#next prompt: skeleton

[emptyjunior]

Enough random notes that have a written story on them as environmental storytelling, explore the space, get crazier with it.

You move into a house and aw cute, it has the kids height on the walls but you notice there's a three foot difference in height between measurements, you check the date, they're a month apart. The final measurement is on the ceiling. It's dated two days ago.

You're part of a recovery team that have finally found a stranded ship, they were found too late and have all passed a long time ago. They all died of starvation. You enter their storeroom, it's filled with food. In the dining hall you find the tables laden with perfectly fine looking breads, cakes, cured meats, jams, candies. Your medic says all the people sitting at the table didn't eat a Thing.

You wake up in an apocalypse. You can't find anyone at all as you wander the streets but you do hear faint music playing from somewhere. You stumble into a supermarket, to see all the aisles still full, except for the shelf that was full of ear plugs, which look to be the only thing that was looted.

Like there's light, sound, props. Having a street where every house is decimated except for One. Landing on a planet known for having No Water and a plant is growing and you don't know where it could have possibly gotten moisture from but you can't find the citizens Anywhere.

I'm sorry, I'm just kinda over the "graffiti on the wall to show the bad guy is around". That's not environmental storytelling that's just normal story. Show me I'm in the villains territory by the rain suddenly cutting out above me as I'm driving, even though it's meant to be raining all night. I park the car and step out, and realise the constellations are Wrong, until I see they're Not constellations, they're the blinking lights of a massive ship-

I Will stop now because everytime I go to write a sentence it devolves into another prompt but I'm just saying we have a Lot of senses, engage them, show me the Environment in environmental storytelling.

[amazingdeadfish]

Greetings. I propose an... idea...?

The prompt list is free to everyone and it's open to interpretation! I'll be doing it from the 12-19th of September, but there's no actual set date for this or anything.

[nerdygirlramblings]

And now for something a little different, based off this prompt from @writing-prompt-s.

After five years of droughts which caused a famine that led to wars over resources, your people were desperate.

They had long ago lost the ability to read the ancient tomes. You only had a rudimentary understanding of them, but you were your people's only hope. You were confident in your translation, that there were four gods to be appeased: Jon, god of war and blood; Gaz, god of famine and abundance; Tav, god of fertility and the harvest; and the god of death, who bore no name.

Each required a slightly different sacrifice.

Jon needed blood, willingly spilled. Gaz required a mother's milk. Tav wanted human seed. And the god of death required a life.

You knew your people would baulk if you requested the things the gods needed, so you cloistered yourself in your home, set up an alter, and worked to gather what was required. An evening alone, touching yourself to thoughts of the village elder's middle son left you slick. You collected it in a brass bowl and hoped Tav would accept your "seed." The next day, your goat supplied a small basin of milk for Gaz, and you hoped he did not expect human mother's milk. Before you let fear override your senses, you sliced your palm, dripping the blood into a shallow dish for Jon.

Once everything was on the alter, you called out to the gods, offering what you had and vowing your life to the god of death if they would save your people. Outside, the wind picked up until it howled. You thought you heard it moan your name, but you pressed on, repeating the words from the tome you'd read, again offering your sacrifices and trading your life for that of your people.

On and on you called out the words to the gods until, hoarse and exhausted, you fell into a fitful sleep. You dreamed a battlefield where a man in warrior garments, covered in blood, wrapped an arm tightly around you, calling you his queen as his bearded face pressed bloodied kisses into your temple.

Then you were at a table groaning under the weight of dish after dish of succulent food while a beautiful brown-skinned man in a flowing tunic cradled you in his lap as he hand-fed you pieces of fruit, encouraging you lick the juice from his long fingers.

Next was a rolling field where a mostly-naked man, dressed in a strange kind of skirt, and with hair only running down the center of his head, laid you down among the stalks of wheat and sunk his cock into you.

Finally, you found yourself in the dark with a skeleton. It reached for you, and you went willingly to it, allowing it to embrace you, one hand wrapped loosely around your neck, but you did not feel fear.

When you woke, it was to the sound of rain on your roof. You looked at the alter and found all three offerings empty. Something had happened, yet you were here, despite offering your life for that of your people. You felt different, but didn't know how.

You searched for a looking glass, and that's when you saw it: Jon's mark near your hairline, where the bloodied warrior kissed you in your dream. You could also see the god of death's mark on your neck over where the blood beat under the skin. You couldn't see a mark from Gaz or Tav, but so much of you was covered. Stripping off your top, you saw Gaz's mark on your breast and Tav's over your womb.

Through the sound of rain and thunder, you thought you heard a series of laughs in different tones and timbres and a voice whispering, "We'll see you tonight, love. You'll have sweet dreams."

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[htaesan]

　ᅠ 📩　ᅠ EMAILS BETTER LEFT UNSENT part 1　　────　ᅠ ( park sunghoon )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your crush on your best friend of almost ten years is getting out of hand, and you feel like it’s time to give up𑁋especially after seeing how well your desk mate treats you.

　　　ᅠ 박성훈 & 심재윤 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 32k ⠀ genre fluff a bit of angst childhood best friends to lovers non idol au high school au ⠀ contains mentions of food sickness crying skinship pet names ocs and random characters ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ HELLO your fav fic is back and better!!! (i hope.) saurrrrr i know the word count is crazy and tumblr does not let me put that much words in one post.. so this will have to be in two parts >< (i am so sorry) thank you to soph for proofreading this for me!! i hope it wasn't too much babes ㅠㅠ and enjoy reading my debut enhypen fic on my new blog ^_^

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

THE December afternoon unraveled like a quiet, fluffy blanket over the landscape. The sky was coloured a soft gray, thick with clouds as it waits for the evening to set. A chilly breeze blows through the skeleton of trees, their leaves long gone. The air was biting against your exposed skin, each breath forming clouds swirling through the atmosphere. 

Nevertheless, you walked through the midst of winter, unbothered by the stinging cold that’s making the tip of your nose red. Munching through a steaming bungeo-ppang in your hands, you skipped jollily through the neighbourhood, happy that you finally didn’t have to spend money on snacks that week. Your brother, Heeseung, had lost a bet against you, and he had to pay for your afternoon snacks for a week. 

As you approached the road your house was located at, you spotted a boy seemingly your age. He was wearing a black puffy winter coat, a pair of ice skates dangling from his hand. His shoulders hunched up and down, quietly sobbing outside the house. 

You heard that scene immediately—why would a boy, who seemed like he was also seven years old like you—cry outside alone? 

Taking a bite out of your bungeo-ppang, you approached him. He heard the rustling of your footsteps against the snowy pavement, and immediately brought his head up. He hastily wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, though he couldn’t hide the fact that he was still crying. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, pushing aside the half-chewed contents of your mouth to one side of your cheeks. 

The boy pressed his lips together. He remained stoic for a while. “It’s not your business.”

You frowned. “But you’re crying—and alone too! Do you know,” you paused, swallowing the bite, “how cold it is right now? You could freeze to death!”

Your mother had always taught you to be kind and compassionate, and it didn’t quite stick with you to let him sob there alone in the cold. 

The boy didn’t reply, and he remained staring at you, tears sticking to his face. 

“You know what? Here,” you said, reaching for the extra bungeo-ppang that you bought. You handed it to him. “I hope that cheers you up and keeps you warm!”

The boy held the bungeo-ppang in his hands, mortified. Did this girl, cheeks and nose red from the cold, hand him a warm treat just because he was crying? He didn’t even know you, and you certainly didn’t know him. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly—a little too quiet that you barely caught it.

You flashed him a smile—one that he could never forget. 

“Come on, eat it,” you urged, taking a bite of your own bungeo-ppang. You chewed on your bite slowly, hoping that your action helped prompt the boy in front of you to do the same. 

You took a seat on the steps next to him, watching closely as he slowly unwrapped the bungeo-ppang. Your lips began to form a wide smile, the cold air nipping at your cheeks as they rose up. You watch him take a hesitant bite of the bungeo-ppang you had shoved into his hands, a flourishing feeling of thrill in your chest. As he began chewing, his sniffles began to fade away, and the tension in his shoulders slowly disappeared. 

“See?” you said, grinning. “Bungeo-ppang makes everything better!” 

Sunghoon didn’t answer right away, letting his eyes dart between the bungeo-ppang in his hands and you, who’s beaming brightly. His tongue remained silent for a while. He slowly chewed on his bite, letting the sweetness of the red bean paste melt on his tongue before finally setting his gaze firm to you. The frown that he had on for the entire day began to waver without him realising. Then, just barely—he smiled. 

It was funny but endearing at the same time—how you, a cute little girl with cheeks puffed out, filled with food—was attempting to cheer him up, not even knowing why he was upset in the first place. 

You smiled back, not aware that your smile caused a feeling that swept through the boy like a gush of fresh air. 

“I’ll get going then!” you said. You gave him a wave of goodbye as cheerful as your smile, then you walked away, not knowing that you would see the crying boy again.

Except that he’s not crying the next time you meet him. 

You were walking through the school hallways, rushing to get back to your homeroom after grabbing your colouring book from your locker. Too busy minding how fast you could get to class without sweating too much, you bump into a boy that looks too familiar for you to just shrug off and say sorry.

“You–!” you exclaimed, almost dropping the colouring book in your hands. The same boy that you saw crying alone outside of a house was now standing in front of you, a calm expression painted neatly across his face. 

Your eyes darted towards the name tag pinned on the boy’s right chest. 

Park Sunghoon. 

“Yeah?” he answered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I know you! You’re the boy who was crying–” 

Before you could finish blurting out the rest of your sentence, Sunghoon extended his hands, clasping them over your mouth to shut you up. He frowned, and under his slightly overgrown hair, you could see the tips of his ears turning red. 

“Yes,” he grunted, forcing a smile. “I’m the same person.”

You stood there, starstruck as you waited for him to remove his hands. Once he did, a huge smile was revealed on your face. 

“You go to the same school as me—this is so cool.” Your eyes sparkled with wonder. 

“Well,” Sunghoon sighed, nodding. “Yes, I do.”

You giggled, feeling like you’re jumping over the moon. You don’t know why, but ever since the day you gave him a warm snack, you couldn’t forget it. You would remember that moment for years to no end. 

The moment you made Sunghoon smile for the first time. 

Something moved in your heart—and it’s as if Sunghoon traded you his friendship in exchange for making him smile that winter afternoon. 

Over the years, it was evident that reserved Sunghoon made room in his heart, in his life, for you. Your worlds expanded—from chasing each other at the playground during recess into racing each other during high school sports day, from yelling at each other about the silliest things into late-night debates about life, and from staying up late to secretly eat snacks under the table to staying up late to study together. 

All of a sudden, it’s been ten years. 

Many things changed for sure, and one thing that was significant is that the boy who you once found crying in the cold had transformed into a handsome youngster. 

But through all the ups and downs, one thing remained the same. 

Sunghoon always smiled at you. 

Or at least, most of the time. 

He is still unpredictable, too.

And somehow—tucked neatly into all the times of teasing, him calling you “princess” more often than he calls you your own name, his lingering touches, and the way he always saves you the last bite of his food—you found your heart constantly betraying you.

“PARK Sunghoon, if you don’t get up right now, I swear I’m going to smack your head with this hockey stick.”

You stand at the edge of his bed, already fully dressed and ready for school. You hit your head lightly with Sunghoon’s hockey stick in one hand, trying to calm yourself down. 

A few minutes ago, his mother had let you in, feeling sorry about how you had already waited fifteen minutes outside, in the freezing cold. Your irritation from the wait only spiraled when Sunghoon’s mother told you that his son hasn’t woken up despite her many attempts to try and awaken him, and you should try waking him instead. 

You don’t mind doing that at all, but the fact that you have reminded him so many times to sleep early for the first day of school, and the audacity he has to not do as promised makes you even more agitated than you should be. 

You have always walked to school with Sunghoon—you had given up trying to catch up with Heeseung and his friends, and now that he’s in college, you have no one to accompany you. Except for your best friend, who’s making you feel like giving up on asking him to walk you to school too. 

You cross your arms, glaring at the lump under the blankets. It’s the first day of senior year, and you’re stuck with trying to get you and your best friend on time at the gates. 

“Five more minutes,” comes his muffled groan. 

“Did you stay up playing games again?” you nag. And in a more stern tone, you continue. “I’m leaving without you, Park Sunghoon.”

“Five more minutes,” he whines from under the covers. 

You make an annoyed sound—imitating the one that your mother often makes when she’s displeased. You drop the hockey stick to the ground with a loud thud, promptly yanking his blankets away. “Nope. Park Sunghoon, we are not doing this again.”

You choke on the remainder of your words, the rest of your blazing irritation dissolving into the air. The blanket had slipped from your hand, revealing a very shirtless, sleep-tousled Sunghoon. His hair is a complete mess, and his toned arms become more apparent as he stretches them.

Your eyes widen, and you immediately look away. But the damage is done, and you’re in an obvious red mess. Your heart had already reacted. 

God, please help me. Not this again. 

“Is it really necessary for you to be like this in the morning?” you mutter, huffily grumbling—more to the fact that the boy you’ve been liking since middle school is shirtless in front of you, than the fact that he’s only got ten minutes to get ready for school.

“Like what?” Sunghoon asks, smirking. He gets up, sitting at the edge of his bed as he ruffles his tousled hair. 

“Like a menace.”

“Woah,” Sunghoon chuckles. “You wound me, princess.”

You turn sharply to him, ignoring the obvious pink spread across your cheeks, and you give him a glare. “Go get ready before I leave you.”

“Okay, fine,” Sunghoon laughs as he grabs his towel and bolts towards the bathroom, leaving you steaming at the corner of his bedroom. “Wait for me!”

And as he shuts the bathroom door close, you know. Another year of this. Another year of pretending that you totally don’t fancy your best friend. 

YOU walk towards the school grounds, almost running to reach past the gates before the clock strikes 8. Sunghoon walks leisurely behind you, his hands shoved into his pocket. He wears a small grin on his face, eyes trained on you as you jog towards your group of girl friends. 

“Y/N!” Jennie exclaims, pulling you into a hug. “I thought you’d never make it. It’s already seven forty!”

“Yeah, you’d always come earlier than all of us, even in freshman year,” Naeun nods, casually sipping her carton of milk. “What’s up today?”

“The usual,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. You gesture to Sunghoon, who’s approaching you. “See that loser over there? He woke up at seven fifteen! And guess who had to physically yank him out of bed?”

Jennie makes a disgusted look. “My goodness… and we’re seniors already.”

You laugh, shrugging. “Exactly my point.”

“I sometimes don’t understand how you even cope with him,” Naeun shakes her head. 

“Love makes everything beautiful,” Jennie giggles, elbowing you. Looking into her eyes, you know that she’s joking—and the ‘love’ she’s referring to is merely platonic—but you can’t help but feel a little unsettling. 

Does she know?

After Sunghoon catches up with you, you then walk to the school gymnasium to attend the assembly with your friends. You walk side by side with your girls, arms intertwined as you chat mindlessly over the things you did over the summer holidays. 

The seniors are seated at the most back of the gym, and you’re somehow ecstatic that you finally get to sit on the ‘honorary’ benches. It feels great in some way, but it’s also telling you that you’re a senior now—you’re a role model, and everyone looks up to you. 

Sunghoon takes his seat next to you, as per usual, adjusting his tie as he gets himself comfortable on the bench. You settle yourself down, your girlfriends to your right. 

You’re starting to take in your surroundings, to process the fact that you’re finally a senior—and you have about seven months left of school; until you feel a smooth cold surface press against your cheek. You turn to the source at once, finding it to be Jake, holding a refrigerated can of Milkis in your direction. 

“Jake!” you exclaim, unsure if you should take the beverage that’s obviously for you. 

“Hi,” Jake grins. “I told you to call me Jaeyun—and here,” he leans forward, gently pressing the can of Milkis into your hand, “this is for you.”

You stare at the can in your hand. “Thank you?” 

“Of course,” Jake winks, and before he can let the rest of his words reach you, Sunghoon acts swiftly. 

Sunghoon straightens his posture, completely blocking Jake. He grabs the can of Milkis from your hands, and he opens it with a quick and loud hiss. 

It all happens too quickly, and you aren’t able to even register anything. 

“Here,” he says in a plain tone, accompanied with a gaze as firm as his words. “Drink up.”

You grab the can from him, slightly turning away from two of them. You bring the drink to your mouth, feeling the uneasy energy emitting from the two boys. 

YOU close your bedroom door behind you, sighing the day’s weight away. You drop your bag beside your study desk, heavy with all the books you carry throughout the day, and immediately launch yourself to your bed. You don’t care that it’s late into the evening and you’re still in your school uniform—complete from the blazer to the ribbon around your collar—all you need is the comfort of your bed. 

Your head is spinning. 

You had hoped, desperately, for a year free from all the complicated feelings swirling around in your heart. You know that it’d distract you, causing you to have to work harder than you already are. You know that it’s dangerous and hopeless—why would Sunghoon like you back? 

You are nothing but his childhood best friend. 

You toss your body to the other side, feet dangling off the bed. 

But what about all the butterflies that flutter in your stomach, threatening to make you burst, everytime Sunghoon is near you?

It’s the first day of school, and your heart is already reacting with a great deal of joy. Your mind replays the little moments you had with Sunghoon today—subtle but enough to remind you of your not so little crush on your best friend.

Him fixing your hair and tying it back after hearing you grunt about your hair getting in the way of your lunch about two times. 

Him holding your bag up the entire walk back home. 

Him chuckling softly at you, the snow falling in slow motion around him, as he listens to you yap about the school’s new Physics tutor. 

Him throwing his scarf to you, in a very unromantic way that you found so sweet, telling you huffily to remember to bring a thicker scarf next time. 

That same scarf is still wrapped around your neck, the thick fabric comforting, his scent familiar. 

You immediately sit up straight, harrumphing as you pull the scarf away. 

I can’t do this.

Not bothering to even shrug your blazer off, you scramble to your desk, turning your laptop on. Your heart beating fast and your head feeling hot, you feel the extreme urge to let it all out. 

You know you have to. 

Five years of harbouring secret feelings for your best friend—feelings that you can’t ever bring yourself to tell him—is burdening. 

You long into your email account, clicking the ‘compose’ button with the determined resolve of a seventeen year old. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if this will clog up your inbox, but I heard from Jay that you don’t really use this email address anymore. So I’m going to send everything here.  I hope these emails will never, ever find you. Sent 22:45 PM. 1st March. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  Today is our last first day of school. Ever. It’s insane, isn’t it? I’ve known you ever since we started school, which was nine, almost ten years ago. Absurd, is it not?  I remember vividly how we met. Or, more correctly, how our friendship started.  It was a cold December evening. I remembered walking home from the convenience store, carrying a plastic bag of bungeo-ppang, my favourite winter snack ever. I thought about how foolish I looked—a small and petite seven-year-old kid munching on her snacks in the thick of winter—but how could I resist, risking eating them cold when I reached home? My older brother, Heeseung, lost a bet against me and he said he’d buy me anything I wanted from the convenience store.  And, of course, as a seven year-old, I chose to buy a ton of my favourite snacks. Anyway, as I was waddling home, I saw you. Sitting outside of what I didn’t know back then was your house. Your face was wet with tears, the tip of your ears red from the cold. I remember specifically the moment—I cheerfully said ‘hi’, pouted when you didn’t answer and simply stared deep into my eyes. I then handed you a bungeo-ppang—the one with the red bean paste inside, my favourite one—to help brighten the grim look upon your face.  And, of course, I remember so vividly, the smile that lit up your cute face.  I didn’t even ask what went wrong. I don’t know why—maybe it was the instincts of a first grader. It’s as if the universe was telling me that the only thing you yearned for at that moment was something to simply rejoice your mood.  For the first time, Sunghoon, I felt warm on a winter day.  Sent 23:09 PM. 1st March. 

After pressing send, you lean back into your chair, some kind of relief washing through you. You read over the words you typed, a piece of your pent up feelings for Sunghoon poured out into the screen. Your affections are safe here, expressed in the ways you’ve always wanted to, but you won’t ever have to ruin your lifelong friendship with him. 

You smile to yourself, getting up from your desk. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  Thank you for the chocolate moist cake, by the way! It’s really good—I love your mom’s cooking.  Okay, before you scold me—yes, I’m going to go and get ready! You’re coming at 16:30, so technically I still have around 30 minutes to pick out an outfit—and it’s not like we’re going on a date. We’re going to a cafe to study.  Why am I even thinking of going on a date with you? Sent 16:07 PM. 14th March.

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  Why are you so good-looking?  Oh and I want to thank Jaeyun for playing basketball in class and accidentally throwing the ball at my face—now I get to see you up close.  Since when are you so… handsome, Hoon? Thanks for saving me. I would’ve hit the floor and cracked my skull if it wasn’t for you.  Sent 17:01 PM. 19th March.

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon, I’m sure you know this by now, but hoco’s in around a week. Do you have anyone to go with?  Gosh, I feel so pathetic. I’m sitting in my room, like a complete idiot, typing away emails that convey my feelings. Emails, Hoon, that the person I like will most likely never read.  I mean, I could’ve written letters… or confessed in person… or text you about this. But, yeah, instead of all the other brilliant options I should’ve done, I’m sending emails to an unused email address instead of confessing directly to the person I like. Funny, ‘cause the person I’m referring to—the person I like—it’s you. There’s a 99% chance you’ll never read these, since the email address I’m sending this to is your old one, the one you used in middle school—with a username that you now think is super weird.  Again, do you have anyone to go with to hoco? I’m asking, ‘cause if you don’t, I’m here. I’ll go with you. Actually, scrap that. I want to go with you. Sent 6:00 AM, 1st April. 

At the study session after lunch that day, you find yourself sitting at your desk, flipping through your textbook as you try your best to direct your focus to its contents. You spin the pen in your right hand absentmindedly, your brain already fried after only a few weeks of school. 

“I swear, I think my brain is short-circuiting.”

Jake, who’s sitting next to you studying his own subjects, turns towards you.  He smirks. “Maybe you just need a good tutor? Or someone to accompany you to the cafeteria right now—either of those choices, I volunteer.”

Sunghoon, whose seat is in front of yours, perks up from his notes. He glances at you, but doesn’t say anything. 

You roll your eyes, laughing. “I’ll pass. You’re trying to catch me off guard, aren’t you? Planning to make me pass out in a food coma.”

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Sunghoon, Mom just asked if I got a date for homecoming. What should I say? I mean, it’s not like I don’t have any potential candidates—Jaeyun’s been hinting to go with me for a while. Poor him, honestly. I keep on ignoring him… Also, Naeun told me that Huening Kai from 12-2 is planning to ask me if I want to go to homecoming with him tomorrow.  Well, if you’re asking me, I could go with Jaeyun or Kai. It doesn’t really matter—Jaeyun’s really nice, he treats me well. He plays basketball too, and I’m sure he’ll show up with flowers or something (that’s what Jennie, his twin sister, said). Kai seems okay, too, I’ve heard rumours about him being ridiculously handsome if he wants to. I’m not entirely sure what that means. But, deep inside my heart, I know just perfectly who I want to go with.  You.  Just… you. Sent 13:43 PM, 1st April. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon! 30 minutes ago, I saw Heeseung come home with purple flowers and a bunch of chocolate. Something clicked inside my head as I knew something was up—something related to my friend, Jennie Sim, as her favourite colour is purple and she LOVES chocolate. Okay, anyway, I rushed downstairs to ask him what that was all about.  And guess what? Heeseung’s planning to ask her to homecoming!  I’m kicking my feet in the air as I’m writing this.  Though, you know, I wish I had someone like my brother. I mean, someone who’s going to love me like I’m the only woman in his mind. Like I’m the only one that matters, and that he loves me with his entire existence.  Don’t ask me why I wish for that someone to be you.  It’s weird. It’s bad. I’m not supposed to like my own best friend.  Sent 17:55 PM, 1st April. 

IT’S the next day, and you’re dreading every single step towards school. Today, Sunghoon is not walking you to school—you’re not too disappointed, as you needed some time away from him. 

It’s ridiculous—you know you shouldn’t even be upset. You and Sunghoon are just friends. Nothing more. 

“Y/N!” 

You turn around, curious to see Jake running towards you from the school gate. Jake is your desk mate, and your best friend’s twin brother—so the two of you had been quite close ever since Jennie and Jake’s family moved next door. 

You wait for him patiently, and unsurprisingly, he barely takes a few seconds to catch up to you. 

“Hey,” he greets you tenderly, slightly out of breath. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you smile. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” the brunette replies, offering you the goofiest smile you’ve ever seen. “Just wanted to walk with you. Also, Y/N, I swear, you get prettier every time I see you. What are you trying to do—trying to make me fall harder for you?”

You choke on thin air, eyes bulging as you try to form a response.

Jake grins, but then he looks around, looking for someone. Without missing a beat, he asks. “Where’s Sunghoon?”

“He’s probably on his way, still,” you answer, glancing at the time on your smartphone, a little glad Jake changed the topic. 

7:15 AM.

“Sunghoon should arrive soon. He usually comes to school exactly at twenty past seven,” you continue. “I honestly have no idea why. He wants to come to school earlier than half past seven, but not earlier than quarter past seven.”

Jake chuckles at your little rant about Sunghoon. “He’s one attentive person, I guess.”

“Surely,” you nod, mentally slapping yourself for smiling about such a small talk about Sunghoon. 

“Come on, let’s walk to class,” Jake says, “we’ll wait for Sunghoon there—do you want any drinks? You know, like coffee or tea. Strawberry milk, maybe?” 

You begin walking with Jake, footsteps in sync, to your homeroom. “Drinks? This early in the morning?”

“You look like you haven’t eaten anything for breakfast,” Jake replies. He grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the cafeteria—straying away from the path to your homeroom. His eyes quickly scan for any snacks or lightweight meals he could buy for you. 

“Jae,” you say, purposely using a nickname you never use (and probably will never do again) to grab his attention. “You don’t have to buy me anything, you know.”

Jake, who’s deep in engagement with the cashier, perks up at the nickname. He turns around and gives you a grin, “yeah, I know I don’t have to. I just want to.”

“Here,” he hands you a kimbap and a box of mango yoghurt drink, the silly grin still on his face. That grin you always see Jake offer you. “Eat up.”

“Thanks,” you reply with a smile, marvelling at how delicious the kimbap in your hand looks. 

7:35 AM.

“Hoon!” you exclaim, jumping out of your seat so abruptly it startles Jake—who’s reading a comic book next to you. You race towards your best friend at the door. Sunghoon, despite his usual nonchalant demeanour, gives you a small and brief smile.

“Hi,” he utters in his customary tone—deep and quiet. “You’re early.”

“Not really,” you reply with a bubbly smile. 

“Have you eaten breakfast?” you ask as the two of you walk to your desks. 

“I have—have you?”

You shrug. “Yeah, kinda—Jake bought me some.”

Sunghoon’s smile falls, but you’re too busy rambling to notice.

“You’re 5 minutes late, by the way.”

Sunghoon lets out a chuckle, his face quickly hiding the slip up, “I forgot you assume that I can teleport from the school gates right to the front of the class.”

Your cheeks flush warm, “no! I’m just saying… you usually come at half past seven. Like, exactly. Did something happen?”

Sunghoon pulls his chair out of his desk and sits down. Smirking, he comments, “Y/N, are you my girlfriend or something? You sound like it.”

His words make both you and Jake choke on thin air. 

I wish, you think to yourself.

“Hoon!” you stammer, “what the hell?”

“Sorry,” he says in between gasps of silent, ‘Sunghoon’-type laughter. “Couldn’t defeat my intrusive thoughts.”

“So,” you begin, changing the topic of the conversation so flawlessly. It’s always been that way—nothing is ever really complicated with Sunghoon. You could talk about ten different topics in under five minutes; and he’d listen to it all. “Have you thought about who you’re bringing to homecoming?”

Homecoming. A topic that makes your stomach turn upside down—knowing that, given the current situation, you’d be going with Jake instead of Sunghoon. 

And as expected, the two boys seated around you look up. 

“Nope,” Sunghoon’s reply is simple. 

“You? The golden hockey player of Decelis, haven’t thought about who to bring to homecoming?” Jake exclaims, with a touch of drama. 

Sunghoon chuckles. “It’s just homecoming. I could bring anyone.”

You break his gaze, looking away.

That ‘anyone’ broke your heart just a little bit. If he could bring anyone, that possibly meant he wouldn’t bring you—there are many other girls, much prettier and livelier than you, that he could bring. 

“You, Y/N?” Jake asks, “who are you going with?”

“I don’t know,” you reply after some time. 

You watch as Sunghoon opens his mouth to speak, yet is fiercely cut off by Jake’s relaxed comment. 

“You know, you could always go with me,” he says with a careless smile, leaning back into his chair. 

Sunghoon stiffens while you awkwardly smile. This was the first time Jake had directly brought it up—his requests and subtle hints of going to homecoming with you had always been through Jennie, contrasting with the way he’s always so obvious with his interest in you. “Actually, I’m probably not going to homecoming.”

“Why?” Jake asks. 

“Um…”

To be frank, despite being active in clubs, and being seemingly social, you dislike big social events. Especially the likes of homecoming or prom. There’s something about large crowds that makes you feel slightly out of place, and the fact that you’re surrounded by couples… just makes you a little sappy.

“Y/N doesn’t really like those kinds of events,” replies Sunghoon, his gaze directed to Jake a little too sharp than you’d like. 

“Hoon,” you lament, nudging him with your elbow. 

“If you’re asking her out,” Sunghoon continues, his nonchalant expression morphing onto his face, “you should know.”

“OI! Princess!” Sunghoon calls from behind you, oblivious of your widened eyes and accelerating heartbeat due to the nickname. 

You turn around and stop in your tracks, letting him catch up. “Yeah?”

He adjusts the placement of his varsity jacket—his pride, earned by qualifying into the school’s varsity hockey team—before he speaks. “Are you really not going to homecoming?”

You purse your lips before nodding. 

To you, there’s really no use of going to homecoming, not when the only person you’re truly interested in going with isn’t going. 

“Yeah, no. I’m not. Why?”

Sunghoon shoves his hands into his pockets. For a second, he looked really disappointed. But the look quickly dissolves, and he shrugs. “N-nothing, I was just curious.”

Embarrassed, you quickly nod. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” he gives you a smile, ruffling your hair. “Get back home safely. Text me when you’ve arrived home.”

“But you’ll be at practice–”

“It’s okay,” Sunghoon cuts you off, flashing you a soft, reassuring smile. One that makes your heart lap a million miles per hour. “I’ll read it anyway. They can’t get rid of me—I’m Decelis’ best bet at winning this season.”  

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon… What was that? That was weird. Really weird. I don’t like it.  Why did you ask me if I was really not going to hoco? Are you going to ask someone out, and not want them to think we’re friends?  I… you know, what? I’m not going to think about it anymore.  I don’t care.  Just… ask out anyone you want to. Even if it’s not me.  Even if it’s me. This possibility doesn’t quite make sense, as I don’t think you do see me the way I… see you. My saviour, the person who knows me best, the person I’ve developed feelings for.  You know what, Hoon? I’ll go with Jaeyun, if there are no signs of you asking me to go with you. By tomorrow. Sent 18:01 PM. 2nd April.

“HONESTLY, Y/N, I admire you,” Jennie says suddenly, causing you to almost spit out your lunch. 

You’re sitting at the usual spot you usually do with your girlfriends—Jennie and Naeun—people-watching as each of you devour your lunches. Jennie sits in front of you while Naeun sits on your left side. Jennie, as usual, has her lunch of various goodies from the convenience store; and Naeun, like you, sticks to what the school cafeteria serves. “What? Why?”

“I admire the way you don’t even care if you have a hoco date,” she continues. 

“Oh, God,” you exhale shakily. “Jen, you scared me! And yes, I don’t care. If I don’t have a date, then I don’t have to go.” 

Lie. 

Kind of.

Actually, a very small part of you wanted to go to homecoming—just for the experience. Besides, you’re a senior now, and you won’t get to experience any of this after graduation. But again, you’re reminded by the fact that you do not have a date, or at least, the person that you want to go to isn’t your date. 

“Why do you not want to go?” Naeun, from your left, asks. She gulps down the last bit of her strawberry milkshake before continuing. “I mean, I know you’re the top student, and you don’t party ‘cause all you do is shove your nose into a book and study. But, Y/N, it’s your last homecoming.”

You dramatically groan, “you girls know why I hate hoco. Looking at all the couples around me makes me wanna barf.”

Naeun and Jennie burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs. Amused, you grin along.

“Well, I can’t relate anymore,” Jennie giggles. “I’ve got–”

Naeun hits Jennie’s head lightly with her fork. “Okay, girl, we get it,” she turns to you, flipping hair off her shoulders. “Y/N, honestly, how does it feel when your best friend’s dating your brother?”

“We’re not dating!” Jennie shrieks. Naeun rolls her eyes.

You laugh, “honestly, it is kind of weird hearing someone talk so… fondly, I might say, of Hee oppa. Frankly, Jen, Hee oppa is not who you think he is.”

“He’s amazing,” gushes Jennie. One look at her face, and an exchanged glance between you and Naeun, was enough to tell that Jennie’s completely smitten. 

“For now,” Naeun quickly adds. “Though, if he starts treating you like trash, or making you shed a sad tear, I won’t hesitate to burn his house down.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, despite agreeing with Naeun. Your brother or not, you’d destroy his life if he made your best friend sad. “Where am I going to live if you burn our house down?”

“Sucks to be Heeseung’s sister, huh?” Naeun jests. 

“You can live with me,” Jennie adds on to the joke, “Jaeyun’s going to be delighted to have you live with us.”

“Mhm, remind me, are you finally going to go to hoco with Jake?” Naeun asks. 

“Yeah, are you?” Jennie urges. “I swear, it is so annoying hearing him talk about you. It’s weird—aren’t you guys friends?”

You shove another dumpling into your mouth. “Yeah, we are friends… and yeah, it is weird, now that you say it.”

“Reject him if you don’t want to,” Naeun suggests. “Pity him. He’s been on your tail for like God knows how long, trying to get you as his homecoming date. And more.”

“He’s liked you for quite some time,” Jennie says softly. “Well, trust me, it’s weird hearing him talk about you, my best friend, in that way—but I do want you to decide quickly. If you don’t want to go with him, just say so.”

You stay silent, processing the obvious variety in Jennie’s words. 

“This is for your own good, Y/N,” she adds, “and my twin brother’s own good, too.”

“I’m not sure what to do,” you finally say. “I… don’t want to risk losing a friend by rejecting him.”

Honestly, that’s how you feel with Sunghoon, too. Your friendship, strong and unbreakable for almost a decade, was the sole reason you’re afraid to confess your true feelings to him. 

On the other hand, however, you feel extremely weirded out by Jake. You started befriending him in early sophomore year, when he was first assigned as your deskmate. You remember him being as bubbly and friendly as he is now, and you’re sure that the two of you became friends because of his benevolent attitude.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Jennie pats your shoulder. “I know him best to assure you that he’s not the type to break off a friendship just because his feelings aren’t reciprocated.”

Now, you feel a little less bad to tell Jaeyun (or Jake, to most people) that you’re going to go as his date only if Sunghoon’s not asking you too.

“SO, how was practice?” you ask Sunghoon, slightly smiling at how the thunk of your footsteps coincide.

Sunghoon tilts his head for a moment, trying to form his words. He then looks at you before replying, “yeah, it was okay. Nothing really interesting.”

“What about that newbie—what’s his name again?” you ask, recalling about Sunghoon telling you that they were having a few new players.

“Riki? The freshie?”

“Yeah!” you nod, “that one!”

“He’s okay,” replies Sunghoon, “he’s good, actually, for a freshman. I heard he played in middle school, so I guess that’s where the skills come from.”

You nod again, and comfortable silence engulfs the two of you. The crunch of autumn leaves beneath your steps and the gentle breeze creates a fulfilling ambiance. 

“What about you?” he asks, after a few moments of silence—of you basking in his presence, enjoying the present of walking home with him. “I can’t imagine how hard it is to balance being our batch’s top scorer and orchestra at the same time.”

You chuckle. It had been hard on a few occasions; for example, if you had an orchestra concert to practise for, and around the same had tests to study for. But, generally, it’s quite simple. “Violin’s just a hobby of mine. I’m glad I have an orchestra club as a way to practise it.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Don’t ever come to me and complain about it, then, if it’s ‘just a hobby’.”

You laugh, stealing a glance at Sunghoon. And, as always, it hits you. 

You dislike, probably just a little bit, how carefree and easy you become when you’re with Sunghoon; how he makes everything feel so simple; how he makes life less tiring, and how he makes you feel that you’re worth befriending. 

He’s so handsome it hurts—his fair complexion looks soft and well taken care of, his nose bridge is sharp, his smile stunning yet delicate. 

“We’re here,” Sunghoon says, pushing you out of your train of thought. You stand, with him,  in front of your house. The smell of kimchi soup begins to attack your sensory buds. “Oh, that smells good…”

“I think mom’s making dinner already,” you point out. “Do you wanna stay over? I can go and ask.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, smiling lightly. “No, it’s okay. As much as I want to devour every last drop of your mom’s cooking, I have to get home. My mom’s bringing us to visit grandma, so I shouldn’t miss it.”

You mirror his smile. “Okay. Get home safely.”

Sunghoon nods, and after a few steps away, he turns around and waves. He smiles—the usual, soft and gentle grin he always offers you, yet… something just feels different. He lingers around longer than you expect him to, before finally turning on his heel and walking home. 

You watch him walk away, and it’s like a scene in melodramatic dramas: he strolls leisurely home, your eyes follow him from behind as golden brown leaves sway down from the trees. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Park Sunghoon, It’s Thursday now. Um, yeah, I know I shouldn’t be sleeping this late, but I just finished watching 20th Century Girl, and I took, like, 15 minutes to calm myself down from all the tears, hehe.  Are you… going to ask me to go to homecoming with you?  It’s getting more and more hopeless as every minute passes by. In 7 hours, I’m going to go to class and say yes to Jaeyun, you know?  I hate it. I hate how I’m hoping you would stop me from saying yes to Jaeyun. I hate how I’m desperately wishing you’re preparing something to ask me to homecoming.  You know, what? Forget it. I’m going with Jaeyun. Sent 00:10 AM, 3rd April. 

“Y/N, you okay?” Heeseung asks, making you look up from your half-eaten bowl of a concoction of rice, soup, kimchi, bean sprouts and seaweed. He sips on his tea, eyes trained sharply on you. 

“Yeah, I am,” you reply, feeling a little guilty. You weren’t entirely lying, but it’d be such a fabrication if you told yourself you weren’t feeling down at all. “Why?”

“Did you sleep late? Or did you get dumped?”

“Oppa!” you exclaim, “when did I ever get a boyfriend?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that you’re always sticking around with Sunghoon. People think you’re his girlfriend, so no one’s asking you out,” Heeseung snorts. 

Your eyes slightly widen. Heeseung sounds sarcastic, but you uncover some truth behind his words. “Wait—people actually think like that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Heeseung replies, rolling his eyes. He swallows his bite before continuing, “everyone thinks you’re Sunghoon’s, you know?”

“People think so?”

“Girl, the two of you act like a literal couple. You hold hands, kiss cheeks and call each other nicknames like it’s nothing. I mean, those who know you guys are friends know that it’s platonic, but–”

“Then, why isn’t he doing anything about it?” you snap, crossing your arms. Your sudden outburst shocks everyone in the room—even Heeseung stops eating. 

“Y/N-ie, you alright, sweetie?” your mom asks from the kitchen. 

“I’ll be fine,” you reply. “Heeseung oppa is bothering me!”

“What are you saying, idiot?” Heeseung hisses. “I’m not bothering you, just tell me whatever is bugging you!” 

“I’m upset,” you declare truthfully. “I want to go to hoco with Sunghoon. But he’s not asking me or anything,” you whine, dragging out each word in a dramatically exaggerated manner.

Heeseung snorts, “if you want to go with him, just tell him? It’s not that hard.”

“It is hard! Oppa, imagine telling your childhood best friend: ‘oh, I like you. Can we go to homecoming together?’. That kind of thing completely ruins a friendship! Imagine if he doesn’t like you back? How would you feel?” 

Heeseung leans back into his seat, smirking smugly. “I don’t have any girl best friends, so I wouldn’t know.”

“YAH!” you yell, smacking your brother’s head with your spoon. He laughs, clutching his stomach as you sit back down, pouting. “I’m upset and all you’re doing is laugh at my face.”

“Hey, I’m just joking around,” Heeseung reassured, “I get how you feel—even though I kinda don’t.”

Your brother laughs as you huff. 

“I think you should go and confront him about it,” Heeseung suggests, going back to devouring his breakfast. “I’m honestly surprised you told me that so straightforwardly, but I guess that’s the result of me sacrificing my ego to get close to you when we were kids.”

You kick his leg under the table, annoyed by the way he’s laughing as you do so. “Shut up. Don’t make me regret having you as my brother.”

“SEE you after school, Y/N-ie,” Heeseung says as you exit the car. He waves to you before driving off. You then make your way towards the entrance gate, only to be greeted by an obviously excited and jumpy Jennie. 

“Y/N!” Jennie waves, all smiles. “Come on!”

You jog up to her, who’s standing at your school gate. “Hi. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she replies, but you know her a little too well to accept that as an answer.

“Oh, you think I’m stupid, don’t you?” you elbow her, “you’re a bit too smiley at quarter past seven. Something’s definitely up.”

Jennie giggles, “I’m sorry, I forgot you’ve been my friend since middle school. Now I kind of resent myself for picking Decelis Academy as my study abroad option in 8th grade.”

You hit her shoulder, laughing in synchronisation. “Anyway, Jen, tell me what’s going on. Is Heeseung coming to pick you up after school today or what?”

“Nah, I am,” Jake’s voice coming from your left startles you, making you lose your balance. Yet, Jake is quick to grab your arm, stabilising you. 

You turn towards the source of the voice, expecting him to be standing at a reasonable distance beside you. But, oh boy, the goosebumps you get from seeing his face merely inches away from yours…

“Oh?”

Jake smiles. “I’m sorry for startling you,” he says, letting go of your arm gently. “What were we talking about again?”

“Yah, Jaeyun,” Jennie interrupts, smacking her twin brother’s head. “Don’t go around and scare people by whispering right in their ear. It’s creepy, you know?”

Jake laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Anyway, you’re picking Jen up today? What does that mean?” you ask. “Don’t you guys, like, cycle home everyday? Together?”

“Yeah, we do,” Jennie replies, “but today he’s bringing me and you dress-shopping.”

“Me?” you gasp.

“Yep,” Jake nods. “I-I mean, I suggested it to her. You know, since… um, my sister’s going to hoco with your brother, a-and she wants to go dress-shopping… I thought it’d be fitting to bring you too.”

“You can help me pick,” Jennie adds, smiling. 

“Sure,” you agree after some thought. After all, going shopping with Jennie is something you enjoy doing, and there’s nothing wrong with her twin brother accompanying the two of you. 

Except… that the said twin brother is most likely, according to the current situation, your hoco date. 

WALKING out of the chemistry lab, you drag your feet towards the cafeteria. There have been several periods and classes with Sunghoon, yet there hadn’t been any indication that he’d be asking you to go to homecoming with him. 

“So,” Jennie begins, as soon as you set down your tray. She waits for you to sit down before uttering, “are you going to homecoming?”

“I think so,” you say, shrugging. “I mean, I thought about it, and it’s my senior year. I should go to homecoming.”

Naeun and Jennie shriek happily. 

“Oh my God! My wish came true!” Jennie clasped her hands together. 

“We can finally take a trio polaroid together. Complete. As one,” Naeun says. 

“Gosh, stop over–”

“What wish?” you get interrupted, once again, by the one and only: Park Sunghoon. He nods to acknowledge Jennie and Naeun in front of you, before sitting down next to you. 

“Nothing,” you immediately reply. You shift awkwardly in your seat, uncomfortable by the way your cheeks are warming up. 

How on earth did you actually survive being Sunghoon’s best friend for almost 10 years whilst having a crush on him? 

Maybe having a crush on him for 5 years has taught you the skill of burying your feelings whenever he was around.

“I’ve known you for 10 years,” Sunghoon says. His left cheek bulges as he chews on his mouthful of cold noodles. “And if I learned a thing or two, it is to never trust you when you say ‘nothing’.”

“Exactly!” Naeun exclaims. “Sunghoon, you tell her to stop using the same excuse every time, it’s so obvious when she’s lying.”

“Oh, shut up, Nae.”

Sunghoon rips open the package of his chocolate bar and breaks it in half. “Here,” he places it on your tray. “You like cookies and cream.”

You bit your lip in hopes to suppress a smile. “Thanks,” you say coolly, taking a bite out of it. 

“Anyway,” Naeun grins, a glint of mischief in her eyes. You glare at her, already dreading what’s to come. “Got anyone to go to homecoming with, Park Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon leans back in his chair, stealing a glance at you. “No. I don’t want to go.”

You almost spit out the contents of your mouth at his blunt statement. “What? Why?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I’ve got no one to go with?” 

“Well, you can go with me if you want to,” you murmur, afraid to raise your voice. 

“What?” Sunghoon tilts his head, eyes staring into yours. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing!” you quickly say, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I-I’m going though.”

It’s now Sunghoon’s turn to be confused. “Huh? I thought you weren’t going.”

“Yeah! I-I wasn’t going to… but Jaeyun asked me… to go with him,” you utter each word with complete caution, eyes going back and forth between Jennie and Sunghoon. “And I’m… going with him.”

The world pauses for a second, and you don’t realise you’re holding back a breath.

Jennie gasps, happiness causing her to beam. But at the same time, you couldn’t shrug off the pang in your heart when you witnessed, from the corner of your eyes, Sunghoon’s expression morph into something you’ve quite never seen before.

Was it jealousy? 

“Double date!” Jennie gushes, her eyes crinkling with laughter. “God, I’m so happy! I can finally go to homecoming with my best friend!”

You give Jennie a half smile. 

“...have you told him?” Sunghoon asks, somehow struggling to force the words out of his mouth. 

“Who?” you reply, turning to him. 

“Jake.” 

You purse your lips, then shake your head. “Nope. I’ll tell him after school, though.”

Sunghoon nods, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than it usually does. Then, he turns to his lunch and finishes it in silence, ignoring the conversation buzzing around him. 

AFTER the last lesson of the day ends, and the teacher walks out, you get ready with the books and stationery you need for studying.

“Let’s go?” Jake taps your shoulder, smiling widely as always. You perk up, a question popping in your head. Does he ever get tired of smiling?

Seeing him twinkle, you’re instantly reminded of the plan you made with the twins.

“Oh, okay!” you reply, quickly standing up to start packing up your bag. “Wait for me at Jennie’s homeroom.”

“Alright. I’ll see you there.” Jake nods, and struts out, which leaves you realising that it’s only you and the ridiculously good-looking boy sitting in front of you, Sunghoon, left in the homeroom. 

“Where did the others go?” you mutter to yourself, grunting at how your cheeks are starting to warm up. 

“Where are you going?” Sunghoon asks, his tone careful and slow. You look up, and he’s already staring at you, something in his gaze that you can’t pinpoint. 

You swing your bag over your shoulder. You give him an innocent smile. “I’m… going dress-shopping.”

“With Jake?” he asks. 

You nod slowly. 

“Y-yeah. And Jennie.”

“Have you told him you’re going to hoco with him?”  

You sigh. “No, I haven’t. I’m a bit embarrassed to… tell him.”

Silence floods the two of you. Though, this time, the silence was overwhelmingly uncomfortable. There was some kind of tension that hung between you and Sunghoon, and you know precisely what caused it.

“Hmm,” is all you get from your best friend after a few moments of awkwardness, that involves you standing straight near your desk, unable to move as you await his response. 

“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks, standing up from his chair. His height towers above you, and you gulp in nervousness. 

“No?” you say, “I don’t. Wait, I mean, I-I do. But I like him as a friend.”

“Like how you like me?”

Your eyes widen as if a nuclear bomb was dropped in front of your face. 

“L-like what?”

Sunghoon chuckles, ruffling your hair. “I’m joking, pumpkin.”

Memories flood your vision, goosebumps racing against your skin, upon hearing the childhood nickname; vivid like it happened yesterday. 

You clearly remember your six-year-old self, sitting at his house’s dining table with a seven-year-old Sunghoon. The two of you were having lunch together after his mom picked you two from preschool. 

You always had a strong dislike for pumpkin, and everyone around you knew that, but Sunghoon didn’t. 

So when his mother asked what the both of you wanted for lunch, Sunghoon had eagerly requested for the porridge—and you innocently agreed, not knowing that the porridge he ardently asked for was pumpkin porridge with rice balls. 

Sunghoon held his stomach, laughing loudly. “You look so funny, Y/N, it’s just pumpkin!”

“Shut up!” you yelled. “I just don’t like the taste!”

“Oh dear,” Sunghoon’s mother rushed to you. She picked up the bowl of pumpkin porridge in front of you. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t know—would you like something else?

“It’s okay, auntie!” you insisted on a small voice. “I’ll just eat the rice balls.”

Sunghoon laughed his soul out in the background, still finding your revolted expression upon eating the pumpkin porridge extremely funny. His mother shook her head, patting your head. 

“You sweet girl—it’s alright. I’ll cook you something else, okay? Do seafood pancakes sound delicious to you?”

You give her a big smile, nodding. “I’ll love that!”

And for the rest of that year, Sunghoon insisted that he called you pumpkin.

“Gosh,” you whisper shakily, “I haven’t heard that nickname in a while.” 

Sunghoon smiles—and it’s as if, in this entire universe, it’s only you and him. It’s an unexplainable feeling; it’s as if time had stopped, and everything else around you froze—and he’s the only one for you. 

“Hmm? I thought I’d call you pumpkin,” he jokes, “since, you know, your face looks as orange as the porridge that day.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, “it’s been so long! Don’t remind me of that!”

Sunghoon lets out a train of laughter—and it rushes through you like a refreshing breeze, reminding you of your never ending feelings for him, and how his laughter is one of the things you’d never get tired of hearing.

“Come on then,” he urges you to walk out of the class. “We have a dress to find.”

You follow his lead, your brows knitting with each other. “Huh?”

Sunghoon looks back at you for a second, smiling while he’s at it. 

“I’m coming with you to buy your hoco dress. I mean, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t get mad at you if you’re going out with me,” he says, as your legs freeze, unable to move. You’re dazed at Sunghoon’s presence. Everytime he smiles at you, you’re smitten—and it’s as if your entire body is in love too. 

“I’ll pick your dress for you if you don’t come! I’ll pick the most horrible one!” Sunghoon yells playfully from the corridor, causing you to jolt awake from your trance. “And I’ll tell Mrs. Lee, you’re going out without asking her first!”

“YAH!” you scream, swiftly dodging tables and running out of the classroom to catch up with Sunghoon. “Wait for me, Park Sunghoon!”

“HERE,” Jake hands you a cup of mango yakult boba, accompanied with a smile that you wish you didn’t notice was a little bitter. It must’ve been because Sunghoon’s here, standing beside you.

You sigh, recalling that Jennie had whispered about it to you when you were in the bus. 

“What?” you ask him. 

“Take it,” he insists. “It’s on me, so don’t worry.”

You nod thankfully before poking the straw into the cover of the drink to take a sip. Though, before your lips could even touch the tip of the straw, Sunghoon gets himself a big sip of your drink. Bewildered and stunned, all you could do is watch and let your lips form a twitchy smile as Sunghoon perks up from an angle slightly lower than your eye level.

You gulp, suddenly nervous at the close proximity. 

“This is good stuff,” he says with a grin. 

Your eyes shift quickly between Jake, who’s standing right in front of you, shock painted all over his facial expressions; and Sunghoon, who’s standing to your right, grinning like he’s just scored the winning goal for the inter school hockey competition.

“Hoon!” you smack his arm, “this is my drink—you didn’t even ask!”

Sunghoon keeps his grin on. “I mean, you wouldn’t even finish it,” he shrugs. “Plus, you prefer strawberry flavoured things over mango, right?”

You watch with guilt as Jake’s facial expressions morph into a shameful expression. He lets out an “oh”, and he looks away.

“It’s okay, Jaeyun,” you say, offering him a smile, which makes him rebuild eye contact. “It’s not that I don’t like mango. I do! Just that I prefer strawberries.”

Jake nods attentively. “Ah, okay. I’m sorry—I’ll remember that from now on.”

“Okay, guys! Enough of this awkwardness,” Jennie says out loud, looping her arm with yours. “We’ve only got a few hours to shop for Y/N and I’s dresses, so get your asses up and moving, boys.”

The four of you then walk through the mall, window shopping to find your dresses. Jennie, of course, is the most excited. She practically drags you and Jake around, Sunghoon tagging along. 

You naturally enjoy the experience of shopping with your girlfriend. It’s certainly a refresher—sipping on your boba drink as you browse through a wide selection of eye-catching dresses. Though, every time you look to steal a glance at Sunghoon, there’s this off-putting feeling that you can’t quite name—and the reason as to why is evident, displayed right in front of your eyes. 

Every time you make eye contact with Sunghoon, you notice a challenging aura blazing through. It’s as if he’s purposely making it hard for Jake; as if to dare him to prove that he’ll be a good date to you.

Honestly, you think to yourself, it’s just one night. It’s not like I’m dating Jake for real.

And you wonder too, why Sunghoon is making such a big deal out of it. 

Even though all of you are shopping for homecoming at the last minute, everything’s certainly going well.

“Heeseung’s going to bawl his eyes out when he sees you in this dress,” you say with a sparkle of melodrama. Jake chuckles, while Sunghoon simply nods disinterestedly, his eyes glued to his phone.

You marvel at how beautiful Jennie is—her beauty is enhanced with the purple dress she’s wearing. It’s exactly her vibe—a lilac baby doll dress with ruffles and puffed sleeves—soft and dainty. 

“Buy this one,” Jake says.

“Okay!” Jennie happily nods. “What about you, Y/N?”

You’ve tried on several types of dresses in many different colours—jade, champagne red, and light pink. Though, none of them thoroughly suited your taste.

“Jaeyun,” you say, causing the boy to perk up and look at you with slightly widened eyes—not expecting his name to be called. “What do you think?”

“M-me?” 

You smile and nod, ignoring Sunghoon’s piercing gaze. “Yeah, you.”

“I-I mean, I don’t know,” Jake stammers, “why are you buying a dress though? I thought you weren’t going to hoco.”

“Well…”

“You stupid idiot, she’s going with you!” you hear Jennie shout from inside the changing room. 

You don’t know why, but some feelings of delight wash through you as you watch Jake’s lips form a wide smile. He laughs, awkward and strained at first, like he doesn’t believe it’s true. Though, gradually, he gets up and pulls you into a hug. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs breathlessly into your shoulder as you pat his back. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jake pulls away from the hug, and for the first time, you see tears form at the edges of the basketball prodigy. 

And, for the first time too, you see Sunghoon looking away from you. 

“Jen!” you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down as much as possible. You and Jennie are in the changing room, the latter helping you to put on dresses. Out of all the dresses you tried—the light blue ball gown dress, the lavender mini dress with bow details, and many other bodycon and babydoll dresses—none caught your eye. 

Except for one. 

A simple midnight blue dress, adorned with pearl details and sparkly lace; one that Sunghoon picked out. At first, you weren’t sure if it’d suit you, but after trying it on, you were baffled by how you look. The dress fits you perfectly, highlighting exactly where it needs to be.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, pulling your hair out of your dress. 

Jennie nods, an adoring look on her face. “Girl, everyone will be smitten.”

Of course, you didn’t believe her at first—but the look on Sunghoon and Jake’s faces made you second guess yourself. 

Sunghoon’s eyes stop blinking, and his lips part slightly. Something feels stuck in his throat, and everything dawns on him. 

You look absolutely magical.

He can’t pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. You are his best friend, the person he feels most comfortable with. And now, it hits him like a truck. 

You’re breathtaking. 

To his left, Jake is completely blown away by your beauty. The edges of his mouth twitch, indecisive as to whether he should smile or not. His pupils widen as he takes in the view of you, realising that you really are more prettier than he thought you were. 

“So,” you finally say, pretending to not notice the two guys’ gazes on you. You smile at Jake, not forgetting to spare Sunghoon a glance. “How’s this?” 

You twirl in front of the mirror, examining how the dress hugs your frame. “I don’t know,” you murmur. “Does this look weird?”

Jake leans forward from his seat, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Weird? Y/N, if you show up to homecoming in that, I might have to fight people off for you.”

His direct response makes your eyes widen and a snort escaping your lips. Jennie, who’s standing next to her brother, merely grins. 

You swat at Jake. “Be serious, Jaeyun.” 

“I am,” Jake winks smoothly. “You look gorgeous.”

A wave of heat rushes up your cheeks—the way Jake looked directly in your eyes, the word gorgeous slipping out of his tongue like it’s easy for him to say. You look away, redirecting your gaze to Sunghoon, slightly overwhelmed by the way Jake’s smile seems to tell you that he means everything he said. 

Sunghoon, who had been sitting silently in the corner, shifts in his seat. He doesn’t say anything, but his jaw flexes. He simply looks at Jake, then at you, before looking away. 

You press your lips into a thin line. 

Something in Sunghoon’s behavior bothers you. 

You turn back to the mirror, smoothing the fabric of the dress with your hands. “Hoon,” you say, looking at him from the reflection of the mirror. “What do you think?”

His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and something unreadable flickers across his face. He holds his gaze for a second before turning to his phone.

“It’s fine,” he mutters, loud enough for you to catch. 

You frown, glancing at Jennie, who’s wearing a bewildered expression on her face. 

“Fine?” you ask. 

Jake scoffs, putting down his drink that he’s been sipping on. “Dude, that’s all you got? She looks stunning, and all you gotta say is ‘fine’?”

You bite your lower lip, watching as Sunghoon grits his teeth. The grip on his phone tightens. “I said it looks fine,” he repeats, sharper this time. “I mean, you look great, I guess.”

A pause. 

You gulp, exhaling shakily. 

“Okay…” you say, dragging the word out as you turn back to the mirror. You sigh.

Why are you feeling this way—defeated, disappointed, and angry, even? Sunghoon is just your best friend, and you’ve been friends since you were in first grade. He’s not your boyfriend, nor do you think he’ll ever be—so why are you so upset?

Jennie walks up to you, squeezing your shoulders in some kind of solace. She smiles. “Let’s go check out other dresses—or do you want to buy this one?”

You glance at Sunghoon. 

“Let’s buy this one?”

You and Jennie giggle before turning to the shop employee to discuss further about your dresses. After you turn away, Jake sighs. 

He looks at Sunghoon, leaning in. He drops his voice so only Sunghoon can hear. “You know, if you wanted to compliment her first,” he says, his words stinging. “You should’ve spoken up.”

Sunghoon stares at his phone stoically, not reacting at first, but his fingers begin to curl against his knee. He does not say anything, and the tension stays in the air, unsettled between them. 

You jog back towards them a few minutes later, happily smiling at the purchase. The feeling that stings your heart when you look at Sunghoon still lingers, but you’re too jolly about the beautiful dress that’s now yours to don. 

Jake sits up straight, his smile mirroring your beam. He watches you and Jennie animatedly gush about your dresses intently, contrasting with the way Sunghoon is quietly staring at you, pretending like he’s not interested. 

At the end of the day, Jake was the one you playfully swatted, the one listening intently to every word you say—and Sunghoon was the one you looked at, waiting.

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon, Thank you for picking out the dress for me. I think I like it a lot. Obviously because it’s not what you picked out but anyway! I’m nervous. Not because I like Jaeyun or anything. It’s just the general homecoming thing. You know, the surroundings and the partying… I hope I can handle it. I’ve got nothing against Jaeyun, he’s very sweet and kind, but I do still wish you’re my date instead.  Why didn’t you ask me to be your homecoming date, Hoon? Did you know how desperately I have been waiting? Did you know how guilty I felt to be brushing off Jaeyun every single time he asked me to go to hoco with him? Look at me now. I’m his date for tomorrow.  Hoon, I wish I had the courage to tell you. I wish I was brave enough to tell you that I like you, and that I don’t care if it ruins our lifelong friendship. I wish I was fearless enough to ask you to homecoming.  I wish I was better. I don’t know if I’m good enough for you, but if you ever need a girlfriend, or a wife one day… I’m here. Always.  Sent 23:00 PM, 3rd April. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Sunghoon,  It’s homecoming.  Jaeyun’s going to come and pick me up soon—in like half an hour. I got the girls over, to help with makeup and all. I feel gorgeous, Hoon, but I wonder if you think so too.  I wish the person who’d come and pick me up to go to homecoming today was you. I really want to see you in a suit—oh God, I know just how good you’ll look. Honestly, even in a hoodie and sweatpants, you look stunning.  Sent 17:35 PM, 4th April. 

“Y/N! Sweetie, Jake’s here!” you hear your mom call from downstairs. 

“Coming!” you shout back, shoving a lipgloss and a pack of tissues into your purse before rushing downstairs. 

The sound of your feet thudding against the stairs causes Jake to turn around, and his eyes immediately widen.

His eyes sparkle as they gaze on you, and he looks as if he’s never seen someone as beautiful as you. He stands respectfully by the stairway, giving you a polite smile.

“Hi,” you greet Jake, leaning into his side hug. Jake is smartly fitted into a neat suit with tie, and a corsage is tucked perfectly into the pocket of his chest. He hands you a matching one. 

“Do… you want to wear this?” 

You make eye contact with Heeseung, who’s standing by the door with Jennie. He nods, and you turn to Jake. “Sure.”

He fastens the corsage around your wrist, his touch gentle and careful. “Is it okay? If i-it’s too tight or anything,” Jake says, “tell me.”

You pat his shoulder. “It’s fine, I’m good. Thank you, Jaeyun.”

Heeseung drives all of you to the conference hall of Decelis Academy, where the homecoming will be held. Upon arrival, Jake opens the door of the car and helps you out. 

Feeling slightly overwhelmed hearing the faint music coming from inside the hall, you turn to Jake. “So,” you say, slowing down your walking pace. “What do we usually do at hoco?”

“Hmm, there’s a concert by our school band—you know Jay? He used to be the lead guitarist,” Jake explains. “His girlfriend, Han Jihyeon, is the main singer. They’re sickeningly cute, in my opinion.”

You chuckle and nod along, recalling several moments where you’ve seen the couple interact with each other at school last year. 

“There’s also plenty of games,” continues Jake. The two of you walk together into the hall, and as you reach the door, he opens it for you. “Oh, and you don’t have to dance if you don’t want to, you know.”

You nod, bracing yourself for a chaotic night. 

After taking pictures with Jake, Jennie, Naeun, and Heeseung, you find yourself retreating to the refreshments section of the conference hall. Jake left to play games and dance with his friends, as well as reconnect with his old buddies who have graduated. At first, he felt guilty to leave you alone, but you insisted he go enjoy himself so much that he gave in. 

You bring out your phone and adjust your hair, which your mom had put in a half updo adorned with a sparkly white ribbon. Your makeup tonight is bedazzling too, and you admit, for once, it made you feel more beautiful than ever before. Kudos to Jennie and Naeun for being your makeup artist. 

“Y/N!” you hear Jake call for you. You look towards his direction, seeing him quickly approaching you. 

“Yeah?” you answer, fidgeting with the empty plastic cup in your hand. 

“Do you want to come and play some games?” he asks. He grins confidently, but he quickly adds a stammering, “I mean, i-if you want to.”

“Honestly, I don’t really want to,” you reply, “but since we’re already here, why not?”

You watch as Jake’s uptight and polite expression transforms into a bright smile. “Okay!” he beams, grabbing your arm. “Let’s go!”

You don’t know if it’s Jake’s luminous grin or if it’s the games that are fun, but you enjoyed almost every minute of the games you played. You found yourself laughing amongst Jake and his friends, and found them to actually be decently nice. You too found yourself sharing many greasy yet fulfilling snacks with Jake, bonding over random things such as physics, iconic movies and so on. 

When the time to go home comes around, Jake escorts you to Heeseung’s car and waits until your brother comes. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs as you lean slightly against the car, “I had a really good time tonight.”

You give Jake a smile. “Of course,” you pat his shoulder. “I also enjoyed tonight a lot, surprisingly. Thanks for asking me out.”

Jake laughs shyly, the corner of his eyes crinkling along. He rubs the back of his neck. “Y-yeah! You’re welcome… and you know, I think we should hang out sometime?”

“With Hoon?” you inquire—immediately regretting it after, realising the meaning behind his words.

“Um–” Jake lets out an awkward chuckle. “Sure, alright.”

He smiles, more genuine and confident this time. “But I’d like it if it was just the two of us.”

The breeze blows, and you realise that you’re wearing something so revealing on an early spring night. You push your hair out of your face and rub your bare shoulders with your hands, in an attempt to warm yourself up. “It’s really cold tonight,” you laugh. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jake agrees, swiftly removing his suit jacket and placing it on your shoulder. He stands right in front of you—and you notice, then, how tall he is—and adjusts the placement of his jacket on you. “Is it better now?”

The scent of honey, cinnamon, and freshly baked apple pies mixed with a faint touch of expensive cologne attacks your senses. You pull Jake’s suit jacket closer to your body, attempting to combat the cold winds. “Yep! Thank you so much, Jaeyun.” 

“Jake!” you hear Heeseung call from a distance, interrupting something Jake was about to say. Your brother—accompanied by Jennie—quickly approaches the two of you, giving Jake a brief handshake. “Thanks for waiting with Y/N.”

Jake places a hand on his chest before nodding slightly. “Of course. The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Thanks for coming to homecoming with my twin brother, Y/N-ie,” Jennie says, giving you a hug. “We finally get to take pictures together. I’ll send them all to you, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, mirroring Jennie’s smile. “I’ll see you later, Jen.”

“See you!” she exclaims before linking arms with Jake. “Come on, my feet hurt from all the dancing.”

You watch with a huge smile as the twins walk away to their ride. 

Jake rolls his eyes. “Who told you to wear heels?”

Jennie simply gave her twin brother an annoyed look. “Shut up. Beauty is pain.”

“Anyway, we have to go now,” Heeseung says, pulling your attention back to him. 

“Mom will kill me if I don’t get you home before midnight,” he continues, nudging you with his elbow. He opens the car door, signalling for you to get in. “Come on.”

“Bye, Jaeyun, Jen!” you say as you get into the car. 

Jake sends you a soft smile along with a nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“WHAT the hell,” you breathe shakily. 

First, you forgot to return Jake’s suit jacket to him before he left.

Secondly, you’re barely done with your nighttime after-shower routine when you hear knocks on your window. 

Quickly wiping your hair dry with a towel, you rush to your window, the damp towel still in hand. You push the curtains open, only to be greeted with a vision of Sunghoon, leaning against the glass with a grin on his face. Your eyes widen with shock.

“Park Sunghoon!” you exclaim hushedly, immediately opening the window to let him in. 

“Thanks,” he grumbles, effortlessly climbing into your room. He lands with a soft thud, and he stands patiently, waiting for you to close the window. 

“God, you gave me a heart attack,” you say. “What are you doing here? It’s cold outside, you know? How did you even manage to climb up here?”

“Eat,” he replies, instead of answering your questions. Sunghoon then hands you a plastic bag filled with goodies—and you perfectly know what’s inside. 

“What’s this?” you ask nevertheless, grabbing the plastic bag. 

Before you could even open the plastic bag, Sunghoon excellently answers, “Pocari Sweat, cream cheese with salmon kimbap and ice cream.”

A wide grin immediately emerges on your face, much to Sunghoon’s satisfaction. “Oh my god!” you exclaim, sitting down on the heated floor. “I’ve been craving this.”

“You always do, especially after a long night,” Sunghoon murmurs, more like to himself, as he sits down across you, leaning against the wall. 

Unnoticed by you, Sunghoon stays silent as he watches you eat heartily; your facial features highlighted by the warm light of your bedside table.

Something caresses his heart. Some kind of feeling… It makes him feel full and content.

“Switch on the lights, I swear to God,” Sunghoon sighs. 

“No,” you shake your head, cheeks filled with kimbap. “My parents are going to think I’m still awake. Plus, this kind of ambiance makes me sleepy.”

“And?” Sunghoon raises a brow, amused. “Do you want to eat while sleeping?”

“No!” you insist, swallowing a big bite of kimbap. “I want to make myself sleepy so that I can sleep as early as possible.”

Sunghoon snorts. “It’s 12 o’clock, Y/N. What kind of ‘early’ are you talking about?”

He laughs cheerfully—still keeping a low volume—as he dodges a pillow from you. 

“I mean,” you defend yourself, mouth still full of food. “At least it’s earlier than 5 o’clock.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, laughter still lingering around him. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Princess. 

A nickname that rolls off Sunghoon’s tongue so comfortably. It’s an old habit—stemming from an incident that happened when the two of you were kids; where Sunghoon had deliberately called you ‘princess’ just to annoy you, knowing that as a seven-year-old, you wanted to be a dragon warrior when you grew up, not a princess.

Though, the same nickname used by Sunghoon for years to no end still gives you plenty of butterflies and heart-fluttering moments. By logic, you should’ve gotten used to it by now, considering the absurd amount of times he called you by that. 

The two of you sit facing each other, faces lit by the dim light of your mushroom shaped lamp. You and Sunghoon sit in pure silence, the sounds of breathing and occasional satisfactory humming coming from you due to the food filling the atmosphere. 

Sunghoon looks at you attentively—the way you melt into every bite of food that you enjoy; the way that you sit cross-legged in front of him, vulnerable and authentic. It’s just you and him—the pure and bare you; your face naked with no makeup on, your shoulder-length hair let loose, the bangs framing your face perfectly as it should. 

“Goodness, I’m so tired,” you groan, laying down on the floor with an almost finished ice cream in your hand.  

Sunghoon scoffs, adjusting his lean against the wall. “You’re going to choke on that ice cream.”

You throw him a glare. “Shut up.”

Sunghoon merely chuckles, shaking his head. 

“So, Y/N,” Sunghoon says after a moment of unbroken eye contact, caused by him intently watching you try to eat ice cream while laying down. “How was it?”

You immediately sit down. “Hoco?”

Sunghoon nods. “Yeah. Was it fun, with Jake?”

“It was okay. I unexpectedly enjoyed it more than I wanted to,” you reply, finishing your ice cream. “I do think I prefer night-ins to binge watch dramas or movies—like To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, or Emily In Paris—don’t you think?”

Sunghoon smiles briefly. He nods, “movies are more of your thing, I think.”

“Anyway, I’m glad I went,” you continue, “I’m in my senior year—we’re in our senior year, and we won’t get to experience something like this anymore. It’s actually fun!”

Sunghoon sighs as he shrugs. “Homecoming’s not my thing. I thought… I thought it wasn’t yours either.”

You look at him, staring at his features a minute longer. “I-I mean, it still isn’t. I just went because Jennie and Naeun insisted I go.”

“And because Jake did too?”

“Oh, um,” you stammer, “not really. I-I mean, I’ve been shrugging him off for a while now. I even rejected him for prom last year, remember?”

You swear you saw Sunghoon smirk for a split second. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m surprised someone even asked you out.”

“Why?” you roll your eyes. “You think I’m not pretty enough?”

“You are.”

“What–”

“You’re too pretty, people are afraid to ask you out.”

Silence. 

You stare at Sunghoon, your childhood best friend, with widened eyes. He looks back at you, firmly connecting the eye contact with some kind of determination and genuineness you’ve never quite seen before. 

It took a while for you to finally form a response. 

“Oh. Um..”

Sunghoon stands up. “Well, then, sleep well. I have to go now.”

“S-so soon?” you blurt out, flabbergasted. 

Sunghoon smiles softly. “I have practice tomorrow. Come watch.”

“Of course, I always do,” you nod eagerly. You didn’t know when it all started, but for as long as you remember, Sunghoon and you had always been each other’s biggest supporters. You never really missed any of his hockey matches and most of his practices; and he never truly missed any of your music recitals too. 

Your cheeks blush at the thought, and all you could do is gawk at Sunghoon as he ruffles your hair.

“See you later, princess,” he says, pushing your window open. “Sweet dreams.”

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon! I’m so excited! A four-day school trip is really what I needed—just spending time with friends with no worry of anything at all… it must be fun. I hope it’s going to be just like how it is in the dramas; where all we do is play games, maybe sort out treasure hunts and eat delicious food all day. I heard the fee’s going to be quite a lot, so I really do hope the activities are worth attending for.  Also, I think I need to restock on sunscreen and some other stuff. I want to ask Heeseung to take me to Olive Young, but if I’m not mistaken he has a resume to work on and my mom’s not letting him go out until he gets that done.  So… Okay, I’ll just text you if you want to go. Hope you do, and hope you won’t think it’s weird or anything! Sent 11:09 AM, 8th April. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon!  Tomorrow is the trip! Ahhh, I’m so excited! I don’t know why I’m very excited for this year’s trip when I went on one last year—maybe it’s the fact that I’ll be spending it with you, for the last time; maybe it’s the fact that I know I’m going to treasure every single moment of this 4-day trip… I don’t know for sure.  This year, we’re going to Gyeongju! I’ve only been there once, with my grandmother in second grade’s winter break, and I loved it there. I’m sure you’ll like it too.  Hoon, thank you for being my friend. You’re such a miracle, a gift to humankind. Also, stop treating me so kindly? It’s… making me delusional.  Sent 20:13 PM, 8th April. 

From the beginning, the senior’s trip is already fun—but the first activity requires something that you somehow dread. The teachers that came along organised a scavenger hunt at the villa that your batch was staying at—and, of course, you’re paired up with Sunghoon for it. 

The tasks were simple but a little tedious, obviously requiring two people. You breezed through them fairly well, but it doesn’t quite help that you’re constantly biting back a smile, remembering how you slept on his shoulder the entire bus ride there.

It also doesn’t quite help that Sunghoon is smiling at you every time you finish a task, looking at you with all of his attention when you’re talking about the next clue. 

You and Sunghoon finished second place, which was not too bad—you were a bit bummed out, considering that the team that finished first was just a few seconds faster than you and Sunghoon. But you weren’t given too much time to dwell on that, because as soon as the scavenger hunt wrapped up, it was time for your tour of Gyeongju.

And, of course, a classic from the dramas had to happen to you. 

You were taking pictures with Jennie and Naeun at the Bulguksa Temple, all giddy and happy due to how pretty it is. 

Then, all of a sudden, it starts pouring. 

Everyone runs for cover, and you’re a bit too slow to catch up with your friends. You try your best to run, eyes squinting as the rain pours down. Suddenly, you’re pulled to your side. You gasp, widening your eyes as you realise that it’s Sunghoon. He pulls you under his jacket, his arms holding it up for the two of you. You hold your breath in, realising how close your face is to his—your nose is barely brushing his. 

He guides you to a hut nearby, where some students are gathered. You gulp—face hot despite the rain bringing stinging cold against your skin. 

“Didn’t know you care so much,” you joke, laughing breathlessly as you attempt to lighten the tension in your shoulders. 

Sunghoon looks at you, holding his gaze for some time. Something difficult to interpret flashes through his eyes for a second. 

“You have no idea,” he mutters before gently pushing you under the roof. 

You watch him, heart thumping loudly against your chest, as he ties his now wet hoodie around his waist, avoiding eye contact. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Park Sunghoon,  What’s going on with my heart? Why does it accelerate so quickly when you’re around? Why does it feel like it’s going to jump out of my chest every single time you hold my hand?  Oh my God. I think I’m going insane.  I can still smell your cologne in the air.  What did you do that for, Sunghoon? I mean, I know it was raining hard and you know I get cold easily… but couldn’t you have just given me your hoodie or something? Anyway, Bulguksa Temple is pretty, isn’t it? Oh my, I’m going to write more when we get home. I can’t really type with my friends around… it’s weird. Also, I have to go get some medication because I think I’m sick from the rain.  Sent 21:00 PM, 9th April. 

“I swear to God, this is so annoying,” you mutter under your breath as you grab onto a light pole for support. You’ve been sneezing non stop for the past hour, and now you’re on the way to the pharmacy near your hotel to get some medicine. Though, it’s really hard and troublesome for you to walk there with constant sneezing and a throbbing headache.

The autumn night wind blows, and you immediately regret wearing a thin cardigan out. 

Why aren’t hoodies in my reach whenever you need them? 

“Y/N!” you hear someone yell your name, footsteps approaching from behind. 

You turn around, surprised to see Jake sprinting towards you. He arrives in a matter of seconds, panting as he catches his breath. 

“Jake?”

“Call me Jaeyun, I said,” he recalls in the midst of his heavy gasps for air. 

“Okay, fine,” you huff, “why are you here, anyway?”

“You’re sick,” Jake says, standing up straight. “Our rooms are two rooms away from each other and I can hear you sneeze all the time. Your nose is red too.”

“Oh,” you purse your lips. “Y-yeah.”

“You’re wearing something so thin too, aigoo,” Jake sighs. He promptly takes off his hoodie, leaving him bare with a white t-shirt underneath. He smoothens the hoodie out and hands it to a flabbergasted you. “Wear this. It’s not too chilly out, but you’re sick so you have to keep warm.”

“Oh,” is all you manage. You then wear Jake’s hoodie as instructed, and the scent of honey and cinnamon engulfs you again. “Thanks. I-I feel a lot warmer now.”

“Good to know,” he says, smiling delicately. “Then let’s go and get you some medicine. We still have two days of the trip, and tomorrow we’re going to Cheomseongdae Observatory. I’m sure you wouldn’t wanna miss it.”

You nod, returning his smile. “Okay then, let’s go.”

Your plan to quickly grab medicine and run back to the hotel as you promised your teacher is completely wrecked. Now, you stand behind Jake at the cashier counter as he pays for your painkillers. 

“Done,” he says, smiling again. He lifts the bag of medicine to his face and shakes it gently. “Look.” 

The thought of doesn’t he get tired of smiling? rushes into your head as you nod. You reach out your hand to take the plastic bag away from him, but he pulls his hand away at the right moment.

“What?” 

“Let me hold it,” he says. Then, he wraps his left arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the pharmacy. “Let’s go eat some ramen?”

“N-now?” you ask him. 

Jake nods enthusiastically. “Mhm, now. You have to eat before you take paracetamol.”

Seeing that he’s actually guiding you to the convenience store a few blocks away, you try to stop him—though he’s a little too strong for you. 

“Jaeyun, you don’t need to eat before taking paracetamol,” you address. 

Jake chuckles. “My mom always told me to eat something warm before,” he answers, “I know you don’t have to, but it makes you feel good. So, why not?”

Maybe it’s Jake’s smile that’s so bright it convinces you to sit down at the convenience store, slurping away instant noodles with him beside you. 

“So good,” you groan, melting into every gulp of the noodles. 

Jake grins. “Told ya.”

“Does it make you feel better?” 

You nod, smiling wide. “It does! I mean, I don’t think it can beat my mom’s chicken soup, but this will do.”

Jake laughs, casting a warm atmosphere around the two of you. He throws his head back, and his smile is so big and cheerful it makes you giggle too. “Sorry I couldn’t bring you your mom’s chicken soup, or at least an authentic one. I can’t get caught venturing further than this.”

You chuckle. “It’s alright. I’m grateful enough that you bought me both my medicine and my food.”

Jake smiles, yet again, at you. “My pleasure.”

“So, Y/N, I heard you play violin,” Jake says after silently watching you finish your cup of noodles. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, cleaning up your things. “I do. Why?”

“Nothing,” Jake replies, “I’m not really into instruments, but my mom and dad used to make me go to piano lessons when I was in elementary school.”

“Lucky,” you giggle, nudging his shoulder. “I wanted to learn piano too, but my dad told me it’d be better to learn violin. I don’t know why, but I guess he wanted me to learn violin because Heeseung oppa was learning piano. Call it ‘variety’,” you laugh. 

Jake chuckles along. 

“So, you know how to play piano, then?” you ask him. 

Jake immediately shakes his head. He raises his hands to his chest in defeat. “A big no! I don’t remember most of it, and I’ve gotten so rusty. I quit piano lessons as soon as middle school started—I got myself busy with basketball so my mom couldn’t bother me.”

You snorted in an attempt to hold in your monstrous laughter. “You’re so petty.”

Jake chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “Y-yeah, I can be.”

“Y/N!” Sunghoon exclaims loudly as he rushes to you. You had just returned with Jake, and you’re about to get into the lift to go back to your room—when suddenly, Sunghoon emerges and hugs you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away to examine you. In fact, he pulls away too fast you didn’t even get to feel the warmth of his embrace. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me? Was it because of the rain?”

As if it’s on cue, you sneeze. “Yeah, I guess. Don’t worry though! Jaeyun got me some medicine, so I should be fine.”

“Jake?” Sunghoon inquires, and he finally notices Jake, who’s standing behind you the whole time. 

Jake shrugs, showing Sunghoon the plastic bag filled with medicine that he’s holding. “I was about to ask where you were. How could you not know that Y/N’s sick?”

“Okay, I’m not that sick, Jaeyun,” you retort. 

Jake narrows his eyes at you. “Mhm. I’ll believe you, Y/N. If I didn’t catch you halfway, you’d be hit by a car with all the sneezing you’re doing.”

“But–” 

“Whatever,” Sunghoon scoffs. He sharply snatches the bag of medicine from Jake’s hand. “C’mon, Y/N, I’ll bring you upstairs.”

“Hey–”

Sunghoon grabs your hand and drags you away, leaving no chance for either Jake or you to say a word. He stays silent, and you do too, throughout the five minutes it took the two of you to get to Room 92. 

“Wh-why are we in front of your room?” you ask, panic starting to seep in. You had memorised his room number from the list your teacher had given out to everyone before the trip. “My room’s 99, not this one…”

“I know,” he says, letting go of your hand as he unlocks the door. “Get in.”

You nod, fiddling with the edges of Jake’s hoodie that you’re wearing. “Where’s your roommate?”

“I told Kangmin to crash at Minseo’s room,” Sunghoon replies offhandedly, closing the door shut. He then changes the light intensity of the lamps, making it a comfortable ambiance for you to be in with such a throbbing headache. 

“Why?” you ask, feeling a little awkward. 

“Well,” Sunghoon replies, pausing to look at you for a while. He continues like it’s the most obvious thing ever, “I didn’t want your roommates to be uncomfortable with you sneezing every five seconds.”

You glare at him. “I mean, they didn’t say anything about it!”

“Yeah, because they don’t want a sick person to feel bad when they’re already sick,” Sunghoon retorts. He walks over to the mini fridge under the cupboard and brings out a carton of strawberry milk. 

“Here,” he hands you the milk. “Eat your medicine quickly, then you can go to bed—wait, have you eaten soup?”

Sitting down on the edge of one of the single beds in the room, you sigh. “I have,” you reply, opening the packaging of the straw. “Jaeyun bought me some.”

Sunghoon, who’s about to get in the bathroom, pauses as he looks at you. For a moment, he doesn’t look away. 

“Okay,” he takes a deep breath as he says, before going to the bathroom. 

For a minute, you stare at the strawberry milk in your hands. You can’t help but smile a little—Sunghoon knows that you can’t swallow pills without flavoured drinks to go with it, due to the bad aftertaste; and he knows that your favourite flavour with almost anything is strawberry—your heart flutters, even if just a little bit, at your best friend’s simple gesture. 

You quickly take your designated dose of paracetamol, followed by the strawberry milk; flopping down sideways onto the bed, feeling the exhaustion taking over you. Unable to control yourself, the world around you then goes dark as you close your eyes shut. 

“Y/N? Princess?” Sunghoon calls, his tone softening as he spots you asleep. 

He walks over to you, shaking his head. “I swear, this girl…”

After trying to wake you up several times and failing, Sunghoon decides to just let you sleep on his bed—he’ll sleep on Kangmin’s. With his build, he easily adjusts your posture so it’s more comfortable for you—he tucks you in with the comforter; neatly arranging your medicine and half-finished strawberry milk on the bedside table. 

His tense features relax upon seeing you. 

Sunghoon sits beside your sleeping figure, taking his time to absorb your presence. Some kind of heavy emotions dawn on him—he doesn’t know why or where they came from. Maybe it’s overwhelming affection for his best friend of more than a decade; maybe it’s the emotions suppressed for years. 

Although reluctant, Sunghoon brushes hair away from your face—stunned to find himself admiring every inch of it. Accentuated by the dim lighting of the room, you look extremely beautiful. 

Sunghoon retracts his hand, pressing it against his accelerating heart. 

Why did she have to smile like that to Jake? Why did she have to let him take care of her when I’m here?

For the first time, he realises the heat in his cheeks as he gazes upon you. For the first time in a while, he admits the way his heart tightens, and the way his emotions churn in his stomach as he watches a laugh escape you when you’re with Jake. For the first time in years, he recognises the beauty of his best friend—it’s enchanting, ethereal and everlasting. 

Though, Sunghoon’s extremely worried—and this is the sole reason why he’s been pushing away his own feelings for several years—he’s feared that his feelings would get in the way of your strong friendship. Countless thoughts attack him daily, every time he finds himself admiring you a little too much than he’s supposed to—what if you don’t like him back? What if you think it’s extremely weird? What if you don’t want to be friends with him anymore because you’re uncomfortable with it?

Sunghoon shakes his head, smacking his face lightly to knock himself out of it. He better get rid of whatever he’s feeling before it gets out of control.

At least I get to be close to her at all times. 

Sunghoon then places his hand against your forehead, thankful that your temperature has gone down. The paracetamol was taking effect, and Sunghoon dearly hopes that you’ll be fine by tomorrow morning. 

He smiles at the thought of spending a whole day with you. 

“Shut up, Park Sunghoon,” he mutters to himself. 

“Y/N! Good morning!” Jennie greets you, bringing you into a hug. She raises a brow at Sunghoon, who’s following you as you come out of the elevator. “What’s going on?”

“What?” you ask. 

“Don’t be so dense,” Naeun sighs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Why did you come out of the elevator with Sunghoon? You were gone last night too—I can’t believe I had to spend a night in a city I’ve never been to alone.”

Your eyes widen—you had spent the night in Park Sunghoon’s room without telling your girls about it. A misunderstanding could happen, and you didn’t have the energy to face one. “I-I accidentally fell asleep,” you say, before leaning close to your friends to whisper, “in his room.”

Naeun makes a disgusted face and Jennie gasps loudly. “Are you kidding me?” the latter shrieks. 

Behind you, you hear Sunghoon chortle. 

“No, no! It’s not what you think it is,” you panickedly say. Then, you add—even though it hurts to say, “we’re just friends.”

Jennie throws a dirty look at Sunghoon, who’s somehow struggling to keep a poker face on. “Yeah, sure. I’ll take your word for that,” she replies with a heavy sarcastic tone. 

“I’ve done it multiple times!” you blurt out, immediately regretting that you worded it wrong—surely, it sounded like something else to your girlfriends. “I-I mean, we’ve been friends since pre-elementary, and we’ve slept together platonically for countless times.”

Naeun chuckles, “whatever.” 

“Oh, also,” Sunghoon says, catching the attention of you and the two girls. “Here, wear my jacket,” he adds, smoothly taking off his varsity jacket, which has P. SUNGHOON and the number 23 embroidered at the back. He grabs your shoulders, spins you around and places the cream and navy blue varsity jacket on you. 

“There,” he says, smiling sillily as he spins you back around to face him. “In case you get cold.”

You suck in your breath through gritted teeth, knowing perfectly the looks given to you and Sunghoon from Jennie and Naeun. Though, as you fight your inner demons that are strongly urging you to squeal your heart out to release the heat in your cheeks, you smile.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say as you properly wear his varsity jacket. Soon after, your nose buds are graciously attacked by the familiar scent of Sunghoon—fresh and masculine; a floral fragrance with herbaceous sweet undertones, perfectly blended with a warm and earthy aroma of a sweet yet spicy undertone. 

“Hoon,” you ask, “are you wearing the Ralph Lauren perfume I got for you for your 16th birthday?”

He nods, slightly surprised. “You remember?”

Your cheeks warms again, “y-yeah. Well, I did smell it thoroughly before giving it to you, t-that’s why I got it memorised,” you smile as warmly as your cheeks, “I had to give you something that suits you so well.”  

Sunghoon laughs. “Really?”

Actively ignoring the disgusted looks on your friends’ faces, Sunghoon proceeds to pinch your cheeks. “Aww, you love me~” he jokingly coos.  

You mask your true feelings, once again, with a horrified expression. “Yeah, I do,” you admit slowly under your breath.

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  I think I just fell in love with you all over again.  Oh God.  Sent 21:45 PM, 12th April. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Park Sunghoon,  It’s been a long time since I’ve sent in anything. School has been quite hectic, hasn’t it? I barely see you after school, now that you’re busy with hockey practice and I’m busy with extra class and orchestra practice. Ahh, I’m so nervous! This is my first time assigned to play in the First Violins! I honestly wish I got to lead it this time, considering the amount of time I’ve played in a concert, but I do think that Gaeul deserves it! She plays violin really well, I’m sometimes envious of her skill.  Oh, we have two concerts upcoming, by the way. One is next Tuesday, for the choir—we’re playing alongside as their background music. I’m the concertmaster for this one! I’m really really really nervous… I’ve been practising a lot, my hand hurts even typing and doing homework! Would you come and watch me play, Hoon?  Sent 20:04 PM, 10th May. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Sunghoon! I think you did well today. Did you notice me in the bleachers? I was at school for a short while today—I wanted to pick up a textbook I accidentally left in my locker… hehehe. Please don’t scold me for being forgetful, I was so engrossed in orchestra practice yesterday. I almost missed the bus too! When I was walking past the ice rink, I saw you playing with your friends. You look so cool… gracefully skating on the ice. You look so determined and skillful. Oh my God, how do you even manage to look handsome and play hockey so well at the same time? I’m speechless… Anyway, I came in and watched you guys play. I sat with Han Jihyeon—you know her? She’s Dongmin’s noona. I talked to her about a lot of things—like how the fall band concert went, and how she’s balancing studies alongside her other stuff. Honestly, I admire her support for her younger brother. She says she’s never yet to miss watching any of his hockey practices and matches… She inspires me to do the same for you! Hehe.  Oh God, I’m so… optimistic for no reason. I act like your girlfriend, even… when I’m not.  You know what? It’s okay. At least I get to be there, admiring you from afar. That’s not too bad, right? Sent 13:56 PM, 11th May. 

AS you’re putting on some makeup, trying to not ruin it due to your shaky hands, your smartphone rings. You glance over and see Sunghoon’s contact name, ‘Baekgu’, calling you. You quickly put your eyeshadow palette and brush down, picking up the call. 

“Hi,” you say, putting the call on loudspeaker. You then set your smartphone back on your table, turning to the mirror to continue your makeup routine. “I’m putting you on loudspeaker, I’m putting on makeup.”

“Okay,” comes his reply. “What time is your concert? Isn’t it at half past five?”

You nod, carefully putting on highlighter and glitter on the edges of your eyes. “Yeah, but I have to get there at five.”

“Want me to pick you up?” 

You snort. “You can’t even drive yet, Hoon.”

You hear him scoff, and laugh at the imagination of him doing so. “I have a motorcycle licence, you idiot.”

“Okay, okay,” you chortle, “but you don’t have practice today?”

“No,” he replies, “I can go to tomorrow’s—you have a concert today, why would I miss it?”

Your pupils dilate, and you pause in the midst of applying blush. “U-um—are you crazy, Park Sunghoon? You’re in the varsity team,” you scold him, “you shouldn’t be skipping any training!”

Sunghoon cackles. “Yah, who do you think I am? I’m Park Sunghoon, you know? One day of no training isn’t a big deal to me!”

To: parksung.h0812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon, I’m so nervous. On Tuesday, we’ll have the orchestra concert—and Miss Jeon, this morning, had suddenly told me that I have to replace Gaeul as concertmaster as she had an accident, broke her arm and was hospitalised, so she can’t play. I went to visit Gaeul just now, and she told me not to feel bad because I’m replacing her, but rather that I should feel proud because Miss Jeon knows that I’m capable enough to be a good concertmaster.  I don’t know… I don’t know if I’ll play well enough. Sent 10:12 AM, 18th May.

You adjust your sitting posture, taking a deep breath of the fresh air around you. You had walked over to the park to clear your thoughts. The concert that you’re going to play in as concertmaster is coming in less than two days, and since it is the biggest concert you’ve ever played in, you’re more nervous than you ever were for any of your previous concerts. 

“Y/N!” you hear Jake’s voice, and as you look up, he’s already making his way towards you. 

“Hi,” he smiles as he greets you. “What are you doing out here alone? Without a hoodie, too.”

You shove your hands into the pockets of your pants, grinning sheepishly. “It’s okay, it’s not too cold.”

“You okay?” he asks as he takes a seat next to you. Jake looks a tad bit reluctant to do so, but the tension present in his features relaxes a little as you give him a reassuring smile. “You look a little off right now. Are you alright?”

You laugh, patting Jake’s arm. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Jake looks at you, his eyes filled with adoration. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s spring, but lately, he’s constantly thinking about you. Recently, all he’s curious about is if you’ve eaten, if you’re taking good care of yourself, if you’re feeling okay. 

Though, Jake knows that he’s just a friend. Jake knows, perfectly enough, that he’s just your deskmate, who you talk to only out of courtesy or when Sunghoon’s away. 

Spring is the season of love and blossoming feelings, and for Jake, it is wishing that you would see him as something more. 

“I’m just wondering,” you begin, “if I’ll do good enough for the concert. I’m really, really nervous. I feel like my heart’s about to burst.”

“Oh?” Jake tilts his head slightly. “I think you’ll do okay.”

You lower your head. “I don’t think ‘okay’ is enough. I need this to be perfect—it’s my last high school orchestra concert, and-and I don’t think I’ve been practising as much as I wanted to, with all the studying–”

Jake grabs your hand and places it on his heart. It’s racing, beatng faster than you thought it was.

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.  

“Here. Can you feel it?”

Too flustered—both from the sudden form of intimacy and the feeling of Jake’s heartbeats against your hand, you find yourself unable to form any words, so you simply nod. 

“This is how I feel every single time a basketball match is about to start, or whenever I’m with someone I enjoy being around,” Jake continues, “it’s as if my heart is running faster than I do… but anyway, my point is that it’s okay to feel nervous, even when you’re doing something you’ve done so many times. You’ve worked hard for this concert, right?”

Jake looks at you, directly in the eye, and he gives you a gentle smile. It’s reassuring and comforting, conveying to you more than his words did. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. 

“Then, you don’t have to be afraid,” Jake says, his voice softer than his usual poised tone, “you’ll do well—just like you always do. If you don’t believe in that, it’s okay. Just know that I believe in you. A lot of people do.”

“Thank you, Jaeyun,” you sigh, after taking a few minutes to process Jake’s words—and the fact that you’re sitting there, with him, hand in hand. 

It gives you tingles, exciting your nerves—Jake’s presence is gentle and warm, even if it’s a little sudden and abrupt. You enjoy being around him, and seeing another side to the well-known basketball talent—who’s always seen as someone who is carefree and laid-back. Honestly, you’re surprised to find out that the caring side of Jake was so much more than just smiling frequently at people. You’re surprised to find that Jake is a soul made out of compassion and kindness, and you’re ever so grateful to befriend someone like him. 

“My pleasure,” he replies, squeezing your hand once. “I’m… glad to be of help.”

You let go of his hand, standing up. “I’m going to go home and practise some more,” you tell Jake, who immediately perks up at your voice. “I’ll see you later?”

“Alright—you don’t want me to walk you home?”

You shake your head, “it’s okay, I can manage.”

Jake nods, and waves you goodbye. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Today’s the day of the concert. I’m very scared, but I’ll try to shrug it off. I woke up super early today, despite not being able to sleep that well last night. I’m all dressed, I did my hair and makeup for school; I even have the dress for the concert all ready. I already double checked my violin and memorised my music sheets (even though I’ll be having them on display for the concert later)... but I just still feel so anxious. Help me, Sunghoon, I don’t know what to do. Sent 6:32 AM, 20th May.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jake greets you, knocking you out of your train of thought. You look to your side and see him hopping off his bicycle, pushing it slowly to match your walking pace. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you smile back, your cheeks itching due to the insincerity of the smile. “Where’s Jennie?” 

“She’s still at home,” Jake answers, “you know her—she’s always out at around half past seven.”

You nod, aware of what he’s talking about. “I see. Why are you out so early, though? It’s only seven o’clock.”

Jake chuckles. “Well I figured I had to start out early to catch up with you. Turns out my timing is perfect today. I always catch you at school already.”

“Yeah,” you give him a courteous smile. “I noticed that too.”

“So, how’ve you been doing?” Jake asks, after around five minutes of silence.  

“I’m fine,” you simply say. You’re lying, as who would be absolutely fine when they’ve got an extremely important and big event coming up in a few hours? Though, you didn’t feel the need to explain to Jake. 

“Are you?” he counters, an eyebrow raised in the following. “I’m really amazed if you truly are, considering that you’ve been balancing studying for midterms and national entrance exams—which at the same time, you’ve also been practising violin.”

You choke out some laughter. “You’ve been observant of me, huh? Don’t think that’s a little creepy?”

Satisfaction and a little bit of guilt washes through you as you delightfully watch Jake’s eyes widen. “I-oh my,” he stumbles over his words the same way he’s tripping on air out of pure embarrassment. He quickly catches up with you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as a creep, Y/N. I’m just quite… observant, that’s all.”

You chortle, feeling in the mood to tease the five feet nine inches dude walking beside you. “Are you?” you tease, mimicking his accent and the way he said it to you earlier, “then, Jaeyun, tell me what are the ten enzymes in the glycolysis process?”

Jake’s jaw drops wide open. “I-I mean–”

You burst out laughing, glad that you’re finally able to catch him off guard. “Gotcha. Knew you weren’t thoroughly observant.”

“Hey! That isn’t fair, you’re asking me about biology,” Jake pouts. “Who on earth would pay attention in Mrs Nelly’s class?”

“Y/N would.”

You pause in your tracks, shock sending chills throughout your body as you feel Sunghoon’s voice to your right. You look in his direction, and he’s already walking in synchronisation of your tempo. Sunghoon slides his arm around your shoulder, giving you a grin.

“Good morning, princess,” he says casually. 

 You clear your throat, your cheeks coloured pink at the close vicinity. “Good morning, Hoon.”

“Good morning, Sunghoon,” Jake says plainly. 

“Oh, Jake?” Sunghoon tilts his head, giving the basketball jock a taunting yet innocent look—as if he’s just noticed his presence. “G’morning.” 

You manage to catch a glimpse of Sunghoon’s smug face: his left eyebrow raised and his slight  smile was evidently one-sided—directed straight to Jake. 

“Have you eaten breakfast, princess?” Sunghoon asks, turning back to you.

You shake your head, flexing your shoulders to adjust the position of both your backpack and your violin case backpack. “I don’t have the appetite.”

Both Sunghoon and Jake form a perplexed look simultaneously. Sunghoon smacks the back of your head feebly, rolling his eyes. “Yah! What did I tell you? Eat your breakfast!” he scolds, “do you want me to die?”

“What does my breakfast have to do with you dying?” you retort. 

“Well–” your best friend of almost 10 years pauses. “It doesn’t matter, but, c’mon,” he changes the topic, grabbing your hand. He glances at Jake, who’s biting his lips shut, before dragging you away. “Let’s get to school early so we can grab some breakfast.”

“Oomf–” you manage, stumbling. “See you later, Jaeyun!” you give Jake a wave with your free hand. Jake forms a smile upon seeing it, and in return, he waves. 

“ARE you nervous?” Sunghoon asks as the two of you are packing your bags at the end of the day’s lessons. 

“Well, if you can’t tell,” you joke with a deadpanned expression, zipping your school backpack shut. “Yes.”

Sunghoon runs a hand through his hair, smiling meekly. “I mean, you’re so good at the violin, so I didn’t think you’d be nervous.”

“Are you insane?” you gasp, smacking the 12th grader’s head. He blocks your hit effortlessly with his arm. “It’s my biggest concert as a freaking concertmaster!”

Sunghoon grins. “So? You’re going to ace it either way,” he grabs you, and before you could react, puts you in a headlock. He ruffles your hair aggressively. “Won’t you?”

“Hey!” you scream, frantically pulling yourself away from him. Luckily for you, his grip is purposefully loose, so you quickly stand back on your feet. “What was that for?”

Sunghoon merely smiles—it’s gentler and comforting this time—as if he’s silently reassuring you that everything will go just fine. 

“Y/N,” Jake calls, shattering the moment you’re having with Sunghoon. You quickly turn to face him, unaware of the grim change in Sunghoon’s expression. Jake hands you a canned ice lemon tea. “Here, um, I don’t know if you like lemon tea or not–”

“I do!” you animatedly beam. Jake sighs in gratitude.

“...thank God. Anyway, I got this for you, my grandma said that tea’s good for calming your nerves down,” Jake continues. 

“The sugar will make her energetic anyway,” you hear Sunghoon mutter grumpily behind you. You’re not sure if Jake hears it, because the smile on his face is unwavering. 

“Thanks,” you say. Jake nods, and before he can say anything in reply, Sunghoon snatches the can of ice lemon tea in your hand. 

“This looks good,” he muses, his smirk evident. You turn towards him, confused. What is he really trying to do? “I’m gonna have some, eh?”

You wear your backpack, shrugging. “You do you, Park Sunghoon. I’m going to go now, I’ve got to get ready for the concert.”

“Wait up!” Sunghoon exclaims, running after you. 

SUNGHOON runs into the waiting area of the orchestra pit’s stage, 15 minutes before the concert starts. He tries to spot you—or simply anyone he knows to help him find you. He sees plenty of people: a group of violinists, another group of people tuning their cellos and violas. His eyes scan through the crowd, and spots you in a corner, pacing here and there to calm yourself down.  

“Y/N,” he says, a little softer than he intended. You turn around—the ankle-length black skirt creating a flower around you as it swirls, your hair gently hitting your face. Sunghoon clears his throat in an attempt to drive away the fluttering butterflies in his stomach. 

“Oh, you look beautiful,” he blurts out, leaving you wide-eyed and as flustered as he is. 

“T-thanks,” you manage. 

Sunghoon takes a deep breath, hesitating at the last minute. He brings out his arms and pulls you into a hug, embracing you in his warmth; at the same time stepping over the line he’s placed between himself and you. He lingers around longer than you expect him to, and when he finally pulls away, the tip of his ears are flushed red. 

“You’ll do great,” Sunghoon whispers, squeezing your shoulders in hopes of channeling the confidence he has in your ability, to you. “I know that.”

You smile warmly at him. 

This is why you can’t stop falling in love with him—Park Sunghoon—your own best friend. He knows you so well, probably even more than you know yourself. He knows exactly when you need anything, and perfectly how you need things. He makes you feel like it’s so easy to befriend you—like loving you is the easiest thing in the world, even if it was platonic. 

Everything is simple and easy when you’re with Sunghoon. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  I haven’t been writing to you in a very long time—I hope you’re doing okay. National state exams are coming in less than a week, and I’m a total nervous wreck. I’ve been studying every single day, but I don’t know… I wish I planned things out better. I don’t know if I’ve memorised everything, if I’ve reviewed everything, and if I’ve done enough practice questions.  I’m laughing at myself right now. So ironic, right? I’m Decelis Academy’s prodigy, the so-called “academic weapon” of our school, but I can’t even get studying right.  I haven’t been studying properly these past few days. I can’t even open my eyes… my head hurts and nothing makes sense. I don’t know, Sunghoon. I wish burnout didn’t exist. And I sincerely hope that you’re not going through the same thing as me.  Sent 12:48 PM, 9th November. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon, Why am I like this? Why can’t I study properly? Every passing minute I feel more like a failure. Why can’t I memorise anything? I’m so dumb. So stupid.  I don’t know anymore. Sent 8:03 AM, 10th November.

Sunghoon grabs a coat and quickly heads out of his house, desperate to get fresh air. Studying has gotten his head clogged, and for the first time in a while, he believes that burnout is real. He hasn’t even been to two weeks of hockey practice, and that is significant for someone like Sunghoon. 

He grabs his smartphone out of his pocket and opens one of the only pinned contacts in his messages—you. He’s worried; you haven’t texted him back in three days. And knowing you, Sunghoon guesses that you probably forgot to respond to him due to your intense studying. 

Since he’s already out and about to talk a walk, he might as well grab a refresher or two and visit you. Sunghoon stops by a cafe near your school, one that he specifically knew to always have your favourite strawberry danish. He buys two of them along with two cups of lemon sprite, swiftly catching a taxi to arrive at your house faster. 

After sitting down, Sunghoon texts you. 

hey, have you had lunch?

And to his surprise, he gets a response within three minutes. 

Though, it wasn’t from you. 

sunghoon, this is heeseung

y/n’s in the hospital

she collapsed 

the doctor said it’s bc she hasn’t eaten properly the past few days

He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

His heart stops for a split second. The world around him starts spinning rapidly as he tries to process Heeseung’s messages. His hands start to shake, making it hard for him to type a response to Heeseung. Fear starts to creep up on him, and malicious thoughts fill his brain. 

Sunghoon shakily calls out to the driver to change the route and bring him to the hospital—his heart banging loudly against his chest every second of it. 

“LEE Y/N!” Sunghoon’s scream echoes through the hallway of the hospital as soon as he enters. His vision blurry with tears, he storms in with shaky fists, ignoring all the judging eyes on him. He approaches you, standing right next to your bed. 

“Hoon?” you say, confused. You’ve been awake for half an hour, so you didn’t feel entirely weak. You’re leaning against the bed frame with a pillow propped behind your back, an IV drip to your left hand. 

“Why do you always do this to yourself?” Sunghoon whimpers, every word he utters weaker than the previous one. “Why do you always neglect yourself? Why do you always treat yourself badly? Do you not care about yourself? Do you not care about me… about how I feel when you do this?”

You watch, horror painted across your face, as tears rain down Sunghoon’s cheeks. He utters every word with pain laced onto every letter, and by the time he manages to force the last bit out of his throat, his knees go weak. Sunghoon is on his knees, his hands tightly gripping the sides of the hospital bed. Tears flow uncontrollably from his eyes, staining his handsome porcelain face.

“Hoon,” you call gently, causing him to look up. The expression on his face, his sparkly eyes filled with pain and agony broke your heart. “What… what’s wrong?”

The response comes out of Sunghoon, slow and weak—yet it is sincere, straight from his heart. 

“I can’t lose you.”

“I-” you’re torn. You’re so sure Sunghoon doesn’t see you as someone more than his best friend, yet why is he bawling his eyes out, on his knees, in front of you? He looks like someone who’s almost lost his significant other—yet you’re sure that Sunghoon simply sees you as his childhood buddy. 

Though, you can’t hold it in anymore—your heart breaks at the sight of Sunghoon, the boy you’ve loved for years to no end, in tears because of you. You collect every bit of energy in your body and hop off the bed, crouching to his level. 

“Hoon,” you mumble, grabbing his hands. “Look at me.”

Sunghoon follows, and once again, it breaks your heart to stare into his eyes, now red and tear-stricken. 

“I’m here,” you say, staring straight into his eyes. “Okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

You fight back a smile, reminiscing at a distant memory—one where you comforted a nine-year-old Sunghoon who was wailing the living daylights out of himself, due to you being sick and absent from school for three days. He thought he lost you, that you had moved away and would never come back. You remember pulling him into a hug at the school playground, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Though, as the two of you grow up, Sunghoon never really cried. It’s always been you—crying during sad movies, silently weeping when you get a grade you wished was higher, sobbing when violin classes were a little on the harder side—and Sunghoon had always been the one there to listen and comfort you. Well, quoting a ninth grader Sunghoon, he said men aren’t supposed to cry.

This was the first time you’ve seen him cry, in years. 

Sunghoon looks at your hands, and when his eyes land on the one with the IV drip, tears begin to rain down again. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“What are you sorry for, Hoon?” you ask. 

Sunghoon lets out a heart wrenching sob and pulls you into his embrace. It’s sudden yet warm and tight as if you’ll disappear if he lets you go. You let him sob on your shoulder, though you’re still wondering why seeing you in this condition makes him seem so heartbroken.

A glimpse of hope flutters its way in.

Perhaps Sunghoon harbours the same feelings as you.  

“Y/N!” you hear Jake’s voice, and as you look up, you see him in front of you. His chest is heaving up and down, catching his breath. 

“Hi,” you smile. “Did you run here?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I was at extra class. Then, I heard from Jennie that you’re…”

You chuckle sheepishly. “Yeah… I’m sorry if I made you worry,” you say, glancing at Sunghoon—who’s asleep by your side, his head propped against the bed. 

Jake looks briefly at Sunghoon, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Am I interrupting something?” 

You widen your eyes, quickly shaking your head. “No! I mean, nothing’s going on. He’s just tired.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line, nodding along. “Where are your parents? Heeseung?”

“Oh, they left to get lunch. They should be back soon,” you reply, “I forced Heeseung to make them go, ‘cause I know my mom loses her appetite entirely if anything happens to me or my brother.”

Jake nods. He approaches your bedside table and places a plastic bag filled with fruits inside. “Here, I bought some fruits. They should replenish your energy pretty effectively.”

“Why? Is it because they contain a high level of glucose, fibres and antioxidants?” you jest, giving Jake a lopsided grin.

Jake stares at you, blinking his eyes rapidly in confusion for a few seconds. “Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He smiles a little. “Well, true, but fruits contain natural sugars that can be broken down into glucose. They don’t contain, like, plain old glucose.”

You break out in fits of laughter. “Oh my, someone has been doing his studying well!”

Jake laughs, lowering his head to avoid breaking into a larger eruption of laughter. “Well, I need to study, unfortunately,” he says, after gaining composure. “The entrance exam isn’t going to write itself, is it?”

The two of you exchange smiles. You then look away, shifting your gaze from one object to another while trying to come up with a subject to talk about—as it has become quite awkward as both you and Jake don’t know what to say. 

“So, um, are you feeling okay?” Jake asks, his eyes flickering between your face and the IV drip taped securely on your hand. 

You nod. “I’m okay now. I ate two strawberry danishes,” you giggle, pointing over to the opened packaging of the pastries on the bedside table. “Sunghoon bought them for me! Wah, how does he know exactly what I’m craving for? I haven’t eaten these in so long!”

Something stung Jake’s heart, seeing you talk so animatedly about a tiny gesture made by Sunghoon. The big smile on your face and the higher pitch of your voice tells Jake everything he needs to know about how you feel towards your childhood best friend. 

You like Sunghoon, more than what friends are supposed to. You love Sunghoon, on a much higher level than what friends would do. 

“Why do you like strawberries so much?” Jake asks.

You chuckle awkwardly. “Um. I don’t… really… know how to answer that? I’ve always loved strawberries since I was a kid.”

“Was it because Sunghoon gave you a strawberry when you guys first met?” Jake probes even more. It was just a guess, but he wanted to see your reaction to it. 

Your pupils dilate abruptly. “No! No… no, obviously not. The first thing he ever gave to me was a Bumblebee action figure. He thought it’d be a good replacement after breaking the Kung Fu Panda figurine Heeseung gave to me,” you answer, chuckling at the old memory.

“You remember every moment very clearly,” Jake points out. 

“Oh! Um. Well… that’s because…” you end up simply cheekily smiling at Jake, as you didn’t know what the appropriate response would be.

“You like Sunghoon,” Jake states so curtly it makes you choke on air. 

“Don’t you?” he adds to further push the answer out of you. Jake knows what your answer would be, though he needed to hear it from you.

Your cheeks pink, you spend a good minute staring wide eyed at Jake, not knowing how to respond to such a thorough revelation. You’ve never witnessed this side of Jake before—fierce, determined and harshly curt—his polite and bright smile turned into a sharp and alluring gaze.

“It’s complicated,” you end up saying. 

“You believe he doesn’t like you,” Jake continues. His words hit hard like a bullet, attacking you in every aspect. 

You gape at the 12 grader in front of you. How was he so observant, or are you just too obvious and easy to figure out?

“Yeah…” you sigh. “I mean, friends aren’t supposed to like each other. There are so many better girls out there for him, so I doubt he even sees me more than a childhood best friend.”

Pause. 

“And there are better guys for you, out there, too,” Jake says softly. 

Before you’re able to process the harsh reality in Jake’s words, he hits you with another bullet—a brutal offensive straight to the heart. 

Jake takes a deep breath, determined. 

“I like you.”

Slowly, you look up to meet his eyes. The pair of brown eyes are filled with firm sincerity, as if he’s giving it all; never backing down. 

“Date me,” he says with a firm tone that tells you perfectly that he’s serious about it. “I’ll treat you better than anyone ever will.”

“I-I–” you stammer, unable to look Jake in the eye. 

“Try dating me for a month,” he suggests, his tone gentler than before, almost shaky. “I’ll show you how well I’ll treat you.”

You force yourself to meet Jake’s eyes—finding some desperation lingering around. He’s firm and resolute, yet you could actually hear his voice shaking. “If you still don’t like me after that, reject me. I’ll be content… with your decision.”  to be continued...

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ check out PART TWO

[codfishing]

Pairings: ghoap x single mom!reader

TW: just a fluffy meet-cute on Halloween

You were starting to lose hope as you tried to find a neighborhood that actually participated in Halloween; it was your favorite holiday and you wanted to make sure your kiddo’s first trick-or-treating experience was a good one.

But you found a bustling neighborhood and your spirits lifted as you parked your car along the edge, happily unbuckling your daughter and making your way into the neighborhood.

Your daughter was fascinated by everything, and was surprisingly unfazed by the decorations, including the scarier ones, and she was especially interested in the costumes of the people milling about the neighborhood.

She was especially interested in the man dressed as a skeleton sitting at the end of his driveway with another man whom you assumed was his husband dressed in a kilt.

You waited at the edge of the driveway and told your daughter what to say, and she immediately went up to the man in the skeleton costume, staring up at him silently as they both cooed over her Belle dress.

After a few moments you nervously called out, “Baby, it’s rude to stare. What do we say?”

“Thank you!” She said loudly, prompting another laugh from the two men and you take a couple steps forward, smiling.

“No no, sweetie, say ‘trick or treat’,” You corrected gently, smiling more as she held out her kitty cat bucket and repeated the words.

“It’s alright,” The man in the kilt said with a Scottish accent (you honestly were less surprised by the accent than you were the mohawk) as he grinned up at you.

He eyed you up and down as your daughter was preoccupied with running her fingers over his partner’s skeleton gloves, and the Scot asked, “No costume?”

You laughed nervously. “Didn’t have time to put one together. It’s not for lack of want, I promise.”

He hummed and smiled again, reaching out a hand. “I’m Soap, and this is my husband, Ghost.”

You took his hand and shook it as you introduced yourself too, raising an eyebrow after pulling away. “Interesting names.”

Ghost looked up then, shooting a playful glare at his husband before looking up at you. “He means Johnny and Simon.”

You laughed at that and you could see Simon’s cheeks lift under his balaclava adorned with a half-skull before he went back to having a small conversation with your daughter, making your heart flutter slightly.

“Want a treat too?” Johnny asked then with a grin. “We’ve got jell-o shots for the parents.”

“Ooh,” You sounded before hesitating. “Sure, one won’t hurt.”

Johnny stood up then and disappeared into the dark entryway of their house, reappearing moments later with two of the small containers. He handed one to you and you were about to tuck it away into your sweatshirt pocket when he scoffed playfully.

“Come on, bonnie,” He said, nodding towards you with a grin. “You don’t wanna be walking around with that all night, do you? Take it with me.”

With a sigh, you smiled and opened the shot, tapping the plastic container against his when he reached out and downing the jell-o shot while trying to ignore his tongue releasing the lime green jell-o from the plastic, though it was hard to as he kept his eyes on you while he did it.

You could feel your cheeks flushing slightly and were grateful for the darkness shrouding your pink face, handing the empty cup back to him when he offered.

“That’s a girl,” He praised, leaving you more flustered.

Another group of costumed kids came up and you immediately remembered where you were, crouching down next to your daughter.

“Come on, sweetie; there’s other kids who want a turn,” You said gently, reluctantly pulling her away from Simon with an apologetic smile.

Their eyes lingered on you as you bade them goodbye with a wave that they both returned, their smiles widening as your daughter waved as well and loudly said goodbye.

The short interaction lingered in the back of your mind as you walked through the neighborhood, making the rounds and ending up on the other side of the street after a while.

As you walked along towards the next house, you heard, “Oi, bonnie!”

Looking up, you realized you were across the street from Simon and Johnny’s house again, and Johnny was waving at you.

“Want another one?” He called out, his wide grin nearly glowing in the dark.

Your decision was made for you as your daughter pulled you towards the street, pointing towards them.

“‘S Simon!” She exclaimed excitedly and your heart melted, causing you to lead her across the street towards them. Though admittedly you weren’t complaining in the slightest by being around the two men again.

The large man crouched down, his smile obvious despite the mask hiding it. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Johnny moved to stand next to you after you paused, nudging another jell-o shot into your hand.

“Thanks,” You smiled before adding, “This is the last one though; I have to drive us back home.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You don’t live ‘round here?”

Shaking your head, you sighed and looked down at your daughter who was happily showing Simon the treats she had gotten so far.

“We don’t get trick-or-treaters at our apartment,” You explained, looking back up at Johnny. “And since it’s her first year, I wanted to make sure she had fun.”

Johnny blinked before grinning. “Well, let’s make it fun, eh?”

He moved to set down the large bucket of candy he had been holding and you stared in shock. “What?”

Straightening up, Johnny nudged Simon’s shoulder before looking back at you.

“Come on, there’s a street two blocks over that’s got more people,” Johnny explained as Simon stood up as well. “We’ll show you.”

Your brain put two and two together and you started stumbling over your words. “Oh, you don’t need to do that! I’m sure we can find it and I don’t want to be a burden—“

“Nonsense,” Simon said then, leaning down to pick up your daughter when she reached out her arms to him, surprising you since you were usually the only one she let pick her up. “If it’s the little one’s first time, we want it to be as fun as possible for her.”

You looked between the two men, but again your daughter decided for you as she started babbling to Simon, who turned his attention to her and started walking off holding her tiny hand in his.

Johnny grinned down at you and nudged you again, leading you after Simon who was happily carrying her as if he hadn’t just met her twenty minutes before.

As you walked through the neighborhood, you learned that both Simon and Johnny were in the military, and that they had actually returned from a mission earlier that day (“Just in time for Halloween but not enough time to really do costumes,” Johnny explained somewhat sheepishly).

You ended up telling them about your divorce (Simon showed he was still listening to the conversation by adding comments here and there despite your daughter monopolizing his attention as she led him up to houses with her as you and Johnny waited at the end of the driveways), and how it was just the two of you now since your ex-husband decided he wanted nothing to do with your daughter. Neither of the men said anything on that but you saw the look they shared of anger and something else that you couldn’t quite discern in the darkness.

Halfway down the new street, your daughter decided it was Johnny’s turn to help her and she reached out for him instead, and you had to suppress a giggle at Simon’s jealous huff as he handed your little girl over to the beaming Scotsman.

As Johnny and your daughter started walking, Simon fell in step with you. You found that he was much quieter than Johnny but was still a great conversationalist, slipping in puns and horribly funny dad jokes when he could. He told you about how he and Johnny met in their unit, and told you about their teammates while you listened intently. He listened just as intently as you talked about your own job, asking questions here and there that showed he was actually interested in your writing career, which made your heart flutter again.

“You know,” You started after a not-uncomfortable lull in conversation as you both watched Johnny chase your daughter through a yard. “For a man who likes dad jokes, you missed the perfect opportunity for your costume with your callsign being ‘Ghost’.”

Simon blinked before his mask lifted as he smiled again. “I figured that would be too obvious.”

“Well next year I expect the right costume,” You teased, nudging him playfully.

“Oh yeah? Next year I expect any costume from you,” Simon teased back, giving you an obvious look up and down.

“Yeah yeah,” You laughed, waving him off as he chuckled next to you.

Johnny had managed to wrangle your giggling daughter and carried her back towards you two, breathing hard from having to chase her.

“Bloody hell, I thought I was in shape until I had to chase a toddler,” He huffed, causing you to laugh hard.

You noticed your daughter starting to whine and after checking your phone, you realized it was definitely past her bedtime and you felt guilty for getting lost in conversation with them.

“Alright, I think it’s time to call it a night,” You announced reluctantly, turning back slightly in the direction of your car. “I need to get her home before she falls asleep on your shoulder.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Johnny waved you off with a grin. “I don’t mind one bit.”

You smiled at that as they both followed you and you looked back at them, smiling fondly.

“I really do appreciate you two helping her out tonight,” I said gratefully. “I feel a little bad though about intruding on your night.”

“It’s fine, lovie,” Simon spoke up in a warm voice. “Couldn’t have asked for two better intruders.”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, still feeling a little guilty for highjacking their night. Your daughter was passed out on Johnny’s shoulder by the time you reached the car and he handed her off to you before stepping back with Simon.

As you buckled her into her carseat, you could hear Simon and Johnny conversing quietly behind you but you couldn’t catch any of what they were saying.

By the time you straightened up and closed the door, it was just Simon standing there and he chuckled at your questioning look.

“Johnny ran up to the house real quick,” He explained. “He’ll be back shortly.”

“Got it,” You said before smiling. “Thanks again, Simon. It was really wonderful meeting the two of you.”

He smiled under his mask and pulled you into a tight hug much to your surprise, but you returned it with a contented noise and briefly wondered if it would be weird to say you wanted to hang out with them again.

As he finally released the hug, Johnny jogged back up to you two and shoved something into your hand.

“Another treat for when you get home,” Johnny said with a wink before pulling you into a tight hug as well. “Drive safe, lass.”

You nodded and the three of you said your goodbyes before you got into your car, trying to not wake your daughter as you turned it on and started driving away.

It wasn’t until you were at the first stoplight that you looked at the ‘treat’ Johnny had given you, pausing when you realized there was a piece of paper taped to the top of the jell-o shot, and you opened it curiously.

The car behind you had to honk to get you out of your frozen state as you stared down at the note.

We hope to see you and the little one again soon, bonnie; call us when you want to be taken out for dinner—the new stepdads

Part 2

[lightseoul]

hi! please could you do number 7 with the mc having a ghost-related quirk??

decided to quickly write this one just in time for halloween! i hope y'all enjoy this little piece amidst the boop war we all find ourselves in right now lol. thank you for playing n have a nice day <3

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

7. "THE GHOSTS WOULD DISAGREE WITH YOU." (1.3k)

“you’re a fucking weirdo, you know that?”

you don’t even look up from the churro you’re munching on, opting to ignore the ash-blonde sitting right next to your left.

“what,” he continues, and if you didn’t know any better, he’s starting to sound a little annoyed. “you’re not even gonna defend yourself?”

what you’re not about to do is tell him you’ve heard that taunt over and over again growing up, lest you end up seeming pitiful, which you aren’t.

so you merely shrug. “i don’t see the point. i know it’s not true.”

at that, you finally glance at the man, who’s looking nothing short of speechless under the dim light of the lounge that’s decked out with ‘spooky’ embellishments.

cute is the first thing that comes to mind.

he just fucking insulted you is the next.

still, you can’t help the smile that takes over your features. “you’re the weird one, anyway. why would you say that to your date?”

bakugou promptly breaks eye contact, choosing to stare at the human skeleton that’s conveniently parked at the corner of the room. you follow his line of vision, and you have to stop yourself from snorting at the sight.

the people manning this haunted house-themed attraction sure took budget decorating to the next level.

beside you, the pro-hero huffs. “i’m only saying that because this is your idea of a good first date,” he gestures vaguely to your surroundings, an incredulous expression on his face as he tosses you a pointed look. “a horror escape room? really?”

“what?” you say, trying to sound the slightest bit defensive for the sake of it. “it gives us plenty of excuses to get closer.”

whatever bakugou expected you to say in response, it surely wasn’t that.

the man only splutters, quickly diverting his gaze and plopping back against his seat with his muscled arms folded across his broad chest like a petulant child.

he then mutters something that you wouldn’t have caught for the life of you if it weren’t for the thing.

you grin.

“you wanted me to latch onto you for safety? you could’ve just said so.”

almost instantaneously, bakugou whips to stare at you, an absolutely horrified expression etched all over his face.

“what the fuck?”

you flash him the most innocent look you can muster. “what?”

he’s now glaring at you, but there’s no missing the redness that has crept up the high planes of his cheeks. he opens his mouth as if to say something but hesitates. he tries again, gaze fixated on you for a couple more seconds until he shakes his head in disbelief.

“…there’s no fucking way.”

you shrug again, but bakugou only stares at you, eyes squinting in suspicion. “unless…”

and, in a blink of an eye you almost could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at him yourself, you see profound realization dawn on his features.

you gulp despite yourself.

“you have a fucking quirk?”

the truth must have been written all over your exterior, because the man leans back in slow motion like the way one would when faced with a relatively shocking revelation.

you rub at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling too self-conscious. this was the part that always made you feel uncomfortable, no matter what the context.

but especially during a first date.

“i never said i was quirkless…”

“yeah, no shit,” he retorts, not missing a single bit. “what is it, superior hearing or something?”

you shake your head slowly, “no, but it does make me privy to things that i don’t perceive with my own senses.”

bakugou’s eyebrows furrow in what you think is confusion. “what else?”

“uh—” you pause, eyes drifting down to your fiddling fingers, “—i can also levitate, be invisible, and permeate through things.”

when he doesn’t say anything for a moment, you finally chance a glance at the man, and he’s looking honest-to-god gagged.

pro-hero dynamight is fucking gagged and it’s because of you.

before he can get a word in, though, you quickly follow it up with: “but they make me so nauseous that i can barely pull them off. they’re useless, really.”

when you’re met with nothing but silence, you continue.

“i know,” you chuckle, although it comes out awkward and stilted. “it’s weird. you’re right, after all. i was just messing with you.”

more silence.

not knowing what else to do or say, you take a huge bite of your pastry, although you’re far from hungry, stomach now churning in embarrassment.

you’re in the middle of chewing the remnants of your last bite when bakugou finally speaks up.

now, you’ve heard about how the #9 pro-hero, despite his aggression and temper and generally unpleasant personality, is exceptionally intelligent, perceptive, and intuitive, but you never really thought much about it.

not even when you found out a few hours earlier that the blind date your friends set you up with was your distant superior dynamight himself.

and while you always had a thing for capable men, you didn’t want to fall early and hard lest you hurt yourself in the process. so you merely pushed back against the prejudices and expectations you had of him, and decided to just observe the person who was actually in front of you for the rest of your date.

but when he says the next thing, everything you’ve heard about him suddenly makes sense.

“…so it’s a ghost quirk.”

you don’t even get the opportunity to choke on your churro or gape at him because bakugou shakes his head so fervently, before: “that’s such a fucking waste.”

“e-excuse me?”

at your query, he locks eyes with you. “you have a strong-ass quirk, yet you’re working in admin for us. you could be doing more.”

a thousand questions fight to escape your lips, but what manages to emerge victorious is: “how’d you know i’m working admin for ground riot?”

bakugou scowls at you, but again, there’s that scarlet on his cheeks. he doesn’t answer your question, though, instead going for: “that’s your fucking takeaway?”

you shrug, not knowing what else to say. “i know my quirk is strong. but i was always made to feel like i was weird and creepy for it growing up—and until now, actually, which is why i don’t really talk about it—so i just learned not to use it.”

“well, most of it,” you add, and bakugou cocks his head to the side in question.

you take a shaky inhale.

“…ghosts still choose to talk to me.”

“that how you pick up on things beyond your five senses?”

you try not to gawk at him and at how fast he put two and two together. “…yeah.”

neither of you says anything for a few moments before bakugou finally shifts in his seat, rolling his shoulders back.

as he does so, he pipes up with: “well, i guess they’re not always accurate, though.”

you frown. although you rarely use your quirk, you still pride yourself in your capacity. “what do you mean?”

at that, bakugou turns to regard you, an unidentifiable expression on his face. “i did not want you to latch onto me.”

this time, you really can’t help it. you snort, and that grants you a glower from the pro-hero. you take it in stride, though, waving him off.

“sure, big guy.”

“don’t—” he sits up, “fucking—i’m serious—”

“yeah, but the ghosts—” he throws you a punch, which you dodge, “would disagree—” you dodge another, “ with you—” he barely misses you, “—though,” you finally finish.

and really, you don’t even need your trusty ghosts to know that—the blush that’s taken over the entirety of his face is all the proof you need.

[grimoirguestbook]

Book of Bill Website Codes

(Organized by category with notes)

Here's my list of inputs that work on the website :)

Hopefully the read more works like I think it does and I don't accidentally spoil anybody

That being said by clicking read more you will see All of the codes I have found so far

Please be mindful and try not to spoil anybody else with this information. So please be careful if reblogging

I got everything I have collected/found on here, it's a bit messy right now but After I take a small break I'll reorganize and add notes but for now everything's on here, please so check out the posts linked in the log as once I lost all leads I looked to their post for other inputs :)

Also feel free to put any you know of that Aren't on here in the replies I'm sure there's some missing

I will be updating as I find more so check back in if you can! :)

Thank you!

They'll be categorized by

Neat Tv text- Nothing special the tv just gets some text to it

Tab pages-brings you to another tab/website

Audio/video- Audio/video clip plays

Readables- A picture will pop up on screen that you can read

Printables- You can print them :D!

Other- Hard to categorize

Note:

If an * is next to a name that means that you can get different results for the same prompt

(Any personal notes will be in parenthesis)

-> An arrow means that the Passwords are found in the previous page

ex- Page with code that translates to "dork"-> Dork

Slashes/mean/that/any/of/the/prompts/listed/will/take/you/to/the/same/page

Blue text with an underline is a link! Haha! would you look at that! it works!

Will Keep this updated as I find more and will Note the logs at the end of this post

?????

For the mason page anagrams I know WHO they are I just don't know WHAT to do with them, i know it says cryptogram codex at the bottom i think i have to do something with the anagram results but I'm unsure what that is. Stanford Pines Stanlie Pines Gideon Charles Gleeful Preston Northwest Pacifica Elisa Northwest

Notes to Dipper Prompt: (Unsure why- Maybe going to Blind eye page and blurring it but changes from dipper being told to stare at the sun to "I THINK ITS WORKING! STARE HARDER! HARDER!" and the page looking burnt I Think it has to do with how many input codes you enter, It now says "you've almost solved it" and is even more burnt than before, it is now full black)

Neat Tv text-

Pines

Blendin

*Triangle

Axolotl

Ducktective

Book of Bill

TJ Eckleburg (Great Gatsby)

Nothing

Something

*Ciphertology

Deer Teeth

Scalene

Scrimbles

No

Fortnite/skibidi/ohio/rizz/crypto/elon/gyatt/Doge

Life

Death

Portal

Question

Answer

Euclid

*Well Well Well Being

Reality

The Universe

Journal 1

Journal 2

Journal 3

Theyll see/They'll all see/I see

Filbrick

Disney/Disneyland/Mickey Mouse

CIA/FBI/NSA

333 Sundapple Lane Cozy Creek IL 60714-94611

Season 3

Season 2

Season 1

Caryn

Euclydia

Skeleton

Who are you

Burnside

Family matters

When will I die

Multilevel mark/caesaratbashvigenere

Scientology

Easter egg

Sevral times

oh yes they both

Am i Blanchin

Bye gold

Youre insane

History

Hologram

Scalene

Euclid

Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Text Chain (You get questions who's answer is another password)

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> 333 sundapple lane cozy creek IL 60714-94611-> MutliLevel mark->emmaline butternubbins->Dispense my treat

What i thought it was (with answer sources):

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Answers found in TBOB- Don't Know, NA, Mcguckets dream page, Medieval page, Anti-Cipher Section- tonic page, Anti Cipher Section- Newspaper, Top Secret page, Textbook page- Skin, Dark Ages Page, Anti Cipher Section-Epilogue, A winter break- footprints page, Book of Bill Cover options page, Never trust a wizard page, Have you dreamed this fellow ad (references informercial in show)

Tab pages-

Abuelita

Dippy Fresh

Alex Hirsch/Alex/Hirsch

*Stan/Stanley (his outfit in ebay searches plus a READABLE with SICK music mind you-Check readable section for more info)

Grunkle Stan

*Gideon (second option unlocked after fully "mableizing" the room)

Waddles

Mcgucket/ Old man McGucket/Fiddleford

Bill/Cipher/LLIB/LLIBREHPIC

Bill Cipher/Rehpic

Zyler (Goes to same place as Craz)

Craz (Goes to same place as Zyler)

Toby Determined

Gravity Falls

Mystery Shack

Not a phase

Blanchin

Peak

Cray Cray

Fixinit1

Meow

Fuck alex/Fuck you alex

Globnar

Monster

Audio/video-

Babba/Discogirl

*Gideon (unlocked after fully "mabelizing" the room)

Tad Strange

Pinata (DEFINATELY WORTH WATCHING)

Vallis Cineris (Found on wall when lightning strikes)

Hey Nerd

Weird (Love him)

Spookemups/Spooky/Scary

That's just a/Theory/Gametheory/Matpat (<3)

One Eyed King-> Naitsuaf (Morse Code) ( early years page)

Forget the past

Im still on your mind

Dorito/Nacho

Just fit in

Rubberhose

Love/Boyfriend

Hectoring

Conspiracy

God/Frillium/Help me

Burned inside

Kook

Kubrick

Small/audio log/music (nothing showed up at first, turned off tv and strange audio played, needs to be reversed)

L is real 2401 (soos my boy)

Readables-

Mason (Dippers real name)

*Dipper (personal notes in ???- keep opening the card to get different results)

Pacifica-> PlatinumPaz

Ford/Standford/Sixer

Wendy

Robbie (def worth a look IMO)

Soos-> Pinata

Cursed (Translated from candle in background)

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Blind Eye->Theyll see (Will blur if clicked on, cannot un-blur, may change dipper?)

Weirdmageddon

Lies

Sorry

Booberry (Decoded from popsicle stick)

Even his lies are lies (Front paper)

Tantrum ( code on Bills Mugshot page)

Suck it Merlin

Shave your Grandma (leads to dippy fresh page)

Baby Bill/baby/lalalalala/daddy/mommy

Owl Trowel

Hotxolotl->Seven eyes-> r34lity

Love ya bro

Fuck/Shit/Fuckyou/bitch/slut/sex

Baaaa-> Black Sheep

naitsuaf (click are you ready-> Sign "pleasure doing business with you -candle light turns blue- OR be a coward (losing sound effect plays)

oroborous-> Frillium

Glass sand beach

math/trigonometry/

horror/creepypasta

destruction is a form of creation

unreality

you can't kill an idea

virus

Occurremusiterum

*Stan (click multiple times to get-once there click "how he beat me several times)

Card

Theraprism

Dionarap->stod eht tcennoc

Printables-

Tyrone/Clone/Paperjam

Curse Wittebane (translates runes on page about witches)

Paper is just book skin ( BE WARNED: automatically downloads a photoshop file and crashses the cite)

Irregular (has code on it)

Divorce/breakup

Other-

Mabel (You get fun stickers and a popping sound :) )

*Giffany ( You put her name in multiple times and it forcibly downloads pictures of her and a text document to your computer, scared me a little Not gonna lie here)

Kings of New Jersey (downloads "secret code" font)

cryptogram codex (downloads cryptogram fonts)

dispense my treat-> Kook (downloads a bunch of cool wallpapers)

Log:

One hour after posting: Added 17 new words

Found by me: Booberry, Mountain Dont, Xgqrthx, titans blood, lyre liar, haralds ramblings, union made

Accidentally found by looking at a post: Sorry

Gifted by replier (Thank you!): MATPAT, yes, no, Fortnite, life, death, portal, question, answer

30 minutes after last update: 9 Words added

Found by me: Theraprism, 29121239168518, Grebley Hemberdreck, Rat, 3466554, Tinsel Snake, Torture Mentally, Fordtramarine, Gun (shocked that worked It was a joke- "bill cipher has A GUN")

Like THREEEEEEE ish hours later?

Found by me: one eyed king, well well well being, shave your grandma, paper is just book skin, even his lies are lies, forget the past, irregular, euclid, tantrum, suck it merlin

Like 12 hours later

Found by me: Reality, Baby Bill, Reality, The universe, Giffany (why is it two Fs, Blarg) They'll see, I'm still on your mind, Journal 1, Journal 2, Journal 3

Gifted to me by a replier (Thank you!): Owl Trowel

Idk- Later

Found by me: hotxolotl, lova ya bro, kings of new jersey, fuck, just fit in

Found on twitter(JasonRitter): Dorito, Blanchin'

Gifted to me by Replier(Thank you!): Gideon's option knowledge

Even MORE later:

Me: Seven eyes, r34ality, filbrick, disney, skibidy, rizz, ohio, love, cia, fbi, rubberhose, 333 sundapple lane cozy creek il 60714-94611, bahhhh, black sheep, naitsuaf, oroborous,theyll see, theyll all see Frillium, occuremusiterum (some of these i gave myself because i was really close but just missed a small detail/spelling)

Taken from here and Here Because I got stumped: Season 3, Season2 , Season 1, Glass shard beach, caryn, Euclydia, Peak, Theory, Cray Cray, Help me, mickey mouse, hectoring, divorce, breakup, skeleton, math, history, monster, gyatt, who are you, fixinit1, conspiracy, riddle, cryptogram codex, horror, creepypasta, trigonometry, god, boyfriend,baby, lalalalala, scary, trigonometry,just blendin, morality, burnside, family matters, when will i die, elon, multilevel mark, goodnight sally,paper jam, tourist trap,the duchess approves,shape, scientology, meow, nacho, crypto,sevral times,easter egg, oh yes they both, daddy, mommy, burned inside, destruction is a form of creation, i see, unreality, you can't kill an idea, am i blanchin, fuck alex, fuck you alex, fuck you, shit, bye gold, nsa, globnar,disneyland,kook, kuibrick,virus,that's just a, you're insane

Next day

Found online: Dionarap, stod eht tcennoc, dispense my treat

[grandline-fics]

Can I ask for some luffy x femreader angst where they get knocked off the sunny and can't swim? Your writing is so good

DESCRIPTION: You get knocked off of the ship

WARNINGS: angst, comfort, good ending

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 1,322

A/N: Who can say no to some angst? Thank you for this request. I hadn't intended it to be this long but I'm happy with the result and hope you are too.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

Nothing is ever straightforward or as it truly seems on the Grand Line, anyone who goes there with that belief are swiftly taught the harsh lessons. If they are strong and adaptable enough then they get another day on the waters. If they aren’t? Then they either join the many ships and skeletons that are scattered beneath the waves or allowed to return to safer seas with their tails between their legs and dreams of adventures and fame broken along with their pride. As much as the Strawhats, and more-so their Captain are impulsive and quick to race headlong into their adventures, they respect the seas under Nami’s strict guidance. “It’s looking clear now but once we cross the boundary of the next island’s atmosphere it’ll most likely change.”

You all nodded at her warning, Nami was never wrong with these things. So when she made a statement like that you knew knew to make the most of the clear skies, bright sun, and calm sea now while you all could. As soon as you approached the boundary you would all be on guard until you knew for certain what the next island would bring you all. You stretched out from your spot on your deckchair and slowly sat up with a slow yawn building in your chest. You could have stayed lounging for a while longer but knew you were dangerously close to falling asleep, something you wanted to avoid just in case the next stretch of the journey required all hands on deck. Needing to stay alert you began to walk around in search of something to occupy you. 

There was no motivation to train in you just at the moment and it was too nice of a day to wander to the kitchen or go below deck to the library or bar. As you casually scanned the ship your gaze zeroed in on Luffy as he perched happily on Sunny’s head, his legs swinging lightly as his body all but vibrated with excitement. Nami’s mention of crossing the island’s boundary soon meant it would only be a matter of time before the island came into view and the next part of everyone’s adventure would continue. You couldn’t help but smile at Luffy’s infectious enthusiasm. “You bounce anymore you could fall into the ocean, Captain.” 

Luffy laughed at your teasing voice and turned to grin brightly at you. Almost immediately he moved his seat to allow you the room to sit comfortably on the lion’s head with him. When you joined him, Luffy’s smile grew wider. Together you both talked happily about what you thought the next island would bring, guessing what there was to explore and see. You only broke the conversation when you felt that the sun had gotten a little dimmer than it had been and felt the ship lightly sway. Had the water gotten choppier? “We should probably head onto the deck. I think we’re nearly in the new territory.” You began as you slowly got to your feet again. The Sunny jolted as it hit a rougher swell of a wave and you swayed but managed to regain your balance. “The water’s changing fast, c’mon Luffy.”

Luffy nodded and reluctantly bounced to his feet. Ordinarily he would have just remained on Sunny’s head until the end but with you here, it made him just cautious enough to prioritise your safety over his lack of thought for his own. Luffy stepped behind you and planted a hand on your shoulder when another rocky wave surged the ship only this one was accompanied with a strong gust of wind. As expected Nami launched into action, calling for everyone to get to their positions as the storm rolled in seemingly from nowhere. “Luffy! We need you to-”

Usopp’s shout was swallowed by a shriek of wind but the beginning of his call was enough to snap Luffy’s attention for the briefest of seconds. At the same time an enormous wave slammed against the starboard side of the ship, showering seawater over you all and with enough force to tilt and rock the ship upwards and sideways at once. With Luffy distracted and the violent lurching of the Sunny, the two of you tumbled. Acting only on instinct you managed to grab a hold of Luffy’s collar and throw him onto the safety of the deck. However you were unable to save yourself and fell backwards into the darkening, swirling waters. 

Luffy scrambled to his feet, yelling out your name as he leant over the railing of the Sunny, eyes desperately searching the violent waves in search for you.You weren’t the strongest swimmer in the crew but even the likes of Sanji would have struggled to break through the surface in water like this. Sharply he turned to his crew who only just realised what had happened. “Jinbe! Save them!” His order was sharp and held none of his usual cheer. The helmsman wasted no time in leaping into the water while Luffy returned his panicked gaze to the water. “Come on…”

The seconds were an agonising wait, drawing out to the point it felt like an eternity. He didn't even know he’d been painfully holding his breath until Jinbe’s figure broke through the water and landed back onto the deck with you held securely in his arms. Chopper reached you first and took you into his care swiftly. When you let out a choking breath and rolled onto your side, Luffy was on you in an instant, hugging you tight and lifting you off the ground. Even when Chopper yelled at him to be gentle and let you go, Luffy only loosened his hold but still kept you in his grip; his eyes were steely and fixed only on you. 

“Luffy…I’m okay. Promise.” You spoke weakly and your hand reached out to touch his cheek, hating to see him so serious. Quickly you pulled your hand back when he flinched at the touch, fearing you’d overstepped with the usually affectionate Captain. It wasn’t your touch that Luffy took issue with, it was that your skin was so cold. Quickly he pulled you to your room and nudged you inside, only now letting your go fully. “You need to change.”

To hear Luffy so insistent and serious was something you weren’t used to but you could see the worry in his face and while you couldn’t speak you nodded and grabbed fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom to dry off and change. When you reappeared you paused to see Luffy pacing, a literal ball of nervous energy and biting the inside of his mouth harshly. This wasn’t the Luffy you knew and you could tell his thoughts were spiralling with memories he never liked to dwell on. With a small sigh you set your hand on his arm and pulled him to sit comfortably on your bed before settling down beside him, facing him fully. “Luffy, I’m safe. This isn’t like you.”

“You’re still cold…” Luffy mumbled, his eyes glancing down at your hand on his arm. He hated this feeling that was twisting in his body uncomfortably. Even worse he hated seeing you worry about him. With a frown he grabbed the blanket from your bed and wrapped it around your body tightly before pulling you close, his hands rubbing against your arm and back. Part of him told him it was just to get you warmed up. Another part of him felt it was for his unshakable selfishness of reassuring himself that you’re only safe with him. Then when you sank further into his hold and closed your eyes, Luffy felt himself finally begin to relax. Nothing was ever straightforward on the Grand Line, for one thing it could make a nasty way of making people have a closer look at their feelings whether they had been initially aware of it or not.

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait | part three

the end, y'all. thanks for waiting a year and some change for this. there are scenes in here that've been planned since april of 2023.

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead  series masterlist chapter summary: after two and a half successful dates, eddie's feeling pretty sure about your connection. but skeletons from his past rear their heads from the deep end, and some of your old wounds need some healing. fluff/angst/comfort. also, beach episode. cw: 18+ pls. smut (p in v, oral both receiving, blah blah blah). not full body mention but some insecurity for reader. reader does wear eddie's clothes but they're sleep clothes. miscommunication. some mild drinking and smoking.

Eddie stands tall on the diving block above the pool, looking down at his legs covered in hair, seeing the end of one of his tattoos peek out from the bottom of his trunks. He wiggles his toes, running a hand through his long hair. No longer eight, but thirty-two, standing on the diving block while the tinny metallic sounds of the YMCA pool echo around him. The chlorine and subtle must of the room wafts through him, over him, the sounds of the water moving while his swim lesson classmates slowly kick their legs back and forth plays in his ears.  But it’s not his classmates from the 90s. It’s his friends now; Gareth, Jeff, Steve, Robin, Alycia, Tati, Nance, Dustin, Lucas – the rest. They’re all watching him get ready to dive. Some look impatient, some look annoyed, some look curious at what he’ll do next.

“You can do it, kid!” Eddie hears Wayne’s gruff voice call from the seating overhead, “You can do it!”  He turns to see Wayne in his old Carhart jacket, at least ten years older than Eddie is and with not one thread out of place. Ed smiles and waves at him, a shot of confidence pumping through his chest at the sight of his uncle’s worn and weathered smile.  But there you are behind him and his confidence wavers. You smile shyly from your seat on the bench, waving small from your chest. Eddie blushes pink when he sees you sitting there, he doesn’t wanna belly flop if you’re watching.  “H-hi,” he calls out, waving back with an awkward toss of his arm. Your mouth says ‘Hi.’ back but he can’t hear you; the echoes of the pool becoming too loud for whatever you’re starting to say to him.

“What?” he calls out again, cupping his ear. His best friend classmates kick their legs faster, a rush of splashes drowning you out.  “You can do it!” he finally hears you encourage alongside Wayne, “Show me you can do it!” 

At the sound of the whistle he turns his attention back to the water, seeing Miss Tiffany’s bright red swimsuit straps on her shoulders. But Miss Tiffany’s head has been replaced; Chrissy stares back at him treading water with the whistle between her teeth.  “Ready, Freddie?” she asks, hand on the whistle again. Ice runs through him now, nerves, watching while Chrissy watches him. Suddenly he isn’t sure what the position to dive is, where to put his hands, how deep he should bend his knees. It’s been so long since he’s done this, since he’s had to prove himself like this in front of so many people – and now you’re watching too. 

“Uh-um…” he stutters, shuffling awkwardly, “Y-yeah one second.”  “C’mon Ed,” Chrissy says from the water, “You’re gonna get cold up there. Aren’t your feet cold?”  “What?” he asks from the block, another chill running through him. “Are you really not gonna dive, dude?” Steve asks from the edge of the pool, “I’ll dive again if you’re not gonna dive.”  “C’mon dude, just do it!” Gareth smiles, “She’s watching!”  “Uh…” he swallows hard, eyes darting from the water to the stands back to his feet on the white plastic of the block. 

“Ed,” Chrissy sighs, “Seriously? Don’t be boring. People are watching.”  “I’m not boring,” he bites back, “We weren’t boring.”  “Do you think you can really do it? You couldn’t do it for me,” Chrissy blows the whistle again, “Ed just dive. God, just grow up.”  Grow up… Eddie wakes up with a thumping heart; his throat tight with anxiety while he slowly turns onto his stomach. His room is still dark, the apartment a wash with silence with no light coming through the shades on his windows. Still night, still more time to dream.  And you were there, you were watching. Watching him waste time on the block instead of showing you what he can do. Watching him fumble over himself in front of Chrissy who can only feel more annoyed. How much longer were you open to waiting for him to jump? Was it already getting boring? Is the fun part over? He swallows hard in real life, letting a breath out through his nose while he tries to calm himself back to sleep. Eddie reaches for his phone with a flailing search under the covers and pillows; finding it wrapped in his sheets by his hips. His brown eyes squint into the light when he clicks the screen awake; four in the morning. Your name shines back at him in his text notifications, you messaged him two hours ago – he hates that you have so much trouble getting to sleep some nights. 

hey, i know you’re sleeping but i just wanted to let you know ahead of time that there’s a wrench in our sexy plans this weekend. i just got my period so i don’t think i can be very sexy. :( i’m sorry.

He doesn’t mean to, but he lets out a disappointed sigh that he’s glad you’re not around to hear. Getting older doesn’t mean the teenage boy in him that just wants to fuck isn’t disappointed to hear that there wasn’t going to be any fucking. 

This weekend was supposed to be different – you finally had a weekend where you weren’t on call for your boss. Eddie planned to spend every single moment of it in between your sheets so he could show you what he’d been thinking about since that first steamy phone call you had when you went to Arizona. And he knew you were thinking about it, too -- if your texts from last night had anything to say about it. Sending him Saweetie’s Back Seat on Spotify and Aaliyah’s Rock the Boat to give him an idea of where your head’s been since his own was between your legs. 

But he could only imagine it for now, both of your schedules not lining up again – either being too tired or not having time to settle in at each other’s places. Hiding away for a quick drink or two at the bar, kissing softly in the back where no one could see. Acting like two oversized kids who were trying to hide from their parents. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t spending his nights since Steve’s birthday playing the sound of your moans in his head over and over. Trying to remember the way your thighs quaked around his head, the way you gripped his hair, the way you tasted on his tongue. He can wait, he can totally wait.

Eddie wakes in the morning to the cool glow of a rainy day shining through his windows; feeling a giddy excitement reserved for 8th grade crushes on Valentine’s Day. Despite knowing that the weekend won’t be tossed in the throws of passion, he still spends at least forty five minutes in the bathroom, scooping body scrub out of Tati’s old tub of it when she got bored with the scent. In this life where Eddie always got someone's leftovers and hand-me-downs, these are by far his favorite ones.  His body is a new level of soft and smooth when he comes out, the closest shave of his face he’s ever gotten. As he spritzes his cologne, Tom Ford Ombre Leather, a gift from Steve, he looks himself over in the mirror before getting dressed. Two silver chains, small rings, a chain bracelet, skin nearly shimmering – tight black boxer briefs hugging his hips and upper thighs. He looks good. Hair waving perfectly, lips full and hydrated, lashes long and dark – he’d have a crush on him, too. 

Eddie stretches a bit, tugging on a pair of black chinos, still jingling with a layered wallet chain he forgot to remove before he washed them. He tucks the remainder into his back pocket when he hears his phone let off a ‘ding!’ on top of his dresser. He ignores it for a second, rifling through his closet for his favorite cut off tee that fits him just right. In his search he comes by a half empty box of condoms, boyishly sneaking two into his wallet with a snicker -- just in case. Eddie grunts when the phone dings again, walking over to see your name up on the screen. 

hey… His heart sinks, dream coming to reality – you’re gonna change your mind and say you don’t wanna see him anymore. You’re gonna tell him this was a mistake. You’re gonna tell him you don’t actually like him like that. You’re gonna tell him you have a crush on Steve. You’re gonna break his heart ten times over.

He lets out a breath or two to steady himself, fingers shaking while he texts you back.

what’s going on? you gotta work or something?

He watches while the bubble pops up of you typing back – disappearing and reappearing like you don’t know what to say. no, it’s not that. He sighs again, sweat forming on the back of his neck, heart thumping in his stomach. He never should’ve fucking dove, he never should’ve fucking kissed you outside the bar. He never should’ve bought you that fucking throw for your livingroom. what’s wrong? 

He watches the bubble start up again, dot-dot-dot, disappearing and reappearing. you didn’t respond to what i sent last night. i get it if you don’t wanna come over anymore.  He laughs, nervous release, running a hand over his face – he’s so fucking stupid. The release settles into guilt in his chest, you must be feeling as nervous as he is. He thinks about you waking up and seeing that he hadn't replied. Eddie chews on his lower lip while he types back.

oh no, no! i’m sorry. i saw your texts when i woke up in the middle of the night and forgot to respond. i’m not mad, you don’t have to be sorry. i still wanna come over.

is it okay if we don’t have sex? i just sort of feel like ass and like, tmi but it’s really heavy the first couple days why am i telling you this? wtf sorry

please stop being sorry, it’s okay if you want to just be by yourself that’s fine but i really would love to still come over, is that alright? i’d love to take care of you 

ew, you don’t need to take care of me

The speed that you send that makes him roll his eyes. He wonders if you know how clear it makes it that you want him so bad, how you're hoping he comes over and babies you the way you want him to.

i want to

🙄 gross, fine see you soon i guess key is behind the mailbox on the wall

He wastes no time getting in the Honda after he finishes getting dressed but a stir in his chest keeps him sitting in the driver’s seat while the car runs. As he holds the key to the ignition, Eddie takes pause. He swallows, a whisper of fear sitting in his heart – should he even like you this much? He knows you both said it, that you really like each other. But is this too much too fast? Is this too many cards on the table? He thinks to the dates before he met you where things fizzled out early. Maybe he should pull back a little, he doesn’t want you to get bored. He doesn’t want to be boring the way things started to feel boring with his ex-wife. He huffs, remembering his dream, Chrissy’s face in the water. Chrissy’s face while he helped her pack before she left. Chrissy’s face when she told him maybe they should start trying and he said maybe it was still too soon. Chrissy’s face when she told him she’d think it’d be better if they got a divorce.

He pulls in his cheeks, heart sinking while he thinks ahead to a fake memory he’s already convincing himself will happen. Imagining the day you pull away when he tries to hold you, the day he sees you in the morning and his heart doesn’t flutter. The day you tell him -- no matter how encouraging you'd been in the car, how interested you seemed in his life, how much you liked that he was so passionate about his friendships -- that he needed to grow up, too. What if he never grows up? What if he never dives again? 

He lets out a breath that still slightly steams in front of him in the cold air of early spring, giving his face a once over in the rearview before the car whirs to life. Megadeth’s We’ll Be Back jolts him back to the present moment, knowing that at least this weekend you really fucking like him and he really fucking likes you. 

“Hey Thumbelina,” he teases from the door frame of your bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with his overnight bag dangling off his shoulder. Your apartment is small and cozy, the radiator in the corner hissing quietly while your light curtains flutter in the breeze of your slightly open window.

“Hm?” you ask, looking up. Your sleepy face sends his heart hurtling, even more so when you make the connection of whose there – a smile breaking across your face. It makes his cheeks blush a boyish pink while he resists the urge to climb on top of you and smother your face in kisses. When you look at him and he looks at you, the fear he felt in the car feels like a false flag. The dream a reminder of hard feelings long past. When you're in front of him like this, nothing has ever felt more right in his whole life. He could get used to this.

“You’re laying down in the middle of a leaf,” he says, forehead tilting toward the monstera leaf print of your duvet while walking forward to sit at the end of our bed. He reaches out to grab your fuzzy sock covered foot and gives it a squeeze, “Like Thumbelina.” 

You roll your eyes and laugh, turning to your other side and looking at him. Your perfume or body spray wafts through the room, mixed with the scent of dryer sheets from your freshly washed bedding. It’s clear from the state of things that you spent most of your night last night making sure the place looked like it was never ever messy. 

“You look handsome,” you say softly, his blush reddens, “I feel ugly.” 

“You don’t look ugly. If you want, I can downgrade the ‘fit,” he offers, looking you over and smirking at your oversized men’s sweatpants and home-made cropped sleep shirt, “Want me to change? We can be twins.” You nod and laugh the way he likes, "Twins? You got a crop top in that bag?"

"Nah, I'm fresh out," he scrunches his nose, "It's at the cleaners."

"Lame," you shrug, "Well, m'sorry you gotta see me like this. I look like a troll."

“Trolls actually have a pretty high natural armour class so -- it's not the worst thing you can be,” he explains while opening his bag to grab his sleep clothes. "Oh, wow," you start, with a pitying voice, "You're like, really a nerd huh?" "They also can regenerate which like, for a monster of their type is pretty cool. Pretty great perception too -- which like, would make sense y'know considering their surroundings? Good for survival sk...I should stop," he turns pink when he sees your smile, lower lip tucking into your teeth to hold off a giggle. "I'm really cool," he says, "I swear." "I know," you nod with an assured look, laughing, "Go change."

He leans forward, running a hand over your back while he surveys your side tables. Eddie didn’t think the movies always had it right about the 'time of the month', but the litter of candy wrappers, snacks, Advil, and three different drinks made him stand corrected. He presses a kiss by your ear, murmuring a quiet reminder that he’ll be right back.

When he does, you’re back on your side, scrolling through videos on your phone, snuggled under the green throw blanket he bought you when you went on your Target date a few weeks ago. He apprehensively sits on the edge of the bed, watching you, teeth gleaming in a smile when you beckon him over with your hand. He molds to you expertly, knees curling in to tuck behind your own, arm snaking around your waist to pull your back to his chest.

“Is this okay?” he asks quietly. You nod, sinking into him while your body relaxes. He swallows when your body pushes back a little, your hips wiggling in a way that brushes against him just the right way – and he’s not wearing pants that can hide what that might do to him anymore. When you settle, he does too, taking you in. Your body heat, the way you feel against him, how you smell. You smell so fucking good. How do you manage to smell so fucking good all the time? He could eat you and never feel full. “What’re we watching?” he asks, chin resting on top of your head. 

“The scoopability of this week’s slimes,” you laugh. He reaches over to push your hair slightly out of the way of his view. Your neck stretches when his fingertips graze it accidentally, a wave of goosebumps appearing on your arm in front of him. Your neck, huh? He thinks to himself, a subtle smirk flicking onto his lips. He knew from last time you had a spot, but learning the intricacies of you was even more exciting. Where did you really like to be touched? How did you like to be held? There was still so much more to learn, there was no chance he could ever get bored.

“What does that even mean?”

“They make slimes, they scoop them, they rate the scoop,” you shrug, “It doesn’t get any more complicated than that.”

“Uh, okay…cool,” he nods, it’s clear he has no idea what you’re talking about. He watches while the soothing music plays, an ice cream scoop goes through multiple multi-colored and different textured ‘slimes’ with a rating ‘1/10’ flashing on the top of the screen. Some are smooth, some crunchy, some full of weird little add ons that he doesn’t understand. You play one video after another on your phone, thumbing through them on Tiktok like this is a regular pastime for you.

“This is actually kind of nice,” he says after the third clip, “Soothing.”

“Right?” you reply, “I think this account is my favorite, but, I’m never really paying attention to whose videos they are – just that they’re pretty.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, hand slowly caressing the dip of your waist, “But also like, wouldn’t all those little glitters and stuff get stuck in your teeth?”

You pause, putting your phone down and turning your head to him slowly. He lets his hand slide further over your diaphragm while you turn to face him, your face contorted in confusion – you almost look concerned.

“I’m sorry…” you start with a furrowed brow, “Did you think they were edible?” 

“Are -- wait -- are they not?” he asks, genuinely bewildered. “It’s slime…” “Okay, well half of them have food names,” he shrugs, embarrassment building on his cheeks as he tries to explain, “Like, ‘mango peach slushie’, how am I supposed to think it’s not..that?”

“It’s not food,” you laugh, “Oh god, you’re so lucky you’re hot.” He gives you a little shove, laughing with you while you turn your whole body towards him under the blanket. Chest to chest. He breathes you in delicately, eyes coasting over your face in soft and sweet admiration.

“It’s sort of like silly putty.” “Oh, like, to play with,” he nods in understanding, noses nearly brushing when he peers into your eyes, "I'm really 0 for 2 today." “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s an easy mistake," your voice a calming rasp, pushing some hair out of his face,

Your fingers feel so soft against him that he shuts his eyes, trying as much as he can to savor the feeling of being so close to you. Finally a moment where he can hold you as close as he wants, kiss you as deep as he needs to, and there’s no bartender or bystander around to make either of you feel weird about it.

“I like that I’m here with you,” he says contentedly, “This is really nice.” 

“I like that you’re here with me, too,” you grin. His hand comes up from its place on your waist to slide to the back of your neck, thumb running back and forth slowly over the edge of your jaw. Eddie falters a bit when you relax into his touch, moving in closer to him. One of your legs hikes up, your plush thigh resting over his hip – he holds back a groan as you wrap yourself around him.

“Comfy?” he asks. His voice is gruff with the stretch of wrapping himself around you in return, nose tip to tip with yours.

You nod, hiding your face in his neck while he lays a short row of kisses by your ear where he can reach, “Good.”

You lay together like that for a couple of minutes in the cool dark of your room, semi-sheer curtains drawn on this cloudy day so you don’t feel so bad about not going outside.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks into the quiet, “Please?”

“You can kiss me,” you nod with a giggle, “Always." Always.

As he leans in, lips ghosting against yours as a precursor for a deep needy kiss, Eddie’s phone buzzes and he turns to your snack-ridden side table to check it. An unknown number glows back at him up at the top of the screen, “Ah, shit...”

“What’s up?” you ask, pushing up on your arms to stretch out your back and sternum. He smiles at you while he gets up from off your bed.

“I ordered Indian food. You said you’re a saag paneer girl, right?” he asks with a tilt of his head before heading out of your room to the front door. 

You lay there with full bellies, clicking through to soulDecision’s Faded music video on your journey of ‘Weirdo Hits from the 90s/2000s’. Back in your snuggling positions, he can tell you feel safe with him, your eyelids heavy while your head lays on his chest. “I can’t believe I knew every word to this song,” you mumble, “I was like seven.” 

“Liquid Dreams is worse,” he barters, fingers running over the side of your head, just above your ear.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, “I forgot about Liquid Dreams. That’s next.” 

You get through LFO and O-Town’s top hits, settling on Samantha Mumba’s ‘Gotta Tell You Tonight’ which bleeds into Mandy Moore’s ‘Candy’.

“Oh wow,” Eddie huffs a laugh, “Chris did this with her best friends for the talent show when we were super little. I think that’s when I started having a crush on her.” 

He feels your head tilt up to look at him and he looks down, “Who’s Chris?” 

“Oh,” he says, his chest deflates, “My um, that’s my ex-wife. Chrissy.” 

“Oh yeah, you said,” you nod, leaning up on your elbows. You flop to your stomach and stare up at him, the pad of his finger coming up to lazily tap you on the nose.

“I know you said things were like, okay – but do you guys still talk at all?” you ask, head dipping with an devilish smirk, “Or do we hate her? What’s the gossip?” 

Eddie lets out a hiss of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair from the temples upward, shaking his head, “Oh no, I don’t think I could ever hate her.”

“It’s not like she did anything wrong,” he explains, brows knitting together while he thinks about how to explain it, “We just wanted really different things. She really wanted to settle down and like, y’know, nest. She wanted to be a mom so bad and I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t ready for a lot of things she wanted. In a way, we just sort of outgrew each other – but y’know, sometimes that happens.” 

“It’s funny,” he says with a slight smile, licking his lips, “I was so nervous about being on the apps thinking I was gonna see her profile – forgot she’s fully engaged. Like, I’ve met the guy.”

“Engaged?” you ask with your brows raised, “Scandalous. When did you guys divorce?”

“Pfff, hmm,” he thinks, puffing a breath of air from his cheeks, “We broke up and separated in September of 2020, divorce was filed – hmm, I think officially in January 2021? It was such a blur I can barely remember, we count our divorce as September at least.” 

“And when did she get engaged? Or meet this guy? Is he cool? Or is he like – lame?” you ask, rapid fire.

“Is this a soap opera to you?” he laughs. 

“It’s your lore,” you say, flipping onto your back, “And let’s be real, your lore is kind of soap opera-y.”

“What about your tragic lore, hm?” he presses, “When am I gonna get some of that?”

“We’ll get there one day,” you say with a tilt of your head, lips tucking in breifly. You welcome his arms when they circle around you, his weight shifting as he mimics your cuddling from before. His thigh slings over your hips, wrapping around you like a koala while his lips press against your cheek. 

“It’s gonna be hot next weekend,” he says, nose nuzzling at your temple, “Steve wants to get the crew together to go to the beach. Do you wanna come?” 

Your eyes flutter closed but you nod just the same. “Good,” he smirks, voice dropping to something a little husky, “You can wear that little red suit for me.” 

“Ew,” you let out before you can stop it, your giggles shaking you in his arms, “Perv.” “Yeah?” he smirks, leaning in to kiss just under your ear, “Even though you sent me all those pictures?”

Your eyes shut when he kisses you there, a tiny gasp leaving your lips when he does it a second time. His tongue flicks out, tip of it drawing a thin line from the top of your neck to the hinge of your jaw.

“Ed, I don’t wanna have sex,” you pout.

“I know,” he smiles into your cheek, “I just like teasin’ you.” 

“Well don’t,” you pout, gently shoving his face away from your cheek in faux frustration,  “So unfair.”

You ease up onto your side, leaning over back to your laptop to scroll through the recommended music videos until you land on Savage Garden’s Crash and Burn. “Oh, fuck me,” he laughs, “I don’t think I’ve heard this song since 1999.” “The music video used to freak me out when I was little,” you settle back into him when it starts and he welcomes the weight of you against him. “Yeah it’s kind of freaky for a kid,” he nods, arm wrapping around you while darkness begins to find home in your bedroom, “I mean look how fucking blue this guys eyes are – terrifying.” The sound of your laugh bubbles like the girls at Forest Hills used to sound in the summer. The room starts to darken as the sun goes down, leaving you both in a glow of your laptop screen. “You know, we could watch these in the living room on the TV,” you laugh, sitting up. Eddie pouts when you shift out of his hold, pulling you back down into him. “Yeah, but I like this,” he mumbles, “I wanna hold you like this.”  “Okay,” you snort, flipping back to your side to face him, “But you never told me about the guy she ended up with. Is he cool? Is he weird? Does he suck? When did she meet him?”

“You’re so annoying,” he teases with a shake of his head.

“So cute though, unfortunately,” you shrug, “So you have to tell me.” 

“It’s true, you’re so cute,” he nods, leaning in to offer you a soft kiss on your lips and forehead, “I guess I’ll tell you.”  

“She met Derek I think – errr – six months after we separated? One of those, ‘when you know, you know’ type of things – she even called to ask if it was okay if she went on a date with him.” “That’s kind of fucked up, rubbing salt in the wound,” you shrug. 

“No,” he shakes his head again, sitting up with his back against the wall, “You don’t know her, so like – it sounds fucked up, but she just wanted to be courteous about it. Didn’t want me finding out through the grapevine or whatever. Anyway, they got engaged last May.” “Is he a tool?” you ask again, face scrunching like you might already know.

“No, he’s – he’s very much her kind of guy now that I think about it,” he laughs, “They live in Denver now I think, used to be Chicago, super outdoorsy. He cycles professionally, I think – works in tech. She’s running a yoga studio out there while she gets her masters.” “In what?” 

“Art therapy,” he recounts softly, a gentleness in his tone, “She’s a really gifted painter, it helped her through a lot of shit. Got her undergrad in psych so – she’s always wanted to get her license. She’s just really meant to make people feel good about themselves and help them, I’m happy for her.”

“Okay, so she’s Mother Theresa,” you joke, “Can’t relate.” 

“Mother Theresa if you put some strawberry blonde hair on her and made her a cheerleader,” he laughs, pulling out his phone. He pulls up a few photos, one from prom, a few from after shows, one from early Covid, “This is her.” 

“Oh, wow…” you say wistfully, the glow of the screen lighting up your face. Chrissy’s face and body reflecting back in your eyes like a mirror, “She’s gorgeous.” 

“Yeah, can’t believe she was obsessed with a dork like me,” he teases himself, putting his phone back in his pocket, “I couldn’t believe I pulled someone like that – still can’t.” 

“Hm,” you nod. The room creeps darker with the laptop screen blanking out to sleep. If Eddie was really listening, he would’ve heard the tinge of something aching in your response.

“Do you um,” you start meekly, hesitating for a moment, “...do you still love her?” 

Eddie’s quiet, leaning to his side to turn one of your side table lamps on. 

“I’ll always love her,” he nods with a shrug, running his hands through his hair to make a makeshift ponytail before letting it go again, “She’ll always love me. But like, not in the way that we did when we were younger. We’ll just always have love for each other, I think.” 

“Yeah, cool,” you mumble, taking out your phone, “That’s a cool way to look at it.” 

“Thanks,” Eddie grins, reaching out to put a hand on your head. You move out of his touch, leaning forward to wake your laptop back up to let the next music video auto-play. Fat Joe’s What’s Luv ft. Ashanti  popping onto the screen. You both watch for a bit, still half on your phone and half keeping your eye on the screen. Eddie sees you open and close your texts, your thumbs typing rapidly before quickly closing the app again. 

“It’s so weird how many people were so vocal about how much they don’t go down on women,” you huff at the screen, “Like, that’s not something to brag about guys.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles, “What is it you said before? Oh yeah – can’t relate.” 

You still don’t turn back to face him, but he sees you nod and let out a breath, “That’s true.”  

He slides himself back down on the bed, getting close to you in the way he was before, molding  to your body with an arm around your waist. The soft lingering scent of your perfume still on your skin when he presses his face into the crook of your neck – but it’s not there for long. The bed shifts as you get up, stretching again, enough for your shirt to right up to see the underside of your breasts. A blush kicks up in his cheeks. 

“Dinner and a show?” he quirks, “Don’t spoil me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you squeak out at the end of a yawn, covering your chest, “I’ll be right back.” 

Eddie’s lips tug into a small frown when you make your way out of the room, surprised that you didn’t have a joke to throw back at him. He likes how easy it is to back and forth with you, he doesn’t think he knows anyone who’s as quick as him – not the way you are. He likes that you keep him on his toes like that. 

He checks his phone again in your absence, shooting his group chat with Tatianna and Gare with a regular check in. They left early this morning for a two week long trip to Aruba and he’s kept his phone on the loudest setting possible so he can be ready when he gets ‘the call’. They’ll come back as fiancés, but the only person who doesn’t know that is Tatianna. 

When you come back there’s a grimace on your face, “Um…look, I’m sorry but –” 

“Are you okay?” Eddie’s heart sinks. 

“No, eh, yeah but, I um – I just really don’t feel good,” you confess. 

“Can I get you something? You want some tea? Or I can run out and get ginger ale or –”

“No Ed, no I um…” you let out another long breath, “I think you should go.” 

“G-go?” he asks, sitting up straight on the bed, “Like, go home?” 

He watches you look him over, your shoulders sulking, “Yeah Eddie, you should go home.” 

“Oh…” he thinks for a minute before standing up, “Is it…did I do something?” 

“No, I just really don’t feel well,” you repeat, “I just want to go to bed.” 

“Okay, well, I can…I can go to bed, too,” he tries to bargain, “I can sleep on the couch if you – if you want the bed to yourself. I get it.” 

“Just go home,” you say with finality, not mean, not a yell – you just mean it, “Please.” 

“Um, alright,” his voice is drenched in confusion, brows furrowing while he packs up his overnight bag in the corner, “Y’know if I – If I fucked up you can just say something.” 

“You didn’t fuck up I just,” you deflate, crossing your arms protectively against your chest, “I wanna be alone.” 

“I understand,” he murmurs, heart thumping in his chest, sending disappointment coursing through him. He slings the bag over his shoulder, not even bothering to put on his jacket or change. Cautiously, he approaches you, looking into your eyes trying to find the answer as to why you're telling him to leave.

"Uh, I'll uh, I'll see you soon?" he asks hopefully.

"Yeah, maybe," you nod, avoiding his stare. He can hear the beginning of a cry starting in your throat.

"Can I kiss you goodbye?"

"Uh, yeah, fine."

Eddie leans in, cupping your cheek to kiss you but you barely kiss him back. Lips like rubber even as he pulls away.

It feels like he belly flopped. His eyes start to sting when you walk past him, crawling into your bed and pulling your computer onto your lap.

"Get home safe," you mumble out. "Thanks," he whispers, giving you a half hearted wave before heading out the door.

I don’t want to Miss Tiffany...Swimming sucks.

Eddie gets in the Honda and sits there for a moment in the dark, feeling his jaw tighten and his nose tingle. He rolls his shoulders, sniffling, trying to calm down but the feelings over take him, both hands coming down hard on his steering wheel.

"FUCK!" he shouts, smacking it again with a pained growl, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He feels sick knowing that you slipped through his fingers just as quickly as you fell into them. He should've seen this coming, he should've taken the dream from last night as prophecy. What's the point of making it to level 3 if you'll never make it to level 4? What's the point of diving if you're not watching? If he's gonna belly flop anyway? Eddie's breath comes in shudders, tears spilling over his dark lashes onto his cheeks. You're only about 30 feet away still, he can always just go back to your door. He can fix it like he did on your first date, he can just get out, he can do something.

Grow up...

The unease from his dream blooms black in his chest, Eddie looks at your bedroom window and watches the light snuff out through the curtains. His chest deflates, shoulders rounding while he turns the key in the ingition, car revving on, seatbelt light blinking while the 'ding, ding, ding,' to put in on rings in his ear.

With a final thick swallow, he sucks in his cheeks and bites down to stop himself from crying. Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair, wipes his eyes, looks himself over in the rearview. He wouldn't have a crush on this version of himself, he can't imagine you would either.

With a sigh, he tugs on the seatbelt, puts the car in drive, and pulls down the street. Feeling further away from you than when you were across the country -- different planets, a totally different universe.

In the late afternoon the next day Eddie checks his phone for the twelfth time in an hour. You still haven't texted or called, not even responding when he told you he got home okay. All you did was send a 'thumbs up'. With a quiet sigh through his nose he shoves his phone into his back pocket, pushing open the squeaking wooden doors to Calamity's -- a dive bar that Robin's been working at every Saturday for the last five years. Her sandy hair is tucked behind her ears while she pumps the shaker next to her head, chatting with Nancy who sits across from her on the bar.

At the squeak of the door they both turn to look at him, Robin's brows quirk, "What're you doing here, loverboy?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he mumbles.

"You wanna drink about it first?" she offers.

He nods, climbing onto the stool next to Nancy and leaning on his elbows on the sticky counter top, "Hey Nance."

"Hey Ed," she says, hand reaching out to rub his forearm, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he nods, "I'll be fine, I just -- yeah, I'm fine."

His phone buzzes, immediately reaching for his back pocket only to see an Apple News notification and no sign of you. He checks your socials for any sign of life, but you haven't even posted anything.

Another sigh and he can't help himself, resolve weakening as stubborn as he'd like to be.

hey, haven't heard from you. you okay?

He puts his phone on airplane mode, going a step further to shove it into the inside zipper pocket of his beat up leather jacket and keeping it locked up. The less accessible the better, he couldn't become the guy that waits by the phone all night aching for you. Not the way he did last night, tossing and turning in bed wishing so badly that you were next to him.

'Should I feel this bad so soon?' Eddie thinks, 'We're not even dating and we're fighting? Is this even a fight? Would this be considered a fight?' He listens to the drone of their conversation, the bar is open but normally no one really shows up until the sun goes down -- at least on the weekend. Robin slides a Jack and Coke in front him, tossing a tiny straw in with flourish.

"Here, sad sack," she teases. "Thanks," he murmurs, toying with the straw, making his silver chain bracelet tinkle against the hardware of his jacket. "Rob, c'mon," Nancy urges, "Don't mess around." "What, I didn't call him a loser," she defends, shrugging, "He's being a sad sack. Right Ed? You're a sad sack?"

"I'm a sad sack," he nods, "Nailed it, babe." "Well, what happened?" she asks again, voice softer this time. She leans herself over the counter, resting her hand on her palm. Eddie matches her posture, lifting the drink with his other hand. "I'll tell you when I finish this," he offers, "Talk to me about literally anything else." "Well I thiiiiink I'm about to land this new creative lead gig," Robin tosses her hair, her violet amber perfume feathering off of it, "Do I love the idea of working for a start up? No. Is it remote and 68 thou a year? Yes."

"Sick," he nods through a mouthful of liquor, "That's awesome."

"Gives me time to still work on my art shit with Tati," she shrugs, sipping from her water bottle, "And we'll probably be able to afford studio space if I get it."

"She'll be thrilled, damn. First an engagement ring and then an art studio that's not her classroom? Everything's coming up Edwards," he smiles for the first time all day. "Wait, did he propose already? Did we miss it?" Nance blanches, clutching her chest. "So far no," he laughs, "I think he's gonna wait until next weekend so they have one full week away as engaged. They're gonna come back and tell me to pack my shit."

"Well, you can always sleep in the loft -- or y'know," Nancy shrugs, "Maybe things're looking really good with your new girl?" Eddie hums, about to open his mouth but the door bursts open hard on its loose hinges and with it, the grittiness of the old subwoofers blasting Lil' Wayne's Lollipop.

“Oh, shit that’s my sooooong,” Steve exclaims while he gets in the door. He walks in like he owns the place, Ray Bans covering his eyes while a strand of his coiffed chestnut hair falls onto his forehead. “Just like a refund, I make her bring that ass back, and she bring that ass back – because I like that,” he drawls along, opening his phone with a smirk while the song gets louder throughout the bar. 

“Shawty wanna thuuuuug, bottles in cluuuuub,” he goes on, walking forward toward Eddie whos chin his still in his palm. Eddie's face scrunches, not in the mood to play along, covering his ears when the bass speakers right above him start to vibrate.

"Turn it down, Steve!" Robin yells, but it's muffled against the beat. "Huh?" he cups his ear like he can't hear her, brows furrowing while he flicks his glasses up to push back his hair. "STEVE!" she shouts back. "What? I can't hear you?" he lies again, turning it up a touch more while he makes his way behind the bar. He snatches Robin's phone by the register before she can get to it to change the volume herself, laughing while he slips it into the pocket of his vest. 'Call me, so I can make it juicy for ya,' he mouths along, body rolling his way closer to her with every word, 'Call-Call me, so I can make it juicy for ya.'

The music cuts abruptly, Nancy now found by the stero with manicured nails lingering on the volume knob.

"I'm changing the fucking Spotify password, dingus," Robin snaps, "You can't do that every time you come here. I'm gonna get fired."

"Don't be such a bitch, Rob," he sours, tucking his sunglasses into the crew neck collar of his shirt, "Nobody's here."

"You're a bitch, Harrington," Robin snaps back. "The biggest bitch I know," Nancy adds, taking her seat back next to Eddie. Steve sits at the end of the bar on the other side of him. "What's the matter, sad sack?" Steve asks, cocking his head toward Eddie, "Mad that it wasn't the Framing Hanley version?"

"Aw, fuck off, dude," Eddie rolls his eyes before running his hand over his face, palm catching on his five o'clock shadow. "He hasn't told us yet," Robin explains, "We're waiting until he finishes his first drink."

Two Jack and Coke’s in, the conversation bumps to the potential art studio, to Nancy’s potential promotion, to Steve’s latest project at work. A few regulars have trickled in, using the TouchTunes to their advantage since Spotify ‘isn’t working tonight’ as per Robin’s punishment for Steve. 

It gives Eddie a good reprieve, he’s glad he went out – beats being home alone and sitting there wondering what happened in the dark. Beats typing it up to send to Tatianna and Gareth and asking what happened and then deleting it because he doesn’t want to bother them on vacation. Beats wondering what you’re doing and why you won’t respond to him. Beats the feeling of laying in bed and wishing he knew what you'd feel like next to him for another night. Beats wondering what he did to deserve potentially losing out on something that felt more right than ever. Beats wondering if maybe you're it and how now he might never know.

“Okay, well, I let you get through two Jack and Coke’s – you gotta spill now, brother,” Robin sighs, leaning back down in front of him on her forearms. 

“Oh yeah, weren’t you supposed to have your wet hot American weekend at her place? What’re you doing here?” Steve inquires, smirk pulling on his lips, “Performance issues?” 

“Steve, come on,” Nancy sighs, “Are you serious?” 

“Nah, nah it’s fine,” Eddie shakes his head, “He’s just coming from experience, right?"

“No um, I really don’t know,” Eddie shrugs, “I went to her house and y’know it’s her time of the month or whatever – so maybe th–” 

“I’m gonna stop that thought before you finish it,” Robin puts a finger up, pink lips pulling into a smile, “Once sec while I pour this guy a beer.” 

Eddie sheepishly takes another sip of his drink, feeling the dull weight of it in the front of his skull – not drunk, but if he’s not careful he won’t be able to drive home. 

“Okay, continue,” Robin says when she gets back. 

 He takes his time walking through the night, retracing his vocal steps, the emotional ones. He talks about the slime videos, getting Indian food, how you didn’t want to have sex. The music videos, the kisses, the way you wrapped yourself around him – how everything seemed fine, perfect even. He was so excited to sleep next to you, to make breakfast in the morning, maybe shower together – maybe fuck in the shower if you were into it. But not…not this, not whatever happened. 

“What did you guys talk about? Like, did she talk about her past or anything? Did she seem off? Did a subject come up that she seemed weird about?” Nancy presses. 

“Yeah, you’re not giving us anything, just like – the highlights. We need the play by play, Munson,” Robin gestures with her hands, now nursing her own beer. 

“I mean, we were watching music videos,” he shrugs, “And Chris came up but like, she knew I was married. She asked about the divorce and whatever, we talked about how she’s with her new guy in Colorado.” 

“And?” 

“And I don’t know?” he shrugs, heart starting to pound a little in his chest, “I mean I showed her a picture of her and like, sort of ragged on myself like – like how I couldn’t believe I pulled someone like Chrissy.”

“Oh dude,” Steve sighs, “Dude, you fuckin’ dumbass.” 

“What? How am I a dumbass?” he asks defensively, hands out, pleading. 

“Cause she’s not Chrissy,” Steve explains, “Like – god, come on. Imagine she showed you a picture of fuckin’ – I don’t know – Jon Bernthal? And was like ‘Yeah, can’t believe I pulled this hot, sexy, manly strong man. I guess you’ll do as a follow up after him.’” 

Eddie blanches, guilt forming a ball in his throat, “But that’s not…That’s not how I meant it. Like, she’s – you’ve seen her. She’s gorgeous. She doesn’t have to look like Chris.” 

“Yeah but, after you talked about her, did she seem all quiet after?” Robin asks, eyes flicking to him and then Steve. 

“Well…well yeah–” 

“See, told you,” Steve shrugs, “I might not have a girlfriend but I still know how ladies work–” 

“Okay, okay, enough from you,” Nancy waves him off, “Did anything else come up?” 

“She asked if I still loved her and I said yeah but like, not romantically. We just will always have love for each other – y’know? I mean, we were like – we were married,” he tries to explain, “Do you think – do you think she thinks I just wanna be with Chrissy?” 

Robin grimaces, sipping her beer. Steve gives him a half hearted cock of the head. 

“I think…” Nancy starts, voice of reason as present as ever, “I think she doesn’t know your history very well and you don’t know hers. It could be that things went left with her ex or she’s been hurt by stuff like this before. She might not have known how to talk about it to you – but I definitely think talking about Chrissy like she was some prize you had and now you’re settling had something to do with it.” 

“But that’s not what I’m doing!” Eddie urges, hand coming down on the bar counter, “I’m not settling! I wanna like – I wanna be with her. I only talked about Chris so much because she asked I – I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. And I asked! I asked if I did something or said something and she said it was fine.” 

“Girls always say it’s fine Eddie, come on, you’ve been divorced. You should know,” Steve says with gravitas, “That’s like, what all women who are actually upset say.” 

“I have an idea,” Robin says with a breath, “First, don’t listen to Steve. That’s obvious. Second, give it another day, send her a message saying something along the lines of ‘Hey, I think I might have said some things that didn’t come out right. I’d love to talk it out with you. When’re you free?’ and see where it goes.” 

“Maybe you guys can hash it out at the beach next weekend? You think she’ll still wanna come?” Nancy asks. 

“Maybe,” Eddie shrugs, moping now, “If she ever wants to see me again.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic, Ed,” Robin rolls her eyes, sandy bangs tickling her lashes, “You just gotta give it a day or two.” 

He only has to give it until later that night, tucked into the couch with a slasher on to ease the ache of his broken heart. On the coffee table, his phone buzzes face down and with a shaky hand he reaches for it, not wanting to be too hopeful. But when your name lights up with a new message he feels his heart leap in his chest. 

i’m okay. thanks for checking in. 

He lets out a slow breath through an O in his lips. Eddie takes a beat, rings tapping against his phone case before he starts typing his response: 

look, idk what’s going through your mind but i really like you. i think i might’ve messed things up here. i’m happy to give you some space if you need but would you wanna talk about this soon? 

He stares at the message for a minute or two, heart pounding. There are so many ways you could respond. You could say no, or cuss him out, or tell him to fuck off. You could say you knew he was shit. You could, at the absolute worst, not even respond. He runs his hand over his face, covering his eyes while he presses send and tossing his phone onto the recliner across the room. Out of sight out of mind. 

If only for a few minutes when he hears the buzz against the leather. 

yeah, we can talk about it. work is kinda busy this week though.

He’d wait for you for months. 

would you still wanna come to the beach? steve said he’s still down to pick you up. 

yeah, i can still come to the beach

A grin sprawls across his lips, cheeks tight. He can still see you, he can still see you in that red suit. He can still talk to you. You still want to see him. It’s not totally ruined yet. 

He hesitates at first, but ultimately sends out the offer. 

tatianna and gare will still be away. if you want, you can stay the weekend at mine? maybe we can have a re-do.  He watches the three dots bubble in and out of the text conversation, watching as you type something and then delete. Type and delete. Type and delete. It’s only when he hears the tinkling of the standing lamp in the corner of the room that he realizes how hard he’s been bouncing his leg while he waits. 

i’ll think about it Well it’s not a no. It’s something. It’s a maybe. It’s a could be.

But if it ends up being a yes, he’ll make it better than what last weekend at yours could’ve been.

The week passed in a slow blur, Monday and Tuesday were a thousand years long – all of his students on his nerves when they caught on that he wasn’t on his phone as much. "Just take the L, Mr. E. You keep looking at your phone. She's obv not gonna text you." "Yeah Munson, you can't have a phone rule for us and then keep looking at yours." "You're giving negative aura points, Mr. E. Just admit you don't actually have any rizz."

He didn't know what any of them meant, but it didn't help the sting. Since Gareth was away there was no band practice on Wednesday, so instead he went to the studio by himself and plugged into the loudest amps he could. Shredding his frustration out through the strings until tears spilled as much as the melodies that leaked from the speakers. Being carried by the frustration that kept building from the way you haven't messaged him or called, from the fear of having to hurt the way he hurt three years ago all over again. From the way this couldn't be it.

By time he finished, his fingertips stung -- raw and red from hours of playing. It still didn't hurt has bad as the lump in his throat. As the dry phone in his pocket.

It’s Thursday afternoon when his phone finally pings and you ask what you should bring for the beach. Time speeds up again. He blinks and it’s Saturday morning, he blinks and he’s sitting behind Steve in his Escalade. He blinks and realizes he wishes he had more time to prepare himself for this, the prepare how to ask you to talk, to prepare for seeing you again after all this. All the rehearsals in his head had fallen away as they drive through your part of town.

“I LIKE A LONG HAIRED THICK REDBONE, OPEN UP HER LEGS, THEN FILET MIGNON THAT PUSSY.” “Oh my god, Steve please don’t say pussy like that.” The car rolls down your street, Robin in the front as always, and Nancy behind Robin. And sure, they could have picked up some of the younger crew but, in Steve’s words – ‘I’ve driven them around enough.’ EveryGirl in the World rumbles achingly loud through the speakers that he just got upgraded, making the leather vibrate under all of them. Lucky for Steve, none of the sound leaks through in your sleepy streets, lazy with the steamy haze of 7:30 in the morning. “I’mma get in an on that pussy, If she let me in, I’mma own that pussy.” “Steve,” Robin groans, “You’re so obnoxious. This is why nobody likes you!” “Everyone likes me – now come ‘ere let me dope you, You should be a dope fiend, your friend’s should call you Dopey. Tell ‘em keep my name out they mouth ‘cause they don’t know me.” “Do you think you sound cool when you rap?” she asks, pulling her sandy hair into a ponytail, “Look in the rearview, do you think you look cool?” Steve’s Ray Bans find the mirror, looking back at Eddie who grins at him while they ease into a stop in front of your place. “My sex game is stupid,” they both start, making Nancy laugh – Robin’s eyes rolling into the back of her head. “You’re both so insufferable,” she groans, but a smile pulls at her soft pink lips.

“My head is the dumbest, I promise – I should be Hooked on Phonics, Hah, well anyway, I think you’re bionic.” “Stop!” Robin shouts, laughing now while Steve tips his sunglasses down his nose and Eddie leans over the seat. Both faces eager with faux sincerity while Nancy giggles in solidarity behind her. “And I don’t think you’re beautiful, I think you’re beyond it.” Steve grins, Eddie unbuckling to get out of the car to get you. “And I just wanna get behind it –” “STEVE!” “And watch you back it up and dump it back, back it up and dump it back…” Eddie looks at your house, a nervous thrum in his chest while he gets out. The last time he was here he watched as you turned your bedroom light out after making him leave. You didn’t even respond to his ‘excited to see you, tomorrow’ text last night. You just ‘hearted’ it. He gets to your door ringing the bell and waiting for you, feeling as sheepish and awkward as a kid on a first date. When you open the door he can hear his heart beat in his ears. "Hey," he says quietly, "G'morning." "Morning," you say back. You both smile tightly at each other and then both of your gazes reach the ground. Eddie thinks to lean in and reach for you but retracts, you still feel so far away from him. The familiarity from before -- from Barcade, from showing up at your house last week -- long gone. A stranger he's meeting for the first time. He wonders if the group can even sense it from the car.

“Can I get those for you?” he asks, seeing you hoist your beach bag over your shoulder, a mini cooler in your other hand. “No, it’s fine,” you wave him off as you walk through the door, shutting it behind you. He rolls his eyes, easing the bag off of your shoulder and the cooler out of your hand.

With how things feel, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up and ask if you packed to stay with him for the weekend. But the weight of your bags gives him a soft flutter of ease in his chest that he might get a chance to fix this afterall. "Go ahead and get in the car," he says softly, "Everyone's excited to see you."

He watches you get in while he settles your bags amongst the others in the trunk, everyone says their hellos and he begs for it to not be weird considering they all know what's going on. Nancy takes a cue to move to the bench seat further back so you can sit next to each other, Eddie offering her a grateful nod when he gets back in behind Steve. 

“Alright, so now that we’re all accounted for we’re playing a game,” Steve says, turning the music down, “One by one we’re gonna pick our songs of the summer from when we were kids. We're going summer mode.” 

“That’s cute,” Nancy smiles, “That’s a cute idea you have there, Steve.” 

He shrugs one shoulder, dropping his Raybans down his nose to look at her, “Only cute ideas from the cutest guy here.” 

“Alright, relax,” Eddie grumbles when Steve steps on the gas, arms crossing over his chest. You’re looking at your phone, probably checking to see what song you want to pick, but he wishes you were looking at him. Half of him wants to reach over and rest his hand on your thigh like you’re his, but right now he knows you’re not. He slides his phone out from his pocket, shooting you a text at an attempt to try and salvage the car ride.

hey. you look really pretty.

He watches you while you look at the notification banner pop up on the screen, a soft smile flickers across your face when you open it. Eddie’s phone buzzes in response.

thanks, you too.

And he does look pretty – black shorts and a cut off Hawkins, IN t-shirt from some time in the early 90s. Well worn but still starchy. His tattoos bounce off his skin, a thin little heart outline peeking out from the top of his jeans, wallet chain still shining and silver. He had his hair pulled back messy, bangs and tendrils still flowing in his face – but for the first time you get to really see the curves and slopes of his jaw line, the tension in his neck. He blushes, putting his arm on the back of your seat, close enough where he doesn’t think he’s pushing it. Sunny Came Home flows through the speakers of the car. 

“Pristine choice, Rob,” Eddie nods, “Damn.” 

“Right in the chest, right?” Robin scrunches her nose, “Like sitting in your mom’s back seat on the way home from the grocery store in July or something.” 

Steve’s pick is unsurprising, Nelly’s Ride Wit Me shaking the car while he pulls onto the highway. You skip over yourself, unsure at what to pick, passing the phone to Nancy behind you who settles on Sheryl Crowe’s Everyday Is A Winding Road. Eddie loves how easy it is for you to fit in, like you’ve always been a part of the group – screaming the lyrics with Nancy and Robin so loud that Steve opens his window to let the sound leak out. 

When Eddie get’s the phone he smirks, typing in his choice before passing it back to Steve who chuckles when he presses play. 

“Oh yes,” Robin laughs when the opening riff of Santana’s Smooth booms against the leather interior, “You would.”  “Of course I would,” Eddie grins, tossing you a look for your approval. You nod back at him, mouthing along with the lyrics, rolling and shimmying your shoulders to match Robin’s dancing in the front. He gulps silently, knowing that there’s still a conversation to be had. Do you always hide your disappointment like this? Are you over it? Are you okay? And if you are -- why does it feel like this? Like you don't want his attention? Like you don't want him to touch you? 'Cause it's all he can think about with you next to him, looking pretty the way that you do. Looking perfect. Feeling like an old sweatshirt he wants to be covered in. “It’s the same as the emotion that I get from you, You got the kind of lovin' that can be so smooth, yeah Give me your heart, make it real, or else forget about it.”  He doesn’t notice at first that his fingers twitch along with the chords when the solar starts. "Wait, tell her the story about Wayne banning this song from your life," Robin says, turning back towards the two of you behind her. "Banned from his life?" you ask in surprise, but your attention is on Robin, "Does he just really not like Rob Thomas?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, biting his lower lip before recounting why it's banned from ever playing at Forest Hills, “I was obsessed when I was little. Sat in my bedroom for weeks listening to it over and over so I could teach myself by ear. Wayne – my uncle – he told me I could never listen to it again. He threw my stereo out the window that summer, he was so pissed – so sick of it, and then got even more mad that he had to buy me a new one. But I had to promise to never play it again at his house for as long as he was alive. And no one else is allowed to play it at the park either.”

“Can you still do the solo?” you ask, eyes finally landing on him. His breath hitches when your eyes meet, mouth going dry.

“Oh yeah,” his voice cracks awkwardly, fingers still playing an air guitar on his lap, “Learned to play a lot of his stuff when I was a teenager. John Mayer too, if you can believe it.”  “Very toxic soft boy of you,” you tease.  “Listen sugar, it was a hit with the ladies,” his voice is soft, but still teasing -- desperate to recreate the banter you've had over the past few weeks. You get nervous, he can tell by the way your knee bounces and a flick of another smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. Sugar, he thinks, s’that all it takes? When you get the phone you make your pick, certain of it now. Steve nods in agreement when he presses play on Aaliyah’s Are You That Somebody?  “I knew I liked her,” Steve says, catching him in the rearview again, “She better be sticking around.”

Eddie is silently thankful for the encouragement.

The rest of the surrounding towns must’ve had a similar idea because the first half of the beach was full by the time you got there despite the early wake up. Steve’s SUV strolls down the expansive parking lot while It’s Gonna Be Me plays, the boys and Robin screlting along with the music – singing into the straws of their iced coffees.  The bridge hits near the end and he doesn’t want to be obnoxious but he does want to impress you so he hits the runs where he can.  ‘Don’t wanna lose it, but I’m not li-ii-ke that, When finally, finally, You get to lo-oo-ve, Guess what, guess what…’ Steve finally finds parking and you all hop out onto the asphalt, the sun already hot on your skin. The woosh of hot air hits his face, catching against the nervous sweat on his forehead and neck. Macho is as macho does, Eddie and Steve make their way to the trunk, taking all of the coolers and bags of beach games while leaving the chairs to the ladies. 

“We brought you an extra,” Eddie smiles, “In case you didn’t have one.”  “I brought you an extra,” Steve corrects, eyes falling on you from behind his Ray Bans, “You can thank me later, angel.” 

“You do not have to thank him,” Eddie scrunches his nose while you all walk to the wood planked entrance covered in sand. This area was at least less crowded but far from the bathrooms and food stalls by the front of the parking lot. He can feel your eyes on him, following the way his cut off shirt rides up revealing the end of a snake and sword tattoo off his side and oblique. Lingering on the top of his jeans, on the ways his biceps and forearms flex at every move of the load he’s holding. He swallows hard, suddenly so aware of himself and what he looks like – do you like it? Do you think he looks good? 

The blankets get placed and so do the chairs, Steve and Nancy expertly get the umbrella in – she reads the directions out loud and Steve does what she says as she says it. When everything is settled you kick off your sandals and put it by your canvas tote, taking out your sunglasses. Eddie sits on the blanket below you, watching you get yourself together. You reach for the bottom of your shirt, a tee from some time in your life when he didn’t know you. Eddie’s mouth falls open when you pull it up over your head; his tongue curls up in his mouth when he sees the soft arch in your back, the way your breasts press up against the edge of your suit. That red suit. 

He licks his lips absentmindedly, unable to look at you when you start taking your shorts off because if he watches the jiggle your ass and thighs he won’t be able to deal. He’s lucky he’s wearing aviators big enough to cover his saucer like eyes – embarrassed by the way his body react like some teenager reading a Playboy. He's a grown man for god's sakes.

“H-hey Rob,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “You uh, um, you wanna check out the water?” “Yeah, gimme one sec,” she calls out, tossing her hair up in a claw clip from her back pack. “That’s mine,” Nancy argues, “How long have you had that?!”  Robin shrugs, “Long enough that you didn’t miss it.”  “You do this every time you come over. You always steal something,” she huffs, Robin popping her gum between her teeth in response.

"It's a little something to remember you by, Nance," she shrugs with a smirk. “You wanna come?” he asks you, shrugging off his shorts and throwing his trunks over his boxer briefs.  “Not yet, want it to get a little hot before I check it out,” you explain, taking your sunscreen out.  He huffs a laugh, trying a hand at being flirty despite the distance he feels between you, “Well, to be honest sugar, you’re already lookin’ pretty h–”  “Don’t embarrass yourself,” Robin breathes, patting him on the back, “Let’s go.” 

He takes a look back at you smiling at you over his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.” “I’ll be here,” you wave him off while you start to spray your sunscreen on your arms. He turns back towards the water, crashing in waves and sliding up the shore. The sun kissed his skin over his crop, still not ready to take it off yet. 

“You gonna make it, Ed?” Robin asks, bumping her shoulder against his, "You're fumbling bad. She looks good."

“I just – fuck Rob,” he shakes his head, looking down at their feet while they step over shells and seaweed on the bank above the shore, “It feels ruined. Like she came to like, to check to see if she still likes me."  

“I don’t know what it is. It just doesn't feel easy like it was before,” he shrugs, “How I’m supposed to bring up last weekend or like, how to talk to her anymore.” “She seems totally fine,” Robin says with a look, “Maybe you’re just over thinking it.” “She seems totally fine with you guys but I don’t know – it feels like for me there’s a wall there. Like the insane connection we had before just doesn’t matter because I’m a dumbass. Maybe this should’ve just been a fling and after today we’ll just end it,” he rambles on, “Am I making sense?”  

“You are making sense,” she agrees, “But I don't think you ruined it. I think you're being kind of down on yourself about it and you're doing it on purpose." "What does that even mean?" he snaps. "It means, she wouldn't have come if she didn't want to work it out with you. Like, why would she come hang out for the day with your friends if she wasn't trying to make an effort to fix things?" "Well I mean--" "Not done," she says, putting her hand up, "And further, I think one little hint of something not going totally perfect makes you so afraid that you're gonna get hurt bad like with Chrissy. And it's clear that you really like this girl -- like, really like her. And that freaks you out, so you don't want to go through the motions of fixing it just in case things go left a second time."

“It doesn’t freak me out,” he shuts it down quickly but he knows she’s right, sighing when he considers it, “Maybe it does. Maybe it's scaring me that I'm already thinking about her like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“I dunno, like I wanna be with her. Like really with her,” he shrugs while they step into the foaming leftovers of a wave receding. The water is freezing, not yet warmed up from the heat of summer since the ninety degree weather is such a mid-spring surprise. 

“Fuck!” they both hiss in unison, stepping ankle deep into the water. 

“Be with her like…marry her?” she asks, crystal blue eyes squinting into the horizon, "You sure you're not simultaneously thinking too far ahead?"

“Maybe,” he says, pulling his hair out of its ponytail and shaking it out at the root. The curls at the base of his neck already starting to get tight and coiled with sweat. 

“I should probably start by being her boyfriend first,” he laughs. "You should probably start by working through this little snag first," she corrects, "You can be her boyfriend some other time." "Not all of us want a perpetual 'will they, won't they' relationship like two idiots in bikinis that I know," Eddie teases her, pulling his hair back up in the scrunchy he also stole from Nancy when they went to her house for a movie night. 

“Don’t let Wheeler see you with that,” she warns, reaching out for his hand while they turn back towards the sand. Eddie takes it, savoring the reassuring squeeze she offers in understanding. 

“What’s she gonna do, Buckley?” Eddie raises a brow, “Eat me out about it?” 

“Don’t be a fucking asshole,” Robin snorts, letting go to give him a shove in the shoulder while sand kicks of from their heels. 

Back where the towels and beach blankets are set up, you’re on your stomach, leaning your head to one side in a conversation with Nancy that has you giggling with each other. He nudges Robin with his shoulder who nudges him back. He wonders if Robin feels the same way about Nancy as he feels about you. He wonders if Robin will ever tell her. 

“How’s the water?” Nance asks, propping her chin up on the heel of her hand. 

“Freezing,” Eddie grimaces, “Like, bone chilling.” “I’m not surprised,” you shrug, “It’s not real hot yet.” “Just fake hot?” he asks back. “Yeah, just fake hot,” you agree with a scrunch of your nose. Still quick. 

Nervously, he makes the commitment of pulling off the cut off tee he came in, never normally thinking much about his body until you were right there in front of him but lightyears away. Eddie didn’t think he looked bad, but compared to Steve’s tanned, defined chest and abs he thought maybe he left more to be desired. It had kind of always felt like that, he thought, even when he was married. He wanted to feel like someone worth bragging about, and by the end of his relationship with Chrissy – she wasn’t really doing much bragging. With the way he could feel your eyes on him earlier, he was more self conscious now than he had been in years. He folds it up the shity nice, tossing it down on the beach blanket by you before sitting down and fishing into his bag for some sun screen. He’s meticulous with it over his tattoos, standing back up to get the snake and sword on his oblique fully covered.  

“This is kind of cliche but would you be down to get my back?” he asks hopefully, turning toward you, “I can do yours.” 

“Steve did mine,” you reply, face quirking from behind your sunglasses. “Oh um, wow,” he tries to shake it off, but the comment stings.Thinking about Steve having his hands on you in this suit before he ever even got the chance. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure, “Nancy got my back, but I can do yours.”  He frowns, “Don’t joke like that, please.” 

You get quiet and nod, taking the sunscreen from him. “Sorry,” you say in a whisper. Miles away. He wants to apologize for your apology. 

You’re gentle when you rub the sunscreen onto his back, taking extra care of the ink on his shoulder blade flowing down and wrapping into the tattoos on his ribcage. You can tell by the depth of the ink that he takes good care of them, feeling him relax under your touch. Eddie leans his head to the side while you continue, seeing two girls making their way down the sandy banks just by where their crew was set up. They lay out their towels while awkwardly trying to get their umbrella in place – laughing while they keep getting it wrong. When you’re done with his back, he thanks you softly – happy to see that you settle back down next to him. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna take them to finally get it in?” you ask. If he was a stupid boy he’d say ‘That’s what she said’, but he’s not so–

“That’s what she said,” Steve jokes. Eddie turns to see that Steve’s lifted up his Raybans, enjoying the show as the girls dig and shove their umbrella into the sand – losing sight of one of their towels now blowing over in the wind. 

“Come the fuck on,” one of them groans, but they are laughing too hard to be mad, too hard to grip the umbrella tight enough. It’s not lost on Eddie that Steve is watching because the girl with the umbrella in her hands, with her black suit and cat eye sunglasses, is nearly bursting out of her bathing suit top with a cleavage that even makes his own eyes widen. 

“Be right back,” Steve says, getting up out of his beach chair.  “Don’t be embarrassing,” Robin begs, “Please.” Steve flips her off while he walks by her, taking a few more steps past the beach blankets and running a hand through his chestnut hair. 

“Ahoy ladies!” he calls out, “Need a hand?” 

“Ew,” Robin mumbles, “He’s so weird.” 

“He’s gonna come back with both of their numbers, just watch,” Nancy says, “Every time.” 

“Is he really that much of a ladies man?” you ask, “He’s kind of – I don’t know. He’s kind of goofy.” 

Eddie laughs hard, Nancy and Robin joining in. Hard belly laughs. Not because of just the question, but the way you asked it. The genuine curiosity, the admission of how you felt. It was the exact thing Steve needed to hear, a shame he wasn’t around to hear it. It’s here that he knows he needs to just bite the bullet and work things out because you’re so sweet. You’re so – you’re just so you. 

“Don’t worry, we don’t get it either,” Nancy laughs, wiping her eyes. 

“Ooh, I needed that, that was good,” Robin breathes, “But you’re right, he’s super goofy.” 

Steve had come back an hour later, putting together their entire set up and taking some time to sit and talk to him. Without fail, he sat back down in his beach chair with two new numbers in his phone; breaking into one of the Yeti coolers and pulling out the canned mixed drinks he packed en-masse. 

“Whose partaking?” he asks, holding one up. It’s only 11 AM but hot weekends are a means for day drinking, and if anyone needs to take the edge off it’s Eddie Munson. Between the awkward half smiles and some back and forth and the way his heart dips and leaps at any given moment while next to you, he’d take any relaxer he can get. 

You all grab a drink, and he watches fondly as you talk about beach reads with Nancy and Robin. Sitting in the sand while the three of you make semi sand castles with each of your cans in dug out cup holders. He admires the way the sun bounces off your shoulders and tries to not admire the way your suit rides up on your hips. He doesn’t want to fix things just on account of being horny. 

Eddie checks his phone for signs of life from Gareth and Tati – they sent a few photos from Flamingo Island. Tatianna feeding the birds while looking like a supermodel and Gareth keeping a distance from the birds while looking awkward and pale. Another, a live photo of a selfie of Tatianna glowing with the beach in the background. Eddie holds his thumb on the picture, letting it play to Gare reaching over from behind to kiss her on the cheek. He smiles, watching them be in love through the photos, eyes flicking from you to them. Wondering when you’ll both be next. 

Robin sparks a pre-roll and you all sneakily split it like kids hiding from the cops. When you pass it to him, your fingers brush, and he can’t help but flash a bright smile at you while he takes it. 

“Thanks, sugar,” he drops his voice purposely, watching as your posture changes – a fluster running through you. 

“You’re welcome,” you mumble, going back to your sand and conversation. 

Eddie pulls his notebook out, a hybrid for a DnD and lesson plan scrap paper for when he thinks of something fun to do that the board will say no to. He takes their no and does it anyway, it’s not like they check. 

He gets up from the beach blanket, opting to set up his chair under the umbrella to get a break from the sun and so he can see the paper in the bright light. Some time passes and he’s knee deep in planning a new campaign when from above the notepad you’d made your way back from the sand, settling back down. 

“I want fries so bad,” you complain. 

“There’s a stand at the end of the beach,” he offers. 

“I don’t want to go get fries,” you sigh, “I would like the fries to be here already.” He licks his lips nervously before closing the notebook over his thumb, “I’ll go with you.” 

You look up at him from your spot on the blanket and he looks down at you, both knowing that being alone together will only bring upon the inevitable. Maybe you both need to grow up. 

“Um,” you hesitate before nodding, “Yeah, yeah okay. Let me just get my shorts on.” 

Eddie puts his notebook away, grabbing his wallet and putting it into the pocket of his trunks before slipping his shoes back on. You throw on your shorts, sliding into your sandals reaching for your bag. 

“You don’t need your bag,” he says gently, “I got it for you.” 

You smile, it’s small, “Oh, well – thanks.” “C’mon,” he says, ticking his head back toward the planked walkway for an easy walk back up to the asphalt. As you walk ahead of him, Robin, Steve, and Nance all exchange glances knowingly. Robin offers him a thumbs up before he turns around, following you up the beach. 

Without the buffer of everyone else, the tension feels worse. He’s not sure whether to reach for you, but when you tuck your hands in your shorts pockets it becomes obvious that you don’t want him to hold your hand. 

“Weather’s pretty wild, huh?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod. Your shoulders bump while you keep walking, not continuing the conversation but muttering a soft apology when you collide. 

Eddie sighs, a little too audibly because your shoulders sulk a bit when he lets out the last of the breath. He can’t really take this anymore, biting his cheeks for resolve and guiding you over to the concrete barrier that separates the boardwalk from the beach. 

“Look,” he begins, voice shaking, “Before we get fries we – we really need to talk about the other night.” 

“I said it was fine,” you respond, but you don’t meet his eye. Your tone lacks energy, like you’re just trying to push it away; but he doesn’t want that. His rings clink against the concrete when he pats the top, “Sit.” 

When you oblige, he stands between your knees, “It’s not fine. You were really upset. I wanna talk about it.” 

“It’s stupid, it doesn’t matter,” you reply, your eyes landing on his shoulder, looking at the people walking past him, “I’ll get over it.” He tentatively puts a hand on your leg, letting his thumb run over your soft skin. A rush runs through him when you don’t pull away, soothingly running his hand back and forth.

“It matters to me,” he says, moving his head so he can catch your gaze. It’s clear now that whatever is part of your own tragic lore has a lot to do with how you approach stuff like this; how you don’t really want to tell him that he hurt your feelings. 

“Is it because of me talking about my ex?” he asks. 

You’re quiet for a few minutes and he’s patient, watching you mull over the night in your head and finding the courage to let the words out. His hand travels from your thigh to where your hand rests on the barrier, interlocking your fingers with his.  

“She’s just so pretty,” you say, voice strained with emotion – weak like you’re swallowing a cry, “And I don’t look like that.” 

“I don’t want you to look like that,” he says gently. 

“It’s not just that…it’s just – I –” you roll your eyes at your own ridiculousness, “I just…I’ve been the rebound a lot, before my ex. Always for people whose partner before looked like your ex-wife, and was perfect, and pretty, and graceful, and all of the nice things you said she was. And I’m sure she’s great, I really believe you.” He squeezes your hand with gentleness while you continue. 

“I just don’t want to like you this much just to be your rebound,” you confess, “And I know you said you like me and that what we’ve been doing so far has been so good, but that’s like – that’s how it always starts out. These guys will act like I’m so great for them just to y’know – toss me when they get what they need. And you just sort of went from talking about how amazing and caring she is to like – talking about my body.” 

His brows crinkle, a frown pulling on his lips, “Why didn’t you tell me I was making you feel like that when I asked?” 

“I didn’t want you to be mad,” you mumble, a crackle in your tone, “Or tell me I was being stupid or get defensive because I just…I didn’t want to ruin it. But I – I ruined it anyway.” 

“No, no,” he shakes his head, taking his sunglasses off, round eyes pleading to you, “Sweetheart you didn’t ruin it. I’m – I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me. I wouldn’t have been mad.” 

“I just really don’t wanna get hurt,” you plead, “I don’t want to waste my time.” “You’re not I – babe, I don’t wanna get hurt either,” he sighs, “But you’re not a rebound. It’s…it’s been three years since I even considered seeing someone seriously. That’s not what I’m looking for. I already told you that night after Barcade how much I like you.” 

“Yeah but people say a lot of things just to get laid,” you shrug. 

His chest deflates, “Is that really what you think of me?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Maybe we just don’t really know each other yet.” 

It dawns on him slowly, you don’t really know each other yet. He knows how he feels about you, and how it feels like he’s known you his whole life. But he doesn’t know your ins and outs and you don’t know his – there’s a patience and excitement about the idea of learning it all.

“I don’t just wanna sleep with you,” he says earnestly, “Hell I was – I was so nervous to kiss you at Little Spoon, and even after Steve’s birthday…I – I’ve been thinking about you for weeks. And when things went left y’know I just – I was waitin’ by the phone for you to say something. I didn’t wanna push because I figured maybe you needed a minute.” “But sugar, I really felt awful,” he continues, letting his hands cup your cheeks, “I really was scared that you just decided you were done with me.” 

“I don’t wanna be done with you,” you say through squished cheeks. 

“I don’t wanna be done with you, either,” he says, “Cause getting started has been really great so far.” 

“I still really like you,” you profess. 

“I’m kind of obsessed with you,” he laughs breathily. 

“Yeah, I know,” you laugh, almost a little teary, “I tell you all the time.” 

“I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” he asks, running his tongue over his lips. 

“Okay.” With his hands on your cheeks, he pulls you into him, letting his nose brush your first before pressing his lips against yours – no longer rubbery and despondent in their response. He feels weightless, not even caring about the people walking by who might be staring when he slips his tongue into your mouth. Kissing you feels more right than ever. Kissing you feels like coming home. 

When he breaks away, breathless, his eyes coast over your features, “Shit…” 

“What?” 

“I just…I really fucking like you.” 

You lean forward to bless him with a kiss again, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be afraid to steal one from you whenever he wants now. 

You continued your talk on the remainder of the walk to get fries, explaining your insecurities that he quelled with each thought that passed your lips. He confessed to the tears in his Honda and how he didn’t mean to come off so in love when talking about Chrissy – just that she was important to him, and that part of him will love her in a fond way, always. You confess you have a few people like that in your life too, but you’ll talk about that in ‘another episode’. He lets you know you only have to talk about things when you’re ready. 

On the way back, you hold hands, Eddie holding the bag with your fries in the other. He presses kisses to your temple and cheek every few intervals – laughing at you when you stop at the sound of Return of the Mack to hit a groove. 

“Truthfully, this is one of my favorite songs of all time,” you tell him, “And I played it all week to try to make myself feel better.” 

“Did you dance like this in your house each time?” 

“I did.” 

“I’m sad I missed it, I could’ve used a laugh,” he teases. 

“You’re very cruel,” you concede, hip bumping him while you continue on, “You’d die to have me give you a lap dance.” 

His ears turn pink at the thought, “Heh, well um…well if you’re offering…”

“It’s on the table,” you shrug, giving his hand a squeeze. 

“It can be anywhere, sweetheart – table, chair, in space – you name it I —” 

He stops when he notices the way a guy looks at you as he walks by, eyes scanning from the top of your head down to your thighs. Eddie’s head tilts, following the guys vision even as you pass – the man getting a good look as your ass with abandon. 

“Hey,” Eddie snaps, a touch of pride swelling in his chest. The guy looks up and meets his eye. 

“Yeah, you,” he continues, holding eye contact with a furrowed brow, “See somethin’ you like, chief?” 

“Listen man, I’m not startin’ trouble here I was – I was just –” 

“You were just walkin’ the other way,” Eddie finishes for him, “Get fuckin’ lost.” 

You tuck your lips into your teeth, while Eddie guides you away, hand wrapping around you to slide from your waist to your ass with a firm squeeze before settling in your shorts back pocket. You turn to look at him while you walk and he shakes his head. 

“Don’ look at me like that,” he huffs a laugh, grinning slightly, “Look, this is my ass.” 

“Well, technically it’s my ass but um, y’know, whatever you say,” you respond, a little breathy. He remembers the way you mentioned tipsily at the bar that you liked that streak in him. And if anything this true now, after these conversations, he wants everyone to know you’re his. He’s not playing around. 

When you get back to the group there’s another set of blankets next to yours, and a collection of more friends that you remember from Steve’s party. 

“Oh, hey freaks,” Eddie chimes when they all say their cheery hellos to the both of you. He nods at Erica in respect, “Miss Applejack.” 

“Nerd,” she hums out, fishing out a Nerf howler from Steve’s bag to play with Max and Lucas. Steve, of course, is back over making a fool of himself by the girls from earlier while Nancy, Robin, Dustin play cards. Mike, who you haven’t met, is stuck in a book under the umbrella. 

“What’re you reading Wheeler?” Eddie asks, taking you hand in hand back to the blanket to sit down. 

“It’s called The Ethical Slut,” he murmurs, “Me and El are practicing Ethical Non Monogamy while she’s in LA with Will.” 

“Practicing what?” he asks through a mouthful of fry. 

“Ethical non-monogamy,” he sighs, peering over the pages, “My guys at Oberlin were telling me about it. It’s like, it’s like being open.” 

Eddie pulls a face and take the book out of his hand, hitting him in side of the head with it, “Don’t be fuckin’ weird, dude.” 

“It’s not – ugh it’s not weird, you’re just old and don’t get it,” he sighs. 

“You’re old and don’t get it, tool,” Eddie clicks his tongue, “This is why you’re both always fighting.” 

“Oh my god, we’re not always fighting we just–” “Alright twerps, meet my friends,” Steve says with a game show host smile, hands showing off the two girls from before. They introduce themselves, everyone going around to offer their names, too. 

“And over there is Lucas, Max, and Erica,” Steve says, pointing at the three closer to the edge of the shore. He motions for them to sit, offering them drinks from the coolers while they make themselves comfortable. 

“I think we should play never have I ever so we can all get to know each other,” Steve offers, sitting between the two women who giggle whenever he looks at them. Clear from the look on their faces that he definitely snuck one of Robin’s pre-rolls over to spark up before bringing them to the group. 

“No, Steve, we’re not playing that,” Eddie waves the suggestion off like a bad smell. 

“How come?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Cause we’re in our fuckin’ 30s, what is this, a high school beach party?” 

“You just don’t like it ‘cause you always lose,” Steve teases, catching your eye, “He’s a sore loser, angel.” 

“I believe this,” you nod. 

“Okay, well, I still said what I said,” Eddie huffs. 

“There’s no way, look, I’ll start with an easy one,” you offer, “Never have I ever um…spent a weekend in jail.” 

Eddie scowls with a gravelly sigh, bringing a beer to his lips. Steve barks a laugh, “See, I told you – sore loser.” 

Max, Lucas, and Erica come back to the blankets when they see the newcomers sitting with the group. Max tosses Robin and look and Eddie knows that means they’ll be double teaming to make sure Steve looks like a tool at every given moment. Lucas asks if it’s a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’ and everyone excitedly agrees except for Eddie whose stewing, and Mike whose chest deep in his book. 

“Okay, we don’t have to play,” you soothe, running your hand over his bicep, “But damn, you spent a weekend in jail?” 

“I have spent,” he sighs, taking another sip of beer, “A lot of weekends in jail, sweetheart.” 

“Like – for bad stuff?” 

“Like, for stupid shit,” he explains, “I was a dumb kid, it was all dumb shit. But yeah, I got a little record. Nothing crazy enough to keep me from teaching.” 

“Sooo mysterious,” you tease, laying down on your back while you snag a fry from the back, “Very bad boy of Dawson’s Creek.” 

“Mean,” he glares playfully, laying next to you, “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know about you, then.” 

“Hmm,” you think, turning to look him over, “I am lifeguard and WSI certified.” 

“WSI?” 

“Water safety instructor,” you answer, “I teach swim lessons. Well used to.” 

“You know like, first aid and stuff?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod excitedly, “Like CPR and stuff.” 

“Hm,” he hums, leaning on his side, propping his head up, “Like you could give me mouth to mouth?” 

“Don’t be horny and gross,” you laugh, “I could save your life.” “It would save my life to have your mouth on my mouth, I promise,” he says with a hint of seriousness. 

“Tell me somethin’ else I don’t know about you, jailbird,” you prompt, matching his posture. 

“Ummm, ah!” he snaps, “I um, I speak Spanish.” Your brows furrow, “Like, fluently?” 

“Sí, con fluidez,” he smirks. 

“Show off,” you grin.

“Ooh, you think it’s hot, don’t you?” he laughs, “You think I’m so sexy.” 

“You’re somethin’,” you sigh, “How’d you get fluent in Spanish?” 

“I took it in high school and college,” he shrugs, “But I worked at a pretty authentic Colombian restaurant for like, five years while teaching before getting to the private school. I was in the kitchen and all the guys spoke Spanish so I sorta committed. And y’know, a lot of my kids’ parents speak Spanish so it’s helpful to be able to communicate with them too. I don’t wanna lose it, so I practice a lot.” 

“Look at you,” you encourage, “What else would surprise me?” 

“Oh I don’t know,” he shrugs, feeding you a fry, “Maybe – hmm – I love Sza.”  “The singer?” you ask through a mouthful. 

“Yes,” he nods, “She’s my celebrity pass I’m, wow, I love her. She’s so fine. But also, I dig her sound – Ctrl is one of my favorite albums of all time. We even do a cover of The Weekend at our sets sometimes.” 

“How does that work? Like, is it just a screamo version?” 

“Screamo? Don’t disrespect me like that,” he holds a hand to his chest over his silver chains, “We’re a metal band, baby.” “Sorry, please excuse me. Like, is it just a metal version?” you repeat back with a little bite. He rests the tip of his tongue by the sharp point of his canine when he smiles at you, flicking over your face before looking back into your eyes. 

“It’s kind of a Deftones-y version,” he shrugs. 

“Oh,” you nod, “Okay.” 

“What?” 

“Nothin’ just, would really like to hear that someday,” but there’s something in the way you say it, “Did you ever record it?” 

“Might’ve? Maybe just rehearsals,” he shrugs, “If we did, it’s somewhere on my hard drive.” “Well, maybe we can find it later.” “Later?” he asks, eyes glittering with excitement, “You’re – you’re gonna come over?” 

“Yeah, I – I packed a little extra just in case,” you giggle. He knew he was right, that feeling in his gut when he took your bag. He was gonna give you the re-do of a the century. 

“We’ll look for it when we get home and you can listen,” he promises. “It’d be cool to hear it live one day,” you suggest. He makes a note to put it back in rotation for the summer set list; even though they put the cover to bed some time last year. 

“You wanna see me play?” 

“Of course,” you nod, “You’re gonna be a famous rockstar, remember? We went over this.” 

“You’re right,” he nods back, leaning forward, tucking a fingertip under your chin, “I remember.” 

You both ignore the coos and aws from the group as he leans in to kiss you. 

‘After sun sleepy’ is what you called it in the car as the group of you piled in, the weight of the day heavy on your eyelids. Salt and sand coated both of you, a soft tinge of pink glowed off of Eddie’s shoulders where the sunscreen couldn’t hold out any longer. The ride home was less eventful than the ride there, everyone tuckered out and sun soaked from the day’s activities. Steve gave you both some parting teasing once you let him know he didn’t have to drop you off at your house once he pulled up in front of Eddie’s. 

“Use protection,” he calls out from the window. 

“Bye,” Eddie calls back out, “Don’t ever come back.” 

He’s much cooler about opening the door this time around, not speedily trying to get things done before the party made it back to his. No count down for when you had to leave. He has the rest of the night and all of tomorrow to have you to himself. This time he could take it slow, take his time, you could both relax. “I need to shower,” you mumble, slipping your sandals off in the entryway. “We can shower,” he nods, placing the beach bags down next to his Vans – he’ll deal with that later. You turn around on the balls of your feet, smirking while your arms fold across your chest. He tries to ignore the way your boobs push in and up, the top curve of tour cleavage  making him feel dumb. 

“We?” you ask. 

“Uhh,” he coughs to buy time, smirking to himself behind his hand, “I just – um – I don’t know. I don’t know why I said that. Why I said it like that.” 

You laugh, watching him sputter, “I think I know why you said it like that.” 

“Look,” he puts his hands up, “It may or may not have been something I’ve been thinking about at night when I’m trying to avoid grading papers. That’s all.” 

He guides you to the bathroom, stopping at the small closet down the hall to grab you both towels and washcloths; fresh from the dryer this morning. It’s when you’re both standing on the tile floor, water running, that he realizes what’s next and he’s…well, he’s nervous. 

He holds his breath while you take down your shorts, thumbs looping into the straps of your bathing suit to start pulling it down. He braces himself, watching some sand come down with the red fabric while you tug it further over your chest, down your stomach until it’s on the floor. Every inch of you available for him to see, and it doesn’t feel like the horny sexual guttural reveal he has imagined it to be. It feels different, eyes scanning over you, your decolletage, your breasts, the peak of your nipples, the dimples in your skin just above your stomach. Your belly, your thighs, the smattering of cellulite where they meet, following all the way down to your toes. Eddie regards you like a painting, like something too sacred to touch. A tug pulls in his ribcage, butterflies in his stomach, throat getting tight where he almost wants to cry. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. So beautiful that it’s unfair. 

“Wow…” he whispers, delicate and subdued. A smile spreads across your face, so bright and genuine that he melts. 

“I’m guessing that’s a good wow,” you infer, pulling back the shower curtain to step in. He catches a glimpse at the back of you, sucking in a breath at the curve of your thighs and hips, meeting to prop up a butt cheek while one foot stays on the lip of the tub. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s um, it’s a really good wow,” he answers, albeit dumbly. 

“You coming in, too?” you ask, stepping fully behind the curtain. 

“Yep, yeah,” Eddie nods, hurrying back to himself only to feel the aching tension in his pants. He groans internally, humiliation bubbling in his belly like he got called on in class to come to the board. This was going to happen eventually, right? You were going to see it eventually? So why is it so weird thinking about being in the shower with you. You know he has one, it’s not weird, it’s not…a surprise. 

Just take your pants of, Munson, c’mon, he urges to himself. He awkwardly shimmies his trunks down, folding down the boxer briefs beneath them where sand had collected uncomfortably in side. 

Sand in my fucking ball sack and now I have to go stand in the shower with her? Are you kidding? he grumbles internally. His shirt gets pulled over his head and he’s face to face with himself in the mirror over the sink. A dusting of freckles forming on his shoulders in the soft pink of the mild sunburn, a little burn on the bridge of his nose. Tattoos vibrant against skin that just never seems to get enough sun. 

Eddie leaves his rings in Tatianna’s jewelry bowl that they started to share when Tatianna taught him that his jewelry will last longer if he stops showering with it on. As his silver chains drizzle in next to his rings, he takes a breath, turning toward the shower curtain where he can already smell his body wash wafting through the steam. 

“Did you start without me?” he asks, fingers taking in the fabric. 

“You’re taking forever, and I hate feeling sandy,” you respond. He steps in, the warm water hitting his toes, seeing yours where the suds hit to go down the train. When he looks up to see you, he gulps – not only naked, but naked and soapy. 

Jesus Christ, he sighs in his head. Any sense of calming down his cock had long since passed now. 

“Sorry,” he says quietly, hand covering himself while he steps in.

“It’s okay,” you assure, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. Eddie’s cheeks redden when he watches you scan over him, a satisfied smile pulling your cheeks toward your eyes, “Hey, you.” 

“Hey,” he chokes out, the ease of talking to you and getting you flustered is suddenly harder than it’s ever been before. With a nervous step forward, he reaches for your hips, bruised and rough fingertips sliding over your skin from his assault on his guitar earlier this week. Eddie gulps when he steps fully behind you, his length pressing flat against him between the two of you with a friction that makes both get a hitch in your breath. 

He leans in to print a kiss on your shoulder, a waft of cedar, bergamot, and vetiver on your skin. Another kiss and he leans his forehead against it while you both stand in the stream of the water. 

“You are…” he trails off, taking a shuddering inhale, “You are so, so beautiful.” 

One hand stays on your hip while to other travels up to your waist, to just under your breasts. Slipping and sliding on the soap and water mixing on your skin with left over sunscreen to be washed down the drain. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, headiness deepening your voice. Neither of you move too quickly, letting him press kisses over you before finally kissing your lips to switch sides in the shower. He lathers up and you see it. Your brows raising in surprise while he lets the water soak his curls. 

“What?” he asks with a cheeky grin. 

“You know what,” you laugh. 

“No, I don’t know what,” it’s a tease and he knows that, but it’s still fun to watch you get like this. 

“You weren’t lying when you said – when you y’know…” 

“When I said…?” 

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes, embarrassment evident on your face, “When you said it was big.” 

“Oh yeah,” he nods coolly, scrubbing shampoo into his hair, “Why would I lie about that?” 

And despite his half chill demeanor at the comment, he is fucking cheering so loud in his head that you think this about him and are saying it outloud. 

“Well don’t get a big head,” you joke, taking the remaining wash cloth from the edge of the tub and loading it with water and soap, “It’s more important that you know how to use it.” 

He tilts his head at you after rinsing out the shampoo, “Be honest, do I look like a guy that doesn’t know how to use it?” 

“Like I said before,” you reach forward with the washcloth, massaging it onto his shoulder, “We don’t know each other.” 

It’s the way you touch him and the mild scolding that makes his knees weak. You’re soft but deliberate, sudsing him up on his chest and back while he smooth conditioner in his hair. A muffled moan comes from his diaphragm when you ease the cloth over his lower belly, soap catching on the hair of his happy trail. Your eyes flick up at him mischievously, stepping closer to him to give him a kiss. Eddie sighs into it, letting the water pour down his back and rinse the conditioner out while he leans in rest a hand on your cheek, the other takes the wash cloth from you. 

“Do you not want me to do it?” you ask sheepishly. 

“I want you to do it way too much,” he smirks against your lips, quickly leaning down to get his legs and nether regions, “But thank you, you’re very sweet.” 

There’s plenty of hot water left, and it doesn’t go to waste. Both of you standing in the shower, soapy and fresh where you both feel safe enough to explore. His hands roam the expanse of you, trailing from the top of your neck down to your ass, cupping your breasts and with a gentle squeeze while you both gasp between kisses. His rigid length stays pressed between you, leaking pitifully while snuggly hugging your hip bone. 

You leave his kiss bitten mouth to nip at his jaw, down further to run your tongue from the base of his neck to the shell of his ear. Unable to hold back anymore, he whines. Needy and desperate, he does it again when your tongue flicks at his earlobe. 

“Mmm’god,” he breathes, slurring. He feels your smile against his skin when you go back to his neck, embarrassed at the reveal of his sensitive ears and jugular. Your tongue traces the tattoo on his right peck, some scratchy shitty demon head he got when he was sixteen from some older kid in his living room. Wayne would’ve made him sleep outside if it hadn’t gotten infected and needed attention. Eddie keeps meaning to get it covered, but by the way you’re kissing over it he thinks maybe he’ll keep it around. 

He twitches when you get to his ribs, a sharp inhale making him stand rigid while you move further down his body. Your hands rest on his stomach and glide to his thighs while you take your place on your knees in the cramped tub. His cock standing at attention straight out, reddening at the tip, in some way knowing there’s a girl staring right at it without his brain needing to send the signal. 

“This okay?” you ask, looking up at him with dew drops in your lashes. He nods, afraid that if he speaks he’ll just spill all over, one false move and he’ll end the night before it even began. 

You move slow, hands just under the swell of his butt. You bypass his erection and kiss his hip bone, then his pelvis. He shivers, hand gripping the shower curtain rod, white knuckling the ceramic coated metal while your breath coasts over his shaft. 

Your wet tongue runs flat from base to tip, making his eyes shut tight. 

“Shit,” he whimpers and you chuckle. He could just die, feeling the vibration of it on his head where your tongue stays. Your hand grips him gently, pumping him while you keep the top half in your mouth and against your lips. He cracks his eyes open to look down at you, mouth hanging open at the immediate eye contact he gets from you looking up at him. Mouth full and eager, wet and hot. 

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, free hand delicately resting on the back of your head. You continue your double duty for a few more stroke before dropping your hand. Your eye contact stops, determination in your brow when he feels your mouth and throat open up around him. Your head moving further down his shaft with skill – snug and tight. He thrusts forward slightly, moaning as you work with his hips. Eddie feels himself tighten, the heat in his belly growing to a steady and churning thrum. 

You like the challenge of getting him off and he can tell by how you keep going, down far enough that you gag and as much as he hates himself for it the sound sends him hurtling towards release. With a cruel bite to his inner cheek he holds back, but the sight of you with spit trailing from your mouth to his shaft does little to aid in settling him down. Almost pornographic. 

You wipe your mouth, reaching your hand out to stroke him again, but as your mouth leans in to start up he pulls his hips back.

“Baby, baby, wait stop–” he whines, moving away. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask, putting your hands on your thighs. 

“I just..wow I –” he collects himself, offering his hand to help you stand up on the slippery tub floor, “I haven’t um – wow, I haven’t had my dick sucked in a – in a long time and I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna cum yet.” 

Your worry turns into a cocky and confident smirk, “Oh, was that where that was heading?” 

He takes another ragged breath to steady himself, “Don’t get slick, we got all night.” 

You kiss until the water turns cold. 

Two boxes of pizza sit open on the coffee table in front of the couch you’re both snuggled up in. Both of your bellies are full and eyes drowsy in the glow of the TV. The sun had made its way down and the weather cooled off considerably, the breeze from the windows keeping you both under blankets with your bodies wrapped around each other in a cozy post carb bliss. 

“This is honestly all I’ve wanted for weeks,” Eddie murmurs. 

“What is?” you ask, tilting your head up so the tip of your nose hits his cheek. 

“This,” he says softly, “Being all snuggled up on my couch with you.” “You’re so cheesy,” you tease. 

“Yeah, that’s something you should get to know about me,” he says into a kiss, “M’super cheesy.” 

“Huge tool,” you nod, another kiss. 

“It’s really bad,” he agrees, “I’m so annoying.” “So annoying,” you mumble, tongue striping his lower lip. He grants you access with ease, tongue dancing with yours while you maneuver your way onto his lap like you had after Steve’s party. 

“Snuggled up on my couch with no one to interrupt us,” he says, looking up at you with desperate eyes, “Right?” 

You bite your lip nervously, the confidence from the shower ebbing away even in the heat of the moment, “Right.” “Come with me,” he says, voice sweet and slow like molasses. Eddie eases you off his lap, taking your hand to bring you into his bedroom – which he scrubbed to sparkling the night before. At the foot of his bed he kisses your cheek, fingers running over the hem of your sleep shirt, no longer a sputtering idiot but smooth in his movements while he eases it off you. 

He leans down to kiss your neck, earning him a breathy sigh while your back arches into him. His thumbs tuck under the band of your sweats and panties, letting them fall to the floor by your feet – easing you on to your back on his comforter. 

He takes down his own sweats, half hard as he climbs onto the bed on his knees, kneeling between yours. Your arms come up to snake under his, wrapping around his back, hands landing on his traps. He relents leaning down on his forearms so you’re skin to skin, chest to chest. Your noses brush, Eddie using his to angle your face to him, pressing your foreheads together, the tops of your lips touching. 

“This is okay, right?” he asks, the warm white glow of the rope light on his far wall illuminating the frizz in his curls like a halo. It cradles your face, bouncing off your eyes that look so sweet at him. 

“I think if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be naked under you right now,” you say back, barely audible. 

“Right, right,” he chuckles, lips attaching to yours with needy hunger. He stiffens below the belt, groaning when your hips roll up to meet his, when your legs wrap around him. But he can’t just start like that, pushing up again onto his hands. 

“I gotta go down on your first,” he huffs. 

“I mean I’m not gonna say no,” you laugh, he laughs too. A pepper of pecks following from your lips and down your chest, he takes fond care of your nipples on the way down. Tongue and teeth gently nipping and licking while his fingers explore between your legs. 

“Eddie…” your breathy call of his name sends a shiver through him, feeling how wet you are already just from having him pressed up against you like this. 

“That feels good?” he asks tentatively, meeting his fingers between your thighs. 

“Mhm,” you sigh, back arching slightly while his face disappears and all that can be seen are the tops of his curls. He dips and swirls his tongue in all the ways you liked before, burying himself deeper the more you react. Each desperate cry spurring him on to continue, each pump of his fingers inside you making you clench around the digits. 

“You taste,” he starts, replacing his fingers with his tongue at your entrance for a bit before breaking to your inner thigh, “so, so good.” 

“Please do that again,” you whine, weak and pitiful. He obliges without hesitation, keening into your touch when you grip his hair at the crown. It stings but he likes it, it stings and he wonders how hard you can pull. When you start to get loud he lifts his head up, brows raised under his fluffy bangs. 

“Wow,” he smiles into a snicker, “Y’know, I got neighbors sweetheart.” 

“Oh my god,” you laugh shakily, covering your face, “M’sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says with a shake of his head, crawling back up your body. He moves your hands away, looking down at you, “You’re not fuckin’ with me, right?” 

You shake your head no, “I’m not fucking with you it’s — yeah, even better the second time.” 

He shrugs with a cheesey grin, “Well y’know I’m kinda—”

“Don’t be a dweeb,” you put two fingers to his lips, “Shut up and fuck me.” 

Eddie chokes on his words, “Oh, yes uh — yes ma’am, absolutely.” 

He nervously climbs over you to get to his side table drawer, the box of condoms he found last week sitting undisturbed. He rips the foil open with his teeth, taking his time to roll it on while you turn to your side to watch him. 

“It’s bad for your teeth to do that,” you note. 

“Is that your concern right now?” he asks, looking up from under his brow while he finishes the task. 

“I’m just saying,” you shrug. He motions you further up the bed, settling between your legs again, taking a chance to admire you below him. Soft curves and skin, legs pressed against your chest and splayed open for him, a peace offering after years of not getting it right. You were right. 

“You’re just saying?” he replies with the tilt of his head, smoothing back down to press himself against you, a bruising kiss in his wake, “S’that it? You were just saying?” 

“Mmmhmm,” your response is muffled against his lips, a low whine bubbling through your kiss as his tip catches between your legs. Neither of you take pause, his hips buck forward, still wrapped up in you and again until he feels it. The firm pressure of your core wrapped around him, sucking him in to the hilt. 

“Jeeesus Christ,” he groans in your ear, pressing his face into your neck. He can tell he’s stretching you out, feeling your nails dig into his back in a sting that feels just as delicious as you pulling his hair. 

“Oh my god,” a strangled moan leaks from your throat in a head voice. Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, letting himself rock into you steadily, supporting himself on one arm and the other making it’s way behind your knee to keep you spread open. He pushes up a little, hair falling forward on one side, curtaining one side of your face. 

It’s more than he could’ve imagined, kicking himself for not getting it right in all the day dreams he had of this moment, you look serene. Brows slightly pinched, mouth open to let out all your little huffs and sounds. Your arms let go of him as he raises over you, laying back with your palms up toward the ceiling by your head. He watches as your breasts bounce on your chest, the gentle jiggle in your arms, the arch in your back. 

“Kiss me,” you breathe,aching, “Please.”

And how can he deny you when you ask like that? Maintaining his position he cranes his neck down to latch himself onto you, feeling your hands cup his face. Eddie grunts into the kiss, speed picking up while he chases the pleasure beating like a drum in his body, each lewd smack of skin against skin making him hungry for more. 

You moan wantonly into his mouth, making him moan in return, trying to find any angle and speed to make you keep making those sounds. Neighbors be damned. He pulls out to pull you by the thighs flush to him, pushing back in without a breath and you wail. He can feel your walls squeeze down on him, warm and tight, even tighter when he pushes your legs back up against your chest. From here, he can tell this position works for you – which is perfect because it’s working even better for him. 

“Sh-i-hi-hit, baby,” he grunts, sweat starting to sheen across your skin, “This good?” 

“Yeah.” He has to shut his eyes again, think of something bad so that he doesn’t bust at the sound of you whining like that. Like an amateur porn star who never fakes it. 

“Yeah?” he teases, snaking back down to kiss your neck. 

“Oh god…” you nearly blubber. 

He coasts his lips over you until landing at that spot that he found on his couch a couple weeks ago. The tip of his tongue teasing at first before letting his teeth graze it with his lips. 

“Oh! Oh fuck,” you yelp. He holds in a laugh, nipping and sucking on your neck while your hips meet his thrusts. 

“Oh god, fuck - fuck more,” you groan, voice ragged while he keeps the pace in his hips. Another bright sting accosts him when one of your hands drags down the expanse of his back from under his shoulder blade. 

With a growl he feels you cum, clamping down on him – but you’re so slick that it doesn’t deter his thrusts. You pulse, moans and cries peeling off into a high pitched whisper while he slows down inside of you before coming to a stop. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Y-yeah just…need a sec,” you sigh, “Need a breather.” 

“That’s okay,” he soothes, running his hands comfortingly over your thighs. 

“Are you having fun?” you ask between deep inhales. 

“Oh, I’m having a blast,” he confirms with a laugh, settling back on his calves while you collect yourself, “Are you?” 

“God,” you reply, exasperated, “I knew you were trouble.” “Doesn’t answer my question,” he says with a quirk of his lips. 

“I’m having a lot of fun,” you nod, a sleepiness pulling at your eyes, “Can I say something?” 

“Always.” 

“I thought you’d be a sex playlist kind of guy.” 

“Excuse me?” he asks. 

“You just gave me a ‘has a sex playlist’ vibe,” you shrug. 

“Why do you think that? What vibe?” Eddie’s tone falls under bewilderment, “Do you think I need music on so I can fuck?” 

“I don’t know, you’re a music teacher maybe that’s just your thing,” you laugh at his surprise and mild offense. 

“I don’t need a beat to know what I’m doing, babe, that’s just disrespectful,” he jokes. 

“I was a little surprised when you didn’t go to your stereo to be like ‘Let me just set the mood,’” you’re teasing him on purpose now, it makes his heart skip a beat. That quick mouth of yours coming back full force – he likes you like this. He could love you like this. 

“Set the mood? I’m not setting the mood enough for you, hm?” “You just have a very ‘let me play grunge while I get it on’ sort of energy going on–” “Listen, listen, enough,” he waves you off to shut you up, “Your break is up if you’re gonna use it to make fun-a-me, flip over.” 

“Flip over? Yeah?” you challenge. “Yeah,” he challenges back, gripping you at the hips, “Flip over.” 

Seeing you in an arch like this turns his brain to mush, ass in the air with hips that follow down into your waist and back out again. He smirks, readying himself behind you while his hand smooths over the swell of your hip. 

“I could get very used to this,” he murmurs to himself. 

“Nice view up there, Munson” you ask, cheek pressed up against his pillows. You wiggle your hips against him, tantalizing and slow. 

“Very, very nice,” he assures. He guides his still aching length to your entrance, and he can tell even half way in that this is a position that works for you. Already gripping the sheets next to you before his hips make it align with yours. He doesn’t let it deter him, backing up to give you a not so delicate thrust all the way into you. 

You let out a surprised huff. 

“See what happens when you make fun?” he coos. 

“I will make fun of you all the time if this is what I’m getting out of it,” you smirk. This playfulness is something he missed, feeling familiar, even in this position. He looks you over again, your body a stunning expanse infront of him – not afraid to do what he needs, not afraid to break you. 

Things with Chrissy had been fine, sure. But there felt like there was so much more possibility here, snug tight inside you. 

“Hmm, I’ll make a note of that,” he grits out, steadying himself before starting up a rhythm. He leans his head back with a desperate groan, fingertips sinking into the fat of your hips harder with every ‘plap! plap! plap!’ of his pelvis against your backside. The downside is not getting nearly as good of a view of your face, but if it saves the neighbors from ringing the bell he’s all for it. You’re loud enough with your face in the pillow. 

He sputters, hands moving from hips to waist when you bounce back against him. 

“Shit, doll,” he growls, watching your ass bounce in double time. Every meeting of his thrusts tugs on him quicker, his resolve faltering when you start to come undone under him again. He has no qualms with how easy it is to get you there, in fact, he makes a mental note to try to beat the high score every time. 

Your thighs and hips give way, pressing back down into the mattress where he follows. Eddie readjusts while you catch your breath, letting you lay flat on your belly with your legs together. 

“Stay like this, hm?” he says in a whisper in your ear, kissing your temple. 

“Hmm,” you respond, eyes fluttering closed. 

He settles over your thighs, reaching down to part your lips that are soaked and puffy with latent need. He’s close, and knowing he’s essentially fucked you to sleep is doing nothing but getting him closer. Pushing in slow, with your legs together, makes him shudder. You squeeze your thighs and while he can’t see you he knows you’re smirking to yourself. 

“Hmm, keep doin’ that for me,” he mumbles headily. 

“S’it feel good?” you ask. 

“S’real good, baby,” he murmurs back tightly, still quiet. The ends of his hair tickle your back while he leans forward over you, drilling you hard into the mattress. 

“Oh god, fuck,” he growls when you squeeze your thighs and walls again, “Fuck, baby, just like that.” 

He lets his breath run through his nose like a bull, groaning and grunting before an aching moans pools of out him – spilling into the condom while inside you. 

Pulling out, he takes a heaving breath, taking care of the condom and collapsing beside you. 

“Holy shit,” he sighs, looking at you with glassy eyes. 

“You gonna make it?” you ask with a raise of your brow. Body like dead weight, he wills himself closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms over the covers. 

“If not, that’s totally fine,” he says into your temple, “Dying right now would be totally fine.” 

“Well don’t,” you say back, “I’d prefer you didn’t.” 

“Okay, I won’t," his eyes close with the scent of you in his nose, lulling him to sleep. “Thanks," your sleeply reply vibrates against his chest where your face stay planted in comfort. “You’re welcome.” 

Eddie wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing in the living room, eyes peering open blearily to the sun pouring in from his window. He flicks his eyes over to you, seeing your bare back and steady breaths. Fast asleep. 

He eases out of bed, grabbing his boxers off the floor before making it to the living room on the balls of his feet so he doesn’t step too loudly. At the flip of his phone he’s assaulted with the reflection of himself on an incoming FaceTime call. He answers it, rubbing his eyes when a happy scream echoes through the speaker of his phone. 

“I’m a FIANCEEEEEE!” Tatianna screams from behind her hand, the rock on her finger front and center in the camera.

“Congratulations,” he sing songs, speaking low, “Hold on, hold it a little further away from the camera so I can see.” 

Tatianna flips the camera to show off her ring in the sunlight, Eddie’s heart flutters when it glitters and catches in the rays. She flips the camera back to her, beaming from ear to ear. 

“Did you know?” she asks. 

“Of course I knew,” he says matter of factly, “I’ve known for months. I helped make it happen.” 

“He did so good, Ed,” Tatianna smiles, “Sunrise? He really like – he knows me. That’s my husband! AHHHH!” 

Eddie laughs again but shushes himself, remembering you’re still asleep in the other room. 

“Why’re you being quiet? Oh shit – she’s there huh?” she grins. Gareth makes his way into frame, passing her a glass of champagne. 

“Yeah, guys, she’s here,” he nods, “And she’s sleeping. Otherwise I’d be screaming too.” 

“Sure there was plenty of screaming last night if she’s sleeping,” Gare nudges Tati who nudges him back. Eddie let’s them laugh at him because it would be even worse if they were actually there.

“Everything’s good though? Rob texted me saying things kind of went left but I didn’t want to bring it up if you didn’t bring it up to us,” she asks, sun gleaming off her skin and bright blue bikini top. 

“Everything’s good, we’ll talk about it when you come back,” he assures. 

“Well we don’t wanna interrupt, then,” Gare says, leaning in to kiss Tati on the cheek and then her lips, glossy with champagne. 

“It’s more like I don’t want to interrupt you,” Eddie says back, “I’ll call you later. Love you both.” “Love youuuu,” Tatianna calls back, “I’mma fianceeeee!” 

They cut the call with their mouths on each other and he’s sure he won’t hear back from them for at least a day. He’s glad it at least all went off without a hitch. 

Leaving his phone on the coffee table, he makes his way back to the bedroom where you’re wrapped up in his covers. Running a hand over your shoulder, he gently shakes you awake. 

“Hey pretty,” he coos when your eyes open, “Was gonna make some breakfast, if you want.” 

“Wassonthemenu?” you yawn out, stretching. 

“French toast,” he offers, “I’m kind of a connoisseur.” 

“Ooh that sounds good, I don’t think I’ve had french toast in years,” you say with your eyes closed. 

“Take your time,” he kisses your forehead, “Just meet me in the kitchen.” 

When you do, he’s cracking eggs. Your slow shuffle gets his attention, turning to look at you he sees you picked up his sweats and shirt by mistake. 

“Hello, good morning,” you say stiffly, “It appears I am dressed to impress.” 

“You certainly are,” he jokes back. 

“I’m happy to get some coffee together while you make breakfast,” you offer, “Just let me know where everything is.” 

He points out where you can get started but grabs the mugs for you, giving you a sweet kiss good morning while he does. You don’t talk much, just the sounds of him cooking and the coffee machine whirring while the town wakes up around you both outside. He tells you about the engagement and that they can call again later so you can congratulate them too. You of course, gave him a reproachful look for not waking her up to start with. You pour the coffee while he plates the toast, thick and crusted over with brown sugar and cinnamon. He sets the butter and maple syrup on the center of the kitchen table while you grab plates and silverware. The domesticity makes his heart ache, because with you, it feels like this could be your house together. With you, it feels like it’s a future where he doesn’t live with Tati and Gare, and he wakes up to you every day.  He swears he smells chlorine in the air. 

“You don’t like cream or sugar, right?” you ask, putting the mug in front of him while he sits at the table. 

“I don’t, but we have some. There’s milk and cream in the fridge door and I thiiiink some stevia packets in the cabinet with all the baking stuff. That one.” 

He points to the cabinet next to the stove and you snatch a couple like gold. He sips his cup while you prepare your coffee, giggling to yourself. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“It’s just, this outfit is not what I had in mind to be wearing in front of you after a night like that,” you laugh, “I thought maybe I’d have a sexy robe on or something and instead I just –” You take a sip from your mug, shaking your head, “I look like a teenage boy from ‘07 whose about to do a kick flip for the ladies.” 

Eddie barks a laugh into his coffee cup, “You do, you look just like that.” 

“I know,” you laugh back, “But then again, I’m in your clothes. So I guess it’s you who looks like a teenager from ‘07.” 

“I can do a kick flip,” he admits. “Yeah, I’m not surprised,” you say into your next sip. 

Eddie swears he can hear the rush of water while his classmates kick on the side of the pool, his own toes on the edge of the block. 

“You know who you look like, almost exactly?” he asks, putting his mug down and meeting you at the counter. “Who?” you ask with a smile. 

“You look just like Eddie Munson’s girlfriend,” he says, hand falling on your hip. 

“Yeah?” you reply, a little taken aback, “Just like her?” 

“Spitting image,” he nods. 

“You know, before I said that thing about looking like teenage boy, I was gonna say ‘Hey, you know something? I think I look just like Eddie Munson’s girlfriend,” you beam. Your response makes his heart race, such a goofball, so like him, so easy, so right. 

He cocks his head, peering at you, “Wait, I think – wait – are you…the lead guitar player’s girl? Eddie Mnson’s girlfriend?”

You smirk, falling into the bit with him, “Oh my god yeah, that’s me – can’t get you in the show though, sold out. He’s like, a totally famous rockstar now.”

“Ah, that’s okay,” Eddie shakes his head with a winning smile, hand splaying over your waist to pull you in, “I know someone in the band.” 

A coffee flavored kiss seals the deal. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears the shrill call of Miss Tiffany’s whistle. 

He nails the dive every time.

[cakeinthevoid]

Carrie couldn’t believe their eyes. They didn’t dare move, or do anything that would alert Willow that they saw them. Saw them smiling.

it was a soft smile, barely there and yet it shone on their still too-pale, too-thin, too-hurt face.

Carrie pulled their gaze away from the glass doors to the room behind her and finished the motion of refilling their drink. The glimpse they managed to steal was only because they were too lazy to pull the cooler all the way out onto the porch; they had just pulled it out as close as possible, resulting in the sleek porch door being propped open by their ugly blue cooler. Apparently there was another benefit besides not having to drag it over the threshold—the music from their dingy old speaker could flow back easily into the house. Carrie reached, opened and closed the cooler gently so as not to disturb Willow—who was only sitting a few meters away—and refilled their glass with a fizzy beverage, hissing from the can. A quick look over their shoulder confirmed Willow was still leaning peacefully against the wall, nodding softly to the beat of the song.

They haven’t looked this at peace since… Carrie honestly couldn’t say. It’s not like they’ve known each other for very long. One day the institution came by, dropped Willow off in a cage of all things with barely a week of warning, and expected Carrie to deal with them. How they decided Carrie of all people would be best suited to the task was beyond them. They weren’t even sure Willow spoke the same language—although they seemed to understand simple phrases well enough. And beyond that, there was the matter of the case file; it was almost completely redacted. What was legible didn’t seem all that reliable—was Willow really their name?—but Carrie was in no position to question the word of the institute. That was the world they all lived in now, it seemed. The song change pulled Carrie out of their thoughts. They looked at their drink. The fizz was at a tolerable level now at least. They sipped at it as they picked up their phone to check what the last song was. Then they created a new playlist—‘Possible Willow Faves’—and added the song. It looked like a pretty sad playlist with one song, even if that one song was rather upbeat, but Carrie still smiled to themself. It felt like the beginning of something new and good. Something hopeful.

Ive been having this thought for awhile now about a Caretaker who takes in or is given a Whumpee to care for to help rehabilitate them, help them find their sense of person again.

Though the Whumpee this specific Caretaker gets, Is mute– or just refuses to talk, or possibly is foreign and doesn't understand Caretakers Language well enough.

Caretaker trys many different ways to try to connect with Whumpee, to help gain their trust but up until this point, nothing was helping.

Until Caretaker was sitting outside in the patio, listening to a favorite band if theirs one late afternoon and couldn't help but notice Whumpee in the corner of their eye, leaning against the door lightly while subtly smiling, softly nodding their head to the beat.

Overtime caretaker quickly learned that Whumpee loves music not just one but all types of genres, It seemed their favorite was classical music, or purley instrumental. It was the first time Caretaker felt they were helping since taking in Whumpee, a sign for a progressive future in recovery.

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem with OP Mage MC pt. 2

Right so... this is longer than i intended and more detailed than intended, i humbly ask for your forgiveness for this reading more like a fanfic one-shot 😭 Theres just so much you can do with this idea and i wanted to do the SF brothers justice, this is less anti-harem centric and more daily life of MC centric so do what you will with it - id love to hear some thoughts on this though, im genuinely considering writing a full blown fic abt this prompt and writing out ideas here helps convince me. Also watch me turn SF Sans into a closeted fangirl in real-time bc i CAN and i WISH TO and i WILL... tee hee 😍 HT for next part maybe? idk hdafejkkl

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Months passed since the new recruit arrived, and you had spent most of those months avoiding the household all together, not that any of them were in any hurry to seek you out. Actually - apart from passing glares and avoidant glances the skeletons had seemed to avoid you all together now, and it didn't take you long to realize that it was the newbies doing. It seems the brothers had already begun to switch all their official mage dealings with the newbie, and you overheard them one night speaking of how nice it'll be once you were gone. It hit you hard, the unbridled JOY that came from those words. The first smile in months had graced your expression, this annoying assignment would be done soon, and you didn't even have to look for a replacement. Of course there was a technical issue there, the recruit was weak, you doubted they could handle the responsibility, but you'd be damned if you had to be reassigned to the brothers again due to their own poor judgement. You set up barrier upon barrier on the furthest borders of the property, weaving old and powerful magic unseen by the untrained eye, as invisible as a spider thread in the deep dark of night.

The day came sooner than anticipated, a sunny morning wrapped in late spring dew when an official courier brought you the sealed reassignment papers, you wasted very little time. There were no goodbyes, nobody to see you off, no see you laters. You just packed your bags and left, deciding to celebrate your release from this mock hell with a feast of your own making. 

Days passed easily after that, your new assignment had been similar in that you were still expected to deal with monsterkind. As the official top ranking mage you were expected to oversee the immigration process of the newer species - finding them homes and determining the new borders, on paper that is - in actuality you were there in case it all went to shit. You were there to evaluate how big of a threat these newcomers were, and if all of it went down the drain, expectation fell to you to play both judge and executioner. It was all a terrible diplomatic hassle, endless meetings with diplomats and officials from both sides, meetings with the kings and queens, correspondence between the Archmage and the people on the ground, endless evaluations and negotiations. Where they lived, were they safe, were they able to integrate, political and financial concerns, provisions and temporary shelters were now your everyday cause for headache. It was there you met a pair of somewhat similar faces.

 Black and Mutt were skeletons, and that fact had not given you the best first impression - unbecoming of you perhaps, to judge a book by its cover, but months of threats and insults could change even the most unbiased of people. The two were a tad different from the others however, something you found curious if not a bit strange, they were… respectful, if not a bit stiff. Charged as part of the Royal Guard - they worked closely with the rulers of Mtt. Ebbot, so you saw them often escorting officials to and from meetings. You had no reason to approach them, coming from the other side as you were, you technically outranked them quite a bit in the merging hierarchy, but it was one stormy night that made you all grow quite a bit closer in an alarmingly short period of time.

A pack of fiends had snuck their way into one of the lesser guarded shelters outside of Mtt. Ebbott, cunning creatures that fed off of magic. They were hardly a threat alone, even an apprentice mage could take on two by themself - unfortunately due to that fact they tended to gather in numbers, the recorded largest amount was around forty if you remembered right, this however, this was beyond your imagination.

You should have predicted it,it was your miss, your meager miscalculation, of course they would be drawn here, a cave sealed off for centuries, brewing magic for centuries, a breeding ground for anything magic, broken for the first time in centuries. You responded quickly, but by the time you got there it was already chaos, the loud thrum of magic permeated the air and both monsters and humans were rushed off of the scene, the ground was bloodied, a sign that you were already late. You assessed the scene as you rushed past the terrified civilians, you would need to clean it up quickly. 

The resisting force had taken damage but they were holding, human and monster guards stationed at the furthest gate fighting off the onslaught of fangs and burning eyes. You took notice of the two skeletons fighting beyond the gate, they worked well together, soldiers of significant skill - you sped past them, an order to pull back immediately flew past your lips and you moved further into the swarm, Black had called after you but you tuned it out, as daunting as the situation seemed it was still below your paygrade.

It was a single spell, a light that lit up the sky, a deafening bang that rattled the ground and the job was done. Your hands stung from the forced speed of the cast, but you remained unscathed as you stood among the scattered ashes, burning flesh permeated the air. You sighed, the ever present mountain of paperwork on your desk was bound to double in size.

It was all damage control after that, rushed orders to your subordinates and rebinding of the barriers, but when you stepped past the gate once again to scout out the surrounding for any remaining threats is when the two skeleton guards approached you, they demanded to go with you- well the shorter one did anyway, it made your brows raise - there weren't many people left in the world that demanded things from you. You looked them both over, amusement in your eyes, and agreed, a challenge to keep up on your tongue.

After that things had slightly shifted, the skeletons greeted you upon meeting, saluted you upon leaving, you began to notice more monsters approach you with official papers or directives, it was an odd thing, mainly because you reflected on how joined it seemed all of a sudden. Before the attack you were mostly responsible for the human mages and soldiers on base, now it seemed your responsibilities grew their own legs and danced around the monsters as well. You saw more of the skeletons, Black in particular seemed curious, even though he never admitted it or outwardly showed it, it was subtle but you noticed, he often joined you for your nightly rounds even when not required to, it was a bit awkward at first, silent patrolling of the grounds, you had nothing to really speak about, and it seemed neither did he. You could not for the life of you figure out why he took such a sudden interest in your company but you also were curious how long he would keep it up, besides, having him accompany you seemed to put the other monsters at ease.It was on one of those rounds when you finally addressed him, he seemed surprised that you had, shoulders stiff, back straight as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Don't you have more important things to do?” You asked, the question seemed harsh, but its harshness dissipated by the lightness of your tone, echoed by the stone hall in the moonlit night. He had opened his mouth but it was a moment before he responded, seemingly not expecting conversation, he turned away clearing his throat as he set himself to rights.

“OF COURSE NOT, THE SECURITY OF THESE GROUNDS IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE. CONSIDERING THE DISASTER FROM TWO WEEKS AGO ITS MORE EFFICIENT TO DO IT MYSELF.” 

You hummed, continuing to walk, listening to the sharp sound of his footfalls a step behind you.

“Would it not be better to split up then?” You asked, your tone still light, your eyes observing him with a knowing glint.

“W-WELL YES, BUT FOUR EYES ARE BETTER THAN ONE, AND IT WILL SAVE TIME IF WE DO SPOT SOMETHING AND NEED A MESSENGER.”

And your guess proved right, his reasoning was weak at best, there was no need for both of you to do rounds together - you could clock a threat miles away even in the pitch black, and you knew for a fact that Black could handle himself well enough, and yet he seemed to want to be in your shadow all the same, you chuckled, but did not voice your thoughts. 

Your relationship seemed to steadily improve after that, every now and again you would walk the shelter grounds together, and every now and again you'd exchange conversation albeit a short one, but it beat the awkward silence that was there in the beginning.

Mutt was different, he didn't seem to hold as much intrigue towards you as his brother, he was more so there by default as he seemed to almost always stay by his brother's side, in fact the only time you saw either of them apart was when Black joined you in securing the premises. The taller brother was an enigma, you had not heard him speak once since your assignment, a part of you wondered if he even could. But he didn't seem outwardly volatile either, more so apathetic towards the goings on around him. That opinion switched one busy day where a scheduling error had made the three of you take an overnight shift guarding a group of pompous diplomats. It was a nightmare, twelve straight hours of listening to empty boasts and endless rants about the economy, even you had begun to space out, this was probably worse than those month long scouting missions in Siberia you were forced into back in training.

 You noticed the brothers were reaching their limit as well, you worried Black would leave indents in his skull with the force he was gritting his teeth and you were sure Mutt was half asleep as he wobbled on his feet, skull falling every odd minute or so. 

It was a couple hours later when you found out you were scheduled for two more babysitting sessions except they were both at the same time, and both had human and monster envoys, Black seemed to mirror your frustration as you checked and rechecked the schedule. 

One way or another you had organized a lower ranking mage qualified for escort duty to take your place for one of them, and Black had given his brother the order to attend the same one as you as he himself took the other, rushed words of “IT’LL BE QUICKER IF EACH OF US TAKES ONE.” after which you parted, the vote of confidence made you chuckle.

It was another four hours when you wondered if Mutt had passed away standing on his feet, he hadnt moved in a good hour or two, and skeletons didn't need to breathe so he remained deathly still. He stood behind the officials chair like a statue carved from marble, quite an unsettling sight considering the early hours of the morning and the sharp looming shadows casting off of him. The human envoys seemed to agree with you, considering the nervous glances being cast his way amidst the conversation, and you couldn't help but find the situation amusing. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the frustrations of your job but you decided to hurry the meeting along with a mischievous play of magic, lest you join Mutt in his nap. A moving shadow here, the caw of a crow there and what do you know, suddenly all business has been magically taken care of.

You had woken the looming skeleton with the good news and watched as he attempted to stifle a yawn, he had checked his phone and noted that his brother had not been graced with the same fortune as you. You had asked if he would wait - a nod, you offered your office - a moment of silence, but after a while, another nod.

It was another hour at your desk, finishing up some paperwork when you heard gentle snoring on your office couch, a comfy thing that had served you many times for a bed in the days where your job kept you from home, the sound made you blink slowly to the skeleton that occupied it.

Your own exhaustion made you zone out in thought, the sight had an enviable peacefulness to it, it's perhaps why you didn't notice the phone that fell with a quiet thump out of Mutts pocket. It vibrated, once, twice, then for a third time, screen lighting up repeatedly. You rose from your seat, bones popping as you sighed and made your way over, if it was Black then it was probably asking where Mutt was, you should wake him.

Is what you thought anyway, what ended up happening was you being trapped in an iron grip stuck to a dead asleep skeleton. It happened so quickly and out of nowhere that you didn't even have time to process it, the long hours awake didn't help either. One second you're reaching for his shoulder and the next you're halfway on top of said skeleton, limbs wound around limbs. You blanked, what even was this situation, you never took Mutt for a cuddler, his grip is crushing, impressive for someone with no muscle, wait hold on.

You attempted to pull away, but the answering growl and tightening hold let you know that the skeleton didn't agree with that choice of options, subconsciously or not. Waking him up seemed a thing that you should do, but the option flew right out of the door once you thought about how this would all register with him once he woke up, it was embarrassing really. You attempted once again to move off of him but he turned, and dragged you along with him further into the couch. Ah, you had made it worse. Couch cushions pressed in your back and a very large and a very asleep skeleton pressing you into his ribcage, it seems he intended to keep you for a body pillow, now what.

The door slammed open and you blanked once again, this was a nightmare, you prayed it wasn't some disgruntled diplomat come to complain to you about something. You attempted to lift your head to see but the grip on you made your back pop and you groaned, breath knocked out of you.

“MUTT! WHAT IN TORIEL'S NAME ARE YOU DOING GET OFF THIS INSTANT!! NOW YOU DOG! OFF!” The yelling was familiar and for a second you felt relief, and then dread all over again as vertigo hit you. In his panic he had rolled, rolled right off the couch and onto the cold hard ground and had taken you with him. You groaned again as you attempted to get your bearings, lifting your gaze only to be met with bright purple, you blinked and watched as slowly but surely confusion turned into realization and then straight into horror, the brightness of the flush on Mutt’s face was there for half a second before he was gone, disappearing into thin air. 

It took you a while to process the whole thing , even longer to reassure Black that it was an accident on his brother's part and that you were partly to blame for the situation as well. By the end of it all it was safe to say that you were exhausted, so you had locked up and went home, it was the morning after that you noticed that the lanky skeletons phone was still innocently laid on your carpet. You snorted, wondering whether or not the silent guard dog would come knocking on your door before late, or if it would be his ever principled brother in his stead.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 18

Danny raced through the ghost zone in a panic, how had he missed this? Appearently vlad had released Pariah Dark from his coffin again and got smeared into a paste. The mad king had then went into another dimension, hoping to conquer it and gain more power and skeleton soldiers only to be met in battle by a group of powerful warriors calling themselves the Justice League. Vlad had somehow survived the initial butt kicking and tried to use ghost tech to finally take the king down.

Unfortunately for him, pariah saw him coming in the reflection of a lady warriors blade and killed him.

Somehow the fight dragged on halfway across the US until they got to New Jersey where some billionaire guy was hosting one of his kids 18th birthday bash at his mansion. Pariah appearently crashed threw the roof, a hero dropped the weapon they had taken from Vlad and, in an effort to save his family, Brucie Wayne took the weapon and warned Pariah not to come any closer to his kids.

Pariah mocked him and raised his weapon to a young man with a white streak in his hair they was spayed across the floor in a daze.

Next thing anyone knew the King was dead.

Bruce Wayne had killed the previous king in single combat.

Bruce Wayne was the new Ghost King

Bruce Wayne was sitting on the throne in Pariahs keep looking very unsettled.

Crud. Danny needs to keep this guy and his kids safe doesn't he?

[cloveroctobers]

FIRST LOVE — Jimmy Holiday [October Prompts] 🧡

A/N: Finally got around to watching Rez Ball last night. Thank you to TikTok for putting me on! This is just a tiny little thing since the fandom doesn’t exist up here just like Rez Dogs (shockingly not shocked) and I thought it would be nice of me to feed the tag for those who are looking for some fics like I did right after I finished watching that beautiful film 🤩

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: 10. “Well…you grabbed my hand first.” + SCENARIOS — 13. Decorating for Halloween.

<- read my previous October anthology prompt here.

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

You had no business doing what you’re doing right now.

Which is exactly why you’re doing it with no parental supervision.

You’re outside using only a stool and one of the pillars that surrounded the front door to the stucco and block home as leverage to get on top of your house. You were on a mission and that mission was decorating for Halloween.

The goal was to cover the home with skeletons and spiders, almost as if it were an infestation taking over the home. The front stoop was already done with a stack of pumpkins that you DIY-ED into a tower on both sides of the door, that was easy part, but you were always up for a challenge to complete the exterior decor.

The closest thing to a ladder that you had was the stepping stool and you couldn’t “borrow” your next door neighbors anymore so you had to improvise. Already tossing a few of the skeletons in the bag up onto the home, the next task was pulling your body up and over.

You never had the best upper body strength so out of a panic, your lower half scrambled around knocking the stool over after you slipped trying to pull yourself up.

“Shit!” You exhaled, knowing that you’d have to drop yourself if you couldn’t push yourself all the up on your own. You just hoped you didn’t land the wrong way…again.

Of course you tried but your body didn’t want you to win today.

“Here,” a low voice called out as the scrapping of the stool was placed back where it once was.

Peeking only down at the stool, you placed your feet down one at a time before getting down, unknowingly taking the warm hand that helped you down the rest of the way.

Huffing you threw your head back as you sat on the stool, other hand going to block the autumn sun from your view just to peer up at some pretty hazel eyes.

“You alright?” There’s a small smile of amusement on his lips.

Jimmy Holiday.

Your heart was already racing but now the butterflies decided to start acting up too! And that’s when you realized your hand was still being held onto and you snatched it back.

“I had it.”

Jimmy folded his arms underneath his pits as he stated sarcastically, “Oh really? You would have broke some more bones if it wasn’t for me and you know it.”

Scoffing you don’t even bother to look down at the compression sleeve that covered your left knee, “First of all, I don’t need a savior Jimmy, thank you. Also, what the hell are you doing here anyway?”

Jimmy shrugs, “I was on my way to Dezbah and Bryson’s, I left something over at their spot last night and of course they’re too hungover to bring it to me so…And imagine on my way by I see: a bird? A plane? No, a whole person that looked a whole lot like you trying to get on top of their house.”

“Minding your business is free.” You sass with a flick of your hair behind you while Jimmy rolls his eyes up to the sky.

“So these are the things I get for helping you out?”

“Does that also mean holding my hand?” You argue, you knew you were being absolutely ridiculous right now but it was easier to be this way than to give in and tell the star basketball player that you wanted to kiss him right on his stupid mouth.

Jimmy furrowed his brows, “Well…you grabbed my hand first.”

Gagging you say, “I would never! I don’t know where anything on you has been.”

Jimmy smirked and lifted his chin, “yeah you did but keep being delusional and see how far that gets you.” He even kicked at your stool lightly, “It’s okay to say that you enjoy hand holding, arent girls into physical touch?”

“Please stop talking.” You mutter at that generalization, “I’m sure you can get that from any other girl who drooled over you at the party last night.”

That attitude of yours was something.

After the death of your shared friend, Nataanii Jackson the both of you grieved in different ways. Jimmy got more into basketball and you tried to distance yourself. Jimmy and Nataanii were childhood friends, whereas you moved to Chuska freshman year and met Nataanii first. At first you thought maybe he was just interacting with you because he had something to prove after becoming a warrior. You weren’t into the whole clique scene and found it hard making friends in the beginning, still highly upset that you left your small group back on another rez but you were thankful that Nataanii Jackson became a good friend of yours.

And with Nataanii came Jimmy.

The both of you often talked shit to each other and liked giving each other a hard time but underneath it all there was still love there. Then unfortunately that platonic love became something more…at least on your part.

“I think y’all would be cute,” Nataanii teased you one time at lunch during junior year, “I can see the wedding bells now and you should just tell him or I could do it for you? I make the perfect wingman.”

You almost choked on your apple juice as you watched the braided man glance over his shoulder where Jimmy was sitting with the rest of the team. There was a girl who squeezed herself right in between Jimmy and Levi, her hand running up and down Jimmy’s arm as she flirted with him and of course Jimmy was all smiles, just eating the attention right on up.

“Yo Jim—

Nataanii starts but you’re reaching over the table to yank on his collar, bringing his face closer to you so you can slap a hand right over his mouth, “Taanii no!”

You can feel him grinning underneath your hand but that doesn’t stop Jimmy making his way over to you two nonetheless.

“Why you worried about any of them anyway?”he quizzed you, eyes tightening.

Scoffing you quickly move your attention else where, picking at the loose thread from your compression sleeve, “please, far from worried.”

“You’re the one who disappeared and left early.”

“So?”

“So?” Jimmy pressed, “Why is it every time some other girls are around me, you’re nowhere to be found?”

It’s your turn to frown, “Do you want me to be sick watching them fall all over you, Jimmy? Is that going to feed your ego better or something?”

Jimmy blinks, “You know what I think? I think you’re a bad liar. Always have been.”

You snapped, “What exactly have I lied about?”

“You don’t have one of those corny guys you were talking to, to come help you with these decorations? I heard when I went off to recruitment camp, you were entertaining that lame ass dude who looks like Harry Potter.” He taunts.

Your eyes go wide.

“And who exactly did you hear that from? Your most reliable source? Bryson’s dumbass?” You get up from the stool, pulling it into place and start walking towards your front door, “Like I said, I don’t need anybody’s help, let alone some non existent guy you think I’m talking to.”

“Lies.” Jimmy coughed from behind you, which irritated you more.

Slamming the stool against the front door of the home, you ball your fist into your side, “Call me a liar one more time—

“What’s gonna happen? You and your crappy knee going to jump me or something?”

Poking your tongue into your cheek with a raise of your brow, you size him up and what did you do that for? Jimmy decided to grow his hair out for the two months he was at camp and if you weren’t so frustrated you may have completely folded.

So you shoved him, “I can still kick your scrawny ass.”

He laughs as if you didn’t, “Yeah? You’re just mad your lies caught up to you and Dez finally snitched on your ass but alright, you want to fight instead of acknowledging the truth, fine? Let’s go.”

That’s when Jimmy knew he had you because you stepped back and froze.

“What? What did she tell you?”

Jimmy shrugs trying to be coy, “That you got a crush and it ain’t on Harry Potter.”

“There is no—

You started but stopped as you bit down on your bottom lip before continuing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m getting tired of looking at your face so I’m gonna leave.”

With your back to Jimmy he decides to finally let the ball drop, “Stop being so mean and just admit that you’re in love with me already, damn.”

Deeply exhaling, you can feel your heartbeat in your ears now. Of course somebody close to you ratted you out. It was a miracle that Nataanii kept his mouth shut this long about your little crush that wasn’t so little. Yet it was Dezbah (who was most likely drunk at the time) who ratted you out. She figured it out long before you admitted it to Nataanii. And now you were ready to fight her (again.) regardless if she whooped your ass or not.

“I…”

Then you tried to book it to your front door but of course Jimmy caught you by the elbow. The guy was as tall as the street lights so surely he had the advantage.

“Nope. Not uh, stop running.” He demanded from behind you, gently pulling on you so that you’d finally face him.

He tilts your face up by the chin with his finger so you can meet his honey eyes. “…Would it be so bad if I said…I like you too?”

You laugh before covering your smile, “I’d call you a liar then.”

“I’m not,” Jimmy boldly said, “and to prove it…you should let me kiss you.”

Internally you definitely screamed but your eyes flicked to the lips you thought about way too often plenty of times before.

“How do I know you’re not just toying with me?”

Jimmy lightly shakes his head, “‘Cause I wouldn’t do that? I liked you the first moment I saw you up in the bleachers since Nataanii and I thought you wouldn’t take up his invitation to come to our practice, ‘Miss. I don’t do large crowds.’ You even rooted for me when we were still trying to get to know each other as friends and that meant a lot.” He says bringing up the memory where you skipped study hall to come to their practice which made you smile a bit before he continued, “Also my mom would probably beat my ass if she heard I broke somebody’s heart and vice versa, if my heart got broken. She doesn’t like to show it but she’s also a sucker for a good love story. So promise me you won’t break mine?”

Slowly feeling yourself nodding you say, “Okay.”

Cautiously he pinched at your chin again, guiding your face right to his. Jimmy stops just before your lips, feeling each of your breaths tickling the other while he admired how gorgeous you looked up close and personal. He even tried to tuck some hair out of the way behind your ear, taking his precious time and smiled as the hair poked right back out from your ear.

“Hurry up, scarecrow.” You mumble.

Which makes him smirk, “relax, you’re so bossy.”

“And you’re so irritating.”

Which makes him press his lips right to yours, shutting you up for good. In that moment you felt like your heart exploded as your lips moved together, noses brushing against each other. Jimmy’s lips were incredibly soft and he took his time, holding onto you with great care, even if there was a hint of static the moment your lips connected. That was enough urge to keep you two going and it felt like you could kiss him for hours.

You “hated” it.

Yet you can feel him smiling as you sighed against him just before he pulls back to get a look at you, with your eyes still closed.

“…anybody home?” He jokes.

You groan, moving to bury your head against his chest while he laughed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, “that was better than I imagined too.”

It actually felt nice to finally experience this and maybe you should be thanking Dezbah, as soon as you got over your annoyance of her ratting you out.

“…where does this leave us now?”

“Well, I’d like to take you on a date sometime.” He says pulling you back to cradle your face, with a stupid smile on his own.

That made your stomach flip, “really?”

“Yeah…if you’re down?” He peers at you from underneath his eyelashes, making sure that you knew he was serious with how intently he stared into your eyes.

You breathe out a smile, “I guess that’ll be cool…as long as you don’t eat all my food.”

“I’m a gentleman.”

“Eh…so only now you’re a gentleman? Because I can’t tell you how many times you stole a lot of my food during lunch?”

He attempts to defend himself, “…That’s what friends are for?”

“Are we that anymore?”

“Nah. Something better,” He grins as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss his lips once more.

No longer a secret, Jimmy Holiday was now yours and he already loved having you in return.

He thinks.

“I told you I had it!” You say as Jimmy lifts you up on his shoulders to help you on top of the house.

Jimmy sucks his teeth, “Stop your yappin’ baby and just accept that this is boyfriend stuff, acts of service or whatever. This is my job.”

“Who said you’re my boyfriend?” You peek out from over the top of house, pointing the skeleton hand at the olive skinned boy.

Jimmy squints up at you, “oh I’m not? I guess I can go mind my business then.”

“…Don’t you dare leave me up here!” You call out at his back.

Jimmy smirks over his shoulder at you, “that’s what I thought.”

Then a middle finger is sent his way and he can’t help but to kiss his lips up at you.

❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

Continue with my October anthology prompts here.

[notmorbid]

we could be rats.

dialogue prompts from we could be rats by emily r. austin.

that's the most insensitive thing you could have said.

i never say the right thing.

i wasn't the type of kid who wanted to be a teenager.

there were times i thought i hated you.

maybe if we'd met as adults, things would have been different.

i was the kind of kid who believed toys had hearts and souls.

nothing is ever purely good, is it? there's always a rotten piece.

i'm not depressed. i feel great.

i'm not the same person you knew.

did you feel like you knew me, the last couple of years?

i don't think i've ever been described as 'smart' before.

would it help to hear a joke?

why didn't the skeleton go to the party? because they had no body to go with.

am i getting too morbid?

i have you listed as my next of kin.

do you think i'm being insensitive and gruesome?

just bury me in a garbage bag.

i never really honed being well-mannered, did i?

i think i've accidentally made up white lies that were ruder than the truth.

creeps like us have to stay alive.

we haven't put a label on it.

i think your definition of 'creep' might be different than mine.

say i was abducted by aliens, or something.

are you mad at me? it's okay, if you are.

is my tone making you madder? i bet it is.

i don't plan to haunt you.

____ is like a comic book villain. like a caricature of a bad guy.

listen to people who have different experiences than you do.

you're being an asshole.

we're supposed to examine what's wrong, or it festers.

i used to think i could do anything.

what happened? are you hurt?

do i look normal to you?

the actual experience is never quite what's promised, is it?

it feels like i'm not the target audience for a lot of life.

tell people to fuck off more. take what you want. stir shit up.

everybody knows you.

i feel like i'm still a kid here.

i always cared about you.

everything will be fine. we'll find our way.

it didn't occur to me that not panicking was an option.

i feel sort of reborn.

it's hard to balance being both happy and considerate.

it's kinder to lie sometimes, right?

i'd rather be a pig than a cop. pigs are adorable.

being grown up feels like playing a board game with no instructions.

masks meld onto your face.

let's egg their car.

remember swinging, when you were a kid?

'to thine own self be true', or whatever.

people judge others by their own standards.

i don't remember how i got here.

i feel like i was cast as a character i'm not able to play.

i wouldn't want to live forever. would you?

i'm not sure there's a way to be alive without upsetting people.

inaction is an action.

dying is less scary than growing up.

is this actually happening? am i dreaming?

the trick to lying is to convince yourself.

i don't want you to feel sorry for me.

i feel like i don't know the things i'm supposed to. i feel like i'm pretending.

revolution is about creation, not destruction.

sometimes it's kinder to let people believe they're helping you, even when they're not.

i'd like to see where you grew up.

it sounds like a lot of people want to help you.

do you have people who want to help you?

did you egg my house?

there's no way the moon is a dude. she's got a soulful face. she's gorgeous.

we don't actually get much choice in life, do we?

i think i'm gay.

thinking about _____ sort of knocks the wind out of me.

if i hadn't met you, i'd be a totally different person.

i know i'm unbearable, but what else can i be?

i have a history of bad judgment.

what the hell did you just call me?

i'm not interested in small talk with people who offend or insult me.

i used to believe everyone was good.

i thought everyone felt that way.

did you hear it was on the news?

deep down, we're all who we were when we were kids.

being an adult is about re-finding who you were when you were eight years old.

i don't want to be someone who hurts people. i don't think i was meant to be that.

have you been outside today?

[eyelambspider]

𝟏𝟎. 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 || 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

Day 10 of Kink/Creeptober! Here is a list of my prompts & event terms!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : michael myers!könig x gn!reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : könig returns home for halloween looking for blood. Little do you know, little trick-or-treater, its not a costume he's wearing. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.2 k 𝐚/𝐧 : y'all liking the halloween spirit i had in this one? 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mentions of blood/gore/death, its still kinda cute/scary bc why not? i swore again in this one

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒. The orange glow from the jack-o-lantern candles casted an eerie glow on the rain-slick pavement. The streetlights had flickered on an hour ago and midnight had slowly passed by.

Left to right, no matter where you looked, it seemed like the peak of Halloween night had come and gone. House lights were slowly flickering off, and only a few teens were roaming the sidewalks in packs. Most of the kids had gone to sleep already, abandoning the candy hunt while their parents snuck out to go to parties and drank themselves silly.

You sighed, the breath becoming a puff of frost in front of your eyes. The brisk fall air lapped at your skin causing your legs to prickle with goosebumps.

In the end, this would all be worth it!

Sure, some houses were turning their lights off already. The families within calling it quits and heading to bed. But you had stayed out, looking for those ghoulish green lights even if your nose had turned pink from the cold.

Who could say no to a bag full of free candy? Most people didn't mind you weren't a kid anyway.

You trekked across the sidewalk, glancing at a house at the corner of the street. It was dark, but the yellowing lawn was loitered with homemade decorations. Plastic skeleton's strung up to the barren trees, foam headstones peaking out of the dirt, and even a little sheet of artificial fog was still puffing along the pavement.

This was what Halloween was: just people enjoying scary stuff and having child-like fun.

Distracted, you rounded the corner only to be bombarded by a swarm of people. It was a reflexive dance to avoid everyone. Bumping into a woman in a sexy tiger costume, nearly avoiding a zombies elbow.

You yelped out small apologizes as the group brushed past you in a blur of cheesy costumes. The lot of them giggling at you until you were spun around, narrowly avoiding a cowboy who smirked at you, purposefully knocking against the black bag of candy in your hand.

Before you could call out the soft injustice, or even defend yourself from their mocking laughter... Your back slammed into what felt like a brick wall.

The impact stole your breath away, and you quickly turned on your heels to face the tallest man you'd ever seen. His gaze hidden, but the black veil on his head was tilted ominously towards you.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" you quickly blurted out, feeling embarrassment wash over you.

The stranger watched motionlessly as your cheeks reddened-not from the cold- and you hung your head just in time to see a few pieces of your candy sprawled out on the curb in front of his boots.

You crouched down, beginning to gently scoop up the broken chocolate bars and shattered lollypops.

You didn't dare look up at him while you did. The way he was just standing there instead of following his friends...

You subtly peered over your shoulder, watching as the group of laughing party-goers quickly disappeared around the corner.

He found it amusing when you apologized again. You were dressed like a little vampire or something.

How... charming.

An unsettling grin splitting across his features as he watched you squirm under his intense gaze.

What was with this guy?

You quickly tried to grab your sweets, the awkward, agonizing seconds he spent staring at you felt like an eternity. That is, until he crouched down, taking a knee next to you. His large hand reached out to pick up the last pack of gumballs, bringing it up for you to take.

"Thanks," you mumbled quickly. Even when he was knelt, he was still such a huge man. The thought made you swallow nervously, reaching out for the gum when you finally saw it.

His calloused palm was drenched in a slick crimson, smearing against the plastic wrap of your rainbow gumballs. You froze, eyes flickering up to really look at him this time.

Although his face was shrouded in a black fabric mask, his blue eyes seemed to glow in the streetlights, boring a hole through you, silently daring you to take it from him.

He was wearing a dusted navy janitor's jumpsuit, a knife held faithfully by his side in his other hand. The blade coated in the same, gore-y liquid. His grip on the weapon so tight his knuckles were bone white.

Just when you thought this guy couldn't be serious, the smell hit you.

The pungent odor of death wafted off of him in waves, the sharp scent of decay nearly making you gag in disgust. He wondered what exactly you would do when you found out that it wasn't fake blood, or another cheap costume he was wearing.

König watched the color slowly drain from your face when you realized.

What a smart little Maus you were.

Your body went onto autopilot, saving your brain from experiencing the unbridled terror of the situation fully. He wasn't just wearing a Michael Myers costume in horrible taste for the murders that happened last Halloween... he was...

Tentatively, your trembling hand reached out and grasped the plastic wrapper from him. "Tha-Thank you," the words tumbled out quietly, as if the voice didn't belong to you anymore.

He watched as you gripped tightly onto the bag of bloody gumballs with a squelch that made you cringe. The crimson smearing against your palm as you tried desperately not to drop it in front of him again.

Before you could dart up to your feet, he reached out and harshly wretched your face towards him with that same bloody hand. You nearly screamed. Whatever the fuck stopped you from doing it, you had to thank.

He squished the softs of your face and chin in his rough hand, squeezing so hard you thought he would end it there and snap your jaw in half.

But his eyes just bore holes into yours, reveling in the pure horror that emanated off you in droves.

Maybe people sleeping in the safety of their houses would hear your screams in time. Or maybe the group of jerks would come back before he crushed your skull in. Maybe, just maybe you had a chance of fighting him off.

He saw all those thoughts flash across your eyes without a word.

Belying the strength you both knew he possessed, his grip softened from its bruising nature. The thick pad of his thumb lifted up to brush the corner of your mouth with a terrifying smile. He had hoped to wipe away the fake blood from there, but it only served to make your costume more authentic.

The towering horror-story of Haddonfield finally let go of your jaw. He took one last look at your face, blank, as if you'd seen a ghost... Before you stood and ran away, not daring to drop another piece of candy.

He watched your retreating form with mild interest, tilting his head as he considered.

The same rage bubbling up under his skin, itching to drain the life from someone's eyes again.

König's attention flickered momentarily before he rounded the corner, following after the group he had previously been stalking. Their laughs still echoing across the empty street.

He'd have the rest of Halloween night to hunt you down, and he'd hoped it would be just as fun.

[finniestoncrane]

Pornstar!Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, multi-part au fic cooper howard is a former actor, novice pornstar, and current wasteland escort. reader mistakes him for a bounty hunter and ends up getting far more entwined in his lifestyle than they intended in a bid to get what they need from the first 'kind' person they've met in a long time🤎

☢️ Chapter 1: A Bombshell, word count: 3.5k exposition time!! cooper's recent divorce has hit hard, personally and professionally. vault tec have made it impossible for him to find work in any movies so he's turned his talents to porn to make some money. as horrible as he thinks his day is though, his future is only going to get worse (reader shows up next chapter) request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: age gap reference, angst, oral sex, pornography

From the corner of the small, hideously decorated set, Cooper watched the skeleton crew work to clean things up after the last movie wrapped just an hour before. His skin began to crawl, a shudder rolling through his body, as he considered the fact that he hadn’t seen anyone take away dirty sheets or bring in clean ones since he arrived. 

And he was expected to fuck in these conditions. It was a living nightmare.

Trying to lighten his mood, he murmured what was supposed to be a positive sentiment.

“At least it’s not snuff. Way my luck’s going, wouldn’t that just be the cream on top of the pie.”

Cooper looked up to the ceiling, shielding his eyes from the bright studio lights which provided a familiar, albeit less high-end warmth than he was used to. He was working though, so he couldn’t complain too much. A paycheck meant he wasn’t out on the streets, the hot sun beating down on his face instead. And he had to face facts; the snap of some powerful fingers and he could be out on his ass at a moment’s notice, fired even from a gig like this. 

No prospects. Vault Tec had made sure of that not long after he’d confronted Barb. She’d gone straight to her bosses, that panel of cruelty he’d listened in on, and their retaliation, preventative measures to ensure they could continue on their journey of annihilation, had been swift and immeasurably evil. His reputation was ruined, the earth in which he’d grown and nurtured a career scorched, much like they intended to do with the rest of the world. Any upcoming opportunities, any interest that anyone held in him, gone. 

They’d been thorough, efficient. News reports, gossip between housewives, notes passed across the desk during auditions. They’d made sure he’d never work again, not in anything worth while, of course, holding his earnings hostage. And when he thought that was all they could take from him. His life, his money, his house, his wife. They had come for more. Armed Barb with the best lawyers money could hire and then offered him the worst deal. 

His silence in exchange for some brief, supervised moments with his daughter. Something about alcohol abuse, a half-truth at most, but enough to convince the judge. 

It felt cruel to him, that he was put in a position where he had to choose between Janey and the rest of humanity. A shitty thing to do to a man, that’s what he thought of it. And a shitty choice to make. And a shitty decision when he threw altruism to the side and secured the rest of humanity’s fate. He was just as complicit as they were, really, if he thought about it too hard. Which of course, he did. Each night as he struggled to sleep in his apartment. But whatever time was left, he reasoned that he might as well spend it being as happy as he could, even if that was only for one day a month when he was allowed to see Janey.

What was it? Two days ago he'd taken her to the zoo? So almost another month until he saw her again. A month of work. Blood, sweat, and tears. So much sweat.

He let his gaze fall down, taking in his body. Wrapped in a robe, nude underneath it, primed quickly by the makeup artists who seemed to only be making sure that his body hair was tidy and he wasn’t going to sweat too much during his part. Neatly trimmed pubic hair and strategically shaved nipples wouldn’t save him from that though. This was his third film, and each time his nerves, his guilt, his unrelenting shame as he drove his cock into the expert, very formal, professional cunt of whoever his co-star was, it was certain that he’d be sweating copiously only ten minutes in. 

“Coop? Hey, Coop! Howard! Keep your head in the game. Both of ‘em, heh.”

Now he was being bossed around by the lighting guy, someone whose name Cooper had forgotten already. The snorting laughter echoed in Cooper’s mind, bringing him firmly back to reality from his daydreaming. It was more mindless worrying than daydreaming, really, but it was the only reprieve he got these days, and now it seemed he couldn’t even find a moment of peace for that. 

Daydreaming suggested something positive, thoughts filled with desires or nostalgia for days gone by. But there wasn’t a single remaining vestige of his former life that he was happy to cling to, all of it tainted with soured memories and terrifying future prospects. And knowing what he knew, he still had to keep going. He had to pretend like nothing was wrong. A fake smile plastered on his face despite the mess that he was in. 

“Howard? Come on, man. Pull it together.”

The lighting guy was calling on him again, and this time he had the gall to look at Cooper with an impatient, furrowed brow. 

“You know they used to call me Mister Howard.”

“And they used to say I looked young and fresh faced, shit changes, man. You coming or what?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming. Keep your pants on… at least you get to.”

He knew he shouldn’t be so flippant, but his patience had worn thin over the past few months. Now that there was nothing to be charming for it was no longer second nature to him. He was rude, cold, and found he was losing himself. Deep down, there was a voice scolding him. Telling him to be thankful that when there were no more studios with their doors open to him, that he was at least able to find some places willing to hire. And while it was a lot less glamorous, he should still be grateful. 

But it was hard to feel that way when his new profession was clouded by his own insecurities.

Cooper was well aware that he wasn’t by any means experienced when it came to the world of sex. His first foray into anything of that nature was with his highschool sweetheart on prom night. An unfortunate experience that taught him nothing and ended up igniting the spark that ended that first love. Then there was Barb. He’d met her in college and they’d been together until their bitter divorce. A single one night stand between then and his current career, and that was his sexual history summed up neatly.

It always struck people as funny when they learned about his very short list of sexual conquests. He was Cooper Howard. Charming, charismatic, handsome, famous. A verified heart throb. But he was woefully unsure of what to do with that reputation, and always had been. While other stars would flirt with fans or interviewers or even directors to get a little bit more attention, Cooper was never able to offer anyone anything but a genuine and pleasant smile and maybe at a push, a mischievous wink to accompany his signature smile. He wondered how much of it had to do with the fact that he only had eyes for Barb, but even when she had pushed him to ‘play the game’ he’d still found himself unable to. 

Now, all of a sudden and based on a perception of him that was built upon years of good PR, he was thought of as some kind of casanova, and expected to act as such. He had to act like the kind of guy who charm the pants off a woman, with very little plot to back that up, and who could fuck for thirty minutes solid in front of a crew and without cumming too soon,

Interestingly, at least to Cooper, they had told him that would be the hardest part. Stamina. The suspension of orgasms. But he found it all too easy, mostly because there was never a point where he felt any kind of deeply sexual attraction to his co-stars. Much the same as his previous acting roles, he’d always viewed it as a job. It would be inappropriate to have any other feelings. The women he worked with now were beautiful, skilled, talented. But Cooper wasn’t in love with them, and he found that made it hard to coax an orgasm out of him. Luckily, that seemed to suit his new bosses pretty well. He was handsome, a known commodity, and could last a while before they worked him up to his big finale, even if they had to cut the cameras while they waited for him to get to it.

“Alright, Howard. Robe off, let’s see that cock.”

Sighing, his eyelids closing as he tried to separate himself from his actions, Cooper shrugged off the robe that covered his body, letting it slink to the floor and pool at his feet. Despite the heat, his skin still prickled as it was exposed. Nipples hardening, hairs standing on end. 

“Can we get a little enthusiasm, Coop? Like your other movies?”

Cooper muttered under his breath.

“You can get the same enthusiasm when I’m getting the same paycheck.”

“What was that, buddy?”

“I said, where do you want me?”

“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Ok, Phoebe’s gonna be on her back, that ok, doll?”

“Of course!” 

“Perfect… so, you’re gonna be here. We’re doing missionary first, then maybe we cut to some doggy style. Remember, eyes away from the camera, and make sure that whatever you’re doing we can see those genitals. They’re the real stars!”

This was his life now. His body getting first billing above his soul under whatever lewd title this was going to be given. 

“Mr Howard? I just wanted to say, I’m a huge fan. I watched your movies as a kid, you’re like, my dad’s favourite star.”

His co-star, Phoebe, if he remembered correctly, was laying on her back on the bed, waiting for him. Her big, green eyes were wide with excitement. She’d been a fan. And when she was a kid. Looking at her now, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed how young she was. Barely pushing her early twenties, fresh-faced, keen, full of hope. 

How would her dad feel about him now? Would she mention this? Talk about meeting Cooper Howard, but skirt around the exact details? Or would she brag? Maybe it was just him who had a disdain for this line of work. He certainly didn’t judge anyone else on the set. Only himself. 

“Uh… thank you, darlin’. Always nice to meet a fan.”

Phoebe giggled, a sweet sound that made his heart sink. She spread her legs wider, eyes flitting down to his cock which he was stroking slowly in a bid to get it stiff. 

“You ready to go?”

“I’m ready! Mr Howard?”

Cooper looked down in dismay, his flaccid member refusing to play along. A stubborn diva, it turned out. 

“Is… is there something wrong, Mr Howard? Is it me? I’m so sorry, you must be used to much bett-”

Cooper’s natural empathy, at least the last reserves of it, were pulled out of hibernation as Phoebe began to blush, embarrassed at what she perceived as her inability to turn him on.

“Oh, no, darlin’. This is a ‘me’ problem. You don’t worry about it at all, ok?”

He placed a hand on her bare shoulder, all lust evaporating as he comforted her, smiling back as she beamed appreciatively to him. 

“God damn it, ok, let’s get Harv in, he can do his scene with Phoebe, that ok, doll?”

“Oh for sure! I’m good to go.”

“Perfect, you’re an angel. You, Howard. We can shoot the exposition scene just now. Go to wardrobe and get your outfit.”

Oddly thankful, even though he was embarrassed at his inability to perform, Cooper headed to the small room where they held the small wardrobe for cast members. The exposition scenes were his favourite to shoot. Of course, they were poorly written, and his co-stars weren’t exactly professionally trained actors. But it at least felt like old times. Lines to memorise, a character to portray. And limited sexual encounters for him to fuck up.

Besides, it was porn, and he was the star. Which meant there was a lot more wooing. A lot more women, various actresses playing a myriad of characters, all of whom were seemingly desperate for Cooper’s cock, whatever role he happened to be playing. Once the exposition was out of the way, he had to fuck. But these scenes? He got to be enticed, which always made it a little easier on him. He might have even been looking forward to it today. A stroke to the ego, among other things. A boost to his confidence, and a little physical comfort to stave off the looming spectre of complete loneliness.

When he sifted through the rack and found his name on a plastic covered bundle, however, his brief glimpse of joy was stolen away. 

It wasn’t exactly the same, but it was close enough. The deep blue shirt, bright, golden yellow detailing. And the hat. Not identical, but anyone watching would know that he was supposed to be portraying his old self. A cowboy, the Cooper Howard people knew and loved.

On the table behind him, he rifled through the ‘scripts’ until he found the one with his name scribbled on the top. Ten lines, some room for ad-libbing. All of it cowboy themed. Pulled directly from his movies, albeit changed a little for the sake of copyright infringement. 

He couldn’t do it. 

But then he remembered Janey. How badly he’d wanted to treat her, to spoil her. And how little money he had left after alimony. And how expensive the rent was at his new apartment, which was overpriced, disgustingly decorated, and didn’t even allow pets. 

Maybe everything would be ok in the world. Maybe he’d go on living, get to see retirement, see the world flourish, the wars end. Maybe, Vault Tec and Barb would see the light, change their ways. Maybe it was all for nothing. 

So maybe he better get his shit together and start making some money, so that what was left of his future wasn’t so abysmal.

“Put on a smile and go get your cock sucked, Cooper. Not the worst day in the world, really.”

WIth a sigh of resignation, he chose to listen to his conscience, the little voice that steered him in the right direction, and put on the suit. The material was a poor quality, some cheap polyester deal, ill fitting, too baggy for his frame. And the hat was clearly something from a cheap party supply store. But as he looked in the mirror at himself, he could push away the feeling of seeing a ghost and focus on the positives. He looked almost like himself again.

“Mr Howard? They’re ready for you.”

The polite knock and the soft voice of the only runner on set came through the door, and Cooper exited, surprising the young man in the corridor.

“Oh wow.”

“What’s wrong, kid?”

“Nothing, nothing. You just… you look like you did in your movies. I’m a little bit starstruck.”

“You gave me my coffee this morning.”

The runner looked to his feet, shuffling awkwardly as he tried to explain himself.

“Yeah, but that was… now you look… y’know?”

Trying not to be impolite, Cooper pushed past him, muttering under his breath.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”

Back in what the director insisted on calling “the studio” despite it being a hastily fabricated sound stage in the middle of some tacky, shared ownership mansion in the hills, Cooper was met by a new woman who introduced herself as Veronica, before quickly telling him that everyone called her Ronnie. He smiled, clutching her hand between both of his in that confident way he used to greet fans, smiling at her as she bit her lip and smirked. It was a flirtatious look, one that gave him a bit of a boost as he subtly eyed her up and down and judged her silently.

“She definitely likes you… and she’s not too bad to look at herself. Look at you, seeing the positive side of things! Well done, Cooper. Well done.”

He made his way through the first few lines, trying his hardest to maintain a look of arousal as his co-star clumsily worked through hers, emphasis and inflections all over the place, the puns not quite hitting right the way she was delivering them. But he could forgive it all as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Well, I have to give you something for saving me from those bandits, kind sir… maybe this will be enough to repay you.”

She was adept at unbuckling his belt, repetition and muscle memory aiding her, and he could feel his erection stirring as she pulled his flaccid cock free from his pants and began to stroke it. 

“Now, ma’am… that won’t be necessary…”

Cooper’s voice trembled over his words as he took his semi-erect cock from her and began stroking it slowly himself to keep the erection building. 

“... I did what any good man would.”

“Then let me do what any good woman should.”

He cringed hard at the line, but luckily, the grimace was covered by his mouth dropping open as Ronnie took his cock in her mouth, sliding her lips over the tip with a gentle ease that made him forget momentarily how terrible his life was at that point. 

Her tongue slid over the tip, teasing over the slit and collecting his pre-cum with a satisfying moan that vibrated through him, tingling over the sensitive nerve endings. Cooper was able to sink into it, some of the muscles in his back loosening as he let himself go. Something so satisfying about the way she held him, one hand on his testicles, the other stroking his shaft as he lips puckered around his head. 

Cooper wanted to show her. Not that she was doing anything wrong, she was doing a better job than anyone else had. Ever. But he wanted to guide her, to ease her throat over his length, to breathe through her nose as he filled her mouth, to show her how he liked it. He kept himself to himself, however, putting his fingers in the belt loops of his pants so they couldn’t reach for anything before he could stop them, like the back of Ronnie’s head to down to her round, firm breasts, or even letting his fingers trail over her-

“Cut! For fuck’s sake.”

“Just as things are looking up…”

Cooper’s attention was focused on the director who sat lazily in his folding camping chair. All of him reacted to the interruption, the disruption of his genuine pleasure, finally, for the first time in who knew how long. Tense, irate. And not in the mood.

“Alright, alright… I thought this was gonna be a one take situation, but geez, Howard. If it’s not one thing, it’s the other with you! You got lines to be getting through, imbecile! How you got hired before, I’ll never know. If it wasn’t for that wife of yours, you’d-”

“Now wait just a damn minute!”

Cooper pulled away from Ronnie, his cock bouncing around as he stomped in a way that might have seemed comical to the crew if he hadn’t looked so intense, filled with complete rage as he shook a pointing finger at the director.

“I am sick of taking this from-”

Everyone was jolted into a panic as a rumble spread through the ground. One burst.

“Can’t be an earthquake…”

The runner had only just come into the room when everything in Cooper’s vision was blocked out by a bright, white light. A quick flare, like a firework, or a flashlight being turned on in a dark room. He could see it still, but smaller, and somewhere on the horizon, down in the city. 

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Get down.”

It was perhaps the last truly selfless thing Cooper did. The glass landed on them, some people got splintered by the small shards as they fell to the ground. But they’d avoided the worst of it. And he didn’t need to help them. These were not people he cared for. They were people who were cruel, difficult, practical strangers. People who didn’t deserve what Cooper knew was coming.

He thought of that day a lot. Of how he’d had it somewhere in him, a long, long time ago, to offer himself or his wisdom in exchange for nothing, to people who these days he’d sooner shoot in the head before spitting in their cup. 

Bitterly, he indulged himself, hoping that at least some of them were suffering a fate worse than his, if such a thing actually existed. 

“Maybe the mutants.”

There was hardly any time this evening for him to satisfy his desire for revenge with fitful fantasies, however, because he was rudely interrupted by who he expected was yet another customer tapping on his shoulder. A new client who didn’t know the rules.

No touching before payment.

So he turned to politely inform them, and make sure they didn’t forget it next time.