chest and mingyu looking on, amused.

“afraid to touch me?” he asks, a smirk on his stupidly kissable lips.

“no, um, i just-” you stutter, but what sounds like a phone alarm cuts you off. was mingyu baking something?

“you gonna get that, baby?” he asks, seemingly referring to the alarm but you don’t know where it’s coming from.

“what? it’s not mine,” you say, and you miss what mingyu says next as you’re jolted awake by something furry laying on your chest. you carefully open your eyes, afraid that maybe mingyu just forgot to shave and somehow he would be the one on top of you right now. but it’s just fred, and the alarm is yours. your phone is going off, reminding you that you’re probably gonna be late to work. you scramble to get up and start your day, but you can’t stop thinking about mingyu.

about halfway through the day, you get a text from cheol asking if you want to get dinner that night. his friend jeonghan, who’s always kinda scared you, has tickets to some concert out of town and cheol wants to make it into a big trip. cheol wants you to come, and he knows you two will be the only ones competent enough to plan the whole thing so he needs you as back up tonight. you agree, eager to get a break from work and from mingyu. going out of town will be a nice distraction, and even though jeonghan is intimidating he’s still really fun to be around.

speak of the devil, he’s the first to wrap you up in a hug when you get to the guys’ table that night, and he whispers something to you about mingyu being annoying and you’re better off without him. you smile at the condolence and let him drag you into the open seat next to him. he and cheol start filling you in on the plans, when you’ll leave, where you’ll stay, day of the concert, etc. you give some advice on things to do in your free time, and jeonghan types it all into his phone while cheol price checks your options.

“so there’s one airbnb with enough beds for each of us, but it’s $100 more a night, compared to this one with a queen, a twin, and a sofa bed, which is the cheapest option and also closer to everything we want to do,” cheol says, nose still in his phone.

“book the cheap one then,” you shrug. “one of y’all can take the queen bed as long as i don’t get put on the pull out.”

“i can take the pull out,” jeonghan offers. “i’ll sleep wherever.”

“and i’ll take the twin,” cheol says. “gives me my own room.”

“so we won’t be able to hear you snoring?” you ask. “thank god.”

“ignoring that,” cheol mumbles, writing something down on his napkin. “so that would make it $80 even for each of us for the whole weekend. i can book it and you can send me your money whenever.”

“sounds good,” jeonghan nods as he pours you all more soju.

“wait, that makes no sense,” you start. “it’s only $80? for the whole weekend?”

“yep,” cheol nods, waving the napkin in your face. “wanna check my work, teacher?”

“no, jack ass,” you laugh, pushing his hand out of the way before graciously taking the glass jeonghan hands you. “just shocked you found such a steal.”

“speaking of stealing things,” jeonghan says, “whose car are we taking?”

“mine is in the shop,” cheol sighs. “and y/n doesn’t drive.”

“guess we’ll take mingyu’s then,” jeonghan decides. cheol’s eyes flick over to you on instinct, and when he doesn’t see a reaction from you he smiles.

“cool, i can pick everyone up on friday then?” he asks, and you nod. with everything planned, your conversation can stray off to other topics while the drinks flow, and that’s how you end up flipping through jeonghan’s tinder for him later in the night. you’re maybe too tipsy to be doing this, but jeonghan likes the chaos of it, and cheol is just happy to see you having fun. he hopes this trip will help with that too.

cheol comes to pick you up, as promised, but he texts you when he pulls up that you’ll have to sit in the back. you get out of your building and recognize mingyu’s car immediately, tossing your bag in the trunk before grabbing the door to the backseat. when you slide in, you almost jump out of your skin when you see mingyu sitting back there too.

“told you it’d surprise her,” you hear cheol and jeonghan laugh, but you’re too busy trying to sputter out a question.

“hey y/n,” mingyu says shyly.

“hi?” you reply, looking to cheol who’s staring at you through the rearview mirror. “um? hello?”

“hey,” he smiles. “you buckled?”

“no she’s not,” mingyu replies for you, and you roll your eyes before you put the seatbelt in place.

“sorry, but what’s he doing here?” you ask. “you stole the car and the owner?”

“no, he’s coming with us,” jeonghan replies. “i thought i told you i had four tickets to the show?”

“no?” you say, voice at a higher pitch than you’d like it to be.

“is there a problem, y/n?” cheol asks, looking at you through the rearview again so if you really weren’t comfortable with this he would see.

“no,” you sigh after a second. “just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“for the record,” mingyu whispers, leaning close to you, “this was not part of my plan. i swear.”

“but it was part of mine!” cheol jokes, and mingyu kicks his chair. “hey, don’t make me pull this car over.”

“you mean my car?!” mingyu screeches back, and you lean up to whisper in jeonghan’s ear.

“why did you think bringing these two on a trip would be fun?” you ask loud enough for cheol and gyu to hear, making the car erupt in whines and cries while jeonghan laughs. it’s gonna be a long ride, you think to yourself.

you’re able to sleep most of the way there, only getting interrupted every once in a while when mingyu moves his long limbs to get comfortable. each time it’s an awkward half smile in apology, and you just nod in recognition. you don’t really want him here, to be honest. this trip was supposed to take your mind off him. now how will that be possible?

mingyu feels bad for surprising you like this, really. cheol asked him to come on this trip and didn’t say you’d be joining them until it was too late for mingyu to back out, so he wants a minute alone with you to explain. he wants to tell you that he can hang back, if you want to enjoy some time with the guys sans your ex boyfriend. he’ll do whatever makes you happy, like usual.

mingyu’s desire to talk to you is what leads him to follow you to your room at the airbnb, saying he’s looking for the bathroom but really he wants to apologize for the ambush. you turn back to the door once you’ve placed your things on the bed, jumping when you see his large form cowering in the doorway.

“bathroom’s not in here, gyu,” you tell him. “think it’s the next door on the left.”

“i’m not looking for the bathroom,” he says, taking a careful step into your room. “i wanted to say i’m sorry, for this. i didn’t know you were coming either, or else i would’ve backed out. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“i’m not uncomfortable around you, mingyu,” you say firmly. “i just-”

“you forgot your stuff dude,” cheol says, popping up behind mingyu and handing him his bag. then he looks at you quickly, smiling before he teases, “i see you’ve found the honeymoon suite?”

“the-what?” you ask, confused.

“you ended up with the biggest bed, y/n, so you gotta share with the friendly giant over here,” cheol explains as he nods in mingyu’s direction. “he’s definitely not fitting on the twin with me.”

“and i don’t like him enough to share a bed with him!” jeonghan shouts from somewhere else in the house.

“you’re fucking kidding me.”

“no time to complain right now,” cheol says as he checks his watch. “we’ve got dinner reservations. mingyu, bathroom is next door, you might wanna change your shirt before we leave. i don’t wanna stare at y/n’s drool while i eat.”

“my what?” you ask, looking at mingyu to see what cheol is referring to. there’s a spot near mingyu’s collarbone that looks slightly wet, and your hand flies to your mouth as you gasp, “i drooled on you?! how? why didn’t you push me off?!”

“you were asleep!” mingyu replies, voice an octave or two higher. “i felt bad! you just kinda fell onto my shoulder, and i didn’t wanna wake you up!”

“we’re leaving in five minutes, whether you’re ready or not,” cheol tells mingyu. he walks away, and mingyu grabs a new shirt out of his bag before heading back to the door.

“uh, gyu?” you call, and he turns immediately. “s-sorry..for, that, i guess,” you say, pointing to his shirt. “next time you have full permission to push me. promise i won’t get mad.”

“it’s okay,” he shrugs. “you know i don’t mind.” and with that, he leaves for the bathroom. you can tell there’s a blush on your cheeks, so you close the door and lock it while you take a minute to chill out. you decide to change too, not wanting to wear your old sweats to dinner even if it’s supposed to be laid back. you’re afraid now that you’ve got drool on your own shirt, so you change into something casual quickly and then join the guys in the living room.

once you’re there, cheol checks that everyone’s good to go, and you all walk out to the car. you don’t catch the way mingyu stares at you the whole time, or maybe you’re just ignoring it. you’re wearing a matching set with a jean jacket, nothing extravagant, but mingyu has the exact same outfit packed in his bag. you bought the sets together, for a last minute trip you took a year ago. mingyu wanted to get matching vacation shirts and you vehemently refused, so you compromised with a his and hers loungewear set. once again, mingyu’s heart soars at the little nod to your time together, because clearly you’re not as detached from it as you claim to be.

at dinner, jeonghan insists on sitting next to you again, so you’re squished into the booth next to him while mingyu looks on in not-so-hidden jealousy. he’s sitting across from you, scanning the menu and trying not to flick his eyes up to you. jeonghan starts talking about what he wants to try, and cheol asks if they should just order a bunch of plates and share everything.

“eh, you guys can do that, but there’s really just one thing i wanted to try,” you say, pushing the menu away now that you’ve found what you want.

“lemme guess,” cheol says as his eyes scan the menu. “you’re gonna get something lame, like chicken alfredo.”

“no,” you shake your head. “i’m trying something new, but it’s not as tomato heavy as the stuff you want, which all sounds nasty, by the way.”

“why’d you agree to come to an italian restaurant if you think the food is nasty?” cheol counters.

“you all seemed excited about trying it,” you shrug. “and like i said, there’s one thing i want. that’s enough.”

“what’s that one thing?” jeonghan cuts in, trying to stop cheol from bickering further.

“let me guess this time,” mingyu smiles. your eyes meet his and you blush under his gaze, thankful for the low lighting at the table. hopefully the guys don’t catch it. you nod and encourage mingyu to take a stab at it, and he pretends to look at the menu again even though this was the first thing he noticed. “you’re getting the gnocchi in the truffle sauce, but you really agreed to italian because you want to get tiramisu for dessert.”

“i, yeah, you got me,” you stammer out.

“what drink is she gonna get?” cheol asks with a smile, head leaning on his hand as he watches in amusement.

“hm,” mingyu looks at the menu seriously. “maybe an espresso with the tiramisu, but i bet you’ll try to make us order the digestif spritz thing at the end of the meal.”

“shut up,” you say, kicking his foot lightly under the table. “i was gonna try it myself, i won’t force y’all to try it if you don’t want to.” jeonghan, not picking up on the eyes you and mingyu are making at each other, joins in.

“i thought about trying that too,” he nods, looking at cheol and asking what he wants to order to share. while they discuss an inordinate amount of food, you’re just staring at mingyu, who’s looking at you smugly. finally you just shake your head and look back down at the menu, judging whatever the other boys decided to order. when the waiter comes back, mingyu smiles proudly as you order exactly what he predicted. mingyu nudges your leg playfully under the table, and you’re about to fight back when jeonghan cuts through your thoughts. “wait, did i tell you guys about the dream i had in the car?”

“i didn’t know you fell asleep,” cheol shakes his head.

“i did, when you were complaining about that girl who wouldn’t call you back.”

“hey!”

“anyway,” jeonghan starts again. “i had a dream that i was at work and y/n came in,” he smiles at you. “i guess you complaining about your job made me subconsciously think we should hire you at my office?”

“anything is better than my job right now,” you laugh, imagining how nothing would get done if you and jeonghan worked together.

“but you came in, and i was going to start training you, and then mingyu comes out of the boss’s office and is like no she’s here to take your job-”

“wait, mingyu was there?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“yeah, i was there?” mingyu teases. “you in love with me or something?”

“y/n why is that so shocking,” cheol asks more as a statement than a question. “i told you about my mingyu dream, we’ve all got one.”

“please don’t bring that up again,” mingyu groans, head dropping. you smile at the memory of cheol’s legendary mingyu dream, which was basically just dream mingyu being so drunk he somehow climbed a telephone pole and got stuck so he called cheol to come help because he’s “strong and manly.”

“y/n do you have a mingyu dream?” jeonghan asks, and you blush deep enough that they can clearly see it this time, despite the lighting.

“um, i don’t really remember any from when, uh, from recently,” you start. “i guess i had one the other night, but it was one of those dreams that i barely remembered when i woke up. i just know mingyu was there.”

“where was i?” he asks, totally invested now.

“yeah, where was he?” cheol parrots.

“um, my kitchen?”

“can he even fit in there?” jeonghan jokes, but you ignore him.

“so i was cooking for you?” mingyu pesters you, and you nod.

“well, kinda,” you reply. “i don’t really remember.”

“was it a dirty dream?” cheol jokes. “is that why you don’t remember?”

“no, asshole,” you reply. thankfully, the first round of plates arrives to the table then and everyone is distracted for a while. you have to shake the feeling of mingyu staring at you though. it’s like he knows there’s more to the dream than you let on, but you’re not gonna unpack it with the other two sitting right here.

“y/n,” mingyu calls your name quietly. you look up and find him holding a small plate out very politely, and then he gives you his sweetest smile before asking, “can i try a gnocchi?”

“sure,” you nod, scraping one off your plate onto his. “it’s really good.”

“give me one,” cheol says, and before he can even finish you shake your head.

“nope,” you say as you pop another piece into your mouth. “you didn’t ask nicely.”

“whatever,” he grumbles.

the rest of dinner is nice, the food is great, you got your tiramisu and your weird drink at the end of the night, and cheol and jeonghan got sloshed on an expensive bottle of wine. you’re laughing with mingyu as you guide the two drunkards back to the car, struggling to get cheol to put his seatbelt on. once the toddlers are settled you turn to ask mingyu if he’s gonna drive, just to see him waiting for you by the passenger side.

“what are you doing?” you ask quietly.

“being a gentleman,” he replies simply, opening the door for you and handing you the jacket you almost left in your seat. you thank him quietly, heart picking up speed. he closes the door for you before he gets to the driver’s side, and then you’re on your way back to the airbnb. mingyu wordlessly hands you the aux, and you take it as you shuffle your library, not concerned with whatever song comes on. the first one to play is mary’s song by taylor swift, a song that has always reminded you of the way mingyu loved you. for a second, you let yourself reminisce and feel the warmth that mingyu’s love always gave you. absentmindedly, your hand reaches for his on the center console, and when you realize what you’ve done you just pull back like it was an accident. mingyu knows it wasn’t, though. he drives on in content, happy just to be sharing this moment with you, regardless of the circumstances.

back at the house, the guys let you take the bathroom first so you can shower. you promise to be quick, but while you’re in there you relish having a moment to yourself. it’s always nice, even when you’re with people you love, to have a second to yourself on a trip like this. it turns out doing you dirty this time, because the longer you’re left to your own thoughts the more they wander back to mingyu. back to how much you love him, how much he loves you, and how much that scares you. it wasn’t like you left because you didn’t care about him anymore. you were afraid you cared too much, and that it would end up hurting you one day. as all these thoughts pass through your head, you notice you’ve started crying. the shower quickly wipes your tears away, so you finish up and try to collect yourself as you get dressed. you take a couple extra minutes to pamper yourself, using the products the airbnb host left out for guests to try and steady your breathing. you take note of the fancy lotion, contemplating whether or not to steal this one, when jeonghan yelling in the hallway brings you back to reality.

clean and ready for bed, you emerge from the shower with your things in your arms. you almost drop them when you bump into mingyu leaving your room, arms laden with blankets and pillows. you look at him confused before asking what’s going on.

“where are you going?” you ask as you move further into the bedroom, noticing that mingyu has moved all of his things.

“i’m setting up my bed,” he replies.

“i thought you were sleeping with me?” you say, noticing too late how that sounds. “i mean, wait, sorry-”

“yeah, i was supposed to sleep in here, but jeonghan said i can make a bed on the floor and sleep in the living room with him,” mingyu explains with a small smile.

“why?”

“i don’t wanna bother you, y/n,” he says. “i don’t mind.”

he stands there, staring at you, almost like he’s waiting for you to say something. you want to tell him he doesn’t have to sleep on the floor, you want to tell him it’s not a bother, but above all you want to tell him not to leave. with an aching heart you realize, you really want him to stay. but he takes your quiet demeanor as a sign to go, so he turns around and steps back into the hallway.

“mingyu,” you call out quickly, pulling his attention back to you.

“yeah y/n?” he asks, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“mingyu,” you repeat, this time with a touch of sadness in your voice. “just come to bed with me.”

his heart jumps into his throat for a few reasons, first, because you asked him to come to bed with you. to share space with you after so long. he could jump and clap with joy right now, but the sad way you said his name is the other reason his heart is in his throat. that’s when he notices your puffy eyes, and he asks quietly, “have you been crying?”

you don’t need to respond. mingyu already knows. he drops everything in his arms, kicking them out of the way so he can wrap you in his arms instead. you sigh into his chest, willing the tears burning at your eyes to go away, but you let a few slip through as you whisper “i’m sorry” over and over again right above where mingyu’s heart is.

“baby,” he says, pulling your gaze up to his face, then, when your eyes meet his warm ones, “my love. what are you sorry for?”

“for running away,” you whisper. “i got sc-scared, and i’m s-sorry,” you explain as the tears start to fall again. mingyu wraps you back up in his embrace, awkwardly waddling you both toward the bed. his sounds of struggle make you giggle, a happy reprieve from the heart breaking cries mingyu so deeply wishes he could stop for you, but he knows you need to get this out.

“what were you scared of?” he asks as he helps you sit on the edge of the bed, your hands wrapped tightly in his.

“you,” you laugh lightly, making mingyu whine. you smile and put your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his soft skin as you continue. “it was like one day i woke up and realized how much you loved me. and that was scary. you’ve always been my mingyu, you always will be, but life has just changed so much from when we were kids. things aren’t as easy anymore, and i guess i preemptively got scared that we wouldn’t be easy anymore. the idea of losing you,” you take a deep breath, “of you not loving me anymore one day. that scared the shit out of me.”

“things haven’t changed that much then,” mingyu says with that teasing lilt in his voice you know so well. he looks at you mischievously as he goes on, “you’re still that little kid who runs away when our games stopped going your way.”

“don’t be a dick,” you laugh, head falling onto mingyu’s shoulder. “i know it was silly. but it’s like, once i made that decision, once i decided i had to leave, i couldn’t just come running back the next day when i missed you. i had to sit with it. i made the decision, i needed to face the consequences.”

“you missed me the next day?” mingyu asks, and you scoff.

“you haven’t changed either,” you tell him. “you’re still the world’s best selective listener.”

“i heard what you said,” he nods. “and i won’t say i understand it, but i still love you, y/n. i can promise you that will never change.”

“but-”

“no buts,” he cuts in, pushing your head off his shoulder so he can cup your cheeks and make sure you’re looking at him as he says, “i’m yours. till the end of forever.”

when you were maybe fifteen - that awkward age where you wanted a boyfriend but didn’t want to admit it - mingyu was over at your house. you were so into him, but didn’t realize it yet. mingyu was warming up to the idea of you being his girlfriend, but he was afraid of asking and you turning him down. so you just remained closer than friends, and kept doing what you always did together.

that day, you were trying to do homework, but mingyu kept going through this pile of things under your desk. your mom made you clean up the storage closet, and you had found y/n relics that you wanted to keep. one of which mingyu was digging for.

“i’m telling you, it’s not in there,” you say for the millionth time, laughing when he bumps his head somewhere underneath your desk.

“ouch,” he whines, and you kick his butt to add to the pain. “ouch!”

“get up!” you whine back, pulling at his ankle. “even if you find my diary i’m not gonna let you read it.”

“yeah, but,” he says as he crawls out, “i am bigger and stronger than you, y/n.”

“so?”

“so i could throw you if i wanted.”

“then i’d tell your mom you’re being mean to me.”

“she knows you probably deserve it at this point in our relationship,” he mumbles. your ears warm at hearing him call this a relationship, but the way he’s not moving his right hand from under your desk is more important to you right now.

“whatcha got there?” you ask calmly.

“nothing,” he smiles the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“show me both your hands.”

“no.”

“mingyu!”

“y/n!”

“why do you even wanna see it,” you whine as you join him on the ground, trying to swipe for your diary in his hand. “it’s embarrassing.”

“i’m looking for something,” he says as he starts flipping through the pages of your pink velvet powerpuff girls diary. you laugh together over the many different ways you spelled diary as a child, until he stops on a page that makes you sick to your stomach.

it’s a picture. of you. and mingyu. on your wedding day. you’re in a big poofy dress and you’ve drawn mingyu with...a ponytail? and a bowtie bigger than his head. it’s clearly the two of you, because baby y/n took the courtesy of labeling you both for future historians (mingyu) to use against you. then down at the bottom, in horrible handwriting, are the words “me and gyu till the end of forever.”

after you’ve both taken a moment to stare at the page, you in disbelief and mingyu in complete adoration, he tears it right out.

“wha-”

“bye y/n,” he says, standing up and heading to your door.

“where are you going? give me that page back!” you shriek. you want to get up and take it from him, but he was right: he’s bigger and stronger than you, so that wouldn’t end well. you kick at his ankles instead, but he just folds the paper up and puts it in his pocket before making a face and leaving.

you didn’t think about that day, or that drawing, until just now. until mingyu said those words to you again. you watch in shock and admiration as he finds his wallet amongst his things and pulls out a small, folded piece of paper. he hands it to you, but you already know what it is. you rub it between your fingers, letting every moment that you’ve known mingyu, that you’ve been loved by mingyu, wash over you. you want to cry again. his love is so strong that it makes you feel the most intense emotions, but right now you just feel...content. you hand the paper back to him, and wave away the questioning look in his eyes.

“like i said, i’m sorry gyu,” you start out. “i’m sorry i ever doubted how much you loved me. i’m sorry i ever doubted how much i love you, too. it’s just scary. we’ve got so many big life things ahead of us, and i know i can’t do it without you by my side, but i don’t want our love to change. i always want you to be my playful, clumsy, perfect mingyu. and i just let my thoughts..and my pride..get in the way of that. so i’m sorry, lovebug.”

“lovebug?” he smiles, his whole face blushing at your favorite nickname for him resurfacing. he stares at you deeply, his hands itching in his lap to hold you again, and you think for a moment he’s going to kiss you. instead he lets out a breath and says, “i’m sorry too.”

“what do you have to be sorry for?” you laugh nervously.

“for ever letting you think for a second that i don’t love you as much as i do,” he replies. “i’ll work harder from now on.”

“no,” you say quietly, and you watch the confusion wash over mingyu’s features. “let me. i think it’s my turn to show you how much i love you. you’ve been doing it for years.”

“well if you insist,” he smiles shyly, eyes flicking down to your lips. you don’t have to nod for him to know it’s ok, and then he’s kissing you again. when you pull back, mingyu’s eyes are still closed, savoring the feeling of having your love all to himself again.

“cmon lovebug,” you whisper over his lips, “let’s go to bed.”

the next morning, you wake up sweating. your body amazingly forgot what it was like sleeping next to your mingyu shaped space heater, and it’s made worse by the fact that his arms have been tightly wrapped around you all night. you laugh when you wiggle and he pulls you closer, surprised that you can still breathe despite his tight grip. you get a hand free from his hold and try your old trick to get mingyu to unwrap you, lightly flicking his nose until he brings an arm up to swat you away.

you use this as a chance to slide out of bed, determined to make it to the kitchen to make good on your promise to mingyu last night. you want to show him how much you love him, and the first step to reminding him of that is to make his favorite breakfast. you think there’s enough ingredients in the kitchen, cheol packed groceries so you wouldn’t have to rely on take out all weekend. so you find one of mingyu’s sweaters and pull it over your pajamas before heading to the kitchen. you put your mingyu playlist on so you have some quiet background noise, careful not to wake jeonghan up in the next room. as you’re searching the spice cabinet, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist.

“why are you awake right now,” mingyu’s groggy voice whines into your neck. “come back to bed.”

“no,” you say simply. “i’m hungry. you can go back to bed and i’ll be there in a minute.”

“no,” mingyu replies. “miss you too much.”

“baby.”

“yes?”

“no, i’m calling you a baby,” you laugh, turning in mingyu’s arms once you find what you needed. “can you at least let go so i can cook?”

“what are you making?” he asks, loosening his grip but not letting go completely. you shuffle back to the kitchen island, mingyu coming with you, his hands still lightly on your waist.

“french toast,” you say shyly, feeling the warmth of mingyu’s smile without having to look at him.

“i love you, you know that?” he whispers into your ear, kissing your cheek quickly before he lets you go. you hear him shuffle to the sink, water running as he asks, “how can i help?”

“can you slice the bread for me?” you ask. “and warm the pan up.”

“yes chef!”

your giggles at mingyu’s behavior are what finally pull jeonghan out of his deep sleep, and he smirks when he sees you two moving happily around the kitchen together. he doesn’t want to ruin the moment so he just snaps a picture and texts it to cheol, hearing the man react with a cheer once the text goes through. jeonghan laughs and rolls back over, falling asleep to the sound of mingyu humming a song to you as the sweet smell of breakfast fills the house.

when it’s time for you all to head back home, mingyu offers to drive and the other two insist on you taking the front seat. mingyu starts planning who to drop off first, beginning with jeonghan, then cheol, then you.

“you’re dropping y/n off last, hm?” cheol says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “starting the honeymoon already?”

“shut up,” you groan.

“yeah, shut up,” mingyu mimics you. “it just makes sense though, y/n’s place is closest to mine and i need to drive my own car home. so it works out.”

“sure,” cheol nods. “no ulterior motives.”

“really!” mingyu shrieks, his ears turning red so you know this is getting to him. “i mean, i want to see fred too, but-”

“babe, stop talking,” you say quietly, placing your hand on his in the center console. “you’re just egging him on.”

“please listen to her,” jeonghan grumbles, obviously trying to sleep.

“she called him babe though,” cheol whispers to jeonghan, and they start giggling like little girls.

“ok, now everybody stop talking!” you say, looking at the boys in the rearview mirror. “quiet game, starting now. first one to speak has to buy lunch.”

“and gas!” mingyu adds.

“hey, doesn’t that mean mingyu just lost?” cheol asks, and you shake your head. “but he spoke first!” you just stare harder. “you’re playing favorites.”

“no i’m not,” you reply. “game starts now.”

after mingyu drops jeonghan and cheol off (who bought mcdonald’s and filled mingyu’s gas tank), he finally takes you home. when he pulls up outside your building, he stalls awkwardly at the wheel, unsure of what to do with his hands. you watch in admiration, a smirk playing at your lips. when mingyu looks over to you at last, he smiles shyly.

“hey.”

“hey,” you laugh. “you gonna come in?”

“really?” he asks, whole face perking up.

“either come in with me or kiss me goodbye, it’s up to you-”

“what if i come in with you and we make out in your apartment?” he asks with a smile of his own.

“deal,” you smile, “let me just get my bags.”

“nope. i got em,” mingyu says as he rushes out of the car, running around the front so he can get to your door in time to open it for you. you start to protest, and mingyu’s response is, “complain and i won’t come in!”

“you’re a liar,” you laugh.

“maybe, but i’m still not letting you carry anything,” he says while you get your keys out. when you’re done you turn and see him staring at the bags in the back really hard.

“what are you doing? trying to solve a math problem?” you tease, and mingyu looks at you with a blush on his cheeks.

“um, no, sorry,” he shakes his head, pulling your things out of the back before reaching to close the trunk.

“you’re not bringing your stuff?” you ask nervously.

“you want me to?” he asks hopefully, and you nod. he smiles and grabs his bag too, hoisting everything onto one arm before joining you by the door. his sweaty hand reaches for yours, squeezing it tightly as you open the door.

you make the familiar walk back to your apartment, mingyu’s heart beating out of his chest the closer you get. he’s waited for this moment for weeks, coming back home with you. but that’s just it, he’s been racking his brain over what could’ve scared you into running away, and he finally figured it out on the ride here. right before you broke up with him, he started talking about moving in together. he hadn’t asked you yet, but he was planting the seeds for it, and that must have scared you off. now he’s worried that once he walks through the door, he’s won’t want to leave ever again. he just hopes this time you’re ready for him to stay.

when you get to your apartment, you try to shake mingyu’s hand out of yours so you can open the door, but he just whines and tells you to deal. laughing as you stumble into your place, mingyu looks around excitedly only for his face to fall.

“fred’s not here,” he says with a growing pout.

“nope,” you shake your head. “he’s at my mom’s because i was gone for the weekend. sorry i didn’t tell you.”

“you tricked me,” mingyu says accusingly as he places the bags on his arm on your kitchen table.

“yeah, well,” you shrug. “you would’ve come up anyway.”

“how is your mom, by the way?” he asks as he walks toward you “missing his favorite person?”

“hm, no?” you reply. “she actually said you were stinky and she never liked you.”

“she did not,” he says with a smile, snaking his arms around your waist. “tell her i say hi.”

“and mrs. kim?” you ask as you drape your arms across his broad shoulders.

“she’s good,” he nods. “thrilled that you didn’t give up on me. i got chewed out after the break, by the way, so thanks for that.”

“you’re welcome,” you tease, kissing his chin. mingyu smiles without letting it reach his eyes, and he takes a deep breath.

“speaking of,” he starts cautiously. “the..break up.”

“the bad time, yes,” you nod. “have i said i’m sorry about that today?”

“can we..talk about it a little more?” mingyu asks, and your heart clenches. “if you don’t want to, that’s fine, i just...have questions before we go back to being us.”

“go ahead,” you encourage him. “do you wanna sit down?”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i’m good right here,” he says, squeezing your hips. “i just need to know what made you freak. was i coming on too strong with the moving in thing?”

“the what?” you ask, obviously confused.

“baby, i’ve been dropping hints since new year’s about moving in together,” he laughs. “you didn’t notice?”

“no?” you cry out. “why didn’t you just ask me?”

“i was scared!” he cries back. “why did you break up with me?”

“i was scared,” you joke in return. “i had no clue you wanted to move in with me.”

“well, i did,” he sighs. “i already have an extra key for you.”

“really?” you smile. he nods, and you lean your head on his shoulder as you reply. “you know my lease is up next month.”

“is it?” he replies, leaning his cheek on your forehead. “how convenient. i’ll make room in the closet then.”

“cool,” you smile, comfortably floating at the idea of living with mingyu. when mingyu clears his throat above you, you know what he wants. you pull him over to the couch as you say, “i know. i’ll explain.”

“kiss me first?” he asks, and you think about it.

“just one,” you say with a stern finger in his face, mingyu bites it, and then with your finger between his teeth he says, “no promises.” you pull away from him just for mingyu to reach back and cup your face, pulling you softly toward his lips. as soon as your lips meet you melt into him, his arms grabbing you so you’re sitting on his lap. “hey,” you say into his mouth, mingyu trying to kiss you deeper. “hey!” you giggle, pulling back. “i said one.”

“and i said no promises,” mingyu replies. “now cmere.”

“no,” you laugh, holding him at bay. “we need to talk.”

“i’m listening,” he says, playing with your hair.

“i was serious before when i said i was scared,” you start out. “but no, the move in thing wasn’t what scared me. i was, uh, i was out to lunch, with some of my friends, and one of them just got engaged-”

“who?”

“mingyu,” you whine. he mumbles out a sorry and let’s go of your hair, placing his hands on your hips. “she just got engaged, and we started talking about..wedding..stuff, and then the girls all turned to me.”

“oh?” mingyu asks with a smirk.

“yeah,” you nod. “and um, that freaked me out. they started asking why we hadn’t..weren’t..um, whatever. they started asking me questions, and i didn’t know what to tell them, and that just made me go down a very dark hole.”

“how dark?” mingyu asks with concern laced through his voice.

“dark like, what if you didn’t want to marry me? what if we got married and everything went bad? what if-”

“and you never thought to talk to me about it?” mingyu cuts you off.

“did i mention how sorry i am?” you try sheepishly. “that was the big life stuff i mentioned the other night. moving in, getting engaged. starting the rest of forever together. that’s scary stuff, and i forgot how easy you make things. i just got scared of the concept, i guess, and didn’t consider how you make everything feel okay.”

“i do?”

“yeah,” you nod. “you’ve made my life so wonderful, gyu. even though everything ahead of us scares the shit out of me, i can’t wait to do it all with you.”

“let’s wait on all the scary stuff,” he says, grabbing your hands to play with your fingers as he speaks. “we’ll take it step by step. starting with moving in together?”

“starting with that,” you agree. “i love you, kim mingyu.”

“i love you too baby.”

#kim mingyu #seventeen #kim mingyu fluff #kim mingyu angst #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #kim mingyu one shot #kim mingyu fic #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen one shot #mingyu one shot

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word-wytch · 10 months

Text

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 16

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 16/? 9k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Frustrated by inconclusive endings, Eddie takes a seat behind the wheel.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, true love, smut (18+ mdni), internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

✏︎ Chapter CW: general angst, paternal angst, drug mention

Thursday, December 12th 1985

Before the first morning bell, Eddie gave Judy at reception his best impression of Wayne over the phone. He wasn’t totally lying, he was in fact, quite sick. Sick of all the taunting looks from meathead jocks. Sick of the way Ms. O’Donnell cleared her throat every five minutes. Sick of waking up so goddamn early. Sick of wasting his time. So after hanging up the phone, he stuffed a few essentials in his backpack and made for the door.

Like clockwork, Wayne always came home at around 8:10 AM, and though it would be far from the first time he’d skipped school, Eddie would rather not have to explain himself. Besides, he could use a change of scenery. There was no denying winter anymore, the ice he scraped off his windshield made sure to remind him. On a typical hooky day he would drive down to Lover’s Lake and toss open the rear doors, catch a breeze, light a joint, sit back and take in the ripples on the water and the rustling leaves. But that had all frozen over, so unless he intended to burn through his whole tank of gas, he would need to get creative.

That was how he found himself at Benny’s at 7:58 on a Thursday morning, setting up camp in a booth at the back of the restaurant. He ordered his usual — bacon, scrambled eggs, and a stack of pancakes in addition to white toast. Tossing his fourth emptied sugar packet beside the leaning tower of creamers, he sat back in the sticky, padded seat and took his first deep breath all morning.

The diner was bustling lowly, a handful of regulars perched on silver, spinning stools at the bar. From the frosted window leeching cool air beside him, he watched the funeral procession of headlights down Washington under a mournful sky. Just another day for the upright citizens of Hawkins, Indiana. From his cozy booth, Eddie sipped the top off his very full mug and smiled to himself.

Sprawling his belongings around the piping hot plates, he popped on his headphones, cracked open his monster manual, and got to work. The first hour flew by like his pencil across the graph paper. Between the bacon bits that had leapt from hand to page, a formidable lineup of foes was taking shape. Bottom line; the boys were in for a world of hurt tomorrow. He did his best to resign the grease to the flimsy napkins, but by the time he was finished, syrup tacked the gargoyle and gorgon pages together.

“Anything else I can grab for ya besides the check?” Sheri—according to her name tag—asked with a tired lean as she reached to clear his plates.

Eddie glanced down sheepishly at his freshly topped off mug. “I uh, think I might be staying for lunch.”

Sheri forced a hot pink smile, catching the fork with her decorated finger when it threatened to slide off the plate. “Y’ want me to get a room set up for you too?” she joked with a wink of her spidery lashes. “Just teasin’ sweetie. You just flag me down when you’re ready.”

Switching out his tapes, Eddie shut the cassette player and stared out the window as the men at the bar tossed their napkins and fished out their wallets. Snow was falling in lazy clumps, clinging to his windshield. Somewhere behind the overcast clouds, the sun was rising steadily. It was dismal, a fitting backdrop for the opening track of Black Sabbath’s Heaven and Hell. Of all the seasons, winter belonged to metal. Like it was made for cruising down a quiet, snow-covered street in the middle of nowhere. Made for drowning out Bing Crosby crooning from the speaker in the corner above him. Tinsel glittered on the small tree perched on a cloud of fake snow beside the cash register. Ornaments on swags swayed to the thump of footsteps passing. Eddie sighed and stared into the changing street lights.

Glancing at his watch he figured you were probably wrapping up the film with second period, knitting your brow and drawing your pen across the papers you were grading. He wondered what you’d think when the bell rang for fourth and you found his seat empty. Would you think he was upset with you? There was a small part of him that hoped so, and another part that hoped you would understand. After all, he was giving you the space you asked for, was he not?

Like a siren, your story—tucked between his notebook and the magazines he’d exhausted twice cover to cover—called to him. Cracking open the plastic spine, he dove headfirst into the typewritten pages.

For the whole narrow path into Rower’s End, Cybelle had sat in the front of the caravan, breathing the briny air unhindered by a barrier. Lazarus admired the brilliant fullness of her smile as she watched the seagulls soar overhead, under the clouds she had only ever seen from above. The sunlight had graced them then, beaming down in golden rays, glinting on the distant waves as they approached the sleepy seaside town.

Eddie could feel the corners of his mouth tug as Lazarus regaled Cybelle with a story of a time when he’d accidentally taken a crab home with him after spending a day at the beach, followed by an explanation of what a crab was. Cybelle seemed delighted with the prospect of seeing one, even more-so when he told her how he’d discovered the little hitchhiker when it pinched his rear in bed that night. Eddie noticed the way Cybelle leaned closer whenever Lazarus told stories, the way her hand came to shield her bare face with a giggle when he mentioned his rear. The way her delicate, copper fingers lingered over the soft skin of his forearm when she checked beneath his bandage. The wound was healing nicely — no sign of infection and not a thorn in sight. She warned that it might scar, but Lazarus did not appear concerned—rather the opposite actually—as if a strange part of him was pleased with the idea of having something to remember her by.

As they dipped over the final hill toward Rower’s End, Lazarus told her another story. A dream, rather, of a little cottage in Shantiglade with a full sized bed, and a garden, and a goose egg omelette big enough for two. A dream that would likely never come to pass. Cybelle seemed equally enchanted by it. Sitting back against the boxy, wooden seat of the caravan, she breathed in the salty air and imagined how good it would feel to do so every day. To experience the feeling of sand between her toes, of the ocean at her ankles, of propping her elbow against their shared kitchen table and gracing Lazarus with a naked smile before trying whatever an omelette was. It was good like this too — bumping along under a clear blue sky as Turnip plodded down the scarcely trodded path, watching the wind caress the wild grass and Lazarus’ even wilder curls, hearing his tales and his laughter.

Around the time he would be slumping into his desk in the back of your classroom, the bell dinged over the door of the restaurant. Eddie cranked the volume on his headset to drown out the chatter of a family of four clambering into the booth in front of him. The little boy had brought a pair of plastic drumsticks with him, beating a rhythm on the steel-rimmed table much to the annoyance of his little sister, who was clutching her book the way Eddie was yours. Dipping his few remaining fries into the smear of ketchup, he wondered why they weren’t in school on a Thursday afternoon. As he focused back on the type-written letters, he figured he should be the last to judge.

Eddie felt for Lazarus, he really did. The way he looked at Cybelle as she emerged from the cave, cradling the ghostfern like a pale, translucent child. The scene was as beautiful as it was somber — waves lapping at the rocky shoreline as the setting sun cast its deep orange hues on both of them. The rocks—slick with algae—had Cybelle stumbling, but Lazarus was quick to offer his arm. She accepted without hesitance, clutching the plant like a bouquet as her deep earthen fingers braced the pale angles of his. He lead her down the cascading stone as if it were a chapel aisle, slow and steady until they reached the flat edge of the water. There—in the golden remains of the day—seagulls dipped and soared over the glittering ocean, clasped hands swayed in the lapping wind, and for a moment, they had everything they came for.

After what seemed like both a small eternity and an aching second, it was Cybelle who broke away, tracing the ridges of his fingers as hers fell, stating out loud what both of them knew — that night was coming soon.

The journey back to Torgaard proved easier than the journey out, at least in terms of natural foes. No fenfinks or villainous vines, but the sky seemed to hang much lower. Dark, stormy clouds loomed overhead, casting its pale grey light over the moss curtains outside of Fenwood, over the verdant forests that shuddered in the gusting wind. There was a tension, a dread looming on the horizon that grew with each passing day. Even Eddie could sense it — the way Cybelle stared out into the swath of shifting green like she was attempting to soak up enough for the rest of her life. The way that Lazarus’ jokes were swallowed the creaking of the caravan. How nights that were once spent laughing over a roaring fire were now spent silently watching its crackling embers.

One day—just a few outside of Torgaard—the sky came crashing down. It sobbed in sheets, heavy enough to soak through Cybelle’s coat, to find the tear in her tent and make a lake of it. Lazarus ushered her inside the wagon, offered her a shirt that fit like a dress, offered to sleep on the floor. Assessing the size of the bed, and then the hard, narrow walking path, it was Cybelle who insisted they share it. She was small enough, or at least that was what she rationalized out loud. Lazarus did not argue. Her logic—unlike her tent—was water-tight. And so she climbed in between the soft linen sheets, tucked herself under the weight of the down blanket, and rested her damp, weary head on a pillow that smelled just like him.

Eddie glanced sheepishly around the restaurant, shielding the binder with his arm as Lazarus climbed in beside her. He hinged on each type-written word, lingering over the ones that stirred a fuzzy feeling. Written with careful attention to the way Lazarus’ chest rose and fell, how stiff their bodies were in hyper-awareness of the nearness to each other. How solid his shoulder felt under Cybelle’s cheek when the corner of pillow no longer sufficed. Slowly, they relaxed into the feeling. Not enough to sleep, but enough for Lazarus to free the arm that she was crushing. Enough to wrap it around her shoulder, to relish in the feeling of her cold nose in the warm crook of his neck.

It was good like this. Better when her fingers draped across the landscape of his pecks, felt his chest rise and fall like waves. Best when they awoke in the morning to the sun steaming in through the small, stained glass window above them. When their giggles shook the wagon. When their eyes met, closer than they’d ever been before. There, in the dim cocoon far outside the turning world, the smile that she had hidden for so long finally grew brave enough to capture his. And by the time they reached the towering stone walls of Torgaard, there was nothing more to hide from one another.

Eddie flipped the page to find only a black, plastic pocket. He rubbed it with his fingers to make sure it wasn’t sticking to another. When it failed to separate, he sat back and fumed. That was it. There was no more. No ending, no closure.

Sheri leaned against the top of the booth seat opposite him, hand on her hip, shifting between her dirty white sneakers with a tired sigh. “Listen sweetie, I’ve got ten minutes left of my shift. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, but I’ve gotta cash you out before I leave.”

Eddie glanced at his watch, almost 2:00. “Yeah—yeah, no problem. Sorry for the trouble.”

“’S no trouble, just the way it goes around here. Hope you enjoyed your stay,” she said with a wink as she dropped the check.

After six hours and two meals, Eddie had gotten his fill of watching the world turn through an old, frosted window. His head was spinning enough on its own. With a frustrated huff he peeled his graph paper and manual away from the sticky table before shoving them into his backpack. Slugging it over his shoulder, he grabbed the grease-stained check and made his way to the register. That was when he noticed it — the lonely, half-eaten omelette on the bar.

“Alright that’ll be ten seventy-five,” chimed Sheri.

Tinsel glittered on the tree. Red, metallic bulbs swayed in the echo of his footsteps. Judy Garland caroled on about a merry little Christmas and he wondered if your characters would ever enjoy anything over their shared kitchen table or if that dream would be abandoned for their duties as well.

“Sir?”

Snapping out of his trance, he fished for his wallet and palmed her a twenty. “Keep the change,” he muttered before turning toward the door with a hoist of his backpack.

Her jaw hung open. “Oh my word, are you serious?” she called to his back, but the bell above the door was the only answer she received.

______

Main Street Vinyls was a ghost town on a Thursday afternoon, and Eddie preferred it that way. Aside from Jerry at the counter, it was just him and his noisy thoughts, accompanied by the slow plod of his own heavy boots as they weeped against the carpet. At least in this store he could escape the onslaught of Christmas tunes. Jerry—old hippie that he was—at least had some sense. Sometimes even sense enough to play some halfway decent rock music, but today Eddie would settle for Neil Young over the jingle bell garbage blasting through every speaker in Hawkins.

Glancing down the rows of plastic cassette spines, Eddie perused the M section as he kicked himself for giving away almost ten dollars. There was an album by a new band he’d only read about in magazines called Megadeth. Turning the tape over in his hands, he examined the cover. Everything about it spoke to him — the skull with its mouth chained shut surrounded by knives and candles, the title — Killing Is My Business. Flipping it over to the back, the phrase continued in haunted red letters …and Business Is Good!

The change he gave away in a fit of blind stupidity would have easily afforded it and left him with some to spare. With a bitter sigh, he shoved the tape back in its slot, knowing for a fact that the cash register at Benny’s had eaten the last bill he had in his wallet. Padding slowly down the aisle, he began his calculations.

He had a few regular deals lined up this weekend but would need to dig into his “savings” in the bottom of an old tobacco tin and pay Rick a visit before any of that happened. He might make eighty bucks if he was lucky. Maybe eighty more over the course of the week between the deals at school. Nobody wanted to spend too much time outside this time of year, so the park bench location was always iffy depending on how bad it was. He would resort to other classic meetup spots, like under the bleachers or the back of his van.

If he networked enough he might have some left over after helping Wayne with the bills. Scanning past the Tina Turner and T-Rex tapes, he wondered how much Wayne suspected about his little business. Surely he had to have some suspicion. Gig money, odd jobs, and oil changes for neighbors couldn’t possibly afford the kind of gear he had, or the ink in his skin, or the cash he contributed monthly. Wayne was sharp, and though he was no saint himself, he shuddered to think what he would say if he discovered his nephew was straying down the same path his brother took.

Peering back over his shoulder, he eyed the Megadeth tapes again—only three in stock—lined up like gifts wrapped in cellophane. They were such tiny things. Small enough to hide beneath his palm, to slide into the pocket of his coat with room to spare. Glancing up at the angled surveillance mirror in the corner of the store, he saw Jerry at the counter, humming obliviously as he stuck price tags on a fresh shipment of tapes. Over the tall shelf that separated them, he expected to meet his own eyes, but instead saw another man. A man he hadn’t seen in quite a while.

Eddie remembered finding a G chord for the first time; how big the fretboard felt in his small hand, how awkwardly his fingers had to stretch, how a larger set of hands had helped him find it. He earned a broad smile when the chord rang out, one he would search for again and again with every strum.

Sometimes in the late evenings as he crept past Wayne with a lunchbox full of drugs while he was watching reruns of Bonanza on the couch, Eddie would tell himself that at least he wasn’t stealing cars, or drinking himself half to death, or rotting behind county bars. At least he was still in school, something Warren Munson couldn’t say even at sixteen. At least Eddie could say he was trying.

With a bitter shake of his head, he continued down the aisle, leaving the tapes behind for the record bins that lined the walls. Mindlessly he walked his fingers over the cardboard spines, glazing past titles he’d seen a dozen times. Nothing new. Nothing different. Few things ever were in Hawkins. Every day he’d wake up and slog himself to a different type of prison, sit in a classroom for eight hours and actively feel his brain rotting. He would crumple up his failed tests and shove them in his backpack, endure the stares from kids whose parents cared enough to give them a ride to school, day after day. And every day he would come home and see the twinge of pride on Wayne’s face for the fact that he’d gone at all.

There were a few perks to sticking around, like running his club, and saving lost sheep, and seeing his friends everyday. Like having a swath of potential customers all in one place. It was safe and familiar, like a cage. His little business might be dangerous and criminal but at least it could afford him one thing he valued even more than ink or gear — freedom. Time, for another thing. Flexibility. It sure as hell beat making three dollars an hour flipping burgers or having to answer to some corporate boot-licker telling him what to do. Eddie huffed sharply, wondering what you would think if you knew. You, with your tightly buttoned blouses and endless patience. You, the very last person he wanted to disappoint.

The last look he’d seen on you destroyed him when he thought about it; the pain in your eyes and bitter line your pretty lips became. You were just about the only reason he had left to show up to class anymore, and now that was getting in the way of the one thing that actually had potential in his eyes. Way more potential than a stupid piece of paper that says, congratulations, you’re a real member of society and not a complete disappointment.

You had asked him a question back when you’d first made the arrangement to help him, one that rattled around in his brain ever since. Why did he want to graduate? If his memory served him, he’d given a relatively bullshit answer: to prove all the assholes in this god-forsaken purgatory wrong. It still held a fair amount of truth, but when he glanced up at the surveillance mirror again and saw himself this time, the real answer was abundantly clear. But was proving a point worth the risk of losing you?

The smell of cardboard and cellophane kissed his face as air puffed between each record falling forward. Each a different picture, some repeats of the same. Rock gods wielding wicked weapons, bathed in holy stage lights somewhere in New York or Los Angeles probably. Somewhere important. Sometimes at the Hideout he would close his eyes and imagine he was on one of those stages, but when he would open them as the last note rung out, it was always the same — just Bill and Drunk Sam, maybe a couple of bikers perched at the bar with their backs to him. Empty stools and sticky tables. A weak applause.

Eddie stepped back from the record bin with a heavy sigh and glanced at his watch. He’d killed about thirty minutes in this store, which meant he had at least twenty more before he could return home without triggering Wayne’s suspicious questions. The walls were starting to close in around him — posters like windows into a world far out of reach. Every million dollar strum reverberating through the speakers like a mocking reminder. With a half-hearted wave to Jerry stocking shelves, he left the store. Empty handed.

The drive down Randolph was always dismal, especially in the bleak winter light. Storefronts with yellowing signs that hadn’t changed in twenty years selling mattresses and televisions. A gas station with a rusted awning, dusted with snow. Architecturally speaking, the church was about the most interesting building, but only because it was brick and made up of more than just four flimsy walls. Even that was being generous though. The most exciting thing to happen to Hawkins since the housing development over by Factory Lane thirty years ago was the shopping mall that opened this past summer. Thrilling.

No matter where he drove within a fifty mile radius, it was all the same — a tomb where dreams went to die.

Gripping the steering wheel, he watched the car in front of him make grooves in the dirty slush, hypnotized by the spray off the sides of the tires. It wasn’t until he saw the high school approaching in his peripherals that he even looked up. It always felt good to be on the other side, especially when he wasn’t supposed to be. He could almost see you in there; brushing the chalk off your hands, shifting between your tired feet as you glanced at the clock, gazing out the window with a longing he’d seen in his own reflection — caught sometimes at night in his drivers seat window as he cruised the highway, dreaming of where it could take him.

As the squat fortress faded in his rearview mirror, he pictured you five years from now. Ten. Twenty. Wasting away in front of that chalkboard. Rattling on about stories written by dead people while your own collected dust inside a closet. While your talent withered like the dead, crumpled leaves under the snow; buried and forgotten.

With a hard right onto Prospect, he set out on the final stretch towards home. Sometimes he liked to imagine what might happen if he just kept going, just drove into the sunset and only stopped for gas. He had a vague idea from the movies and the maps that swayed in the wake of Ms. O’Donnell’s lumbering footsteps. Sometimes in the height of his boredom he would lose himself in them, imagine he was at a diner in the desert on his way to a gig with an actual sound system. Because somewhere out there—beyond the flat horizon—there were mountains, and canyons, and cities where names couldn’t follow.

______

“How does it end?” Eddie asked you on Friday between the fourth and fifth period bells. You glanced up from the stack of papers on your desk, cocking your head with narrowing eyes. “Your story,” he clarified.

“Oh.” Blinking, you sat back to ponder. “You know, I don’t think I ever fully decided. Cybelle is in a difficult position. The whole reason she set out on this adventure was to save her brother. I imagine she would want to fulfill her quest, but if she returned to Myrne, it may be difficult to leave again. Plus, she may receive some sort of punishment for leaving in the first place. I had written the laws to be quite strict, if I recall. And then if she chose not to return, her mother would lose two children. No matter what, she loses.”

Eddie furrowed his brow, shifting between his boots with a pained sigh. “I would hardly call a life with Lazarus losing. She seems happy with him.”

“Right, well, of course that would be ideal, but…” you tsked, “it’s complicated, and honestly that’s partially why I abandoned it. I really wrote myself into a corner. Well, that and student teaching started to eat up my time. Then it was finals, and moving, and then after that I met…” you trailed off with a bitter shake of your head. “Anyway, I guess life got in the way. It has a way of doing that, I’ve noticed.”

Eddie looked at you, really looked. You, in your cable knit sweater with pen on your hand and sandbags under your eyes, casting them down over your work with the same amount of hope he’d seen from players rolling threes with even fewer hit points to spare. He racked his brain for something he could offer—a dramatic death speech or a new character sheet—but you weren’t playing and he wasn’t prepared. Any words of comfort forming on the tip of his tongue were swallowed by the ringing bell, and he exited your classroom feeling the same as when he entered; unsatisfied.

______

It was starting to close in around you — the colored lights and ornaments, the mall Santas and fake green swags draping from shop windows. It was the first Christmas you’d truly spent in Hawkins since you graduated college, outside of day trips for visits. Surprisingly little had changed, the main thing being the fact that there even was a mall for Santa to post up in. Duplication must have been one of his many powers because he was still at Sears too, at least he was on Saturday when you dragged yourself out of the oppressive quiet of your apartment and into the bustling chaos.

You had no idea what to get your relatives for Christmas. You never really did, but this year it seemed insurmountable. This year you had no one to bounce ideas off of, and the constant mental chatter left little to no room for inspiration. As you scanned the shelves of cookware and appliquéd dish towels with snow men and reindeers, nothing really seemed to jump out at you.

What did jump out at you—or rather, jumped out at his sister—was a little boy across the aisle hiding in a circular rack of women’s bath robes. Pressing apart the terrycloth like curtains, he would retreat into his makeshift cave to the complete oblivion of his mother, who seemed more preoccupied with the price tags on a set of lingerie than with the whereabouts of her children.

A fantasy tugged at the corners of your mind, more sinfully indulgent than the one you had in class last week involving your desk and Eddie’s tongue. This time the set was the same as the scene before you, only the little boy had a mess of dark curls and Eddie was diving in after him. Not to scold him, but to play. You could almost see those fraying knee holes widening from contact with the carpet. Almost hear the giggles and the shushes and the click of his rings against the metal pole in the center of the rack for balance. You could almost turn around and see them popping out at you, feel the laughter ripple up through your very full belly and into the corners of your eyes as you feigned surprise to both of their delight. You could almost feel the glares from the other shoppers, the regular people eager to get on with their Saturday in peace, same as any other. It wouldn’t matter though, not in your little world.

The real mother in the real world did eventually turn around, grabbing the boy by the wrist and demanding he stay by the cart. Turning a dish towel over in your palms, you lowered your eyes to the machine-embroidered stitching of a corn cob pipe and a button nose as the fantasy disintegrated. You left the store shortly after, your cart just as empty as when you’d arrived.

On Monday it was hard to look him in the eyes. It was easier to meet Diane’s. At least this week you could hold a conversation without crumbling like Ms. Click’s half-eaten fruitcake up for grabs in the teachers lounge. But the coffee was bitter on your tongue, like a lie you were telling yourself.

In accordance with your wishes, there had been no rap of knuckles on your door frame after school, no screeching of chair legs dragged across the tile, only the dull thud of folders sliding into your bag, the surprising click of a magnet under the flap.

On Wednesday you left behind footprints in the parking lot before it had even half cleared, only to be swallowed by the emptiness of your apartment. You filled the space with what you could manage — an early dinner, and an early bedtime. Sleep seemed to be the only thing that quelled the battering ram thoughts, the scales tipping back and forth so much it made you queasy. You would lie there and dream of swirling smoke and plush lips, of arthritic fingers punching numbers on an office phone as you sat and accepted your fate. You would toss and turn, back and forth until your sheets became a tangle, and when you faced the mirror Thursday morning you barely recognized the person staring back.

When the final bell rang on Friday, the hallways cleared out like someone had yelled fire. A mass exodus of students and staff, flowing into the parking lot like a tidal wave outside your classroom window. You watched them as snow fell in clumps, as bright colored backpacks disappeared into the back of sedans, as cars peeled out like a parade into the street.

Assessing the paper mountain range framing your desk, you made an educated guess at how you would be spending your two week break. In hindsight, it might have helped to make the due date for the senior creative writing project last Friday instead, but deep down you knew you would have hardly made a dent by now.

When Ms. Click popped her head in to wish you a merry Christmas on her way down the hall, she seemed surprised to find your hand still moving across paper, not swaddled in mittens like hers. You brushed it off with something casual, the type of thing any regular person would say before the holidays. That it was too much to take home. That getting work finished now would leave more time with your family. You omitted the more personal details like how empty your apartment felt and the small, naked tree your mother brought over last weekend. This seemed to placate her, and with a cheery wave she left you in the silence of your classroom with only the ruffling of paper for company.

It was eery how quiet it was, but it afforded you a small hill of graded papers in the last hour, double what you would typically accomplish in front of the television. Thumbing through what remained of that stack, you counted each staple. Five, six, seven… you stopped when a certain name jumped out in MLA format.

Eddie Munson American Literature — 4th Period 20 December 1985

No title.

Papers fluttered to the desk as they fell from your hands, leaving only his. You held it gingerly between your fingers, as if it was alive. As if it could feel you, or rather, you could feel him through every type-written letter, through the thumb-sized grease stain in the top righthand corner. You could almost hear him too, shifting into a deep, dramatic narration.

Mount Myrne loomed on the horizon like a dark omen. Towering over the bustling docks of Torgaard, it disappeared beneath the ominous clouds with a formidable presence. Merchants scattered about, hauling their wares in heavy crates and barrels onto the many zeppelins.

This was where Lazarus first met Cybelle. In his mind’s eye he could almost see her stumbling about in her clean silk boots and glimmering gold coat. But her appearance today told a different tale. Her boots were caked with mud, her coat was splattered with muck and tattered by claws, her mask hung crooked on her face. Those large eyes that once glimmered with hope and wonder now stared off into the distance with oppressive sadness at the looming mountain.

This was where he was supposed to leave her. This was what they had agreed upon many moons ago. Cybelle just stood there, shifting back and forth between her tired feet as she dug her thumbs under the straps of her heavy knapsack that now held the rare and precious ghostfern. She finally had what she came for. Any moment now she would be moving those muddy boots toward the docks and use what little coin she had to barter a one-way trip back home.

That was the plan anyway..

Cybelle was frozen though. Fearfully, woefully, bitterly, she gazed upon her gold gleaming home in the sky with a sadness that was only dwarfed by Lazarus looking down at her. He looked at her beautiful face like it was the last time he was ever going to get the chance to. He memorized it in his mind as he shuffled his own dirty boots against the cobblestone. He didn’t have eyes for anything else. Not the zeppelins, nor the merchants, nor the mountain. Only her. After a moment that felt like an eon, Cybelle took a step forward.

“Wait.” said Lazarus. Cybelle turned around with surprise but also a hint of relief. “You don’t have to do this.”

Cybelle looked up at him with a mournful frown. “Of course I do, my brother will die if I stay here.”

Lazarus shook his head bitterly. “No, he will die if the ghostfern stays here.” he said.

Cybelle sighed as she looked out across the docks, “But how is it going to get there if I do not deliver it? No one is allowed within the city walls if they are not from Myrne.”

Lazarus furrowed his brow as he watched the merchants at work, hauling their wares aboard the large, formidable aircrafts. Suddenly he had an idea. “There are docks in Myrne, correct? And Myrnish merchants who take goods into the city?”

The gears were starting to turn in Cybelle’s head. “Yes, there are.”

“Well then, can we send the plant with like, a note or something? Some instructions and directions for the merchant to take where it needs to go?”

Cybelle thought for a moment. “I do know a few of the merchants by name. Arturo and I grew up together. He was my neighbor for a long time. He would know where it needs to go, and my mother would know what to do with it.” The brightness in Cybelle’s eyes dimmed suddenly as she had another thought. “But… I would never seen them again. My family.”

“Never say never, Cybelle.” Lazarus said. “Do you know that for a fact?”

Cybelle frowned heavily, “The laws in Myrne are very strict.”

“What if in the letter you told your family to meet you on the docks some other time? Perhaps in another moon or two once your brother has recovered?” Lazarus offered.

Cybelle sighed bitterly, “Only merchants are allowed on the docks. It is strictly prohibited. I was only able to come here because I snuck inside a crate. It was a miracle that they didn’t notice me.”

Lazarus kicked a stray pebble and huffed. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I cannot tell you what to do, Cybelle. Only you can make that choice. But what I can do, really the only thing I can do, is tell you how I feel.”

All of a sudden there was a knot in his stomach. Because if he was going to say anything he knew that this would be his last chance..

“All my life I’ve dreamed about that cottage by the sea with the garden, and the bed, and the omlet. When I saw that pendant you were wearing I knew that it would be my only shot at ever getting what I wanted. Magic tricks are….. not exactly lucrative. And actually, if I’m going to be totally honest here, I figure you should know the truth about me. The whole truth.” Lazarus sighed, swallowing the bile creeping up his throat at the mention of the truth. He was going to be honest though. Maybe for once in his whole life. “This is difficult for me to say, but I owe it to you if nothing else. I’m a thief, Cybelle.”

Lazarus winced at his own words and Cybelle’s fallen expression, but he bravely continued..

“I confess that for a moment when I first saw you I thought about stealing that pendant, but once I heard your story and saw so much of my own I simply couldn’t. There is a goodness in you that I admire, how selfless and pure your cause is. Over the course of the last few moons I have had the privilege of spending with you, I have come to discover how beautiful the woman beneath the mask truly is. How kind, and curious, and patient you are. I have been all over this land. Traveled far and wide, through forests and over mountains. I have swam in lakes and oceans and gazed out over countless valleys. But never has the world looked quite so hopeful than when I saw it through your eyes. It made me believe that if you could see the beauty there, if you could see the goodness in me, then perhaps I can as well.”

It was startling — the tear that leapt over your lash line. Violently enough to hit the page, to blur the Os in goodness.

“If you choose to stay I promise you that I will never steal another coin or pocket watch. It may leave me poor for the rest of my days but if they’re spent with you, then I would be the richest man of all. It is all that I can offer you. My honesty, and a promise that I will show you more beaches, more mountains, more of the world than you could ever imagine. And since I intend to keep my promise, here is my honesty: I love you. Regardless of what you decide.”

With a trembling hand, you turned the page only to discover there was nothing on the back. Sitting back in your seat with a ragged sigh, you stared out into your empty classroom. Your nose stung, fluorescents flaring in your tear-blurred vision. Separating the pages with your thumb, you flipped back and read it again. The last paragraph. The last two sentences. Those three type-written words. Over and over, wedging in the cracks of your armor as your sniffles echoed off the tile.

The sun was dipping below the treeline, flooding the near-empty parking lot with a wash of somber pink. The snowfall had ceased, settled into the footprints and tire tracks. Glancing up at the clock and back down at the papers, you tried to imagine lifting another, scanning over sentences and writing in the margins like you hadn’t been completely upended by the one that trembled in your grasp. You couldn’t.

Tears dripped down your cheeks as you donned your coat, as you shuffled overstuffed folders into your satchel and slung its weight over your shoulder. You swiped at them with your scratchy wool sleeve, flicking off the lights and shutting the door.

The soft pink had cooled to twilight blue when your boots met the blanket of snow, leaving tracks in the clean, fresh powder. Your breath trailed behind you in heavy clouds. It was quiet here too, barely a scattering of cars in the parking lot. Not even the wind disturbed the limbs of the orderly saplings between the curb and sidewalk, dusted with a glittering powder.

Your hands found your keys, and the key found the hole, and soon you were sliding into your frigid leather seat, tossing the weight of your satchel on the passenger’s side with a dejected thump. You sat there a moment with only your breath for company before flicking your wrist at the ignition.

Nothing.

Stomping on the break, you lurched forward with conviction this time, as if you could convince it you were serious. All it awarded you was a weak, persistent click. It’s fine, you told yourself through gritted teeth as you lunged again, snapping your wrist with a startling anger, like the seal had been cracked on a two liter pop bottle that had rolled around in the trunk for a week and a half. Still, nothing but a pathetic click. A split second thought crossed your mind—that the ferocity of your stomp might actually damage the car—but the logic was quickly snuffed out by your rage. The hard plastic key bit into your numb fingers. Over and over — stomping, twisting, cursing. Cursing yourself most of all for being stupid enough to let this continue for months. You were paying for it now.

The tears were already waiting, primed behind your eyeballs, hardly dried on your cheeks when you left out the back door. They spilled over again, cooling as they dripped past your lashes, down the slope of your nose. One more time, you begged. Just one more time and I’ll be good, I swear. But the white Chevy Nova sat unmoved, offering only a vacant whine where there should have been a roar. You tossed back in your seat and huffed, chest heaving, filling the cramped space with the furious steam of your breath.

Snowflakes glittered in the floodlights, shining like flares through the blur of your tears. It might have been beautiful on any other evening — one where the engine was warm, and your mind was clear, and your heart didn’t sink like a pit in your chest. It was hard to notice anything outside your bitter sobs, most especially the shadow that appeared in the window beside you. The rap of rings on the glass had you jumping, whipping your head to face the set of eyes you’d been avoiding most of all.

“Need some help?” Eddie offered, bracing his knees in a crouch, eyes brimming with concern.

Your stomach twisted with relief, then embarrassment, then a million other things rolled into one, sick knot. Wiping the evidence from your cheeks with a futile swipe of your sleeve, you cranked down the window with your left hand. You must have looked like an absolute basket case, jerking your arm in tight circles as the barrier lowered with the urgency of a tortoise. When where was enough space for him, Eddie braced against the top of your door and ducked his head inside.

“Hey.” The warm sigh of his greeting kissed your cheek, thawing the sting of the cold.

“Hey,” you mimicked, sounding just about as stable as you felt when it came out. “W-what are you doing here so late?”

“Hellfire,” he stated simply. “You know, I could ask you the same question.”

Despite how true it was, it still felt pathetic when the answer left your lips. “Just… trying not to take so much work home with me.” You said it as casually as you could muster, but your voice betrayed you. Your cheeks were still cooling from the remnants of your tears, framing the heat from your dripping nose.

Eddie suddenly looked very serious, splintering your armor with his softness. “You ok?”

You gestured dejectedly at nothing, offering a hollow laugh. “No.”

Eddie filled the cabin with his sigh, eyes narrowing like he wanted to lunge through the window. Instead he just thumbed at the rubber and tipped his head closer, creaking your chest plate with the weight of his gaze. “You know, I could hear you clear across the parking lot,” he joked softly. “The car—I mean. Mostly. You leave your lights on or something?”

You shook your head. “It’s been doing this for months, ever since it started getting cold. I should have taken it to get checked out, but it usually starts after a couple tries.”

“Sounds like it might be the battery, or maybe the starter. I won’t know unless I try and jump it. I’ll swing around—if—if that’s ok.”

The wind ushered a curl toward his lips, and you clenched your hand to subdue it. “Yeah, it’s ok,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

With a nod, Eddie ducked out of the window and pivoted swiftly on his heels. From your side view mirror, you watched him make tracks in the blue snow with his heavy boots, hands shoved in his pockets as he glanced left and right, the ghost of his breath trailing closely behind. The seat creaked as you sat back and blinked like the cursor on a computer monitor; processing. One glance in your rearview mirror told you how disheveled you looked. Even in the twilight there was no masking the puffiness around your eyes, the mascara bleeding toward your cheeks. You swiped at them again, this time with a napkin from your glove box.

With a yank of the frigid handle, Eddie slid across the plaid and pleather padding into the drivers seat of his van. He froze for a second, glancing in his rearview mirror toward your small white sedan. Butterflies tore through his stomach, churning like a tornado as he flicked the ignition. Out of all his ridiculous fantasies, he hadn’t entertained this one. Not exactly anyway. One where you were the damsel in distress. One where he got to be the hero.

The parking lot was vacant enough to drive across the lines. Ploughing through the naked patches where cars had spent the afternoon, he rumbled up beside you. Your stomach did a summersault when he stepped out, plodding around to the front of your car with jumper cables slung under his arm.

“Can you pop the hood for me?” he asked.

The summersault rippled south through your abdomen. Reaching down under the console, your fingers found the leaver and obeyed. You felt kind of useless, just sitting there while he propped the hood onto the stand, shielding him from vision. Before you could form another thought, your hand was moving on its own, finding the plastic leaver of your door and opening it to the cold evening air.

Eddie gave a shy look from behind his curtain of curls before stepping back with a nod. “Well, good news, there’s no monsters,” he joked.

A smile cracked across your face, so genuine it almost felt foreign. You tucked your hands into your pockets, stepping closer to assess the engine like you knew what you were looking at. Your aura prickled with proximity, like his heat could thaw you even from where you stood. Eddie’s glance was soft and quick before procuring a small flashlight from his inner coat pocket. He held it in his teeth, flipping up the red and black plastic covers on the battery terminals.

“I have hands too, you know,” you said with a smirk.

With a playful side-eye, he clamped the appropriate cables onto the terminals. Removing the silver torch from his mouth, he made room for his retort. “Mmhm, best keep ‘em warm. It’s uh, kinda chilly out.”

You shook your head as a laugh escaped your nostrils in a plume. Sauntering over to his van like a dark knight, Eddie leaned in the door to pop his own hood. Your boots made tentative tracks in the snow, drawn like a magnet as he hoisted the metal. From the light pinched in his teeth you could see the expanse of the massive engine, the shadow of his furrowed brow as he unscrewed plastic knobs. What you saw more than anything though—like a filter laid over the scene—were three type-written letters. The hands that typed them fumbled with the cables, squeezed around the thick, jaw-like clamps. When they bit right where he wanted, they released; tendons flexing, knuckles pinking from the freezing air. Reflexively, he wiped them on the chest of his black hoodie peeking out from his open coat.

It might have just been the cold, but even in the twilight—in the absence of the flashlight he was tucking into his pocket—you could have sworn his cheeks flushed when he caught you staring. “Alright, um, go ahead and start your car. I’ll do the same.”

Following the tether that joined the two vehicles, you did as he told you. Nothing came of it though, just more incessant clicking. Exasperated, you tossed back in your seat before slumping out of the car once more.

“Shit, it must be the starter. Probably cracked, that’s my guess anyway by the sound of it,” Eddie explained as he stepped around to face your engine again. Clicking his flashlight, he peered into the compartment. “See, if you follow the positive terminal line all the way down, that’s where the starter will be. Only problem is it’s tricky to get to without a lift.”

You followed his grease-stained finger down the dirt-dusted tangle of tubes, drawing nearer under the subtle guise of interest in your engine. You stopped just inches from his solid leather frame, close enough to brush him with your elbow. “You seem to know your way around a car.”

He huffed, shaking his head as he muttered. “Wish I didn’t.” But before you could comment, he was shutting the hood. “I’m sorry, but I think we’re gonna have to call a tow truck.”

Your defeated sigh rose toward the clouds as you glanced at the squat school building. The lights were off. Judy’s car was absent from the lot, as were all but a handful, including the two of yours. Glancing at your watch under the floodlights, the big hand tipped past the golden dot where a five should be.

Eddie stepped closer, filling the gap with a heavy exhale before meeting your eyes. “You know I could, um—” he scratched the back of his neck, words evaporating quicker than his breath. What could he do? What could he really do about any of this? For most of his life he’d been a leaf on the wind, scuttling across the pavement toward the gutter, struggling to steer himself away. But you were stranded, and if there was anything he was good for, it was a ride. “I could—I could take you back to your place. If you’re ok with that, I mean. We could—fuck—I mean you could call from there a-and I could—”

There were chinks in your armor, cracking with each bumbling word. You looked at him, really looked. Eddie Munson, with grease-stained hands and eyes that pierced like arrows in their pleading. Straight through to the softest part of you, the place between your ribs that cries I want. And oh, how desperately you wanted. Wanted to soothe his worried lips in yours again, to feel his pounding chest again, to be thawed by his heat again. But you just stood there, frozen.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his open coat, he shifted on the balls of his feet as he searched for more words in the snow. “Look, I know you said you wanted space, a-and it probably seems like—shit.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing with a sharp sigh. “I just want to help you. Will you just let me help you? Please?”

Your chest plate clattered to the concrete, gauntlets falling in a heap beside your greaves. There was no white flag to wave. No sword to relinquish, or shield to discard. Your surrender was nothing but a soft “okay,” barely heard above the howling wind.

______

A/N: After over a year and 100k words, the smut chapter is finally upon us! Thank you for coming with me on this very long journey and sticking it out. I have no idea how long this next one is going to take me to write, but I can promise you that when it’s finished you will experience every moment in exquisite, delicious, poetic detail.

You might have noticed that I’ve pulled a few small details like character names and places from Flight of Icarus, but I will not be retconning any of Eddie’s backstory.

Also random, tumblr decided to make that one paragraph bold once I changed it to chat font with no ability to unbold it, but that wasn't intended. It kind of worked though so I'm not mad.

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @raccoonboywrites @storiesbyrhi @trashmouth-richie @keeponquinning @munson-blurbs @blueywrites @alottanothing @bebe07011 @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @mrsjellymunson @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @big-ope-vibes @barbiedragon @ladylilylost @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @chaoticgood-munson @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi @sllooney @lunaladybug734 @callingmrsbarnes @ajkamins

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson older reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x teacher!reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson angst #don't stand so close to me #dssctm

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ronwestbreeze · 10 months

Text

you're gonna go far | 6

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 8.5k

read on AO3

It was a little difficult to get out of bed that morning.

One of those days.

Long and exhausting. It was challenging to get stuff done. You knew things like this wouldn’t just go away instantly. But you hoped that maybe…

It wasn’t too bad like before. You were able to think about the chores that had to be done later in the day and pushed yourself out of the bedroom.

So you went through most of the day barely existing. Norm was the first to notice your slight change in behavior because he began trying to joke more with you—no matter how bad they ended up being—and tried getting you out of your head. And you were thankful for that. At least that’s what was different this time around. You weren’t entirely alone nor held up in your room.

That was progress, right? You honestly couldn’t tell. Sometimes you felt like you were still stuck, that you weren’t moving forward. Or getting better. At least back to what you used to be.

Yet, you’ve been this way—asleep—for so long that you have forgotten what you used to be like. You forgot when the last time you smiled. You forgot when you felt the most happy or any other emotion besides anger and grief.

You wondered where that part of you went. Some days you went searching. Other days you somberly accepted that it was a part of you, that you were never going to get back.

At some point, you figured it died along with your mother.

“You want me to check on the baby today?” Norm asked you as you were getting ready for your link for the day.

You shook your head as you sat on the link bed, “No, I’ll be fine. Just one of those days, you know? We all have em’.”

He frowned when you shrugged it off or appeared a little too nonchalant about it, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Thanks for offering though.”

“Anytime, Doc.” He gave you a pat on the shoulder, while watching you particularly closely, “Just tell me you need a break. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

He was nice. You needed something like that.

Neytiri noticed it too.

While the two of you were in the garden that day, Neytiri had been saying words in Na’vi for you to repeat. And you did it, not perfectly of course, but you managed. It was just that you didn’t take in any information. Not in the way she knew you to.

You had a certain look that told Neytiri you were hanging onto her every word, whenever you were learning something new from her. Eyes slightly vibrant with curiosity.

That look wasn’t there today. Instead, in its place was a dullness and lifeless sort of unfocused gaze.

Your ears were low again.

Neytiri didn’t know when she became so attentive to your moods or facial expressions. So much so that she could tell when you were somewhat happy and really, painfully sad—

You were just easy to read in this form.

Yes, that was it.

“What is wrong, tanhi?” Neytiri eventually asked because she didn’t completely despise you so much to ignore your change in mood.

There was a twitch in your ears when you heard your name being called. You looked up from the newly planted mushroom seeds you had been mentally counting at Neytiri to find her staring at you expectantly. “Huh?”

She rolled her eyes, “You are not listening. I know you are distracted. What is wrong with you?”

You cringed at yourself for allowing yourself to get so distracted by your swimming thoughts. Drowning in them as usual. “It’s nothing. Just have a lot on my mind.”

But the answer did not satisfy her. Neytiri shook her head, “Sky People are always hiding their feelings. You are doing that. It is okay to be sad. It is natural.”

“I’m not hiding it—” You sighed, turning your gaze back to the mushroom seeds. “It’s just one of those days. Maybe—Maybe today I am sad. I could barely get out of bed and tomorrow it might be worse—what are you doing?”

You watched as Neytiri got up and moved behind you. A second later, you feel a brief tugging at your hair until it became loose from your short braid. “If you want to learn our ways, then you must take care of your hair. I look at it and it is a mess.”

“It was in a braid before…”

“I did not like it.”

With that, she got up again and trekked back into the forest. You watched her go in bewilderment at the sudden change of conversation and attitude from the Na’vi woman. You had no idea what had come over the woman or what made her suddenly leave, but you didn’t focus on it for too long. The confusion and startlement you had was enough energy to continue planting the rest of the mushrooms. You didn’t bother putting your hair back into a braid, not wanting to spend time threading through the thick strands until your fingers were too sore to complete your job. And the last thing you needed was something stopping you from finishing this one simple task—

A splash of cold water was suddenly dumped onto your head, leaving you soaking wet.

And terribly pissed.

You snapped your head behind you to find Neytiri placing the leaf down next to her—which was glistening with water. The same water that was now spilled all over you.

“Neytiri—ouch!”

“Hold still.” Neytiri hissed at you as she ran her long fingers through your hair.

You grumbled but reluctantly listened, still confused and a bit pissed at what was going on. And for a while, the two of you remained there. You, sitting on the ground still counting the seeds quietly to yourself while Neytiri stayed behind you. Braiding a few strands of hair.

It was then you realized just how different your hair was from the way it was in your human body. The hair length was very similar to how you used to wear it when you were a teenager. You wondered then just how old this avatar body was.

Once she was finally finished, she crouched down in front of you to get a better look. Her yellow irises scanning your face and her work. Tucking rebellious strands behind your ear, patting down some of the fuzziness, and making sure the braid was visible around your face.

You watched her quietly. And soon, when she was done obsessing over your hair, she watched you too.

It wasn’t the way you and Jake watched each other. This—this had something different about it.

Time was an illusion here. Trapped in her yellow gaze. You hadn’t realized you had been staring for so long—nor did you realize you had briefly glanced at her lips—until a sudden sound from the forest pulled the both of you out of this strange trance.

And once you snapped to your senses, your body quickly reacted. You shot to your feet and cleared your throat, “I gotta check on the avatar now.” You didn’t meet her gaze. “I’ll see you.”

Before she could stop you, you already scurried off. Stopping once you were far enough away out of her sight.

Stopping when you felt a new pair of eyes watching you rather closely.

You glanced around the forest surroundings as you approached the longhouse with a frown until your eyes locked on another pair of yellow eyes. Severe ones.

Tsu’tey was in the trees further away but enough for you to see him watching you, even when you caught him doing so. He did not look away from you. Narrowed eyes and that scowl resting on his angular face.

For a moment you wondered what the look was for. You wondered what he could yell at you about this time, even though you listened to his demands and had stayed away from the Omatikaya territory.

A scared part of you wondered if he had seen you and Neytiri just now.

Nothing happened. But still, it would give enough ammunition for him to verbally attack you. Hate you even more possibly.

Except there would be no battle today. As Tsu’tey disappeared within the trees without a word.

You were confused but relieved at the same time.

Dealing with an angry clan leader was not on your to-do list. Nor were you properly prepared for it.

After watching the trees in silence, you eventually went inside.

Neytiri watched your retreating figure with a frown, her heart…shifting—only a little bit as you disappeared. Her gaze then moved toward the trees, the area where the sound had come from before. And with an irritated frown, she got up and stalked toward the area.

They were still there. She could feel their eyes on her as she went further into the forest. With a hiss, she glared at the trees, “Come out. Enough hiding!”

Just a little bit above her, a few feet away a familiar warrior snaked out of the bushes and seated himself on the large branch with his usual expression he wore whenever he was away from their shared hut.

Neytiri frowned up at Tsu’tey, “You are watching me.”

“I am watching her.”

After a beat and a quiet sigh, Neytiri climbed up the tree and joined him. Despite his very sour mood, he tugged her close to his side as they sat together. On the branch, they had a good view of the Avatar Compound. A few dreamwalkers were running about but none of them seemed to bother Tsu’tey as much as you did. Neytiri could easily tell with how he kept glaring at the longhouse, the same place she always watched you disappear in whenever you left your false body.

“You have been spending time with her,” Tsu’tey stated more so than asking. There wasn’t much to hide, they both knew Neytiri spent some of her free time visiting you. Only when Tsu’tey or Jake are busy with their duties and she’s finished with hers before the both of them. “I do not like it.”

“She has done nothing.” Neytiri reasoned.

“Yet.”

“And what did I say if she does? I would kill her myself.”

As she said this, Neytiri felt a certain wavering in her heavy words. Like a part of her didn’t believe it anymore.

She rested her head on his shoulder, hugging his arm with a content sigh, “But I cannot ignore what the Great Mother has shown me. She has stopped my bow before and now she’s done it a second time. Do you not think it means something, yawne?”

In the corner of her, she watched as his jaw tightened, his features becoming particularly focused. “I do not trust this.”

“You do not trust the Great Mother?”

“That is not what I mean.” He corrected her calmly. Neytiri knew that Tsu’tey, like any other child of Eywa respected her and trusted in her signs. Always had. That was how he was raised. And she knew he wasn’t about to abandon that because of one demon.

But his words were still reluctant, “I do not know where our Great Mother is leading us. I do not know why she wants that demon spared—when she is just like the rest of them.”

Neytiri considered his words, “Perhaps she is like Jake—”

“There is only one Jake. And she is nothing like him.”

She made a sound of disagreement but didn’t push further on the subject. She noticed how tense he was, how tense he had been for the past week. She wondered then if he was truly upset by this or if there was something more to this quiet anger he so carefully restrained. Of course, his hatred for the Sky People was no question.

But Neytiri knew Tsu’tey.

Skin and bone. Heart and soul.

She knew her mate. Not only as a mate but as a friend. They had grown up together. Along with her sister, Sylwanin. There was nothing he could hide from her even if he tried.

“She may not be like Jake. But clearly, the Great Mother has chosen her for a reason. My mother even allows her to stay—I believe it is time you seek the answers.”

Tsu’tey scoffed but didn’t brush her off. Instead, he leaned in closer, allowing his hand to rest on her growing stomach. “You will be a great Tsahik.”

“Not as great as my mother. Nor my sister.”

Tsu’tey shook his head and cupped her cheek, “You will be great, my beautiful heart.”

A soft smile tugged at her lips only to falter when she noticed how exhausted he truly looked. How close he looked to breaking but hiding it. He could never hide it well from her. Nor Jake.

She then took his face in her hands and whispered soothingly, “What is it, my love?”

Knowing that there was no point in denying a response—knowing that Neytiri would not stop until she got what she wanted—Tsu’tey turned away from her to stare back at the compound.

“The Tipani clan are becoming reckless. They already do not like the Sky People that have stayed—but now that the demon has come, I worry they will begin to take matters into their own hands. I worry…that our clans will begin to clash.”

Neytiri took his hand in hers and pressed a gentle kiss onto his knuckles, “If it comes to it, I will stand by you. Jake will too. But I also will ask you to speak to our Great Mother about your troubles.” She caressed his exhausted lines with a small frown, “I worry for you, Tsu’tey. I do not want you to take on this task by yourself. You have Jake and I to be with you. That is why Eywa brought us together.”

Right then, he seemed to consider her words. His gaze was still unfocused while staring at the longhouse. A silence settled between them.

“Eywa has created this new path for us.” Tsu’tey mused. “Somedays I wonder if it will lead to something good in the end.”

“Do you think it won’t?”

He was silent. And Neytiri didn’t push.

When Tsu’tey went to the Vitraya Ramunong, the night had already settled around him. When he went to kneel at the tree, connecting his queue to one of the links, his prayers were silent. But his questions were clear. His intention was pure to the Great Mother.

What does it all mean? Guide me, All Mother.

So when a single atokirina flew away from the tree, Tsu’tey took to following it both out of curiosity and apprehension. The Great Mother’s answers weren’t always clear. If anything, her signs only led to more questions.

So, Tsu’tey wondered. He wondered if this would lead to any more answers.

Or just more unwanted questions.

Tsu’tey rushed through the forest, never losing sight of the spirit. He kept going and going until he was nearing the Sky People’s base. Until the trees suddenly became familiar. Until the grounds he had seen many times before unwillingly began to appear around him.

But his body never stopped moving. He never stopped following it. Too desperate for answers. Too desperate, too yearning.

Oh Eywa, he was yearning.

And then, and then, and then.

And then he was staring down at your still false body.

It was strange. Seeing no life in your face. Tsu’tey had only seen your false body from far away, but now seeing you up close. You looked so different yet the same as your human form.

Why was he here? Why did the spirit bring him to…

No.

His vision rippled. Your body morphed from your human form to your false body—impossible.

And then he woke up.

Awake.

Tsu’tey finally realized where he was. Instead of standing in the middle of the forest chasing an atokirina, instead of standing over your false body, he was back in his hut. With his mates sleeping next to him. With his son cuddled between both Jake and him. With Neytiri hugging his waist from behind.

A dream. It was only a dream.

But why you? Why you?

Why?

“Yawne?” Tsu’tey breathed out a sigh and looked over his shoulder to find Jake shifting out of his sleep, looking at him through heavy eyelids. He sat up a bit, careful not to disturb Neteyam’s sleep as he did, “Another nightmare?”

Tsu’tey hesitated—considered the question. The dream he just had. Was it a nightmare?

“No. I am fine. Go back to sleep, my love.”

Jake didn’t look entirely convinced but eventually lied back down. Usually, it took a while for Jake to fall asleep, so Tsu’tey lay back down, adjusting Neytiri’s arm around his waist and squeezing his other hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jake asked, his voice deep and sluggish.

Tsu’tey nodded, and tucked his nose into Neteyam’s cheek as gently as he could, “I am now.”

It took you a little longer to get out of bed the following week. But you managed. You watched a few more of your mother’s logs and even some of the other ones still in the system.

Dr. Augustine. Norm. Some guy named Quaritch. And then there was Jake Sully.

As a human.

You paused the video to examine his face. You suppose the traits matched his now blue form. The only difference was that instead of his longish dreads, he had a buzz cut in the video. And a tattoo poking out of his short sleeve shirt.

Eventually, you moved on, willing yourself to forget his face for the time being.

You also tried not to think about the fact that Neytiri hadn’t been back for about a week now. Which was normal. You didn’t overthink it. Especially not after that moment—

Eventually, you moved on, willing yourself to forget your thoughts about her.

Then you remembered Tsu’tey. Him watching you so closely. You hoped he didn’t see you and Neytiri. Frankly, you weren’t sure what would happen if he did know.

He’d kill you. That’s for sure.

Eventually, you moved on, willing yourself to forget all three of them.

When you finally got out of bed, you continued with your regular schedule and tried to think of literally anything else. You tended to your garden by yourself and continued checking the baby.

There was a bit of determination for yourself, to keep moving. To not stay in one place any longer or else you’d be stuck.

And you weren’t sure if you’d make it out if you did.

Jake continued visiting the tank room whenever he could.

Today was one of them. Only this time you made it before he did.

“How’s the baby?”

You glanced up briefly from your notes, “Healthy. It might be because Na’vi babies might grow faster in pregnancy—judging by that we might have a couple more months before it’s born.”

Jake nodded, his face serious, “Anything else?”

For a brief second you didn’t respond, too caught up in your thoughts until you realized he had asked you a question. Jake tilted his head, brows furrowed at you.

You shook your head eventually, “No, everything’s all normal.”

He stared at the belly for a moment longer before he left. You were somewhat surprised at his quick retreat but didn’t think much about it. He was some type of great warrior, he was probably busy with something else in his clan. If it meant that the two of you didn’t have to interact much with him anymore or probably a lot shorter than before, then you were okay with it.

It seemed he finally took the hint.

All you could do was keep moving.

Jake came again the next day.

This time around you brought out the ultrasound.

He watched you and the machine intensely. You noticed and gave a sound close to a huff or a snort, “Nothing’s wrong with it. I’m just doing a thorough check-up today.”

A quick look of relief crossed his otherwise exhausted features, “Right, right, of course.”

Once you got the ultrasound running and connected to the avatar, you immediately found the heartbeat with the blurry image of the fetus appearing on the screen. It had grown considerably since the first time you saw it.

“There she is.” You mumbled mostly to yourself. The heartbeat was calming in a way, easing your usual tense muscles.

Jake perked up instantly, staring at you in disbelief, “She? It’s a girl?”

You glanced up at him briefly to find a soft expression on his face upon looking at the fetus. Neteyam—who you just noticed attached to his chest—sleepily snuggled closer to his father’s chest. When his head moved out of the sling, Jake held the back of his head, giving it support.

“Yes.” You gave a short nod.

Another look of relief flashed across his face, this time he didn’t try to hide it like before. A small smile tugged at his lips, “That’s—That’s nice. Amazing.”

In the corner of your eye, you watched him. That easy fatherly expression fell upon his face. How soft his smile was, for something that wasn’t even his. You weren’t sure what to think of it—no, you expected it. It was foreign. A father loving his child. To you at least.

You didn’t know your father. Nor did you have a father figure in your life. That type of love was unfamiliar to you.

Love itself was a foreign concept that you could not yet grasp. The only time you could truly say you experienced something close—similar to love—was with your mother.

And if love was like this—heavy. Leaving you…like this.

You weren’t sure you would want to experience any type of love ever again.

“You sure you’re ready to take on another?” You raised your brows, not looking up from the belly.

Jake looked at you, “Do you care for my answer?”

“I am watching over her. I suppose I should make sure she is left with somewhat tolerable parents—that is, if there aren’t any problems with her when she’s born.” You hummed, rolling your eyes at the sudden look of worry on his face. “Relax, that’s the standard check-up of any baby—well, I don’t know how different it will be compared to human ones.”

A beat went by before he finally answered, “I wouldn’t be honest if I said I wasn’t nervous. What new parent isn’t?”

“Mmm.”

The rest of the session was just the two of you, sitting in a somewhat comfortable silence. Comfortable for you because you were able to ignore him without any problems. And Jake wasn’t being too talkative or apologetic, which was a plus. But he was noticeably less hostile toward you as the time went by. Showing that he was taking the truce quite seriously and keeping his end of the bargain.

In other words, the truce was possibly the best option for you both. You could work in peace without being hammered or interrogated. And Jake would continue his visits without any problems.

You still didn’t like him. And you were sure the feelings were mutual.

But things were becoming easier.

And sometimes you like easy. Just as much as a challenge.

There was a part of him that was curious. Jake didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand Neytiri’s easy trust in you but it only made him more curious as he kept coming to see the baby.

Of course, you were guarded and curt around him. And he was quite the same but that didn’t mean he wasn’t at least a little bit interested in why you were so important to their deity.

So many questions.

A part of him wanted to ask Eywa himself—he wasn’t much used to praying to her but he would now and then out of respect for the People. If he asked, he would possibly gain an answer—which was incredibly rare—or he would gain more questions, which was the more common response.

So, Jake took to finding things out for himself. Even if it meant doing it the hard way. Even if it meant getting his head out of his ass and finally putting things into perspective.

Jake Sully was willing to at least keep this tolerable relationship with you going. Keeping this stable cord steady. You weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. It was time he had to get used to it. It was time for him to get over himself.

And he was willing to show that he did want something different. That he was ready to change, to finally understand you in a way.

But you still didn’t like him. Which was fine.

He didn’t like himself all that much either.

Another week went by and Neytiri still hadn’t come back. Surprisingly, you found yourself missing her. And when you began missing others, you got angry.

Since you didn’t feel like going through that process again, you resolved yourself to thinking that she must’ve gotten busy with her clan. Or grown tired of watching over you and your depressing personality once she realized that you weren’t a threat to her clan.

That must’ve been it. That’s what you chose to believe at that moment.

One day at a time.

You moved forward. Because you had to.

Throughout the week you focused on your work tending to the garden, checking on the baby, and even taking on more responsibilities around Hell’s Gate.

Sometimes you’d help Dr. Patel in the bio labs, other times you went with the other avatars to train your body. There were also days you would help Norm pack different human items he’d usually bring for the Na’vi children of the Omatikaya Clan. You, of course, never ventured too close to their territory whenever you went with him to drop off the items. You’d either stay in the ship you flew in or stay at the base as he left on his own.

Jake still kept coming around but his time there became shorter and shorter with each visit. Again, you didn’t bat an eye. You welcomed it and continued with your work.

Toward the end of your busy and long week, you woke up with a start when a blaring sound struck your room. It had to have been the middle of the night as you looked around frantically, only to realize the sound was coming from your tablet.

Quickly, you grabbed it to find the alarm was the system alerting you something was wrong.

And the problem was coming from the tank room.

You stumbled out of your bedroom and dashed through the long halls until you finally ended up in the tank room. Not caring that you were probably making a bunch of noise in the process.

When you got to Augustine’s tank, your heart sank when you found Grace’s avatar was violently twitching with the lights inside of the tank blaring a red.

“Fuck!” You hissed as you immediately checked for the problem.

The first thing you checked was the avatar itself. Her heart and the baby’s were fine but the avatar’s was slightly elevated, probably in response to whatever was happening to the machine which was the next thing you began to check.

There you discovered that something in it was malfunctioning. Throwing the liquid temperature off, the placentiums weren’t giving any more nutrients like they were supposed to. Whatever was going on, you didn’t have time to fix it or the machine.

If you wasted time like that more damage could be done and you weren’t going to risk that. Especially when the baby was in there. Especially when the baby could receive the worst of your mistake. Of this malfunction.

So, you worked fast.

You searched the room for an empty tank—which you were able to find and rolled it over next to the one Dr. Augustine’s avatar was in. You pulled the empty tank open just as Norm and a few other scientists entered.

“What happened?!” Norm questioned hastily.

Quickly, you jumped down from the empty tank and rushed toward Grace’s, “It’s malfunctioning. I don’t know why but we have to move her.”

Thankfully, Norm didn’t ask any more questions. He ordered the other scientists to help you.

You worked quickly. Draining the rest of the liquid from the tank, carefully moving the avatar—this required multiple hands—until you placed it in the new tank.

“Track her heart rate.” You ordered one of them.

A second later, a woman responded, “Stable but its body temperature’s dropping fast.”

By the time she said that you closed the tank. “Norm, fill it up.”

You jumped down, grabbed the heart monitor from the female scientist, and watched the lines closely. The tank was nearly filled up as Norm came up beside you.

Along with the heart monitor, your heart pounded through your ears as the tank finally filled up. You gave the monitor to Norm and went to adjust the temperature back to the usual settings.

When the blue lights came on it felt as if the room breathed a huge sigh of relief. You took the monitor back as Norm hummed, “Lucky you were the one to get here first. And quick thinking too—do you know what went wrong with the other one?”

The rest of the scientists poured out of the room as you slowly shook your head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t waste time, Spellman. Not when it could’ve risked the baby.”

Norm nodded and patted your shoulder, “You’re right. Good work, Doc.” He moved to the other side of the tank with a thoughtful expression. “You want me to stay and help with anything else?”

The lines on the monitor were stable, which brought you some sense of comfort. And yet the slight panic remained. “No, no. I’m good here. You can go back to bed. I’ll finish up here soon.”

“Okay.” Norm eventually moved toward the exit. “Get some sleep, Reeds. I’m serious.”

You nodded without looking at him. “Yeah, sure. Goodnight.”

“Good morning.” Norm corrected with a tired grin.

With that, Norm left. You breathed in a steady breath before grabbing a chair from the corner of the lab and sinking onto it. The monitor was kept nearby, the heart rate melodic in your ears as you set your tablet down on your lap.

For a while, you studied how far along the avatar was. It had been a good couple of months since you first discovered the child—which left her at about twenty-four to twenty-seven weeks at least. That’s not even counting when she first got pregnant. But compared to a human, the Na’vi pregnancy went by a lot faster, which also confirmed your theory.

Or maybe your perception of time was fucked up with how distracted and busy you had been.

Was that why the malfunction happened? Were you too distracted to notice any faults in the system during your usual sessions? What did happen?

You contemplated this for a while. Until your mind became hazy and your eyes droopy. At some point, you fell asleep next to the tank because there was no way you would leave the fetus’ side at that point. Not after all of that.

It felt as if your eyes had been closed for only a couple of seconds before you were suddenly jolted awake to find Norm standing over you.

“What happened? Is it the tank again?” You instantly asked, turning to check on the tank.

“No, no, no—the—she’s fine!” Norm quickly assured while easing you back into your chair. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

You stared at him for a beat, both a tired and an annoyed expression easily falling upon your face. “Well, I assure you I certainly wasn’t sitting with my eyes closed just then.”

Norm winced, “Sorry. I thought you’d want to get in your own bed before Jake gets here.” He rubbed the back of his neck as you got up from the chair. “I had to tell him what happened—he’s flying over now.”

“That’s fine.” You grumbled. “I can stand just one day in the same room with him. Besides, I should probably figure out what went wrong with that tank.”

Norm nodded, “Okay—uh, should I be a mediator for the both of you or..?”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I’m meeting their clan leader.”

“You really need to try and get along with him.” Norm chuckled with a shake of his head.

You scowled, “Are you going to keep yapping in my ear about it or be useful?”

“Alright, alright, don’t an ass.” He strolled toward the doorway. “Jake’ll be here in fifteen.”

Once he left, you got to work again. You weren’t an official engineer but you knew a good amount of information from your training back on Earth. You hoisted yourself up and into the tank before you began taking it apart. You stood in it, trying to find out what exactly had gone wrong—while glancing at the heart monitor now and then.

Your brain was moving quickly yet hazily from the sleep. Eyes honed in on the mess of wires in front of you. So distracted by your silent questions and theories that you didn’t hear the incoming footsteps. Only the voice that followed after.

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine.” You replied immediately, watching in the corner of your eye as he approached the new tank. His hair was tied back and across his chest was a leather strap that carried what looked like a machete. “It was just a malfunction with the tank. We were able to get her out before any real damage could be done.”

Jake frowned, “Malfunction? How the hell did you let that happen?!”

“Look, I don’t know.” You replied calmly, ignoring the twitch in your jaw. “I’m still trying to figure all that out. But she’s out of it and fine. Norm helped if that makes you feel better—”

“I thought you had things handled? What happened to that?” Jake scowled, his tone vicious.

“I do.”

“Then what the hell happened—”

“I already said I don’t know!” You seethed, glaring down at the group of wires now hanging from your hands. Somewhere in the back of your brain, you realized that Norm really did have to stand between the two of you. That this truce wasn’t stable enough. That the two of them were just too explosive. “The hell do you think I’m trying to do? Kill the baby?!”

You missed the way Jake’s face faltered slightly, catching himself. “No…No, that’s not what I—”

“Then get off my fucking dick!” You snapped, throwing a piece of the tank to the floor with a clatter.

All sound was gone from the room then.

This was the last thing you wanted to deal with. Being scolded like some child—like you already weren’t beating yourself up over this mess.

You sunk onto the floor of the tank and continued working. Because that’s what you were best at. Not conversations. Not people. Not love.

Work. It was everything to you.

Already you were mentally drowning Jake out, ignoring the fact that there was another person in the room with you. But eventually, you realized that there was nothing wrong with the wires. It must’ve been something else. Another theory down the drain.

Jake uttered your name at one point. And you ignored him.

There was a sigh followed by a short pause before he spoke, “I’m sorry.” You continued ignoring him. There was something about his apologies. You were just tired of them. “That wasn’t fair, you’re right. I shouldn’t have come at you like that—”

“Augustine’s avatar is over there.” You mumbled. “You can check on her yourself.”

There was another silence but you were too focused on what was in front of you to notice or care. You were so determined to ignore him and the sting in the corners of your eyes.

You didn’t like to cry. Especially in front of others.

Thankfully, you ignored him long enough until you realized you were finally alone.

After a while, you breathed out a tired sigh.

Fortunately, as the days went by there were no other problems with the new tank or baby, but it didn’t stop you from always double-checking everything after that close call. So much so that you didn’t realize how much sleep you were missing until Norm pulled you away from your work and forced you back into your room. Locked the door and everything just to make his point.

With the promise of Norm taking care of your work, you eventually allowed yourself to sleep for practically the entire day. Not without the tablet on the dresser next to your bed of course.

Even after catching up on some semblance of sleep, Norm still didn’t let you get back to your schedule right away. Which irritated you of course.

“I don’t want you in my garden, Spellman.”

He rolled his eyes, “And I don’t want you stressing yourself out. As your friend and colleague who happens to care about your well-being, I demand you stay away from the garden until you’re completely rested.”

You frowned at him, “We’re friends?”

“Shut up and accept my love.”

And he kept true to his word. Norm kept you away from the gardens, even the tank room. And made sure that the scientists knew how to keep you away as well. He covered all of his bases.

Damn him.

You couldn’t sit around and do nothing though. So, at some point you were so desperate you resorted to practically begging Norm to just give you something to do that would distract you throughout the whole day. You nagged and nagged and nagged until Norm finally gave in.

“There’s an old link shack north of Hell’s Gate. We’ve been thinking about restoring all of them around the area. But that particular shack’s connection is a little wonky. Maybe you could head over and restock the supplies with your avatar. Maybe even fix the connection while you’re at it.”

You nodded quickly, “Yeah, sure thing. I’ll get on that—”

“And don’t try to sneak your way to the gardens!” Norm added sternly, sending you a look over his shoulder while clicking away at his computer. “Plus, you won’t need the Samson ships. The shack’s not too far from here.”

With that, you went to grab supplies, such as med kits, weapons—one gun and a few stacks of ammo—blankets, Na’vi weapons, a hunting knife, and a bow with a few arrows. You kept the hunting knife to yourself just in case.

After getting all of this, you placed the bag of supplies in the compound longhouse where your avatar always slept when you weren’t linked. Once you got to your link bed and linked up with your avatar, you grabbed the hunting knife and the bag of supplies before taking off north from Hell’s Gate.

The sky was grey today with a few darker clouds on the horizon instead of the shimmering blue you were used to. A storm might’ve been coming.

Which meant you had to make this trip quick. There was no telling how bad these storms could get on this planet.

Similar to how you traveled through the forest with Neytiri, you took to the trees so that you’d have less of a chance of running into or disturbing any of Pandora’s finest. Hopefully, you had learned to be quiet enough to not draw any attention your way as well.

As time went by, the sky got darker. You followed the coordinates Norm gave you while slipping through the trees like the true shadow you were. Traveling and climbing through the trees got easier as you went. You had done it enough times with Neytiri that you knew what to do and how to do it. Albeit not perfectly, but enough to get by. Blending into the environment as best as you could.

You enjoyed it, the vibrant life and colors of the forest once again. Every time felt like you were taking in Pandora for the very first time. Every time felt like a huge breath of the freshest air. Here, you were weightless. You weren’t a scientist. You weren’t human. You weren’t an avatar. You were just were.

You existed here. You were real.

Truly this place was everything you dreamed of when you were younger.

Rain began to pour by the time you spotted the shack. It was propped up and well hidden in a large tree, with moss growing out of the sides, the entire thing looking like it hadn’t been used in a long time.

You slid down from a branch as quietly as you could and landed in front of the metal entrance. By the time you got the door open and crouched inside, you were soaking wet from the rain.

The shack itself wasn’t too small, which surprised you. It must’ve been made to allow avatars to be able to roam freely through here without too much trouble.

Once the door was closed, you sunk onto the empty cot in the corner of the shack and began unpacking the supplies. The med kit went into the cabinets above a wooden table attached to the wall. The blankets went on the cot. The gun and ammo went under the cot in a long black case filled with old and rusted weapons you had to throw out into the rain. You kept the hunting knife tucked in your shorts.

The rain kept going. It was relaxing. Stopping for a moment to listen. Smelling it through the cracked window next to the cot you sat on.

It was nice. You could stay here if you wanted. This could’ve been your new home if you didn’t have responsibilities at Hell’s Gate.

Lastly, you worked on the radio that sat on the wooden table—which you assumed was connected to the main base. So, for the next few minutes, you took your time messing with the radio. Listening to either ongoing static or barely audible voices going in and out. At some point, you messed with the wires a few times before Norm’s voice finally came through.

“Tomato. Tomato. Tomato.”

You pressed one of the buttons, “Hey, Norm.”

“Oh, Jesus! Reeds!” Norm startled. “Warn a guy next time!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, “I just wanted to test if it worked. Clearly, I fixed it.”

A snap of thunder drew you away from the radio. Seemed like it was getting worse out there. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been out there until now.

Norm seemed to realize this too, “You gonna stay there and unlink?”

“Mmm.” You paused. “I’m gonna try bringing the avatar back.”

He sighed, “Alright, good luck.”

“Don’t need it.” You said as you got up. “I’m too awesome.”

“Whatever, Reeds.”

Another clap of thunder filled the air as you stepped out of the shack. Immediately you were soaked by how heavy the rain was.

Thunder continued to boom, making your skin jump every now and then. It was just terribly cold, making you start to run so that you could get out of it faster.

You ran and ran, and ran, and ran, and ran, only to realize just how much noise you were making and that the area was too unfamiliar to you. It wasn’t long until you realized how lost you were. It was just too dark to navigate your way back or recognize any familiar spots guiding your way.

With that in mind, you went toward the nearest tree and began to climb.

But your body was yanked away from the tree bark almost instantly as you were tackled down to the ground by a large weight. Your left shoulder exploded with vicious pain as if a bunch of sharp knives buried itself into your skin and continued to tear through it.

A strangled scream left your lips as the thunder clapped in the sky once more. You could barely see the creature but it was a dark, large beast. Digging further into your shoulder.

You hadn’t even seen it coming. You hadn’t been paying attention.

Now…

Now you might die because of it.

You tried shoving at it, managing to get most of its weight off of you. But the teeth were still in your shoulder. There was still pain. There was still warm liquid dripping down your arm.

When you moved your leg, you remembered the hunting knife in your shorts. Immediately, you dug into your pocket and found the handle instantly.

After that, you didn’t waste any time stabbing at it blindly and desperately. You did this, you kept going until more warm liquid covered your knife-wielding arm. You did this until the animal was limp against your body. Until you were able to push it off and scramble to your feet and run.

The pain was awful but bearable enough for you to run back to the shack at least. Mud was all over your clothes—some of it in your mouth. If anything, you probably looked insane right now.

You ran. Ran. Ran. Ran. Ran. Way too clumsy to be quiet. What’s worse was you had no clue where you were. And there was more shuffling coming from the bushes and trees surrounding you. If anything, you were probably throwing yourself further into the lion’s den.

It wasn’t long until a black creature suddenly came out of the bushes in front of you, causing you to stumble to a stop as it made its way toward you. Sleek and dangerous. Eyes locked on you.

Thunder boomed again. An identical creature came out from your right. Another on your left. Another. And another. And another.

Until you were surrounded. Until you knew there was no way you were going to make it out of this.

You kept your knife in front of you, trying to ignore the pain in your shoulder, the warm liquid running down your arm, the shakiness in your legs. You began to wonder how much blood you were losing with your energy slowly dwindling as time went by—no, it didn’t matter.

Damn it, you weren’t going to die here! Not like this.

“Come on!” You hissed as you pointed the knife at them. “Come on!”

They growled at you, closing in. Finally, one of them pounced toward you. With the knife, you slashed at it. At that, the creature cringed away and missed you entirely but that didn’t mean the others were going to try their luck.

Out of instinct, you stumbled back as two more tried coming for you. Your back hit a tree as you yelled and swung your knife wildly at them.

Only neither the creature nor your blow landed.

The two creatures were thrown to the side as another clap of thunder struck your ears.

Another figure emerged from the trees and rushed toward you.

Instantly, you swung the knife, only for it to be caught in an iron grip.

You screamed.

“Hey, hey, easy!”

It took you only a couple of moments for you to register the words and that they were coming from a familiar avatar. The last person you ever expected to be here.

Jake lowered your arm with a hiss. You blinked as another round of thunder rattled your ears.

The creatures were closing in again. Jake turned his back to you, hissing at them. His larger arm stretched in front of you protectively when one of them got a little too close for his liking. The creature hissed back

You watched warily behind him, still clutching the dirtied knife. Both of you exhausted and animalistic. Yellow eyes glimmering. One with warning and the other with desperation.

Jake looked terrifying in this light. Just as murderous and dangerous as the animals that surrounded you.

You remained behind him, trembling but glaring. Gripping that knife like your life depended on it.

There was suddenly more shuffling, more thunder, and the creatures then scattered.

You, dumbfounded by this, spoke shakily, “Why did they—”

Jake grabbed your wrist holding the knife.

“We need to move.” He said, dragging you forward.

The two of you ran in the opposite direction of the creatures. He hauled you up a tree before climbing up himself. “Is there a link shack nearby?”

For a moment, you wondered how he knew about the link shacks. You leaned on a branch both to catch your breath and because the quick movements left you a bit dizzy. When you couldn’t come up with plausible answers to your silent question you instead said, “I just came back from one. North from here—I don’t know how far it is.”

Your body leaned a little too far. Jake was quick to grab you in his stronger, more stable arms as he pulled you away from falling off the edge, “Hey, hey, Reeds, I need you here with me, okay? Just stay awake long enough until we get to the shack and we’ll clean you up.”

“I’ve...I’m losing a lot of…” Blood. Blood was what you wanted to say. But the adrenalin was wearing out. Your shoulder throbbed horribly. Exhaustion weighed you down and placed inconvenient black spots in your vision.

“I know.” He draped your good arm over his shoulder and kept you upright. “I know, we’ll get there. I promise.”

There was no arguing with him. You were soaked to the bone and in a hell of a lot of pain. Going back to the shack was your best bet in this horrid weather.

Jake continued to support your weight as the two of you followed the same coordinates leading back to the shack—or rather you haze inaudible directions of what you could remember from the information Norm had given you while Jake haphazardly followed.

Thankfully, the rest of the way wasn’t a long journey. Or maybe you just kept blacking in and out along the way, you didn’t know.

Jake and you stumbled through the door of the shack. He closed the door while you made your way to the radio with whatever strength you had left.

“Norm.” You tapped the radio while wincing. The pain in your shoulder was getting worse. Before now you had been tolerating it. “Norm, can you hear me?”

The static went on.

“Storm must be messing with the signal,” Jake said from behind you as he rummaged through the shack. “We should stay here until the storm settles—”

You rested your head against the small table, the rest of his words becoming nothing but muffled noise to your ears. God, you’ve lost so much blood. And you were so tired.

For a moment, just for a few seconds, you wanted to sleep. Only for a moment.

“Reeds.”

A larger hand rested on the back of your neck, bringing you slightly out of your unconsciousness.

Jake kept calling your name. “Hey, where’s the med kits at? We need to work on your arm, okay? And I need you to stay awake. Can’t have you unlinking in this condition.”

Sluggishly, you nodded, “They’re in the cabinets.”

More thunder rolled by. Jake left your side briefly to search through the cabinets above you. You leaned back in your seat, staring bleakly up at the ceiling.

“How long do these storms last?” You asked.

The thunder responded with a clap.

sorry for the long wait! hopefully it was all worth the wait. another 8k chapter, yay, that wasn't difficult to write at all lol! but now jake and reeds are alone in a shack. anything could happen....

(i'm not adding anymore people anymore!)

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @squirtlebob @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0

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